Dawn to Dust

To my beloved one-fanged Poutine.

Foretaste

March 24th 2012. Tonight is my birthday. I love birthdays. Well, I used to, but I am not so sure anymore; times have changed and so have my cravings. Anyway, this one is special: it is my 102nd birthday! I have finally come of age, free to go and think as I like, to fly with my own two wings, if I can put it that way. For I have no gift nor least of all any interest in flying. But mind you one cannot be sure of anything in this world, and any case I would need some help... And such help would surely call for compensation and have some heavy consequences, so one must weigh the pros and cons. I will see later, for I have plenty of time; I have only recently turned immortal.

My human life span still remains hazy; many blank pages make up the book of this life. With the passing of time and sparingly, some memories reappear as strange and familiar flashes of light. I have eventually enjoyed their appearance. At first, they unsettled me, I could not control them, I felt I was floating, going off, rambling... I mean I was alive. And then these images would vanish as quickly as they had come. I found it hard to keep these memories within my mind. It was actually torture and unfailing frustration. So for fear of forgetting them forever, I wrote them down in nice little leather-bound logbooks. This is what I used to do before advances in modern technology. Now, my memories go into computer files to which I add any relevant comments. From time to time, I go on using the good old pen and paper that will be recycled, just in case... One has to live with one’s times and take all necessary precautions. But most important of all, it is a vital asset to fit the pieces of my past life’s puzzle together while my new one is under way...

Chapter 1

One night, I woke up lying on a smooth velvet chaise longue in the middle of a dark room where only a thin horizontal ray of light was visible under the doorframe. My whole body aching and stiff all over, I was feeling less than clear-headed with hazy images flashing in front of my eyes without my being able to identify them and for a very good reason.

I could not tell where I was and least of all how I happened to be there. I had much trouble remembering what day it was. All of a sudden, one clear image came to my mind. I could picture myself blowing the candles of a birthday cake, and if I remember correctly, I had seen twenty-seven harmoniously laid-out candles. I do think I was born on the 24th of March 1883... I must have had a torrid birthday party to find myself in such a state.

After many an effort, I managed to sit up despite my long, embroidered, sequined, pearl-studded, tulle evening dress. I was wearing no bra, but a small waisted corset and laced panties. My neck was bare, without jewels or personal effects. As I set foot on the floor, I stumbled on shoes covered in a thin layer of dried dirt that crumbled away between my fingers. I imagined they were my shoes, for I had instinctively put them on, and they fit me to perfection. They were sublime, satin-shoes from Hellstern & Sons, embroidered with glass pearls and small wooden heels, their unmistakable trademark.

Reaching out to my right, I could feel with my fingers a cock-feathered hat lying on a small tea trolley. I could not tell whether it was mine or not, for I was under the slight impression that I was allergic to feathers and it tickled my nose. Beside it, there was a half- open velvet reticule embroidered with silver pearls containing a laced handkerchief, a smelling-bottle and a small partly torn piece of paper.

How long had I been there? I had not the slightest idea. My head was so heavy. My wrists were itching, my neck was tingling and strangely enough my groin was slightly irritated. Where the hell had I wound up? And what had happened to me?

I remained there for a while gazing at my pretty shoes that felt as comfortable as slippers with their small heels. I eventually stood up and groped my way round the premises. A thick carpet covered the floor; I took small steps for fear of obstacles on my way. I encountered no sharp or pointed object.

There was nothing but empty space for my hands to feel, sheer emptiness in this dark room. As I was heading towards the thin ray of light, I stumbled upon a weathered chest of drawers on which lay an oil lamp and some matches. After several failed attempts I managed to light it. The light began spreading slowly until the place was fully lit up. My sight blurred, and I was forced to close my eyes. I lowered the wick by delicately turning the small dimmer switch.

A short while later, I was no longer disturbed by the dim light, and I could open my eyes without fear. I was starting to get used to the light, or else I was developing night vision like a cat. I could not make out the colors, but the shapes were quite clear. I looked around the room from its center where I stood. I noticed there was little furniture, thick curtains covering a wide window and in front of me there was this door that must have led somewhere. But where to?

The door was begging me to open it, I took a few steps towards it and my head started swaying. I was about to lose consciousness, but fortunately there was a chair nearby, and I could sit down and come to. All my reference points had suddenly vanished, as had all my memories. Who was I? What was my name? Obviously I must have been suffering from some

sort of amnesia. A passing amnesia in all likelihood probably due to a bad blow on my head. Fingering my head I could feel no bump, nothing unusual, I remained speechless.

