It’s a whole new year with all the same old problems. And I’m not going to say something along the lines of “an ending is just a new beginning” – because that is overly cheesy and too logical to point out.

After months of preparation I managed to meet Phelan in private. What should have been words of wisdom on how to deal with the beast was, basically, just him telling me that it’s different from kindred to kindred. In essence not very helpful then. Since I didn’t expect to get much out of that conversation anyway it wasn’t much of a loss. And maybe he thinks that I really wanted to know. Which wouldn’t be too far fetched. Might gain me some reputation with him. His clan. Once one of them actually shows up.

Then there’s Dee. Talk about truth weighing a person down. I asked her about her future. What she’d wish for. Basically it all revolves around being with me. Something that was to be expected, given the fact that I keep her on a constant supply of my blood. On the other hand she was always someone who wanted to stand on her own feet. Someone who enjoys her personal liberties. Part of that still remains. She cherishes the chance of immortality at my side. More so when it comes with free will. In granting that I would offer her the possibility of turning her back on me. And I… I just can’t bear the thought, so I stick to what I have. The longer I do the more I run the risk of accidentally killing her. This literally can’t go on forever. Now that I know her mind I will have to make up my own some time soon. I still hate either option. And no matter how much the idea pains me, I can no longer discuss it with the others. It’s a personal problem. It’s in the way. Something that weighs you down when you don’t have the capacity to handle it properly. Therefore it must be disregarded. For as long as I can.

At the gathering Hope was there. She seemed friendly enough. If only she wasn’t stupid enough to let on that she’s onto Mascha and Jason. Stupid. Very stupid. If she starts causing a commotion she can only end up losing. And her standing isn’t big enough that there’d be enough people who’d jump at the chance of rescueing her. Her sibbling. Perhaps. But she should be smarter than that.

Doctor Euler finally graced us with his presence again. The man is clever, I have to give him that. However, he is it in a way that always assumes that most of the others are just as bright as he is. He thinks the others do just as much of an interpretation as he does. Only – they don’t. And then he ends up wondering why nobody realizes a thing or two. Or wonders about implications that nobody but him would ever even see there. I sympathize. Doesn’t help either of us. He will have to show more presence than what he used to give the past couple of months.

Of course there’s always people around who know best. Father Shepherd is one of them as well. While most people are worried about how we’re lost without a prince ruling over us – which has been the case for mere months. What the fuck, people! It’s not like you’ve spent a lifetime lost in the woods! Anyway. What’s it that troubles this sweet mind? People not knowing the line of princes that has been ruling over Marburg for the last decade. Yeah. Like that’s gonna matter right now. You know, I can see how history would influecne the present. But in all honesty, there’s a time for everything. Right now? Not the time for history lessons. Get a grip.

Everything is a matter of priorities. And people have a huge problem with getting those right. Joseph? Keeps losing his toys. And then he’s all bamboozled over how he managed to get fucked with this time. Boohoo, pal. Keep your eyes open. Or be enough of a bad-ass so people won’t try. What’s it he does instead? Tosses about the furniture, damn near to bursting my ear drums. Thanks for that, mate! I call him on that. And what it he does? He starts pointing fingers at Hope and Esmeralda while I couldn’t care less about who touched his stuff. I need my ears. Without my ears I can’t function properly. Don’t. Tamper. With. My. Hearing.

Didn’t get to see much of Thomas. Still not sure what to think of him these days. He’s somewhat withdrawn again. And when I do see him he comes off like someone who’s lost all of his marbles. Would be a shame. Could be wrong though.

Then there’s my dear fish. If there’s a prize for rotten judgement… Yeah, well. If I were to believe what he says, then he sometimes is happy around me. In his own way. Only his own way seems to involved making everyone around him believe that he’s undergoing straight torture. The way he experiences joy comes off as rejection to everybody else I know. He means well. Most of the time. Now all I need to figure out is how to portray his feelings properly. A true christmas miracle. Not fucking likely to happen. Bleh. It’s emotional bleeding to death. Everytime I’ve seen him I need to hook up with Dee, just to be sure I can still feel anything at all. And I’d be mad at him too, if it was intentional in any way or form. But he simply doesn’t know any better. Being a good teacher, I should be able to teach him then. But, never to say there is no improvement. There has been voluntariy kissing, I am proud to note. Better not to remind him though. He might feel to embarassed to ever do that again. … And do I sound like a teenager or what?

