6.30 pm Sunday, 12 hours until sunset, 5 days until the S.C. Blavatsky Lodge, St Leonards
It was supposed to be a simple night at the library. Go to the library and spend a few quiet hours expanding your knowledge of our world. We’d studied for hours on end in Dominic’s library back at the bar. Simple.
As soon as we’d entered the foyer of the Blavatsky Lodge, Eclipse started acting strange. It was like the door was on fire for her, too bright to even look at without burning. Even after I opened the door and interposed myself against its threat, she still acted like everything there was lava. She became so agitated, I was concerned she would frenzy.
“I should just leave…I don’t belong here,” Eclipse said, scaring me most of all by turning to me and pleading, “Please, can I please leave?”.
“Yeah, yeah, no problem, I’ll get the door,” I said, opening the door and once more placing myself before it. She scuttled past, her head down, the white-eyed look of panic clear even on her partly obscured face. She didn’t wait in the foyer, but continued out of the building to the footpath, where she took a moment to breathe and collect herself.
“What was that about?” I asked, joining her in the street, “Do you want to talk about what happened there?
She just stood there, shaking her head as if she, too, couldn’t understand what had happened. She was still jittery, her arms wrapped around, shying away from the building as if it might explode in flames.
“We went to the Orthodox Church, you even knelt and prayed in the backyard.”
“That was a whole lifetime ago,” She shivered, unable to even look at me. Yeah, a whole five days ago. I could relate. I had two days’ seniority over her.
“Well, what do you want to do?” Meaning for the rest of the night
“Leave.” She stressed, still shaken.
Eclipse was too wound up in her fears to notice that passersby were looking at us strangely.
“What? Haven’t you seen someone with Asperger’s before? She has issues with new places, okay?” I barked after them in self-defence. Eclipse’s seeming collapse was getting me jumpy. Grabbing Eclipse’s arm, I started to march us down the street. I was looking for somewhere, anywhere we could sit down and have a private conversation without looking out of place.
A lit doorway and a sign reading Moon Phase Cafe offered a space to stop and gather ourselves. For pretence, I bought two cups of coffee and set them between us at the small table. Eclipse was looking more herself now, though still agitated by her experience at the library.
“Mads and Dominic are on their way. What do you want me to tell them?” I asked, breaking the growing silence between us.
“You could have gone inside,” She replied, comprehending how this looked. An adult male with a scared and confused young woman. And that was just those who knew no better. I had to have a story to tell Mads and Dominic. Otherwise, they were going to ask questions.
“I would have just left.” She sounded defeated by her own betraying nature.
“That’s an option. I can go back and…what are you going to do? We’re not far from the Museum as the crow flies. You can just walk over the bridge, or take the train to Wynyard?” I cringed. I hated even suggesting she be left alone.
“My concern is, whatever triggered you in there, could trigger you again…and you’d be alone.” She just sat there, her eyes darting back and forward, and she tried to make sense of her new worldview.
“I know you’re capable and strong, much stronger than me…”
“I don’t need to be looked after like a child.”
“And yet,” I said quietly so only she could hear, “You couldn’t walk into a library.”
“A very specific library.”
“Yes, but the world is full of specific places. Do you even know why it triggered you?”
I was starting to gain an impression of what had happened and was fearful that she’d go into a murdering frenzy at the sight of turmeric coloured Hare Krishnas or massacre a restaurant full of patrons at the sight of a Buddha or a Lucky Cat. How was she supposed to go anywhere, continually fearing the sight of religious symbols?
“How are you going to protect yourself from that happening again?”
“I have a clue… I know I can learn protection. Something to do with your sight.”
My sight? “What? Auspex?” Besides discovering the wonders of blood on Milk Beach that first night, Auspex was the first of my abilities I’d learned to use. And yet, I really had no idea how it worked.
“I’d teach you, if I knew how I did it,” I confessed
“We’re just not educated in that kind of knowledge transfer,” She acknowledged, and I wondered if her mind went back to when her sire taught her obfuscate. Was it as simple as having the desire to learn and drinking the vitae of another who possessed the skill?
Eclipse lapsed into silence again as her mind spun through possibilities of its own. I was left to contemplate what I witnessed. The symbols on the door were an odd mix of quasi-religious and devotional from all over history. I wondered about the old vampire stories, the laws, and the legends discussed in the Dracula play: a dislike of garlic, running water, and sunlight hurting us, being afraid of the sight of a cross and a stake through the heart to kill.
Sunlight was a genuine concern. Stallion’s small altercation with a few stray evening beams testified to that. Fire was also a problem. We’d all felt the fear at the open flame in the kitchen. But we’d cross running water dozens of times over the ANZAC and Harbour Bridges, with no ill effect. I was walking proof that staking doesn’t kill a vampire, though we’re not fond of the experience. And until tonight, I would have thought we were proof against religious symbols after our visit to the Orthodox Church. Even Dominic’s office held a small Catholic cross. It didn’t make sense unless whatever had changed had occurred recently, like five days ago, when she first met up with her new friends.
“Look, I know you have friends…outside the coterie, that is, do you think any of them would know what’s going on?”
