[Spirit Walk:  Nicholas the Knight's Perspective]
 

  In the Darkness of the Night,
  Sleep the Children of the Light.
  In the Lightness of the Day
  Sleeps the Child whose lost his Way.

  One whose own Light can't abide,
  Child whose hurt is deep inside,
  Why hold on to such fierce pain?
  Let it wash from you like rain.

  Say you, you deserve not Peace,
  Til your sins have been released?
  Child, judge you All-Love as so?
  Take your anger---let it go.

  Fly with me across the stars,
  Let the wind uproot these bars,
  Built as 'prison' by your sight,
  Be as One with Dark and Light.
 

  The alien star formations winked overhead as a cool wind playfully mussed
up his hair.  The soothing words in his mind fading slowly as he woke from a
whimsical dream.  Underneath his body was a bed of downy feathers, ebony
handfuls of the dark quills clutched in each hand, feeling the movement of
powerful muscles working.  A rhymatic rushing sound filled his ears like a
giant heartbeat.

  And he realized with a gasp that he was clinging on the back of a
gargantuan bird as it soared the night sky.

  "Merde!"

  Nicholas began to lurch away, only to cling more tenaciously to the
suddenly huge falcon as he saw how high up in the air they were.

  The terror quickly became elation, however, when after a swift turn and
roll from his ride, he realized he was securely attached to the acrobratic
bird even if he could not see or feel anything keeping him so other than the
grip of his two hands.  It seemed an impossiblity.

  More magic?

  Magic or impossiblity, it was fantastic and he wasn't eager for it to end.

  Time became meaningless as he was carried over an ocean, even *through*
the very water itself where his 'ride' playfully danced around a large shark
and sea turtle that deferred to it.  Similar blue-green eyes shared by the
sea creatures cast long looks over the falcon's passenger, the expressive
orbs conveying an unspoken acceptance.  Apparently satisfied, the falcon
broke the surface and left the ocean to fly over emerald forests, where they
met similarly with a brown-eyed deer and leopard of some kind, to mention
just a few.  Deserts, grasslands...many different landscapes---it was the
same.  Each place had its own oversized, weird-eyed wildlife to which
Nicholas was---he could think of no better correllary---*inspected and shown
off* like a squire being considered for knighthood.  Always they flew higher
in altitude until they were amidst mountains again.  A fattish rat blinked
at their passage.  An owl flew along for a moment before veering off.  The
last creature before they left the realm of 'terra firma' altogether being a
white-haired goat with eyes colored the same as the dark, striated granite
cliff  it was perched upon.  It acknowledged  the pair with an amused huff.

And then there was nothing but himself, the falcon, and the stars.

A voice spoke, a clear, pleasant alto:

  "Nicholas de Brabant of the planet Earth,
     Born of human and vampire birth,
        Seeker of Truth and Holder of Worth,
            What does thee seek from me?"

  Who was talking to him?  Craning his neck, Nicholas tried to see around
him, but everything was a blur of black and white stars with here and there
swirls of colors like a painting ruined by the rain.  The voice seemed to be
coming from all around.

  "Who are you?  Who is speaking to me?"

  And again the voice answered:

  "I am of Song, and I am of Night.
     Hold I both Hope and Warning tight.
       Behold, am Message in full Flight."

  "Oh,"  Nicholas breathed, feeling both awed and incredibly stupid for
daring to ask.  What if this was *God* speaking to him!  He mentally sighed
at the thought.  As if God would speak to his like.  "Forgive me, Lord, I
wasn't aware I was seeking you.  I mean.. um.."  Nicholas paused, trying to
think of what he should say next.

 "God of Man's I be of not,
    For neither of beads or gold am bought.
      Yet, of me has this 'Nicholas' sought
        For I am called:  K'tlysa."

  "Lord Ke-till-I-Saw?"  Nicholas repeated the odd name.  "Can you help me?
You say I sought you, but I only know that I seek to be free of evil and to
regain my faith in God and in myself."

   "A pain of Loss was placed in thee,
    When Love you swept aside.
      How can you be as One, you see,
        When to yourself you've lied?"

  The knight felt his head beginning to ache.  Poetry was nice, but he was
beginning to not feel very well, and the sing-song speech was getting to
him.  Not to mention the directionless and landmark lacking aspect of
wherever they were.  It was unsettling not to know which was 'up' and which
was 'down'.

  "I don't wish to be rude, Lord," he began tentatively, gulping back the
queasy feeling in his stomach, "but can you only speak in rhyme?

  Laughter like the soft tinkling of windchimes tickled his ears.

  "I can speak many ways, for I am Message Giver, and what good is a Warning
to those who cannot understand it?  Is this form better for you, Nicholas de
Brabant?" The head of the giant falcon turned just enough to regard him with
one luminous that perfectly matched the night scheme surrounding them.