A sudden muffled sound roused me. The humming was increasing, gradually approaching the bedroom. The hairs of my arms and legs raised on my delicate skin. The rumbling stopped and was replaced by the laughter or rather the stamping of young ladies. Odd and reassuring at the same time. Then I was not the only living creature in this unusual environment, which I could not define yet. Who were these people? Were they good or evil?

There was a whistling followed by a strange split-second silence. I strained my ears. I concentrated and discovered an intense world of sounds. A gentle stroke like muslin brushing against a wall, small quick steps treading on a brightly polished parquet floor, a metallic clanking, a liquid flowing in a crystal glass. There was a knock on the door. It startled me.

Should I answer? I did not even know if it was meant for me. Feeling uncertain, I shyly invited the person in. The door was unlocked, and it opened. An exhilarating, undefined smell tickled the tip of my nose. Then I saw a shining silver tray with, in the middle, a small glass filled with a dark, thick substance. No idea what it could be, but I was surely drawn by this drink. My nostrils stretched as wide as they could. I was so green with envy that I nearly choked.

A maid with a small shawl on her head and wearing a white apron asked me where she was to put my glass: maybe on the chest of drawers near the door or beside the chaise longue in the middle of the room? The tea trolley looked fine to me and especially as it was farther from the door that had just opened, a sign of possible freedom. I paused and pointed to the middle of the room.

Escaping the maid’s watchful eyes I sneaked out into an endless corridor. I could feel my steps getting heavier and slower. There were doors on either side just for me to open but as I did not know which to choose, I made up my mind to go right to the end of the corridor where there was a large opaque French window. I opened it cautiously. An intimate atmosphere emanated from this large room in the middle of which sat a dinner table that servants were laying for a dozen guests. The decorations were sumptuous with silver candlesticks here and there. Young girls were so busy they hardly noticed me as they were carefully handling this beautiful Jasper white on blue Jasper biscuit set, an unmistakable product of the British Wedgwood earthenware manufactures.

I was starving. The rhythmical contractions of my stomach were coming one right after the other. My mouth watered, my throat and esophagus were distending fast. Suddenly, lights flashed in front of my eyes. The dining room started spinning all around me. Then the house staff began a strange dance round the chairs. Could that be a game of musical chairs? Very unlikely, my imagination must have been playing a funny game with me because I was so hungry or just getting delirious. I had to pull myself together, eat something before I swooned down on the beautiful polished solid oak floor of this stately dining room and among strangers to boot.

Despite all my efforts, I could no longer stand on my own two feet. I fell backward and then everything was gone. Except for a strong smell of salts intoxicating me and forcing me to regain consciousness. Female voices tickled my ears and faces mingled in front of my weary eyes.

“Did you not bring her the drink as you were ordered?” “Yes, we did Madam... But she left the room before I could give her the instructions...”

“Do you want me to call the Healer?” “Put a cushion under her head!” The sound of a deep male voice caused all this cackling to stop.

“Leave it to me, I will take care of her. You can all go about your own business again.”

In no time, I felt light as a feather, relieved of a burden, in the arms of a thirty-year-old man with curly blond hair, heavenly eyes and charming smile. All my senses had come back to me as if by miracle. His plump arms hugged me lovingly. His ivory complexion contrasted with his dark suit that enhanced his vermilion lips, only a few inches from mine. It was as if his generous mouth magnetized me. My neck stretched to the point of brushing against him. An icy thrill pervaded my whole body. How could this mere caress shatter me that way? The more I raised my eyes to him, the hotter I felt. My cheeks must have turned scarlet.

Images began monopolizing my thoughts again. As if in a dream, I could see my lips pressing other lips. Could they be my carrier’s? What was the matter with me? It was sheer madness! I did not even know him. Was I like those ladies of the night who throw themselves at perfect strangers? Surely not. That man radiated such magnetism...

We left the dining room and went back up the corridor I had taken earlier. We walked towards my den or rather we floated to it. What a funny effect not feeling the floor under my feet. His shoes did not touch the ground and his body hardly moved. Could we possibly have been flying? I raised my eyes to my Sherpa. “But we are flying now, aren’t we?” To which he answered in the most imperturbable way: “No, not at all, I am not a Navigator.” Noticing my crestfallen look, he felt obliged to add: “I am a person of many skills but not that of flying.” I looked down again. “But your feet are not touching the ground...” With a faint smile and in his suave voice he whispered: “We are levitating, that’s all.” So we were just levitating: how could I buy that!?! He finally lay me down on the chaise longue and put his delicate hands over my face to brush aside a wayward strand of hair. I moved back a bit, not because I was frightened, but just surprised. His hands were so soft and cold.

