A Breath of Solace
Date: 01.07.2007
Keywords: A, Breath, Solace, of,
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.. more suited for travel at least."
"Thank you," Anne managed before taking the boxes. "I won't be a moment I suppose."
In the side room once again alone with her thoughts, Anne felt a wave of depression fall over her. The reason wasn't for what she had done or what she knew she would do again. Her life or rather her existence was not her own. She was bound to Sasha exactly as she had said; stuck in dependency for information not only concerning vampires but the real world as well.
The cold water brought a chill to her spine as she scrubbed away all the remnant of Mia's scent from face. She wished that her feelings would so easily wash away or that all those spiritual issues she thought were left behind with her old life would actually be gone.
Sadly, Anne's salvation was nothing more than a salve; a temporary solution to something deep rooted in her psyche. Normalcy was never to be achieved for her again. Her path was something so uncertain that it was hard to imagine finding any sort of 'comfort'. How long would carnal desires remain fresh before devolving to motions merely observed for survival?
Anne had often been accused of killing a fun situation with a forward thought that the activity would be boring in the future. Her childhood was full of examples. It was a habit she couldn't help. Living for the moment or in the present wasn't an option most of the time. Constraints on women had a little to do with it but she figured that maybe she was destining herself to be miserable on purpose; that she deserved it for all that had happened to her family.
Anne opened the first box and peered down at the black trousers and white blouse. A dark cloak dominated the bottom with a hood. She stripped off her purloined garments and scrubbed one more time before getting changed. The clothes fit perfectly which made her wonder. They were obviously tailored. Sasha had to have had them commissioned at least a week if not more before they arrived.
She picked up the other box and paced back into the room. Within her second box was a tall pair of boots. Sasha was staring out the window, motionless in his silence.
Anne couldn't get over a feeling of fear; a feeling that Sasha had planned everything out. If it was true and he had watched her for some time then his intentions for her were also well defined. Furthermore, if he continued to refuse to tell her anything about it then it couldn't be all good. But what could she do?
"You promised me a new kind of existence," Anne sat on the bed while pulling on the boots. "You promised to open my eyes so that I could escape all the fears that had consumed me to the point of taking my life."
"And you'll have all those things," Sasha didn't turn to look at her. "All you have to do is show some faith."
"I'm coming to realize something, Sasha," Anne stood up from the bed. The boots were also a perfect fit. She looked herself over while collecting her thoughts. It was time to show him her mind. "Your truth is just a different version of the same lie. You've become the social adversity that plagued my life. I'm reliant on you to the detriment of my own existence. If you hold the answers from me then I would rather seek them on my own."
Sasha didn't immediately respond and Anne held her breath in anticipation. The words had to be said but more than anything a sense of self preservation wished that she could take it all back. The tension in the room was suffocating as she tried desperately not to fidget.
"How... amusing." Sasha followed up with a bitter chuckle. "It may surprise you to know that I said nearly the same thing to the one who turned me."
"What?" Whatever Anne had anticipated Sasha saying, this certainly wasn't close to the first option. "You... what happened?"
"Her name was Aria or at least... that's what she called herself." Sasha finally turned to look at Anne with a far away expression. "Do you know what the name means?"
"Yes, I know." Anne's voice was small.
"I met her in Italy quite some time ago..."
***
Gypsies wander as I'm sure you are fully aware. I was one that gave our people a bad name throughout the world. Thieving, brawling and would not shy away from violence when necessary. My personal preference was always to flee a place when it became too dangerous even to the point of leaving behind what I had taken. There would always be more things to steal.
Years upon years I got away with my lifestyle, avoiding hangings and other forms of execution for my behavior. I did earn a few beatings from time to time but you can't escape all forms of punishment and it was far from a deterrent. I frolicked by the virtue of my luck, good and bad, until I found myself in Italy.
If you've never seen it words are hardly adequate to describe the beauty. Every place holds it's own majesty whether it be insurmountable snow capped peaks or endless fields of swaying grass. Even swamps have a presence that you can feel; something that makes it special above all the climates you can visit. My favorite was always autumn in the countryside of England with a murmuring brook caressing the rocks and golden leaves dancing on the breeze... I digress.