  "Very much better, thank you," Nicholas smiled wanly.  'Heavenly Father,
I*am* talking to a bird!'

  The falcon almost seemed to smile as if it had heard his thought, but that
*was* flatly impossible.  Wasn't it?

"But desire you more.  To be *down,* perhaps?"

  "Well, if  you wouldn't mind, Lord," Nicholas respectfully replied.  "Not
that the view wasn't magnificent and the experience rather thrilling, it's
just that its all so much to take in that it's becoming rather muddled.."

  In the space of a heartbeat, Nicholas found himself standing on a mountain
peak of black flint rock and snow.  Far below, a green valley and blue lake
sparkled in full daylight like a sapphire set within an emerald, a fine-beam
spotlight shining on it.  On the other side was a heavy dark fog that seemed
to cling to everything like a sticky sap, obscuring the landscape's features
save for the sky itself.

  "..and I've had rather a... trying... day."  He gasped, quickly gaining
his center of balance so as not to go toppling over the edge.  "Pardon, Lord
Falcon..um. K'tlysa, where are we?"

  "Between Creation and Destruction; Clean and Foul."

  Well, Nicholas thought, running a hand over his hair, *that* cleared that
question up.  He was about to try again when his attention was drawn to
movement on the bleak side of the mountain.

"Why does that strange fog seem alive?"  Nicholas shuddered, realizing that
the smokey cloud stuff appeared to be deliberately probing for a way in to
the jewel-like area on the other side.

  The bird looked down as well, wings held slightly apart from its body.
"It is Unayarek's chosen form.  It wishes to cover All.  To have All to
Itself and under its control.  Your people call it Evil, the Jedi call it
Darkness.  The Kievet named it Destruction, a more descriptive word, for
simple darkness is no more 'evil' than the color black.  Does not your own
wisdom say that 'God created the Day and the Night'?  Black and White are
but different aspects of the whole, and not to be confused with Life and
Nonexistence."  Dark feathers ruffled and again the soft windchime sound of
laughter.

  "But black is not a color but the absence of light," Nicholas felt
compelled to point out, not sure just *where* he had learned that bit of
info.  He felt very confused, as if huge chunks of his memory were missing,
and the resulting emptiness was playing havoc with what was left.  Were the
snatches of 'memory' he was getting even his?  Or even *real*?

  The falcon fixed him with its eyes.  "How then can things *be* black in
hue if not a color?  Are you saying that a black horse repels light?  Is my
chosen brother, K'tay, evil for his black hair?  Am I?  No, Nicholas, there
is none of Evil in black or darkness....or in you."

  "But I am!"  Nicholas protested, this being one of the few things he felt
sure of,  "I allowed a monster to attach itself to me---and I cannot free
myself from it!"  He buried his face in his hands, falling to his knees upon
the hard rock.  "Better that the heathen had killed me in battle than to
have fallen in with LaCroix."  The soft weight of one wingtip brushed
against his hair.

  "You chose a path, Nicholas," the voice consoled.  "As all living things,
you chose your way and now it is done.  An Elder cannot decide to become
kien again and remake his Journey.  Nor an Etwan be reborn as K'tlyan.  It
is chosen.  It is done."

  "It was a mistake!" Nicholas swore into his hands.

  "Was it?"

  "What?"

  He lifted his face and found his image reflected in the dark eyes,
surrounded by a vineyard.

  "When on Earth you ate grapes.  The grapes you digested ceased to be
'grapes'.  Instead, they became a part of Nicholas de Brabant.  Are the
grapes poorer for becoming part of you?"

  "They are if I end up taking them with me into Hell's fire," the knight
grumbled sarcastically.  "Besides, in this case it was the 'grapes' that ate
*me*."

  "Same result either way," the bird responded.  "You lived as one
organism---to mutual benefit."

  Nicholas' attention wandered to his boots.  "How does it benefit a soldier
for God to be consumed by an evil monster?"

  A sharp hiss drew his attention back to the bird, whose starry plumage was
all puffed out.  Ebony eyes flashed with inner lightning.

  "Still you persist in seeing Destruction where it is not!  Why do you do
this---you---who have seen both Good and Evil, *faced and fought* Evil?!
You blind yourself to yourself---*lie* to yourself.  Tear yourself into a
quilt of different Nicholases---and see the the chaos that this has caused?"

  "Help me, Lord?" the knight pleaded, dropping to one knee.

  At the sight of the human kneeling humbly down before it, the fiery eyes
calmed, the agitated feathers smoothed themselves back into place.