She glanced up, a look of surprise and concern flittered across her features, “Perhaps.”
“I know…I know you have other friends…another life…”
“You make it sound like I abandoned you.” She said, as a throwaway line, something ridiculous said between friends. And I know she hadn’t, and yet, I couldn’t look at her and found myself contemplating the quickly cooling coffee in front of me.
“Oh, Rain,” I heard her say, “It’s okay, we’ll figure it out.”
We’d figure it out. Okay….
“So, maybe friends, maybe something I can teach you, but do you know what you’re going to do tonight?”
“I can make my way back to my friends. I can find them.”
“Okay…are you right for cash?”
“Yeah, I’ve always got something,” She said, calmer now that she had a plan of action. “Is there anything I can do for the plan?”
“Yes,” I warmed to the idea, “You won’t be able to get in, but you can walk around, see if you see any weaknesses, details about security…” Talk of the plan returned my mind to the present, and the two turning up at the library expecting to see us there.
“Oh, and if the others ask, say I said something inappropriate about your relationship with Izac and you stormed off.”
For a moment, she looked confused.
“For when they ask questions as to why you’re not there.”
“Ah.” She always was very smart.
Back up the road, Mads found the library and walked in. It was smaller and quirkier than she’d imagined a library being. There was no heavy wood furniture, and no dark recesses in which to hide. Comfortable chairs with colourful prints were sprinkled through the metal shelving, as were tables with chairs for quiet conversations. She looked around the space, spotted a group of four kin sitting together. There were even a few kine quietly doing their thing. She saw no one she knew, however, and sent me a text.
AT THE LIBRARY. WHERE ARE YOU?
“Good evening, Mads,” said the cultured voice of Dominic as he entered the library, “Fancy meeting you here.”
“Oh, what a pleasure meeting you here,” She said, a little louder than is strictly acceptable in a library. “Did Rain invite you too?”
“I technically invited Rain,” Dominic took in the library and noted the same four individuals as Mads. He scoffed at the idea that they called themselves a Chantry, though they were as close to a Chantry as the Tremere got to one in Sydney. He also spied a Librarian, quietly putting away books and headed off in their direction in a quest for information on the indigenous afterlife of Australia.
My phone’s jittering alerted me to the present and the two waiting at the library.
“I have to go. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?” I said, pulling out my phone and confirming it was a message from Mads.
“I’m fine, go.” She said, shooing me away.
RUNNING. THERE MOMENTARILY.
Dominic found the book titled, Under the Black, Red and Yellow, a discussion of the modern afterlife of Indigenous Australia. With a few others that sounded interesting, he took a comfortable seat not far from the Tremere four. Mads, now assured I was on my way, slumped into a chair beside him.
“Something to cure your curiosity?” She asked, peering around at Dominic’s book. He had nothing to hide and showed her the title.
“The afterlife here is quite different from the afterlife in, say, the United States or Europe.”
“Really?” Mads swivelled around, now seemingly interested.
“Yes. The afterlife here is like a walk in the desert, very interesting.”
“Yeah,” Without any context of what the afterlife’s outside of Australia was like, she was left with little reply, “Is death your specialty?”
“More of a hobby, but I am a mortician by trade, “Said Dominic, getting comfortable with his subject and with Mads seemingly, “It makes it easy to disappear bodies.”
“Being a Giovanni, that checks out.” She nodded.
Dominic, either to educate the next generation or just to shut her up, handed her a book, a more practical guide to meditation and The Dreaming.
Dissolution of Self to the Otherside.
The two of them sat in companionable silence, reading up on death and the Shadowlands here in Australia. For Dominic, it was confirmation of what he’d already discovered. The book detailed the society of the Kingdom of Clay and how it was set up. There were two major factions, the Natives and the Foreigners. Below them, there were seven minor groups. Supernaturals like werewolves and other lycanthropes, the fey and what was called the ‘Colonisers from the Otherside’, those who died overseas and made it to the Kingdom of Clay through the Afterlife, all generally sided with the Natives. All other groups were lumped in with the foreigners born in other lands.
A lack of respect for the land, love, fear and hatred had built walls between the two major groups. It was clear to Dominic that bitterness on both sides meant great opportunities for neutral parties to make deals, pitting one side against the other for personal gain. Fascinated, he settled down into his seat to read and meditate.
Jhor, or death energy, found at specific access sites, was discussed, as were the places themselves. Access points were mostly sites where massacres had happened in the past. Many of these were listed in the book with a potted history of the massacre, noting them as good resonating spots.
On meditation, Mads was wrapping her head around the idea of meditation techniques and mantras to help create a mindless state and therefore the ability to hyperfocus. One idea could be given room to grow in the mind and flourish without distraction. The analogy Mads took away was a computer with all its utilities and subroutines stripped away, allowing for the processing power to work on one single task. Given enough time, the book seemed to indicate she would be able to lift the veil between life and death and see the spirits around her.
Racing up the Pacific Highway back to the library, I found both Dominic and Mads engrossed in their reading. Dominic had, of course, found the black book. It was galling. I’d waited a week to read it and be pipped at the post. Still, I had plenty to research. I figured the Sabbat would be a topic best reviewed in Dominic’s own library, but surely the library would have something on the power behind religious symbols, especially like those on their front door.
