A KINGDOM IN THE SANDS [open]

[Urhi Tudhaliyas]

He had always found fascination in the glinting of gold. It was a universal thing, he supposed--the allure of gold had resulted in humanity and even the immortal world killing each other for it for thousands of years--but for Urhi, who had lived for those thousands of years, had learned gold's trick, its value and its worth... It was still captivating. He liked the way it glinted in his ears, the way it gleamed at the base of his throat, and the way it shined against the red of his eyes, offsetting the rather alarming colour with deep hues and timeless beauty, while still blending and contrasting with the black of his hair, like the stripes of the Egyptian cobras he had been warned about in his human life, before he had embarked on that fateful journey from Hattusa to Pi-Ramesses, and then to Thebes, where the glory and splendour of Pharaoh's court had enraptured his much younger self despite the resentment he harboured towards their country.

Back then, the Egyptian palaces had shone brilliantly in the sun, and inside the people had glimmered as well, like deities in their white sheaths, their kalasiris and their shendyts. He had learned fairly quickly that the clothing of the Egyptians was designed mostly for comfort in the hot sun, as the Hattian clothes were, but theirs seemed indefinitely more elegant to him, more effortless, and more splendid in the way they shown with the gem-encrusted pectorals and fancy khat headdresses, white, as further protection from the sun. Prince Urhi-Teshub had arrived in Hittite splendour, of course, with their own fancy robes, those of the rich dyed splendid colours while the soldiers that accompanied them wore the layered Hittite armour. Urhi himself had been among that group, once a priest of the god Teshub, now a refugee in a fallen prince's train.

A laugh escaped Urhi's mouth as he crossed the floor of the room he occupied in the Saint Vampire's coven, spacious and airy. He kept the windows open always, selfishly enjoying the breeze that rustled the white gossamer curtains he had hung there, where they would sometimes blow into his room, like bound ghosts. The sight always brought a smile to his mouth, and though it was often tinged with melancholy, it was a smile nonetheless. Turning his head, he reached one of the small ebony boxes he kept by his bed--one of five, in fact, not counting the two large ebony boxes, beautifully engraved and carved. The paint on them had almost all faded, but Urhi, who had long since memorised their appearance, could still see the images of pharaohs racing forward on their chariots; of his own people, the Hittites, meeting them in equal combat. He had commissioned them specifically, through the power of the priestess, his Sire, whom he had only ever known as the Priestess. Once, she had told him that, if he must give her a name, called her the name of the goddess she served, but Urhi had always privately referred to her as Kemet, Egypt, for to him she was Egypt, in her own little way.

But in the end, he had left her, for though Egypt had filled his mind with her splendour, invaded his senses and changed him in more ways than one, it hadn't been his home. Perhaps it had been his persisting loyalty to Hattusa, or perhaps not, but he had left, and he hadn't returned. He had, however, been sure to take his belongings with him--his gold, which glimmered so prettily and matched the traditional braids he had refused to get rid of, keeping them while the rest of his head had been shaved in the Egyptian style before he had begun growing it back.

His fingers drummed absently on the top of one of the boxes before he carefully opened it, exhaling in pleasure as the glimmering image of Ra's protective eye returned his gaze, the little details filled in with smooth stones and other details that Urhi had been careful to preserve. With deft hands he lifted the heavily golden pectoral out, small compared to some of the ones Urhi had seen in his lifetime, but splendid in its simplicity. With movements that spoke of years of familiarity, he placed it around his neck before he closed the box and moved to his dresser, where he pulled out a simple silken shirt, white in colour, and pulled it over his head, loving the feel of the smooth fabric against the flawless skin he had gained after his transformation. In his ears were simple golden studs with a red stone in the middle, two on each earlobe, and with the two Hittite braids that he still possessed, the ends tipped with gold, the results were striking.

His task thus completed, Urhi swept out of his chambers, intent on enjoying the sunlight that streamed around Siobhan's Jamaican estate. He did not worry about his dark skin shining in the sun, knowing that no humans would see him, and if they did, he could pass for a god, should he wish it hard enough. His features, striking, pretty, especially for a man, only amplified by his vampirism, would see to that even if the faint glimmering of gold, his constant companion, did not.

[Siobhan Catherine Rice]

The sun rose through her bedroom, the great open bay windows letting in the sunlight and breeze to caress her face like a lover's touch. She stood, and searched her closet for a soft draping dress, based off ancient egyptian fashion, but covering her just as she needed it to. Then a light blue hand-knitted shawl was draped over her bare shoulders, allowing the gold and blue collar of her dress to glisten in the sunlight. Then, with a brief glance in the mirror at her looks, she leapt out the windows and into the morning air.

Here on her property, was safety for those who might be running from their past or just wishing to find a welcoming home. Her heart was open to those who came to her home, and it was not uncommon for her guests to break her heart by leaving her. However, she carried on, a constant reminder of the remaining kindness in the vampire world, her arms open to all who would accept her offer of peace and love.