  "Listen, young one.  There is no Nicholas the Vampire or Nicholas Knight,
or Nicholas Crusader.  There is only Nicholas, born of Brabant, Earth.
Nicholas, whose nature cannot help but fight against Evil...even the evil he
only imagines to be before him.  Nicholas, whose heart cries when another is
hurt and he is unable to prevent the hurt.  *That* is the Nicholas that is
needed here.  Not a Nicholas too weak from self-flagellation to wield his
sword."  K'tlysa paused as if considering something.  "Do you enjoy flight?"

The incongruous question caught him off-guard.  Nicholas considered again
what he had felt on the trip here.

  The sensation of flying was the most intensely pleasurable thing he had
ever imagined!  Better than his best daydreams those childhood summer
evenings spent with his sister, Fleur, when they had relaxed together after
chores and compared their favorite fantasies and 'what ifs'.  Flight had
been one of  the promises LaCroix had used to lure him to the Beast---for
the Vampire could do the impossible---as LaCroix had exhibited to him by
effortlessly levitating himself a foot off the floor.  Even without the
worded promises of an ageless and diseaseless life with Janette---he had
been hooked like a fish by that single act.

  And, oh, the flights the Vampire had permitted him, the knight recalled,
allowing himself to remember more than just the Beast's fangs and bloodlust.
Flight, and strength, and...an undeniable end to loneliness---for the
Vampire was always nearby.  And dependable in what he could expect from it.
Not like fellow Crusaders who might or had desert his side as they fought
the Saracens.  Not like the kindly, then treacherous LaBarre.  There were no
surprises from the Vampire.  It's motives were plain and simple:   Hunger
for food.  Hunger for Pleasure.  There had been an odd sort of comfort in
that familiarity.

  "Yes, Lord," he reluctantly admitted, loathe to concede that the certain
aspects of the Vampire still drew him to it.  "I enjoy it very much."

  "Is flight Evil?"

  "No."  He didn't like where this was going, and decided to switch the
subject back to something the falcon had said earlier.

  Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Nicholas knelt dejectedly before K'tlysa.
"My Lord...what you said earlier about wielding a sword?  I lost my
broadsword when the fish--"

  "Water Brother PameaYervet has retrieved your weapon for you.  But that is
not the sword you need."

  "It isn't?"

  "No, Nicholas.  Metal is of poor use against the Evil you were brought to
fight."

  "Your pardon, Lord, I am confused.  What fight?  Who brought me?  Of what
sword do you wish me to take up to battle, then?"

  The falcon turned its gaze towards the green valley...

  And they were back with the others.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~o~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Spirit Walk:  Nicholas the Vampire's Perspective]

  Nicholas growled theateningly as his surroundings changed yet *again*.
This was worse than that silly theatre business the Other had occassionally
dragged him into.  'Scene changes', that Shakespeare fellow had called them.
Mortal surroundings changed quickly enough without speeding things up!

  Everyone was gone.  Including the dark-haired creature he had hoped to
feed from.
  Just one of those big, fluffy goats was left.  A large one.  He'd just end
up with a mouthfull of noisome fur trying to drink from that thing.  Yet it
was the only thing around save grass and rock.  Drat!  He hated having to
resort to carouche fodder.

  Oh, well..

  "Come, creature," he called to it, trying to capture its heartbeat so that
it would remain calm when he sank his fangs into its...wherever it had less
fur.  Maybe he should tear out a mouth-sized patch of the stuff first?

  The goat-thing huffed disdainfully at him, regarding his hypnosis attempt
with a bemused expression.

  A resister goat?  Could *nothing* go right for him in this mad world?  He
bristled at the thought of how his sire would react to his failures since
arriving here.  Being the subject of his Master's scorn pricked his pride.

  "Come, to me, goat."

  "Come yourself, if you would dine,
    You have Hunger, but I have Time."

  "What?" Nicholas blinked at the deep baritone voice that echoed in his
ears, struck by both the fact that an animal could converse and by the
intense eyes so very like the rock that rose around the grass.

  Another, tenor, sounded from behind him.

  "It is weaker than I expected.  K'tlysa did not say it would be
two-legged."

Nicholas spun around to find a large feline regarding at him with
flame-orange eyes.  A muscular frame glided smoothly within a coat similar
to that of a snow leopard, but with larger spots and a thicker tail---or was
that just thicker fur?  The Vampire studied the sleek, yet powerfully built
animal with admiration, noting the elongated upper canines with approval.
Here was a fellow predatory machine that he could appreciate.

  The cat turned its head to the 'goat' which watched it intently.

  "Arrogant," asserted the baritone voice.
  "Self assured." chuckled the tenor.
  "Irresponsible."
  "Indomitable."
  "Reckless."
  "True," the tenor conceded.  "It needs the tempering of its fellow kitling
to succeed as a responsible Predator."
  "Damaged," the goat rumbled.
  "Hurt," the feline agreed.
  "Salvageable?"
  "Hopefully, R'ket."
  "Quickly, then.  The Singers tire.  The Weaving weakens."
  "The Song falters."
  "Good hunting, V'rek."
  "Protect well, R'ket."