As I scanned the shelves for useful titles, I spotted the four kindred sitting together, their little coterie of mystery. They must be the Tremere that had the deal with the Tuesday night Mages. The Thursday nighters? I reminded myself that Sunday was free-for-all, a no man’s land of the esoteric library world. I guess that these Tremere had nowhere better to be.
I scoured the shelves and stumbled across a book titled ICONES DEORUM, or The Icons of the gods. Quietly, I took a seat not far from the other two and began reading.
6.30 pm Sunday, 12 hours until sunset, 5 days until the S.C. Wetherill Park
Across Sydney, in a seemingly abandoned warehouse, Stallion was waiting for his bat. As the blush of day left the sky, there was a flutter of leather wings and a squeak of a frustrated bat. Opening the men’s toilet door, Stallion was pleased to see only blackness beyond the warehouse roof, and the bat flapping around his head. He fed it an apple, and as the bat chewed through the delicious fruit, Stallion laid out the terms of their agreement.
“I will provide fruit if you allow me to use your body.”
“Hmm, good fruit. Use my body? How?”
Prompted, Stallion started his ritual of Subsume the spirit and tried jumping his spirit into the bat.. The first failed attempt only roused the bat to take a bite out of Stallion’s neck.
“Sorry, sorry!” He yelled, pulling the bat away and staunching the blood. It didn’t need any encouragement and flew to the rafters, high above. Stallion tried again, but this time, he focused on pushing his spirit out to the bat and taking over its frail body.
He was flying! The body knew what to do, it was so easy. He flapped around the warehouse for a moment, getting used to his new body and view on the world. The wings flapped as they were meant to, his body twisted without thought as he turned and swooped down. Below, his body stood just where he’d left it, still as a statue. With an exuberant swoop, bat-Stallion headed out the small window and into the open air of the night.
He had no particular mission, no actual destination in mind, he just wanted to fly. Flipping and spinning and soaring with no boundaries or limitations through the velvety night sky. He felt the aircurrent buoying up his wings, the sounds and scents of the night filling in the details of the world around him. And when he clicked, the whole landscape flashed into existence in his mind, turning night into day. It was everything he’d hoped for and more. For two hours, he revelled in the new world that had just opened up to him.
6.50 pm Sunday, 12 hours until sunset, 5 days until the S.C. St Leonards
While Stallion roleplayed being a bat, Eclipse was left sitting in front of the quickly cooling black coffee, roleplaying at being human. It seemed to be a symbol of her life: cold, black, dead, and left behind.
Distracting herself, Eclipse pushed the coffee aside and pulled out Izac’s tiny journal. Instead of searching for insights within its pages, she pulled out a pen and left a short note to Izac on the off-chance he ever got to read it. Once her words were down, she returned it to the inside pocket of her jacket, closest to her heart.
Once more, there was nowhere for her. She couldn’t go back to my apartment, it was swipe card access only, and I had the only card.
A PASS CARD WOULD HAVE BEEN NICE. ♥️ She texted me, but received no reply.
Finally getting sick of pretending, Eclipse got up and left the cafe, and started walking down the long hill to the Harbour Bridge. She thought about going back to the Shrine. There she could at least relax, and possibly find out how the others dealt with a world full of religious symbolism.
She caught the eye of a boy at a bus stop shyly watching her. His eyes huge behind his glasses seemed in awe of her and her black witch mystic. He was nice, bookish and skinny, someone in another lifetime she may have stopped to talk to. He wasn’t Izac, though, so she ignored him and kept walking.
There was a difference between a nice boy and a good boy.
“Hey there, Rain. Weren’t you coming with someone?” Mads looked up from her book and discovered me sitting opposite.
“Oh, Rain. Glad you could join us?” Dominic glanced up at Mads’ words.
“I didn’t want to disturb you, you both looked so…involved with your books.”
“That’s quite alright,” Dominic said, closing the black book and handing it to me, “I think I’ve gleaned all I’m going to get from this one for the moment.” I received it gratefully.
“Is Eclipse coming?” Mads asked again, time for me to bite the bullet.
“I did come with Eclipse…”
“Where is she now?” Dominic asked, casually enough, but his parental concern was showing.
“Well, on the way here we had an altercation…small argument…I may have said something about Izac…”
“She is very sensitive on that point.”
“Yes, well, that’s why I’m late. I chased after her, and then I got your text. Sorry for not being here.” I said to Mads, who waved it off as nothing, and Dominic went back to a small stack of interesting reading. And that was it. Eclipse had nearly frenzied, not fifty metres from where we sat. It’s so easy to deceive when you give people what they expect to hear.
Behind Dominic, I noted the four Tremere doing a bad job of trying not to be caught watching Dominic and Mads.
“You two have caught the locals’ attention,” I said low enough for Dominic and Mads to hear.
“You did mention quite an enigma of a person,” Mads said pointedly. I had mentioned Izac by name, but I had the impression they were watching Dominic and the unknown, Mads, maybe trying to size them up.