As she slowed her racing across her property, she leapt one last time, landing in the shade of her favorite gazebo; the one that overlooked the tossing waves of the sea. There she stood comforted by the sounds of waves crashing down below her, and the sound of laughter behind her. She turned to see a couple of her coven member dash by; these two fairly young, but a mated pair and enjoying chasing each other in the peaceful calm her lands provided for them. But watching them caused an ache, a longing in her heart she didn't like to think of, and so she took off again, heading to her second favorite place.

Deep in the farther reaches of her estate was a run-down shack, the place her sire changed her and raised her out of. It held deep sentimental value since she knew not who that man had been or if he was even still alive. She felt as if she could feel his words of wisdom when she touched these walls, and now.. More than ever, she needed wisdom. She sighed and slid down the wall to rest on the dirt beside the shack's wall, staring up at the heavens above, wishing someone would give her answers to her plight, or send someone to distract her.

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[Urhi Tudhaliyas]

He noticed the two mated vampires almost instantly, one eyebrow raising as they dashed across the estates, blissfully happy. He supposed he could see where their happiness was stemming from--Siobhan's coven was a place of peace, and if these two had previously had it rough, coming here must seem like paradise--but it was a notion lost to him. Urhi was centuries old--three millennia, in fact, his birth place stemming from the rocky terrain of Hattusa--and long ago had been disillusioned to the notions of a mated pair. That notion had only been reinforced by his tendency to drift, never staying in one place for very long; never staying with one group of people for very long. Eventually, he left every coven he joined, just as he knew that, eventually, his time would come to leave Siobhan's place of peace, though it was here he had remained the longest so far.

Of course, back when he had travelled Europe with the Kolm's little band, it had also been the longest he'd remained with any coven. He had even becomes friends with the youngest member of the coven, the leader's younger sister, Asela, though her overprotective brother hadn't been too happy, and eventually tensions had risen so high that Urhi had said his brief goodbyes to Asela and left voluntarily, citing that it was time for him to be on his way anyway.

"Sand cannot stay in one place forever," Urhi had said upon leaving. "Eventually it gets blown away by a large gust of wind, and that's that." He had, of course, smirked at the brother while he said that, but had proceeded to smile disarmingly before wrapping his scarf around his lower face and proceeding in the opposite direction from them. He had wandered alone for many years after that, occasionally travelling with another group or mated pair for a day or two before taking his leave, letting himself be blown around by his own whims and idle passing thoughts much like the sands of Egypt had been blown by the wind. Perhaps it was odd, for someone who had once been Egypt's greatest enemy, but the Hittites had always made it their business to incorporate aspects of other cultures into their own, so the customs and terrains of the Egyptians had been known to Urhi long before he had made the fateful decision to accompany the fleeing prince into Ramesses' kingdom.

Reaching up, Urhi curled his finger into one of the two braids, humming a low tune under his breath as the warm sun hit his skin. He was aware that it made him shine, as it did for the others, but Siobhan's estates were far enough away that he need not worry about that. There would be no Volturi visits in the dead of night, no cloaked figures coming to kill them for a perceived infraction of the rules. Urhi himself predated the Volturi, after all, and he found little use for their rules and regulations, though he always made sure to follow them, purely because they had been the common sense regulations he had always followed anyway. There was no need to kick up a fuss where it was unneeded.

His eyes latched on to another figure as the person ran across the property, and it didn't take him long to recognise Siobhan, if only because of the blanket of red hair that trailed behind her wherever she went. For many, that rapidly fleeing figure was a marble statue of peace and freedom; a saint who would given them shelter when they needed it, purely because she could, and she wanted to do good, he supposed. It was why she had become known as the "Saint Vampire", he supposed, though the nickname was so ridiculous that he himself never spoke it, until he was teasing her, as he was wont to do with many people.

With a graceful roll of his shoulders, he decided to follow her, his footsteps silent on the ground, though his movements were accompanied by the low clinking of the golden bangles he wore on his left hand. When he came upon her sitting by the odd old shack she insisted on keeping on the property, he raised an eyebrow.

"You know, I never understood why you kept this here," he murmured, reaching forward to brush his hand against the old wood, which would begin to rot shortly, as wood was wont to do. "It is a little out of place, considering the pristine white condition of your home." He took a step back, turning his eyes back to her. "You look distressed. This isn't because of the Volturi's silly ball, is it? Aro's fancies will always be what they will, but they're just that: fancies." His mouth curved into a small smile. "It's just another way to remind everyone that he's the Big Bad Vamp." He moved carefully, to stand beside her, leaning against the shack's walls. Once, his movements would have been accompanied by the long robes of a priest, but such garments had long since rotted away, like the bodies of the others who had worn them. "Unless that's not it. Tell me, what troubles our resident Saint Vampire, hmm?"

[Siobhan Catherine Rice]

As it always seemed to go, she was always found shortly after everything quieted down around her. Siobhan peered up and smiled as she watched and heard Urhi approach, her gaze softening even more as he approached the old shack and questioned why she still kept it. "Urhi, my sire raised me out of this shack and I spent the first forty years of my new life operating out of it. It holds sentimental value to me." she stated with a soft sigh.