“Have a rest while I get you something to drink.” What an exquisite intention. The nice-looking blond turned to his right to reach for the small crystal glass that the maid had brought. He took it to my lips. A true invitation to labial eroticism. Having no intention to annoy my host, I opened my mouth and felt the thick liquid go down my throat. I could not help making a face. I was wordly and I would not spit it out even though I felt like it. What a disgusting drink!

I had never drunk anything so unappetizing; I would not have staked my life on it. The nice-looking blond took a small lace handkerchief with two embroidered initials out of his pocket, which I failed to identify. He wiped my lips and chin with it. Without even opening his mouth, he inquired if I was feeling better. I was stunned. Yes indeed, I was feeling rather good ever since I had sat at his side. I had calmed down and I felt serene now.

“But you are addressing me directly through my mind, aren’t you? Are you a ventriloquist? I did not see your lips move. How do you manage that?”

“There is a time for everything; first drink up your glass to regain your strength before dinner.”

There was no way I would swallow another drop of this poison. He handed the glass over to me, and I could not but take it. His powers of persuasion were so great that my lips

dipped in this Baccarat crystal glass, and I sipped all its content. This second try was quite as unpleasant as the first one. Never again would I drink even the tiniest droplet of this liquid.

“Oh, yes, you will... and I bet you will soon enjoy it.” And he could read me like a book as well! How impudent! Who was he? Some kind of medium or fortune-teller? What right did he have to invade my privacy? I was about to ask him a thousand questions when there was a knock on the door.

Another maid with younger looks than the first one came in, carrying a heap of clothes in her arms.

“My Lord, here are the Lady’s clothes, as agreed...” My Lord just nodded. The young maid put the clothes on the chair near the entrance and left the room as swiftly and pleasantly as she had come. Her small velvet shoes were hardly touching the corridor parquet floor till they vanished from hearing. Once more, he broke into my mind:

“I will let you dress yourself. Just let me know if you need help and I will send you a dresser.”

With these words, he stood up in the most elegant manner. I was watching him. I did not want him to go, I felt safe at his side and I had so many questions to put to him. He touched my lips with his finger and my eyes closed. I inhaled his delicate smell and my whole body shivered.

Before closing the door behind him, he addressed me in a more conventional way. “By the way, I am awfully sorry I did not introduce myself; my name is Soriel, Soriel Arwels.”

He then bowed gently and disappeared...

I found myself alone again in this room with warm wall-coverings and dark paintings which I could admire at leisure. I was still wondering what I was doing in this residence, but I felt safe. I had suffered no harm so far, on the contrary. Since drinking that beverage, my body and my mind had merged into absolute bliss.

I walked up to the chair and seized the peach taffeta dress, which Soriel had prepared for me. There was flesh-colored Chinese silk underwear in a clutch bag to one side. I made sure the door was securely locked and started to strip. How unpleasant it was to undress by myself. No, I was not to take advantage of my hospitable host; I could manage on my own. I first took off my tulle dress and then my panties and corset. How relieved I felt! Corsets were so tight round your waist that you forgot to breathe. I really enjoyed being stark naked, and I decided I would look around this room of wall-coverings.

I let my hands rub wherever they could. I could feel the slightest change of material without even opening my eyes. All my senses had increased tenfold as if by miracle. Going past an alcove, I noticed a hidden door that opened with a little push of my hand.

I saw a small bathroom furnished with a low, yet comfortable armchair covered in flowery fabric, a washbowl and faucet. Just what I needed for a little refreshing! I did not feel particularly unclean, but as I could not remember for how long my body had last been in contact with water and soap, I resigned myself to wash it. But first, I lit up an oil lamp that lay on a small round table. Water trickled jerkingly from the copper faucet into the glass-molded washbasin. I took a natural sponge that lay on the side, moistened it and rubbed my body, starting with my neck. A thin crust of blood fell into the washbasin. Oddly enough, I could feel no scar... I would take care of that later for I must finish washing first and then get dressed. I ran the sponge down over my swollen breast and I felt my tits become hard. My eyes blurred and once again disturbing images filled my mind.

My head was tilting to one side, I was not alone; I could feel the short breath of man. He was hugging and kissing me all over. I was able to see his face for a split-second, and I

thought it was Soriel’s but with dark blue eyes. It could not possibly be him; once again I had fallen prey to a fantasy world... I must wake up and shake myself. Then, I grabbed the sponge to rub my arms, which were in principle a rather insensitive zone, and yet... His sweet lips were slowly sucking my wrists with their hypersensitive veins. I was in his power, I indulged in his caress. I was fainting, my heart beating so fast I felt I was about to have a stroke. If only I could linger on, but it was not possible. I sprayed my face with a lot of water.