Dominic looked over, but even the inept eavesdroppers were able to turn around in time not to be spotted by him.
‘You know you’re really bad at that,” Mads said loud enough for the whole library to hear. The Librarian poked their head around a shelf, and one or two other patrons thought it was time to leave.
One of the Tremere, a man by appearances, stood up from their table and walked across, leaning over Mads and speaking down to her in the comfortable chair.
“This is a library. There’s no reason to shout.”
“It’s rude to stare,” Mads replied as loudly as before.
“No, it’s not.” The Tremere replied, looking down their nose at Mads, “What is your name?”
“I believe this is a place of reading, not conversation,” Mads replied, rebutting the condescension with plain ordinary snark.
The Tremere tried another tack and turned to the senior member of our group, “Is this your childe?”
“Ah, no. This is a tagalong,” Dominic replied, all his urbane calm and assertiveness coming to the fore, “Some of my adoptive children have a tendency to pick up strays.”
“Do you know if they were taught manners?”
Dominic leaned around the Tremere, “Were you taught?”
“Yes,” She replied through gritted teeth, “But at the same time, I don’t like being stared at.”
“Ah, apologies,” I now decided to wade in and see if I could calm the waters. “We’re all here just to learn. Sorry, for disturbing you.”
“The correct answer. “ The Tremere smirked, and I had to keep from sighing as their saccharine patronism, “This is not a place of reading but a place of learning, and I know you’ve learnt plenty here, from what we hear.”
I tried not to blink. What had they heard? It wasn’t hard to imagine, and I started getting a sinking feeling.
“That’s curious. Isn’t it only your second time here?” Dominic now forgot his readings and turned to me. I told him about losing Lenny to the Mages when I informed him of the arrangements. He was enjoying this.
“‘Tis only my second time here,” I agreed, dreading what was coming next.
“But what about your first time?” The Tremere asked with fake empathy that would have made Mads want to punch them, “You learnt something very important.”
I smiled, said nothing and patted the black book I was still yet to read.
“Unfortunately for you, please do feel free to interject, but you left something behind. Rain, oh yes we know who you two are, but not this one.” He swiped a hand at Mads as if brushing her off his sleeve, “Rain came with another, but left alone.”
The world slipped away from underneath me as I felt the guilty helplessness of that night. I glanced over at the table, where I had left Lenny, reading through books very much like the ones I had in front of me, thinking everything was fine.
“We had a good chat with them, it seems he’s doing very well.”
I couldn’t look at anyone, not Dominic nor Mads. The words on the page I was staring at blurred and became meaningless.
He was alright. He was doing very well.
“Thank you,” I said, almost inaudibly, “He’s been weighing on my mind.”
“It was a shame to lose him,” The Tremere said, and if it had been anyone else, it would have sounded sympathetic.
I swallowed. Some habits are hard to break. “Yes.”
“Though they would have taken him, “ He added, and I did take some comfort from the words. I had had no choice.
“Yes, that’s what I feared.”
“Yes, well, no use in crying over spilled cadaver…” The Tremere said, sending a shiver up my spine. I focused on the good news that Lenny was safe and doing well, ignoring the mangled idiom.
“We completely understand your interest in all things Afterlife,” He changed the subject, glancing at Mads, “We’re not sure about this one’s interest, it’s a bit odd. Meditation is good for the spirit, though.”
“All information is useful,” I added.
It was clear this Tremere wanted to be known as some wise sage, a knowledgeable type that the simple and more practically minded could come for advice and wisdom. I wondered if they’d be as charitable if Dominic hadn’t been sitting there.
“Quite right,” He nodded to me and huffed a hearty, yet mirthless laugh.
“So, how is your evening?” Dominic now took control of the conversation, saving me from more of their fake sympathetic drivel.
“Splendid, getting ready for the big night.”
“Yes, many people are. I’m hoping the young ones are ready for it.”
“Oh, they never are.”
“No, no.”
Now, having taken control of the conversation, Dominic changed gear and steered it directly to where he wanted it.
“I see the old place has taken on a different look since Pitt Street.” I didn’t know what he meant by that. The Library? The whole society? I sat silently and listened to the master at work.
“Most assuredly. There was a lot of discussion and argument, and there was not a small amount of bloodletting and spontaneous combustion, but we came to a good agreement in the end.” He was talking about the fighting over the library that the mages had referred to.
“The place was almost hanging by a thread over there. I recall it being barely three rooms.”
“It was neglected. But once we came here and solidified a position, it felt right to have a…centre.”
“It’s good to see the centre back up again,” Dominic nodded sagely, aligning himself with the Tremere’s self-opposed image of themselves.
“There always has to be one for a pyramid to grow,” And now they were talking in some sort of code. Was it a Tremere thing? Part of their mystic image?
“The Blavatsky House is woefully under managed at the moment,” And now, he turned the screw. It was a delight to watch.
“We… appreciate your interest…”
“It is due for a bit of restoration, a little facelift. It is a beautiful and important place. There are not a lot of places we can…read up on our interests.”
“We will keep that under advisement.” And the Tremere backed down, humbled under Dominic’s Charisma and influence.
