Writings Of A Child Of The Millennia

I am sitting listening to the waves crashing against the island. There is a storm coming in I can feel it in my bones, my senses are in overdrive. Maybe that is because I have only just fed, I cannot be sure. Every little dust particle is shining in the glint of the setting sun that is being taken over by dark venomous clouds. Now is a good time to write. Storms give me so many ideas.

I am going to tell my story, a part of it; I cannot tell all in one go.

I was born in 30 B.C to a Roman patrician, I was born in Gaul. When I was about nineteen years old I began to travel around the known world, at that time they still thought that the world was flat and that you would fall off the edge if you went into the sea. My travels took me all over what is now known as Europe, China, the Middle East and some of Africa. I wrote journals on this, but much to my dismay they were lost in a fire.

Some of these human memories come very slowly to me, but they are still there buried deep inside. I remember the day I was abducted very clearly, I was forty years old, fear pulsed though me, pounding deep into my stomach and brain, I remember being struck over the head with something very hard and then seeing the sky while I was being moved to the Grove.

My abductors only took me because they needed someone to take on the powers of their God. They worshiped a God, called the ‘God of the Grove’, the God was a vampire.

I was forced to change before the yearly feast of Samhain and I was entrusted by the said God to try and find out why vampires in other places, himself included, where being burned or destroyed when they have not been exposed to the sun. Using any means possible. The God was kept in a small chamber under a tree. They imprisoned me in this chamber when I was changed; I couldn’t face life in that chamber so I escaped.