The Legend of Juliet: Part One (A Vampire Dystopia) (Finding Freedom Novellas) (3 page)

So, not knowing any better, and not caring anything for his authority, I had immediately fought back.

I had kicked at his leg, putting as much force into the blow as I could manage. “Lemme go!” I had shouted as I’d scrambled away, hissing at the dragon-man as if I were a vampire, too. “I’m not going with you!”

I had hid behind the settee as the dragon-man rubbed at his now sore leg, though it couldn’t have hurt that much (especially since he was a vampire, and they healed quickly, overly so if they were a Pureblood). His black eyes had burned holes through me from where he had stood, over by the fire. My parents had gasped at my behavior as Miss Mercy had stared at me, her mouth open slightly, most likely trying to figure out how to fix the situation that I had placed myself in – how to make it so that I wouldn’t be killed.

I should have died then, committing the highest act of treason against the Masters of the world – striking back, rebelling, revolting against the vampire’s will.

I should have died.

And I probably would have, if one thing hadn’t happened to change everything in my life—

The front door had swung open of its own accord for the second time that night, just as the dragon-man had been about to pounce on me and no doubt choke me to death while everyone watched, unable to interfere. Time had appeared to pause as a figure stepped into the space, covered in the little white specks that were named “snow”, their hazel eyes landing on me immediately, as if they had known that I was there – that I was the one who they had been searching for, that I was the one who they had been sent to save; it had been as if an invisible chain linked us from the very beginning.

Sibold had arrived, and though I hadn’t known it at the time, he had come to save me.

Chapter Three

Sibold was a wonderful Master. He was probably the most wonderful Master in the entire world, from what I had seen and heard. Even though we both knew we weren’t equals, he always tried to give me the best of everything, and that included an education; formally, he could write this education off on the notion that he didn’t wish to have a terribly simpleminded slave, and the other vampires would nod their heads in agreement (they had little say because of their social status, and for once, Master Delouge didn’t care), but he had made it clear to me time and time again that his real reason was for my benefit.

My eyes widened as I blinked at the new book in my hands, heavy with a dusty, hard cover, much unlike the books I was normally given, which were often bound with leather instead of the thick, paper-like substance that bound this one.

“Interesting, Juliet?” Sibold’s hazel eyes never left my face as he tried to ascertain what I thought of my new book, what might have been running through my mind; he was always trying to figure out what exactly it was that I was feeling, and I appreciated, loved that about him. “I assumed it would be good for you to read something different than your normal curriculum.”

I was so confused with the reality of the book in my hands, so enthralled by its cover, with the new book’s title, that I couldn’t find it in myself to answer him. It was called “
The Civil War
”, and it seemed strange to me that Sibold would give me a book about war, since slaves were forbidden to speak of war…if they even were allowed to know what it was, as tales of war may lead to thoughts, and thoughts may lead to an uprising, though they were more fearful of our destruction in that regard than theirs; the vampires were proud, but even they couldn’t erase the fact that they
needed
us, since we were their only source of food – they had to admit it openly, though they never failed to scowl, hissing at the truth.

I had been learning about the world from books since Sibold had taught me to read, tutoring me patiently a few months after I had arrived at the Manor, when I had finally begun to trust him; in fact, looking back I had a feeling that those reading sessions had led to me trusting him much more than anything else had, showing that he truly cared about me, slave or not. Most human slaves never learned the art of reading, their Masters finding it to be ‘unimportant’, too closely related to thinking, since knowledge would come with reading, and ideas would spawn from that, but Sibold...like I said, he was
different
. As a vampire, a Master, someone who could have anything he wished at his fingertips in mere moments, he loved to read, and soaked up words whenever he had the chance, often carrying a book around with him to read in between performing his duties, so it was only natural that I should be allowed to do the same, human or not, for the sake of him being saved annoyance; sometimes, he asked that I read to him when he was lethargic, or simply didn’t want to do it himself – I liked to think that he enjoyed the sound of my voice, even if it was wrong of me.