“Certainly, just a personal observation. You understand.” Having completed putting the Tremere in his place, Dominic sat back and returned to his book.
Of course, that meant the Tremere returned to the weakest link in the group.
“So Rain, expecting to lose anything else this time?”
“That is certainly not the idea…” I began, but they had their own agenda.
“You’ve seemed to have done the reverse this time. You came with another, and now it’s just you.”
They saw Eclipse’s episode.
“Yes, that was a disagreement. It was fortunate that it didn’t spill out into the library and disturb you, good people. Otherwise, I would imagine we would have had this conversation quite a bit earlier.”
“Hmm, possibly. What caused it?”
It is never a mistake to plan ahead.
“Ah well, she’s young and I just think she needs to get out, see other people. To not be focused on one person. She disagreed.”
Dominic looked at me oddly for a moment. Something in what I’d said didn’t click for him. He knew we were as thick as thieves. But the moment past, and he thought better of it, or at least kept it to himself. He may have agreed for all I knew.
I change the subject back, “I am deeply grateful for you telling me about Lenny. It wasn’t the best of situations.”
“Hmm, favour for a favour?” He suggested, “This humble Chantry can divine some information for you, if you so wish.”
Having seen the divinations of Bobby Listner I was keen to see how the Tremere’s blood magic worked, but there is only so much of a patronising buffoon one can take.
So, I chose to misunderstand, “Oh, I’m happy to do the legwork myself, but thank you for the offer. I’ll keep it in mind.” I patted the black covered book once more.
“Sundays, Mondays, Thursdays,”
“Thursdays?”
“Our time.”
Of course. Still, at least they thought I could be useful to them, which may be handy in the future.
7.30 pm Sunday, 12 hours until sunset, 5 days until the S.C. The Museum of Contemporary Art, Circular Quay
Across the stretch of water that surged under the Harbour Bridge and down through The Rocks to the Museum of Contemporary Art, Eclipse meandered. The Art Deco-inspired building the Museum now occupies was once the offices of the Maritime Services Board and had something of that officious, bureaucratic gravitas about it. Its stonework was like many of the buildings built at the same time, the warm coloured Sydney sandstone that sparkled under the artificial lights of night. With a small lawn out front and a row of flags, the building looked more like a small centre of state than an art gallery.
As she made her way through to Circular Quay, Eclipse noted the number of people out. It was warm, and the night was clear, perfect for Sydneysiders taking a walk after dinner, or the die-hard partiers getting one more shout in before the working week’s return. It would be easy to lure someone off the streets into the side alleys and out of sight. It would be easier if she could drive a car. She was getting used to these obtrusive thoughts, her vampire thoughts. Still, it wasn’t why she was here, and she turned her back on the crowds.
Focusing her attention on the building, she walked around it, noting its structure, security and access points. There were two entrances at the front, though only one was in the new annex, a collection of black and white boxes, which was now used during opening hours. A low hedge ran along the front of the old building, which could hide the activity of anyone digging their way in. She was certainly not equipped with earth-moving claws like Stallion, and she was sure Rain would not appreciate an earthen entrance.
Around the back, she spotted a second entrance for staff use after hours. A possibility, but this was covered by CCTV cameras in all directions. Possibly not an issue for her, but would be for Rain unless he came up with some costume to get himself inside unrecognised. At the rear of the building, she found a remnant of the old safety equipment, a metal drop-down ladder that provided access to higher levels and the roof.
Besides flying, she couldn’t see another way in and, after noting the ladder and its mechanism, turned away and slipped into the crowds.
8.30 pm Sunday, 12 hours until sunset, 5 days until the S.C. Wetherill Park
After two hours of life as a flying fox, Stallion returned through the window into the warehouse and landed on his own shoulder. Returning to his body was easier than leaving. His spirit knew how to fill this space, and it slithered in.
“That was fun!” He said, more to himself than the bat stirring on his shoulder
“What happened?” The bat yawned as if awaking from a long nap.
“You don’t remember what happened?”
“ No. Where’s my apple?”
“I gave you the apple before we began.”
“Oh. Anything else?” The bat asked, yawning again.
“Not tonight.”
“I’m going to sleep. I’m tired.” Flapping its wings heavily, it leapt from Stallion’s shoulder and headed for the glass window and into the night.
“See you when the…sun sets…..twice…” Stallion wasn’t sure if the bat had understood. He hoped so. He could see how the flight had tired the little mite, and he worried how the flying fox would cope after such a strenuous night. He watched it escape the warehouse and then returned to the men’s toilet to grab his jacket. It was time he made an appearance at the Crow bar.
8.30 pm Sunday, 12 hours until sunset, 5 days until the S.C. The Museum of Contemporary Art, Circular Quay
After her altercation with the “Chantry fops”, Mads paid close attention to the Tremeres. She knew them, and though they did have powers beyond the ordinary for kin, they had very little influence in Sydney and relied on the mysticism of the clan to give them any cred. Anyone with real power and influence, like Dominic, would not concern themselves with this four, and Mads was sure that Dominic’s presence had made the brief contact less…sticky. She had no doubt they could have disappeared her eyes or sent her screaming from the library, haunted by illusions. Instead, she was politely given a stern word.