I can't tell you how many times I had been taken by places; how many times I swore to myself I was done traveling and would settle down finally. Really, that was just my way of playing with fancy. The soul of a gypsy is not one to be confined for long and the concept of staying in one place on purpose was totally alien to me.
Yet as I observed the olive groves and the way people took pride in their toils, I was tempted again. Fate had other plans for me regardless of my thoughts and whims. One learns that we can rarely avoid destiny for long... and I've always been a victim of my people's rather blatant superstitions.
We met at night in a small village out in the middle of nowhere. I can't be more accurate even today. Back then I never knew where I was, where I was going and the only part of where I'd been that mattered was how fast I had to leave it. My world was a flowing river that meandered wildly on an indirect course with my inevitability.
I was not a virgin. Peasant girls opened their legs easily enough with the application of a little charm and reckless confidence. My swagger would have offended any respectable woman who had been raised to know better and yet Aria was not put off by me in the slightest.
Allow me to explain.
I saw her standing on the steps of one of those ancient temples. A stone pillar shielded her from the full moon light but even in the shadows she was absolutely radiant. Blond hair hung straight nearly to her waist and her alabaster skin was so flawless I thought she might be the very embodiment of some God from that region's legends.
She wore a pale blue gown made of silk and lace which was cinched at her waist and wrists. The garment was cut to offer a discerning onlooker an excellent view of her perfect breasts. She wore slippers which had been fashionable in some of the cities I'd visited but were impractical for any sort of real travel.
That woman was the sort that a man should avoid and a sensible one would have walked straight away. A man with some sense of self preservation would have briefly wondered what a woman was doing out alone at night and, in such a small village, why someone who could afford that outfit would be there at all.
Unfortunately, I was neither sensible nor particularly wise so I walked right up to her with my broadest grin.
I had thought to dazzle her with my rough good looks as I was never terribly good with languages. The sort of cad that I was believed that the only real method of communication was the intimacy of sex. When she turned her crystal gaze upon me, all manner of boorish intent fled me to make room for awe.
"Good evening, Sasha." She spoke in perfect English with a hint of Irish accent on the edges. "Isn't the moon glorious?"
There were too many things going through my mind to say any one was more prominent than the rest. I suppose I fixated on how she knew my name first, maybe the most sensible thing I could claim at that moment. The one thing that I could not deny was that this was fate—real fate. There are no coincidences in this world.
"Yes," I muttered, unsure if I was talking about the moon or the vision of splendor I couldn't take my eyes from. "Yes, I suppose it really is."
"You love the world, don't you?" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, savoring it as one might a fragrant flower. "You love the time you've spent traveling and experiencing and... living."
"I suppose." It was all that I could manage. When in doubt, men always fall back to flippant indifference. Such a state has been our defense since the dawn of social structure just after a grunt and a good club on the head no longer sufficed to prove one's mettle.
Her smile was as captivating as the moon she admired and when she turned her full attention on me, I physically shrank.
"My name is Aria," She reached out and brushed my cheek with her fingertips; a kiss of what heaven's glow must have been like. "We have much in common, you and I. We both love motion. We both love the intimacy of the night. We both love."
"Yes..." I wanted to add my own thoughts to her poetry but she had stolen my breath away. I was a flesh statue solidified by her allure.
You steal your way through lives," Aria let her hand fall to my shoulder and gripped it firmly. The contact made my heart leap into a swift rhythm. "You have forsaken the company of your own people. You are all alone in this world. You do not admit it but you are weary of solitude."
Aria's words spoke to me on a level that I had not imagined possible; a spiritual answer to questions I didn't have the cognizance to form. They were there. Before me as if I had sought them my entire life. She pulled them out of me as a leach draws blood and the sensation was no less shocking.
"And you"d get all pissy when I inevitably beat you at games of skill.
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Keywords: A, Breath, Solace, of,