When I had finished washing, I walked back to the main room and headed for my new clothes. I started with the underwear, of course, and then I slipped into the peach-colored taffetas dress. It fit me to perfection, as if it had been designed for me. Had my measurements been taken while I was asleep?

I looked for a mirror so that I could admire myself, and though I searched all the nooks and crannies of the bathroom and main room, I found none. I made do with the silver tray lying near the chaise longue; it reflected a hazy figure made prettier by the clothes. I was finally ready; a little set of gold jewels and diamonds would have put the finishing touches to my appearance, but I did not have any, so I would do away with it.

Another faint knock on the door startled me. The door opened to a well-dressed young lady in her early twenties, with very long brown hair. She came to meet me.

“Can I help you? Well, obviously not, you did extremely well... You look very pretty. Follow me, will you. I will show you to the lounge. They will not start eating until you arrive.”

She did not need to coax me into following her. I did not know who that charming woman was, but she was a blooming beauty. She inspired confidence in me though I had no idea why. You would not believe how her clear skin could exude such sensuality and love... Oh, by the way, didn’t anyone ever introduce themselves here? On the other hand, she had not inquired about my name, so why should I inquire about hers?

Passing along the corridor I had got quite familiar with now, I noticed many paintings hanging on the walls, representing family portraits mostly. I lingered by one of them thinking I had recognized my host. It was his spitting image and even carried the same name: Soriel Arwels, yet the painter had written the date 1829, which made me think it would more likely be his father or even grand-father. In those times, the first-born sons were named after their fathers and so on. All the same, they looked amazingly alike. My chaperon called me to order.

“They are expecting you and looking forward to meeting you.” What if they were starving as much as I was, they would be terribly cross with me for not hurrying...

To my great surprise we did not head towards the large French window at the end of the corridor but just before that, to a small door on the left. We walked into a tiny lounge that looked all the smaller as a dozen guests were sitting there drinking. Some of the men were smoking cigars, and the elegant women in evening dresses were fanning themselves while talking. Everybody in the room suddenly stiffened and kept silent instantly. I did not know where to go. At that precise moment, I wished I had been an ostrich and could bury my head in the sand!

Soriel had changed clothes too: he was now wearing a simple yet elegant three-piece suit with silver-colored edging. He came up to me as my chaperon had walked away towards the glowing fireplace to join a man who hugged her and kissed her without restraint. Soriel held out his hand to me:

“Come closer, Dear, that I might introduce you to the Family in a formal way.” I calmed down as soon as he touched me. His hand felt soft and cool. His thumb was running over my forearm as we were heading towards the middle of the room. The guests stood in a circle around us.

“My dear friends, here she is... Welcome her warmly and do your best to guide her; I expect you all to be receptive.”

They all remained where they stood while Soriel quickly introduced me calling them by their strange first names and identical patronymic: Arwels. How large a family Soriel had! Oddly enough they did not look alike. They all belonged to the same 20-35 age group, except for a young girl of under 17. Were they all his brothers and sisters or his cousins maybe? I doubted it.

Everybody had been introduced, and I was afraid I had only memorized but half of their first names. Kaï Arwels then walked confidently over to me with his head tilting to one side. He stared at me then keeping at a distance he bowed and kissed my hand. I nodded to him in turn. That man impressed me a lot with his big sideburns and piercing gaze. He had not mentioned his age but looked the oldest of this gathering. He was rather distant. I felt no confidence in Kaï nor in Dafron, a rather tall, slim man who was at his side. The latter, hardly younger than the patriarch, showed even more restraint and merely nodded after taking off his monocle, blowing the thick smoke of his Oscuro cigar with a turquoise band around it. No physical contact, which suited me alright. I was quite content with Soriel’s silky hand. Both men walked away to resume their conversation which my arrival had interrupted.

They made room for someone called Dafydd, of the same age group. However, unlike the other two, he was beaming, warmhearted and pleasant. He hugged me very hard or rather too hard. I was nearly stifled. His hugging was stopped just in time by Soriel who, pretending he was pressed by time, introduced me to a couple: Blaanid and Malane. They were looking lovingly at each other, holding hands and drinking out of the same glass. Malane was the pretty brown-haired young woman who had come for me a little earlier. I smiled back at her knowing wink. They were a close-knit pair contrary to the other Marlow and Oxalyn couple who looked secretive and sad. Maybe they had just had a row?