  The 'goat' turned to bound up the rock... and disappeared, leaving the
Vampire alone with the feline.

  "What have you done with the goat?"

  "Nothing, Vampire.  Fire cannot easily hurt Rock, nor Rock, Fire---we do
not antagonize each other without reason.  R'ket has gone to guard his
mountains."

  "Guard from what?"

  The cat huffed, as if the answer should be obvious, "From Destruction, of
course.  Unayarek."

  "What are you?" Nicholas asked.

  "The Kievet call me V'rek, Enemy People.  When they first arrived here,
mine and  theirs disagreed on the order of things.  An understanding as well
as fear there is now, but prey to my children they remain---so the name
stayed.  I am of Fire and of Predator---as close to Unayarek as can be
without *being* of Unayarek."

  "Predator."

  "But not Destruction.  They appear similar, but are not the same, Vampire,
though many confuse the two."

  "I destroy,"  the Vampire grinned.  "And I enjoy it."

  "You kill and you enjoy the food and power it gives you," V'rek corrected.
"But the wise predator does not destroy.  From whence would its next meal
come?"  Feral grin.  "Besides, some Prey are more useful alive than in
stomach."

  "How so, cat?"

  "Uteiv!"

  A huge, creature like a grizzly bear with an Irish Setter's tail lumbered
into view loudly rumbling in bass tones.

  "Fire, your whiskers need pruning.  See *mine* as Prey?"

  "As cub only."

  "As *new* cub," snuffled the bear, myopically eyeing Nicholas.  "It is not
of Land."

  V'rek rolled its eyes.  "Not *our* Land, Uteiv."  The cat winked at the
Vampire.  "Uteiv is not very quick in thinking.  However, he makes an
excellent partner."

  "Partner?" Nicholas sneered disdainfully.  "Vampires do not need help in
hunting.  We are not like the humans."

  "You never hunted in a pack?" The cat's thick tail swished.  "Tsk.  How
inefficient of your species."

  "Of course I've hunted in a pack," Nicholas testily replied.  "With my
sire and sister.  But I did not *need* them to hunt."  Pompous feline.

  "Nor does V'rek need Uteiv to hunt.  Relax your claws, Vampire.  But I was
not speaking of need in catching prey.  Uteiv is useful in other ways.  Ways
that give pleasure.  As do others."

  Ah, the Vampire was listening now.  Predators did not hunger for food
alone.

  "Uteiv makes caves that keep out the snow and wind.  His old homes are
comfortable places  to stay in."

  A wolf/fox crossbread appeared, its brownish-red fur glistening in the
light.

  "Ishti, also of Land, barks loudly when trespassers appear, alerting us to
possible dinner or danger."

  Bruin and fox faded away.

  The cat purred deeply, "Even the Kievet have their non-food uses.  There
songs fill the air with pleasantness.  They even sing the spirit of my own
to remind K'yavanti and Ava of our importance in Creation.  Can you admit,
Vampire, that your Prey is not as useful to you?"

  Nicholas folded his arms.  Admittedly, yes, the humans were useful in
other ways than for their blood.  They produced dry, comfortable, shelters
that were much better than mere caves.  And the silk weavings from the
Orient?  So smooth!  As delicious as water on his sensitive skin after so
much time spent in these woolen things.
  That fellow Michelangeo and his contemporary Leonardo De Vinci created
objects d' art to please the eye, and music... ah, the great composers had
so inspired the Other to create such beautiful sounds!  How he loved it when
the Human sat at the piano and pla--"

  Shuddering, the Vampire broke from his musings.  He bared his fangs at the
smirking feline.

  "What are you laughing at!"

  "At a young cub too immature to see that he has been trying to destroy the
very thing that keeps him alive."

  "Nonsense!" Nicholas snapped.

  "Do you honestly believe that your sire loves only you?  That it is only
*your* aspect of the blood that he finds so enthralling?"

  "Ha!  It was LaCroix who encouraged me to rid myself of the Human."

  "Then the sire is as blind to his own needs as the pup."

  "Do NOT insult my Father!"

  "Forget that I, too, am Predator?" the cat's eyes flared.  "And Predator
much longer than you or your Child-Sire, Kitling!  I speak plainly to my own
of what I see.  Perhaps you should speak so with your sire."

  The Vampire deflated.  "My Father..." he gulped, "is not here."

  "Mentally, he is always with you."

  "What good is that?" Nicholas folded his arms again and looked away, not
wanting the annoying feline to see just how much he missed the comfort of
knowing his sire was near.

  "It is enough to work with."

  V'rek smirked as the Vampire faded away.

  "Children."