Then he spoke of what might be troubling her and she shook her head tiredly as she covered her face with her hands. She wasn't sure how to explain what was causing the conflict within her mind, but of anyone on her lands, Urhi could be trusted to keep what ever she said between them.

"Urhi, after Jane's visit and the letter.. A thought ran through my mind, one I have been mulling over for quite some time now." She paused and took in an unnecessary breath. "I don't want to live in fear of the Volturi anymore. I'm tired of being shoved around just because I don't stand for violence. I'm tired of taking in broken and frightened souls because of them."

She frowned deeply and gazed away, her arms wrapping about her legs. She shivered a little and sighed again, curling in on herself. "However, Urhi I cannot see what to do to further what I want. I could never ask a soul to lay down their life to stand beside me... Its best I should just put this away in the back of my mind again." she states with a rather defeated sigh as she begins to twirl her hair between her fingers.

[Urhi Tudhaliyas]

Her words made him look up, though it wasn't enough to make him retract his earlier opinion of the shack. Sentimental value or not, it was an ugly thing, one that Urhi thought did more harm to the coven's physical image than not. Still, it wasn't his place to go around saying that, so he kept silent, at least for a few moments. The place where he had been turned had been lost to the sands of time, quite literally, and though he could return to the ruins in Egypt, wincing at what the once-shining stone had become, it had never held much value to him, sentimental or not, and thus the urge was not present. Of course, he had also lived longer than Siobhan, by over two-thousand years at the very least, so perhaps it was his age that was speaking, at least a little. One learned to become less attached to people and things over the years, though Urhi still selfishly maintained his love for the gossamer middle eastern fabrics and the soft linen of the Egyptians.

So he left the topic of the shack behind, content to merely lean against it, a backrest being the only value the wooden building had for him.

His eyes flickered to her face, and his brow furrowed slightly as he watched her bury her face in her hands. It was obvious to him that there was something on her mind--Is it any wonder, he thought wryly, with pressure from the Volturi beating down?--but he had never been particularly well-versed in handling the emotions of others. It was yet another side effect of travelling alone, he supposed, for though he had travelled in covens with women in them before, very rarely had he stuck around long enough to be taken into their little circle of friends. It had happened once, he supposed, with Asela Kolm and her band, and perhaps another time with a lone nomad he had found on the road, with her glossy brown hair and fragile smile--gods knew he didn't remember her name anymore, though, just the smile, and how he had tried to bring it out whenever possible until he had left her too--but rarely, almost never, within larger covens. There were other vampires, he figured, whom she could trust more; others who intended to stay around. Those others weren't him, and he knew it. Sooner or later he would get the itch to move, as he always did, and he would bit farewell to the beautiful estates and its inhabitants. He was already starting to wander more, and had fancied a trip to Europe next, but...

But the aftermath of the Volturi invitation still sat unpleasantly in his stomach. His gift may have been nearly useless, merely a physical shield that could protect him if he used it right (and he did use it right; he could practically use it as a weapon at this point, after all) but with fast enough movements and enough foresight it could buy them time if the Volturi ever got irritated enough to send another guard down, this one with orders to kill instead of warn. So he would stay, at least for now, until they didn't have need of him anymore, he supposed.

Her next words surprised him, though, and it took him a moment to properly formulate a reply.

"That is what the outside vampire world knows you for, though," he said simply. Urhi was never one for mincing his words. He wasn't Nikolai Belanov, who kept his stare even and unwavering as he spoke, his pretty face not disguising, at least to Urhi the sheer coldness of his demeanour. Perhaps many wouldn't notice it, but to Urhi, who had outlived Belanov by three thousand years, it wasn't hard to realise that the man was using a mask to prevent others from looking farther in. There was a slow, cold-burning rage in Nikolai Belanov, and though Urhi could respect the way the man handled any social situation, with social grace beyond most other vampires, he would not trust him not to withhold certain key information if he thought it would make the situation end badly for it. Belanov's sense of self-preservation was, after all, much higher than Urhi's.

But then again, Belanov lived for something, or at least for the memory of that something, and Urhi? Urhi did not. He lived for nothing but his whims, and he was all right with that.

"I do not understand what you intend to do, then, if you give up what this coven stands for. There would be many vampires with nowhere to go, and while that suits me fine, many rely on you for help and other things they cannot find elsewhere." He shrugged before glancing back in the direction of the white mansion the coven resided in.

"I can't really give you an answer, Siobhan," he said after a moment. "I don't know what you want. I always thought you wanted this coven, and now you don't." He rose to his feet, the two thin braids on his otherwise short hair blowing lightly in the wind, along with the golden earrings in his ear. "You know this coven would stand beside you, Siobhan. Most of them would easily lay down their lives for you. I really don't know what you're asking when you wish for a soul as you do." He inclined his head. "You already have those of almost your entire coven, after all."