We did not linger on too much; Soriel had noticed my embarrassment as well as theirs. I needed to have my mind taken off things and the twenty-year-old twins Kydor and Kalvi did just that for me. They were great for teasing; they would hold out their hands to me in turn without my being able to reach any. They looked perfectly alike with a clear deep bond between them.

Jade and Rona burst out laughing at their pranks. These two young and pretty princesses were straight out of a fairy tale. Were they sisters? Very likely. They rushed to grab my hand and get on with the introductions leaving Soriel to himself. He did not seem too pleased with that, which Dafydd noticed, so he started a conversation with him, but I could not make out a single word. Just another of their witty tricks. It must have been running in the family...

Then it was Dafoldy’s turn, a born charmer, to pay homage to me with a big reverence and an ardent kiss on my hand, but his surge of affection was interrupted by Gurvin, quite as charming but in a different manner. He took hold of both my hands, joined them together in a prayer and kissed my fingertips. The last person I was introduced to was called Soal, a very fragile and shy young girl. She merely smiled at me lowering her eyes and then hiding behind Dafron.

After each guest had been introduced, a bell rang. Soriel took my arm and led everybody towards the dining room where I had ventured earlier. I found it strange that nobody had inquired about my name. Maybe they already knew it. As for myself I still had no idea about it. I let myself be guided without asking myself any more questions. I was starving and I could not wait to have dinner.

We entered the sumptuous dining room, which looked even more magnificent than when I had first seen it. The candelabra spread a gently subdued light. Soriel drew a chair for

me to sit on his left. Malane, the beautiful brunette sat on my chair, and opposite me was Kaï, the patriarch with Dafron, the cigar man to his right. Nobody would pay attention to me any more. They had all resumed their good old habits, and strangely enough I felt like I belonged to their circle or maybe to the setting.

They were all talking freely. I learnt that our good King Edward VII was badly ill, and he would not live much longer. They all looked sad whereas I could not care less. A hidden door opened opposite me to let in Maria, a fat woman in her fifties, wearing a chef’s hat and an apron. She was followed by her kitchen assistants who came to stand behind each of us before laying down a dish-covered plate. At a sign from Maria and in unison, they took off the covers. The guests cried out with joy.

“You have really spoiled us Maria!!!” The two young, pretty princesses Jade and Rona cried out as one.

The head chef bowed, and all her assistants followed her out of the room. I then looked deep into my plate to see a fiery red, spherical heap coated with a viscous jelly. I turned to my neighbor Malane and saw her puncture the bubble with her knife, and a thick liquid flowed out. I could not believe my eyes. I recoiled slightly in disgust. I then turned to Soriel and tried to draw his attention. He was in the middle of a conversation with Oxalyn, the neighbor on his right. He was about to swallow a mouthful of this food when I cried out: STOP!

“Is there a problem?” He merely inquired. “You bet there is! Who are you? What am I doing here? What about that filthy matter, what is it? It is revolting! I want to go, just let me go! I want to go home!”

Kaï addressed Soriel most abruptly. “I told you she was not ready yet. Take her back to her room and get her to calm down; we would like to finish dining peacefully.”

They resumed their dinner while Soriel was dragging me out of the dining room by the waist. I tried fighting back but to no avail; not only did he control my body but also my mind. I could no longer open my mouth so I just lowered my head and followed him like a well- behaved little pet.

Once in the bedroom, Soriel ordered me to sit down on the chaise longue. I obeyed. He started pacing the room, obviously feeling on edge, before sitting beside me and calming down. He took hold of my hands and looked me straight into the eyes.

“You are not going to scream, just keep quiet and listen to me.” I felt slightly relieved and I managed to nod and regain some self-control. I was about to speak when Soriel silenced me with his finger on my mouth.

“Everything is fine, calm down and I will answer all your questions but first you must keep quiet, alright?”

I nodded again and calmed down at last. He began stroking my hair. I felt more relaxed, the mere contact of his skin against mine was driving me mad with pleasure and at the same time the growing fear in me was vanishing.

“I can’t realize what is happening to me and least of all why I am here.” “You are safe here in the Arwels’ ancestral home, which is yours from now on. We are all going to take great care of you and add the final touches to your training so that one day you may create your own Family.”

I felt confused, I could understand his words and yet their meaning escaped me. That man spoke in a really funny way. So I was lapping up everything he said as if it were the gospel truth. Oddly enough, the only thing I could think of then was:

“I am hungry, I am starving. My stomach aches like hell.”