A Yakatuzi Vampyre

This is an insert from 'Forgotten, Warrior'. This part focuses on a myth Xage Ayastigi once knew. Of a bloodkin creature. [Familiarized as the vampire]

 

 

Such a strange thing, when one will turn their back on their entire faith at the simple bantering of an overtired and under stimulated mind, and such was the moment before him as Xage sat outside the rather small and dingy bar. He cared not to enter, for he cared not to be bothered by the likes of man who drink themselves into a stupor. He favoured his time by sitting outside on the oak bench, filling his rolling paper with the mix of old Virginia tobacco and dried Marihuana. He had been doing such for times since before man made law, and he felt not a need to change. Nature created a plant, in which monks of many moons past; ate, dried, smoked, drank and also, would later find the uses of hemp seed for fishing bait and hemp itself to make textiles and clothing.. So why then, would Xage not continue something he has long since partaken in? He wouldn’t. And no rat b*****d filth would stop him either. So he said.

 

His dotted ebony hues glazed over to a near close as the hours lingered on, without a watch upon his wrist or any item storing the information such as a cellular phone, Xage looked to the sky for the source of knowledge. The sun was steadily making its continual movement of sweeping across the sky and allowed the young appearing male to know it was minutes from dying into the background. He had been there since three quarter’s ago. Relighting the tip to the medium tightly rolled smoke, he inhaled before inhaling again rather slow and powerfully and shifting his gaze to the North. The horizon was alight with colours even more vibrant than that which marked out on paper, though it was the way they layered across the skies and melted into one another that held Xage’s attention for more than a brief moment..

 

Darkness was soon upon him, rekindling his love affair with a memory from time ago, one of raging fires in the centre of lonely landscapes. Clans of kin danced and laughed and drank around the fire while Chief told stories of the night and the burdens it brought.. Xage often questions such stories now, but whose to say they are false, for they had a name, the creatures, the burdens. Yakatuzi. The bloodkin. Xage often questioned, why give a name, if there was not a physical entity that accompanied it.. He thought no more of the matter. Continuing to sit outside the bar, he was alone now. His mind focused though hazed and jaded. Tired and weary. An old man’s wise thoughts lined the skull of a twenty-something man. And that would undeniably, never change. How long did he have left before he entirely became a shell of his legend?

 

His eyes wandered across the horizon as though searching for something or someone to focus upon, though it merely left him disappointed and at a loss for any optimism whatsoever. He looked to the boar hide leather notebook that rested in front of him beneath his flat palm, though no words seemed worthy to be written just yet. Maybe later. Maybe soon. Maybe someone would cross the hill that bordered the horizon and make their way to the little bar. A small part of him wished they would, another did not. Though he did wait for the day someone of an intellectual level close to his own would focus their attention to him.. mostly all he got were the dismal passers by that barely spoke an audible sentence to him at all. Now darkness fell upon him.

Author's Note

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