Wraithblade6 — Roleplayer Guild

Mithias listened breathlessly, intent on every word. His face mirrored the deep concern of a toddler, trying to understand why its mother was upset. He was innocent and blank, absorbing all he saw and heard without the faintest assumption marring his interpretation. For the first time in his life, and it was possibly the first time ever for anyone, he had made contact with the true person, the 'human' side, of the being known as Gabriel. For  moment, he could see someone, someone who had seen the unbelievable, someone he had so longed to know, and beyond all reason, all pacts with God, and all levels of impossibility, he was going to get the chance to do so. 

The younger vampire was speechless as his sire walked away, returning to his usual cheer. After a few whole seconds, he gasped as he remembered to breathe. Naive elation ran through him as he ran a hand through his hair. He smiled slightly as he shook his head, getting himself together. Mithias felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He was greatful, joyous, but he was also, tempered with pragmatism. 

As he walked back to his motorcycle, he tried to fathom what the hell he had just accomplished. The story of the burned native American girl return to his mind, and he remembered how he could feel the anguish emminating from Gabriel's memory. Mithias mounted his bike thinking about the responsibility he had just agreed to take on, that he must never allow himself to cause his father that pain again. He had to stay alive now. He had a promise to keep, a heart to protect other than his own. He absolutely had to be responsible with it. It was now his number one priority. 

But what had been the alternative? Should he have accepted the ancient's choice to never know each other and walk away? In the heat of the moment, he hadn't even considered that as an option. He could have elected to protect Gabriel by letting him leave, to be alone, free, and to go on as some sort of eternal child who would never grow up. Now, the immortal spirit was tethered, like a wild unicorn that was never meant to be broken by man. Mithias had stolen the heart of a god. It was a miraculous feat to be sure, yet a small part of him felt guilty about it. He had to make sure his promise was worth the price. It was really the only option other than an eternity of pointlessness for them both.

With the violin packed, Mithias threw on his helmet and reactivated his cell. Perhaps Magnus had left him some amusing death threats in his vmail. Instead, a text flew up on the right inside of his visor. "... London?" The reference to the raven and the letter B were enough of a giveaway. So, perhaps this pale, white-haired Brit really was an old friend of his fathers. Either way, this event seemed intended. Being in a good mood, Mithias saw no reason to question and texted back in the affirmative. Golden eyes to the road, he looked forward to a nice long ride back to Tennessee.
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Interrogator Chaplain

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