Memoirs of The Rose

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 8 (v.1) - The Blood is the Life and Tuomas' Notes

Submitted: March 15, 2013

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Submitted: March 15, 2013




Lord Bloodthorne's Musings

Ah, such foolishness on my part. It seems that in my endeavor to inform my young guest of the very real and near danger that may well send her to a hurried grave, I may have done just that. I saw her become ghastly pale behind the veil of her gossamer hair, her eyes wide with realization of my grim statement. She started, rigid in fright's vice-like grip; before the limpness of forced repose took claim and she sank against the floor of my chamber.

There was no time to call for assistance on the part of the guards.

I lifted her slight form upon my own, setting her back down upon the ornate lounging sofa. Tuomas must have heard my silent call, for he readily appeared; a specter in his own right. My staff is few, even more so of those whom I trust. He is one of them. Not a word passed between us, yet it was known what I required. He stepped over to better examine Miss Rose and to gain a better understanding of the circumstance, In the self-same quietude, he produced a vial from a satchel at his side and set it under her nose. The proper effect registered, and the patient stirred.

With a solemn nod, Tuomas stated that all was well, and vanished without a trace.

I turned back for my own examination of Miss Rose, and saw that her breathing was even and a semblance of color had returned to her features. She remains at the present within a daze, and I dare not speak again until she is more alert. Even as I sit close by to write, I have not removed my focus to allow for any relapse. Her heart is weak, yet the beat of it resounds loudly to my attuned ears. The rush of blood through veins, pulsing through the mortal circulatory system. All is well for the moment, and I dare not draw attention to the spot of crimson upon the ground.

She must have fallen heavily enough to cause a small injury to herself, and the spot upon the floor carries it's own gleam of hope. A small sprout of vine has sprung up out of the lifeblood, a crimson bud beginning to blossom.

Is this what Nicolae wished to convey unto me? Do I even possess the will to cultivate such theory further....?

- Katsuto


Tuomas' Notes

Time: Unknown.

Date: Unknown.

Location: Unimportant.

It was quite the oddity to see parchment and ink upon the Lord's desk. He who had once spoke to me that such as my own writing was folly in this land. This conversation of so many years ago. Yet I have written on. I have documented everything in this kingdom. Therefore, why stop now?

Regarding Miss Rose:

This has been my very first meeting of the mortal that holds such interest to my Lord; if it can even be termed a proper meeting. She is young, yet I am told wise beyond her years. It is quite easy to see that she would be the incarnation of the Rose's spirit. I have made it habit to study and restudy the volumes in the library. Myth, legend, as well as every illness or demise documented here. I am doctor in this place: soother of wounds, provider of medicines. If I were not as well versed in my profession as possible, I'd likely be as all who have come before. Deceased. Death at the hands of others.

Ah, but I am off topic.

Miss Rose is the exact duplicate of her namesake. From the dark crimson of the iris to the hair of moonlight's purity. In my brief examination it was simple to see her weakness. Frail as a child in her mortality, yet the weakness extends further. Be it from birth or developed after adolescence, I remain uncertain; yet without the flower of Immortality, her years would most certainly not be long in the land of the living.

Death lays it's claim quickly, does it not? Often taking what is not ready, and always doing so in unexpected swiftness. Yet, if Death's gaze upon the girl were as sharp, keen as the Lord's; well, these words would need not be penned in the first, and my meeting would be posthumous.

Ah, the ill-fated timing of the Lord's call. I shall return hastily.


Now, where was I?

The Lord had summoned me once more into his chambers to examine a spot of blood upon the floor. Rose herself was not present, yet the crimson stain most assuredly spoke of her. A sprouting blossom rose forth from the miniature pool; and I was asked to gather it up for a more accurate analysis of it's structure. I did so, inquiring as to where he had sent the unwilling, or more accurately, unaware donor. He replied, speaking of how he aided her return to her own chambers, posting guards at the doors. A most wise judgment. I sought no further knowledge as to the most current state of things. I know better. For now, I have my task and that is enough. I shall work swiftly.

- Tuomas

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