She listened to their conversations about hermetic law, wondering when the real pyramid would be built here in Australia, and moaning about the lack of resources from their brethren overseas. It was all very cliquiey political stuff and in the end she bored of their voices and blocked them out.
Dominic knew a little more about the local Tremere. In all of Australia, there was maybe only twenty individuals and by their traditions, they would call themselves Sons of the Ether or Etheric. Still, the inner workings and politics of the Tremere were virtually unknown to all outside the clan, making him wonder.
“I must say, I am curious how everything is now that everything has settled down,” He said, directing his comment to the table of Tremere. I had no idea what he was talking about and put aside my reading to pay attention. The Tremere, too, seemed to have difficulty with Dominic’s enquiry.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, obviously, the Adjar and its affiliates went through a bad period almost twenty years ago.”
“Yes, the old Prince’s revenge didn’t quite work out.”
That did catch my ear. The old Prince? Abram’s down in Canberra? So, the old Prince hadn’t been quiet in his retirement.
“Well, I’m glad to see the place has found its home,” Dominic replied, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation for him. And me, on the edge of my seat to know what revenge the old Prince had concocted.
“As are we.”
Eventually, I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer.
“Excuse me, what you said there was very interesting. The old Prince’s revenge?”
“A bit before your time,” The Tremere glanced back at me, the condescension thick and cloying like humidity in summer.
“Ah yes, who were they, and what was their revenge?”
He settled down to give his lecture to the poor and stupid, “It’s not a revenge, but a series of revenges. You know how Ventrue are, this is all long-term planning with quarterly reports and annual quotas…it’s all very business-like. His name was Abrams, he was the previous Prince that our current Prince ousted, and now he sits in his humble exile in Canberra. All alone. No one would dare talk to him. But he has his petty revenges through the movers and shakers.”
“In Canberra…there he’s right on the…”
“…pulse, exactly. And still he can’t get rid of one poor, vain Toreador Prince.”
“He might not want to.”
“He’s been trying to. Why else would he make a living hell for the rest of us?”
Abrams made life difficult? How? How had he used his influence in the Capital to cause problems in Sydney?
“Surely you must remember from your earlier days, the streets used to be flooded with people, drunk, high and ripe for the picking. People went missing all the time, and no one cared. ‘It’s the Cross ‘, they would say, ‘they’ll turn up eventually.’ And now?” He blew onto his fingers and mimed the disappearance of a better time.
“Abrams, from Canberra, did that?” Not being a local, I had only a vague idea of the lockout laws. All I knew from the anecdotal sources was that there had been a vibrant nightlife once in Sydney. Now it was a sterile wasteland of corporate power. I’d thought the lack of social life in Sydney was our current Prince’s fault. Discovering that he had little to do with it was a revelation.
“You know my name, friend, can I know what you call yourself?”
“I, ” The Tremere raised themselves in their seat as if presenting to an audience and not just the three of us, “Am known as The Prestige.”
God save us from wannabees.
8.30 pm Sunday, 12 hours until sunset, 5 days until the S.C. Somewhere in Punchbowl
It takes no thought to look after a single red heifer, and Izac had been alone with his thoughts for a long while. When Lady Stone next made an appearance, he was ready with questions.
“Do you mind if I ask a personal question?” A single large eye from the red heifer turned in his direction suspiciously.
“Go ahead?” Lady Stone said, her rich, cultured voice echoing off the bare walls of his vigil cell.
“You said you were the reason the red list exists.”
She turned, acknowledging the statement, but said nothing.
“What did you do?”
“I refused to die,” She replied matter-of-factly.
“As simple as that? You must have pissed off the right-wrong people.”
She shrugged, her shoulders rising and falling like a dancer and glanced away, “A never-do-wellian here and there.”
“Pissed off the right-right people then,” Izac said, but the Lady had said all she was going to say on the matter.
“I do have one more thing? Considering that you have a task for me, and you seem to have a lot of tendrils out there. What’s the Prince’s purpose here?”
To this, she gave one of her rare rye smiles, “Why, to be.”
“That’s it.” Izac was disappointed, but that possibly said more about him than the Lady.
“That’s all, to be?”
“I thought I was very clear. He is a god playing dice. Roll the dice, see what happens. To be.”
“Oh.”
“It’s okay, I’ll switch the light out for you.” She said, leaving him alone once more.
“Oh no.”
8.30 pm Sunday, 12 hours until sunset, 5 days until the S.C. Somewhere in Punchbowl
*****************************************************************************************
Eclipsed thoughts:
The Break Up
Fuck! Fuck!
For a moment, Eclipse loses the feeling of the floor beneath her feet.
Her body forces unused lungs to move, hands shoved into pockets, and her eyes focused on the carpet beneath her. It feels like all of her is burning from within. A panic attack turned to 10.
“Let me leave, please.” Eclipse thought begging was a trait to die in the pit but she would do anything for Rain if he just let her the fuck out of here.