“T-This is an a-ancient book,” my voice was quiet, wavering a bit, when I finally managed to speak, still staring at the book’s cover, my eyes tracing the lines of the letters; Sibold had taught me both the vampire’s alphabet, letters comprised of rustic, bold runes, and English, which he said had once, before the vampires had come to power, been a centric language to the humans. “It’s...a rectangle.”

Sibold laughed softly at my reaction, as I gingerly opened the book’s cover, many times worn, the letters beginning to fade. “Yes, it certainly is,” there was a hint of humor in his voice, reflecting his chuckle, which caused me to look up, though I stopped my gaze from traveling before I could see his face – not because I would get in trouble, as we were alone, but because of his vicinity; he was close. “It was printed previous to the
Vampoli leil Liaste
, one of the few copies left to us.”

I nodded, recalling the history that I had learned years ago now, the story playing out in my mind.

The
Vampoli leil Liaste
– “Dawn of the Vampires” – was the time in history when the vampires had come to power after their long, seemingly eternal (proverbial) slumber. It had started simply, with a few vampires taking office or rule throughout the world, but then it had grown, festering into something monstrous. The vampires who were in charge had informed the humans that they only wanted peace—wanted to work together to create a new society, where they would hopefully be able to end their curse, free themselves from their need of blood through the scientific methods the humans had possessed, but—

I clutched the book a little tighter in my hands as I frowned, remembering the truth, what Sibold had told me, letting me read from a history book that had been written specifically for
Vampoli estinee
, or vampire children, never intended for the humans.

During the vampire’s plea for peace, the humans had realized the truth: that the vampires were slowly dying hiding in the shadows; the vampires had congregated in secret, and had decided to do something to change their fate, to cling to their lives – they had begun building a secret army behind the humans’ backs, amassing a military, the revered Heads (one of which had been, and still was, Sibold’s father, Master Delouge) gathering forces and preparing to strike while their elected vampires spread the word of peace to the humans, some of which believed it, and some of which didn’t; the ones who didn’t never gained enough followers to build an arsenal against what they believed would transpire, the vampires’ world domination power-play. The age of the humans had already begun to end by the time the truth had been discovered, and there had been no turning back from that point on; the humans had lost their Earth, their homes, and their lives, and with it their freedom, and their right to decide – their very
humanity
.

“Will you not read, Juliet?” I nearly jumped when I heard Sibold’s voice, traveling to me from only inches away, shocked out of my earlier thoughts as I gasped and stumbled back; in my thinking I had become lost, and he had leaned down until we were at eye level, a sly smile playing across his lips, faint, as he’d watched my vacant expression with amusement.

I had to stop thinking, I told myself, chiding as I gathered my wits about me. Sibold’s closeness never failed to unsettle me...though, not in a particularly bad way.

I nodded as I snuck what I thought was a glance at him, making him grin slightly, his hazel eyes narrowing a bit as he chuckled lowly. I turned and settled into my chair, flipping a few pages into the book as I prepared to read, loving the way that the letters curved; most books now were written in the vampires’ language, so it was a special treat for me to be able to read one that was written in English – the slaves and vampires still spoke in English, though the vampires’ used their native tongue too when talking to one another about something important, something they didn’t want their slaves to hear...though most of the time they hardly cared.

As I stared down at the book now lying in front of me on the polished, wooden table that I often studied at, I marveled. It was a strange book, an old book, one I had never seen before, one that most likely was often only viewed by vampires like Sibold – vampires related to a Head, Purebloods. But despite the book’s oldness, the thing that intrigued me most was the shape, because the books we had now—which were mostly history books about our vampire rulers, or books of science, literature, and a thing called science-fiction, catered to our Masters—were made of half-circles, opening into full circles, the edge of the pages rounded.

But this book...it was something entirely different. It was a rectangle, and the pages were also rectangles, and when you opened it up, it almost made a square.