At least I’m not the only teenager around. Last night I must have walked in on Jason and Mascha somehow. I don’t envy them for their position. Having to take orders, having to hide. Having to watch their back because of Hope. As if there wasn’t enough already to make their life difficult. Then again, if there’s someone who can take the heat, then it’s probably those two. I certainly hope so. Keeping my fingers crossed for them. They deserve a bit of a good time. What worries me about Jason is that he’s become more careful about himself again… He’s harder to really touch these days. That, or he’s just busy thinking about what’s going on in his head. That thing with Hope cost him dearly. He’s not the same. He has a home here. And family. I’m just not quite so sure about the who is who in this family.

The event of the past couple of weeks? I’ve been to see Styx. Came to get his advice. Which meant I had to reveal more about Jacques and myself than is good for either of us. But there was no choice. I had to. And I live to tell the tale. Didn’t like his advice much. If the prince doesn’t return the only option we have for now is to support the fish as prince. Which is bullshit, because it would kill him within a matter of months, weeks more like. And I don’t wnat that. Why? Because the concubine always dies with her master. And I have no intention of facing final death just yet. Also he’s too decent a guy to get himself killed for a bunch of idiots like that. Sadly, however, that doesn’t change the way things are. He is our only option. Reality is a bitch. Jacques can’t lead. Why? Because he hates it. He doesn’t want to do it. And he hates having to pretend. And if the two things that can make him comply are the oath to a prince in torpor and the blood I alegedly (yet involuntarily) forced down his throat – then that’s a pretty bad reason to take a crown for. It will get you killed along with everyone you happen to like. … So I’m preparing to die some time soon. Or rather: I’m taking precautions. I am way too young for all of this. Bummer.

“Leave us, Gregory. I will let you know if there is anything we need.” Die Stimme der Frau wickelte sich wie Seide um den Verstand des Butlers. Warum genau er sie so anziehend fand, konnte er nicht sagen. Seltsam. Dabei hatte er immer gedacht nur Master Elyot würde sich für ihn je so anhören. Er gehorchte, ging. Auch wenn es ihm sehr widerstrebte seinen Herrn so zurückzulassen. Noch dazu bei ihr.
Sie wiederum saß auf einem Ohrensessel, hatte ein Bein über das andere geschlagen und beobachtete in höchster Faszination – nun ja, zweithöchster, da noch mit voller Auffassungsgabe gesegnet – den Mann, der ihre Kreatur war. Ein Werkzeug, das durch sein Denken den meisten bereits meilenweit voraus war, trotz aller physischen Einschränkungen.
“It is merely an illusion, Nathaniel. You are no longer alive. Your head cannot feel physical pain from mental stress. You are imagening all of this. You might as well stop.”
Wenn es nur nicht so faszinierend aussehen würde. Zuerst war da dieser Hauch von Orange gewesen, der sich in seine Aura geschlichen hatte, immer präsenter wurde, bis er von jetzt auf gleich durch ein kräftiges Purpur überdeckt wurde. Aber auch das war nicht von Bestand, wurde erst von einem kräftigen Rot, dann einem matschigen Braun übermalt. Blutrot, ein flammendes Orange, durchzogen von mattem Grau erwuchsen daraus, bis alles zu einem kränklich wirkenden Gelb in sich zusammen fiel. Das erneute Aufflackern von Rot, welches diesmal jedoch schnell in kleinen Funken von Orange und diesem kränklichen Gelb verging. Schließlich schossen schwarze und dunkelrote Zungen daraus hervor. Dann… Versank erneut alles in rot, während weiße Blitze durch die Farbe hindurch zuckten. Immer wieder. Und wieder.
Sie seufzte, genoß den Anblick. “You are so very beautiful when you are in pain, my dear… If only you could see yourself now… If that is the art your mind does to your soul, my child, then you must suffer so that our kind may see this.”
Stille, dann ein gläsern klingendes Lachen ehe sie sich erhob und auf ihre Schöpfung zutrat. “And when you have seen enough, exprienced enough… felt enough, my dear child…” Ihre Hand strich über seine vom Blut schweißnasse Stirn. “Then I will come for you. And you will let me see the wonderful splendor of all the suffering your knowledge may bring you.”
Zu ihm hinab gebeugt flüsterte sie ihm lächelnd die wenigen Worte zu, die nötig waren seinen in einem weiteren Rätsel gefangenen Geist freizusetzen. In dem Bewusstsein, dass sie ein neues Rätsel finden müsste um ihn wieder an diesen Punkt zu bringen. Es würde wundervoll werden. Und er würde nie lernen diesen Schmerz zu genießen. Seine Farben würden stets für sie leuchten. Mit den Jahren würden es mehr werden…