A reassuring hand grabs onto her arm as she stumbles out of the library. She can hear Rain attempt to speak to her but her head pounds against her eyes.
Is she crying?
Rain rubs a handkerchief to her face, then her cheeks. He’s saying something about sitting down but they keep walking.
What was that?
Fucking hurt is what it was.
It can be explained…
The smell of caffeine is something that Eclipse hadn’t known she lost.
Rain hovers for a moment. His hand holds the lid of a paper cup as he set it in front of her, his chest lightly brushing her arm as he takes a moment to stare at her. Eclipse lets him. She’s let him down enough to allow this.
Maybe Rain asked, maybe he didn’t but by the warmth against her hands and a peer under the lid told her it was a long black, her favourite.
Claudia used to whine whenever she asked for one. Wasting her beans on ‘liquid shit’ is what she used to say.
“Are you okay?”
The question hung like a noose around her neck. Or was she hanging from her foot?
No, she’s passed that tarot card.
“Fine,” is all she could manage as her hands brought the coffee close.
“What was that?” Rain pushed as he sneakily pricked some blood into his own americano before taking a sip.
A few moments turned into a few minutes before Eclipse could find the answer within herself.
The pit. The Baali. She has darkened. Has turned her back to what is holy and she will pay a painful price for doing so.
Mother would not be proud.
Not even five fucking days.
“Eclipse,” Rain’s hand grabbed onto her shoulder as he pleaded.
“It’s okay Rain,” her lie couldn’t convince a fly, “it’s something I have to deal with.”
“I wanted to take you to the library… you love books,” he looked sad.
“Go without me.”
The look in his eyes told her more than what either of them were willing to speak.
Stay with me, those eyes pleaded, don’t leave again.
“You act as if I’m breaking up with you,” Eclipse tried to joke but it hit a brick wall. Rain looked close to tears.
Shit.
Rain’s phone buzzed and his heartbreak left with the notification.
“Look, I have to go.” When’s the last time she got stood up? “I’ll tell the others I made a comment about Izac and you are upset with me. I have to go.”
I have to go keep up appearances is what he forgot to add. Rain’s a magician, remember?
Everything is a show.
Alone in a coffee shop.
She’s missing her laptop and notebook.
Notebook…
Left to protect the only thing she has left of Izac, Eclipse pulled out his journal that always sits in a hidden pocket of her leather jacket, against her heart.
The pen was knocked into the spin as if it was waiting to be picked up again.
By the time she was done writing, her coffee had gone cold. How long did she sit and ruminate over these pages for almost boiling water to go cold?
Long enough to regret her efforts, selfish enough to keep them in the book.
Eclipse collected herself. Cleaned up her clothes, brushed her fingers through her hair and fixed her bangs. A man watches her from a table. Glasses, laptop case and probably a cappuccino. She knows the type.
Not Izac.
No, he is not and Eclipse isn’t hungry enough to leave a trail.
Eclipse lets her legs wander.
She’s washed down the gutter and left to dry. Again.
Cold.
Black.
Dead.
Dawn is not warm, it’s a black sun.
Can you feel that?
The black smoke around her can pool at her feet. Its tendrils turn into a chain in her grasp. Just one sentence and she can pull one of them forth from the depths itself.
The chain disappears as she peers over the harbour bridge. Almost similar to the view from Rain’s place but touchable.
Eclipse is the most inhuman she had ever been and yet, this scene is only missing a group of friends and a drink.
We need a new name.
This is a perfect place to think of one.
Notable NPCs
Abrams: Ventrue, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Agaricus: Children of the Moon, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Alicia: Toreador Vampire met at the Crow Bar
Ambrogino: 5th Generation Vampire, Cappadocian and Elder of the Giovanni Clan.
Avel: Rain’s mother, a wraith.
Beelzebub: Fallen angel, demon entity in Rain’s pocket watch.
Blanco Falzo: A man who had made into the likeness of Stallion’s dog for a time. Now deceased.
Bobby Lisner: Malkavian seer who lives in an old Sewer pipe in The Rocks.
Brendan Virgil: A.K.A. Miss Divine Intervention. Rain’s close friend.
Bruce: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni
Cabolut Hazzim: the name given by a vampire who cleared out the homeless at Rain’s old squat. Prince’s Assassin.
Days of the Week: Pseudonyms for members of the Baali group Eclipse (Luna) is now part of.
She is Sunday, and they are missing Wednesday. Tuesday seems to be their nominal spokesperson, though they seem to have no leader.
Delith: Ambitious Ventrue bar staff at the Crowbar.
Detective Woodman: NSW Police ‘premiere’ detective and a sufferer of schizophrenia. He has an assistant currently called Notetaker.
Doctor Willis Hodge: Ghost acquaintance of Dominic Giovanni’s from the Coroner’s Court.
El Torcedor: “The Twister” or ore accurately, “The Fleshcrafter” A Tzimisce from South America
Founders of Sydney Masquerade: Those still alive: Abram, the Ventrue, in Canberra, Wid, the Nosferatu in Wollongong, Agaricus, Child of the Moon, Tasmania, Montague Layton, Toreador current whereabouts unknown.