The book had come from the
Eridium Liaste
, the world before the vampires’ rule—

The world that had been ruled by humans.

I searched through the pages for more than an hour, gobbling up the information on them like a caterpillar gobbled up leaves, furthering my metamorphosis; Sibold often said that knowledge and experience shaped us into who we were, defined our beliefs, and I felt like I was being shaped even as I read those pages, something growing, transforming within me. I found with every page that I turned, and every word that I read, I became more and more confused, until I wasn’t sure which way was up, and which way was down, though it wasn’t a confusion that I disliked, because it was causing my mind to work; I was doing the forbidden –
thinking
. It didn’t make sense, the words on the pages, no matter how hard I thought.

How could there have been a war that was “civil”, and how could slaves ever become free?

“Master,” Sibold was reading a book opposite me, sitting on a plush, leather green chair, when I spoke, stopping in the middle of a paragraph, no doubt pulling him from one as well, “I don’t understand.”

Sibold kept his nose in the book for a moment, but I could see a hint of his smile over the top of the pages as his eyes narrowed in amusement. “Oh?” he asked as his dark eyebrows raised, his voice more smug than I’d ever heard it, as if my confusion were humorous – and it probably was, because I had a feeling that he’d wanted me to be confused, that he’d wanted me to read this book for a specific reason. “What is it that you don’t understand?”

It seemed that Sibold was testing me.

Honestly, I didn’t understand anything about the book, but I didn’t want to tell him that. Sibold had been so kind, teaching me how to read, that I didn’t want to dishonor him in any way because I was confused, because I couldn’t figure out what the words I was reading meant.

“Well...” I tried to keep my eyes focused on the floor, but they floated up towards Sibold until I was staring at him – not (somewhat) sneakily glancing, as I had been before; I took a few seconds to note how beautiful he was, as most the vampires were, “concerning the slaves...” I swallowed thickly saying
the
word, but he didn’t appear to mind; some Masters didn’t like their slaves using that word, thinking that in using it casually they would begin to no longer identify themselves with it, “why is it that only some humans were slaves before, and not all of them?”

Sibold’s book was gingerly placed on his lap as he sighed, brushing the brown hair from his face so that I could get a better glimpse of his mesmerizing eyes. I sat in my seat, quite unable to breathe as he looked back at me. “Why indeed, Juliet?” he asked as his gaze roamed to the book sitting before me, and then traveled back to me, causing a shiver to echo up my spine. “What is your opinion concerning this?”

I bit my lip as I finally looked down, tearing my gaze from Sibold – a hard thing to accomplish – feeling embarrassed because I’d been staring at him for longer than a few moments; this really was unacceptable, but I was beginning not to care, something dangerous for a human slave.

What was my take on it?

To tell the truth, I wasn’t quite sure how I felt about the information contained within the book. Being a slave myself, it was frowned upon to think of freedom, or of history – or of anything, for that matter – so I had never really given deep thought to the idea that humans could be free; I wanted it but the rules had kept me barred, thinking only slipping in between the cracks, haunting my dreams at night, taunting my mind during the day.

Freedom was unheard of in this time. All of the humans were slaves now, not only the humans who had a particular shade of skin.

It really didn’t make any sense.

Why would one human ever think they were better than another human? The vampires were above us, but they were another race – similar to humans in some ways, but oh so different in others.

The vampire society had no rules regarding treatment of other vampires as lesser, aside from their caste system, which focused solely on blood and power; skin color was of no consequence. Sibold’s best friend L’Hier had dark skin, an enchanting shade that complemented his equally enchanting personality, but not one vampire treated him any different than the other Purebloods...except perhaps Sibold or his father, but that was only because Elisi Seven was so large, and they ruled it (power); vampires were well known for being prideful and power hungry, more than willing to bow down to those who were ‘above’ them if it would elevate their status in the system – or if it would spare their life later on down the road. And Emma, my closest friend save Luke, wasn’t treated any differently than I was, and she had skin that was nearly the same shade as L’Hier.