*The Unmarked Urn: A Tale of Two Brothers

[Izira Nyte]

[[Originally posted in 2008]]

There is a story behind the unmarked urn of ashes that sits upon the stones of the fireplace and it is a tale Izira doesn’t share. Perhaps at one point of time the urn was a holder of sweet sad memories, now it was little more than a bitter reminder…

Izira had been consumed by madness at the time, wandering the streets of RhyDin in nothing more than a towel taken from the public house she had been staying in. Her hair still wet from the shower that had been abandoned. Ducking away from one made-up shadow after the next, she found herself inside the dark confines of an inn. The people and creatures about her were unknown. Izira moved slowly, keeping her back against a wall. It was as the young woman watched the room that one in the room began to watch her, his thoughts far from innocent as his thirst for blood rose. The vampire stalked across the room, climbing on top of a table that sat before the girl. Izira’s attention found the vampire before her just as he was ready to pounce.

A call back to innocent days, Izira’s mind did not see the deadly being in front of her but something else. Moving towards the hungry man, she lifted a delicate hand towards his face and touched him lightly on the nose…

“Beep.”

Bloodlust drained from the vampires face, replaced by a look of curiosity mixed with awe.

“What is your name?” He asked, as he body relaxed from its ready-to-strike pose.

“Izira.” She responded with a soft smile, “Who are you?”

“Vidi.”

Thus went the meeting of the two.

Vidi took Izira from the inn. He found her clothing to wear in place of the towel and spent the night in her company. They watched the stars in the sky and spoke of many things, though Izira listened more than spoke. At some point of time her mind settled and she seemed almost whole again. Vidi told her he was a vampire, further confessing that he took no pleasure in the curse. Somehow, Izira’s presence gave him strength to follow through with the choice he had made. As the sun rose, he took Izira in his arms and gave her one farewell kiss. When she pulled away from the embrace, he was nothing more than ashes.

Tearing fabric from the bottom of the skirt he had given her, Izira gathered what she could of the ashes as a breeze started to scatter them. As she traveled, those ashes traveled with her… until ending up at the Forgotten Layers Inn. Once she had settled there, so too did the ashes find a home in the urn above the fireplace.

Were that the end of the tale perhaps the urn of ashes would prompt thoughts of that magical night alone under the stars… perhaps Izira would still think of Vidi fondly. Unfortunately, the tale does not end there.

Months had gone by. Izira was settled into her new home when a man found his way to her door. His name was Hawk and he was Vidi’s mortal brother, come in search of him. Hawk hadn’t known about his brother becoming a vampire. It was Izira’s burden to tell the man tale as far as she knew it. Indicating the urn at the end, she offered his brother’s ashes to him. Hawk did not take them. Instead he left, only to return again and again until his presence around her just felt natural. Eventually they became lovers. It was a cruel twist of fate that as Izira found herself enjoying the company of Hawk, Vidi returned. His story to Izira was that his willing sacrifice redeemed him, gave him the power to return to her. Finding his borther with the woman he hoped to be with definately put a damper on things.

The brothers fought. In the end Vidi accepted that his brother had taken the place he thought would remain to him, a place in the life of the woman named Izira. She yelled more at him than apologized, how could he be mad at her for moving on after his death? Vidi left the two to be together, but it was all in vain. Shortly afterwards, the friction created between Izira and Hawk by the return of Vidi, brought out the worst in her and she drove him away as well. Though, each returned to her, the two fighting for her affections until she had enough of both.

That was the memory the urn carried, the bitter memory of two brothers and their love. She did not regret her parting with either of them. In the end both brothers only seemed to want her in order to hurt the other. A game of hearts she wouldn’t play again.