Francis Tuttle: Name given in charge of the investigation into the deaths of homeless in Surry Hills.
Garcia: Sire. Unknown location.
Giuseppe Giovanni: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni and nephew.
Kenneth Stahl: South African Giovanni (exiled)
Lady Merritt Stone: A very old and powerful vampire that has taken an interest in Izac. Rain spoke to her about the Coterie and Izac’s mission
Lambach Ruthven: Kin met at the theatre. Sire of Dracula. Drug addict.
Lenny: Rain’s Ghoul and artist friend, now with mages. Location unknown.
Lucretia: Childe of Ambrogino, now caretaker of the Pyrmont House and teacher to Dominic
Madeline Blackwell: Ghoul of Mr Giovanni, working at the State Coroners Court.
Montague Layton: Toreador, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Night Rider: Red-haired vampire? Works for the Prince.
Pangea: a Nosferatu (tunnel builder)
Padre Craneo: Nagaraja vampire met at the Crow Bar
Paul: a Nosferatu of the sewer rats
Prince Lodin: Prince of Chicago (until his final death in the 90s) and sire of Al Capone.
Prince Sarrasine (Sar-ras-seen): Toreador Ruler of Sydney*
Sebastian Melmoth: Kin met at the theatre. Powerful Toreador. Oscar Wilde.
Shara-had: Banu Haqim (Assamite).
Sparrow: a Nosferatu of the warren in Pyrmont, closest to home
Teeth of Titanium: Werewolf dingo met in Leichhardt.
The Prestiege: The speak for the four Tremere met at the Blavatsky Lodge.
The Woman: A powerful being of unknown name who kidnapped Izac and enchanted Rain.
Tom: A sleeping head awakened by Dominic in the Dreamtime.
Wid: Nosferatu, and one of six founders of Sydney Masquerade
Glossary of terms:
Anarchists: a faction of Vampires. Caused issues in Los Angeles recently, killed the Prince.
Antediluvian: from before the time of the biblical flood. The third generation that were the progenitors of the thirteen clans of vampires.
Baali: A bloodline bent on keeping beings old before time from waking up and destroying everything. Eclipse and the Days of the Week are Baali.
Banu Haqim: Also know as Assamites, Assassins though sometimes just mercenaries for hire.
Bone Gnawers: A pack of werewolves
Blood hunt: A process to destroy a vampire who has broken a tradition. Specifically mentioned in the sixth.
Blood worm: What a possessed vampire can turn into.
Black Spiral Dancers: A pack of werewolves that worship a being of entropy.
Brujah: One of the twelve clans of Cain.
Canaanites: Those descended from Cain, the first murderer and vampire.
Camarilla: a faction of Vampires closest to the Princes. Believe in hierarchy and order.
Children of Osirus: Bloodline outside the Caine family tradition who practise Bardo, a discipline to control the beast. Izac’s current Bloodline.
Children of Seth: Bloodline the Prince is rumoured to be (originally?)
Clan or Bloodline: From one of the children of Caine or subsequent established lines of vampires.
Christopher Charlton: Rain’s pseudonym.
Marauder: A mage gone mad. Living in his own pocket dimension that answers to the whim of his broken mind.
Diablerie : the drinking another vampire blood and soul
Favour: How Vampires pay for things they want or need doing.
Fetter: A place, person or thing that binds a wraith to the Shadowlands.
Gangrel: A bloodline of vampire. Stallion’s Bloodline.
Ghouls: Servants of a vampire who have been fed vitae. They are loyal, stronger, and more resilient, and sometimes, they show other powers gained from the blood. They must receive the blood at least once a month or they return to being human. Can be addictive.
Giovanni: A vampire bloodline that keeps within genetic family ties. Dominic is a Giovanni.
Glasswalkers: A pack of werewolves
Hunter: Members of the Society of Leopold, a branch of the Catholic Church. Fanatical vampire hunters and killers.
Kin: Short for Kindred. Vampires, a name among themselves
Kine: Humans
Marauder: a rouge mage, often mad. They are likely to act in a way that exposes the Otherworld of the Masquerade to exposure.
Masquerade : The rule that keeps vampire society safe. Hiding ones nature from the world.
Nagaraja: A bloodline that are obligated to eat the flesh as well as the blood of their victims.
Men in Black: An international unit dedicated to controlling supernatural and alien entities.
The Red List: a universal kill list of vampires. Maintained by the Camarilla, anyone on the list can be mudered without question.
Sabbat: a faction of Vampires that believe that the progenitors of the clans will one day awake and eat all their young.
The Theosophical Society: A private society of learning and tolerance based out of the Blavatsky Lodge, St. Leonards (https://sydney.theosophicalsociety.org.au)
Tremere Pyramid: A strict hierarchical structure that all Tremere are part of. Every member knows their place within the Pyramid. The antidiluvian, Tremere, sits at the top of this pyramid.Below him, the number seven is repeated through the clan’s structure.
Toreador: Bloodline of Vampire. Rain’s Bloodline.
Traditions: Six laws that vampires live by.
Vaulderie: A ritual where Kindred swear loyalty to each other.
A Strange Life 