The Reading of a Diary

The Father had returned from a journey and seemed eager as he met Ysabel late at night in the church.

"Ysabel, I have news to share with you. My journey was partly on your behalf, you see, I've heard of a diary, and I found it."

He brings out a very old book, it is not very big, and from the looks of it, it seems to be written in Latin.

"It is the diary of the holy man Paolo Guilani. You probably haven't heard of him, he didn't go to the history books, however the church archives says he was indeed holy in his time, so much so that they appointed two holy knights to guard him during his retirement. This diary is dedicated to the creatures of the night he met during his retirement. I believe that perhaps this could help us find some answers for you. It is written in Latin, I thought, perhaps you'd let me read it to you?"

She knew that the holy Father was not usually up at this late hour and that him being so was for her sake. She could not see him as often as before, so she treasured the time spent all the more. It was her anchor to herself and the person she wished to remain, despite the changes. 

As such, she is eager, attention focused on the Father, hanging on his every word. She had combed her hair and tied it into a neat braid and brushed the dirt off her clothes. Most nights, she did not bother with that. Her hands are folded in her lap, eyes keen and bright despite the distorted face.

"I have not heard of him, no. But it would be a pleasure to. How long ago did he live?" She eyes the book, noticing that is is indeed written in latin. She really should get around to learning Latin. "Yes, please. I would love to hear you read it, if you can spare the time."

The book is very old, despite this, his answer may surprise her. "He lived just over a millenia ago in fact. He might have insight which has otherwise been been forgotten."

He opens the book and starts reading, first reading a passage in latin, then translating it for you.

16th of March in the 809th year of the Lord.

Ever since I moved to Aachen I've had two holy guards stationed with me at all times. Despite my retirement, the church seems to want to keep me safe. I have often wondered what drew me to this place, and if God had more plans for me. Tonight I may have gotten a sign.

My time in Aachen has taken a turn, tonight I encountered a creature of the night; a vampire. While it would be cause to kill him, the fact that he was healing people at the hospital made me pause. We shall keep an eye on him, from a distance, to understand if this fiend is planning something I need to stop, and how something stemming from darkness can find the power to heal those in need. Is this a trickery of the Devil? Or is it something else entirely? I have decided to write down what I find out, and how the story unfolds, to share my experiences with those who come after me. As such I begin this new diary, dedicated to my dealings with these damned souls, however short it may become.

"This is all I've read myself before showing it to you, I thought, with your pure soul, perhaps there are gifts to be found in this affliction? I wanted to continue my reading with you, whatever we find, we find together."

She listens intently, hanging onm every word. Her eyes widen at the the year the book was written. That was before the Camarilla, before the inquisition, in a time of which little was known - although now she knew there were probably Kindred old enough to have lived then. Not that she had met any.

"How did you come across this book? Did the person who possessed it understand that it is a true story?" There days, humans did not believe in vampires. A thousand years ago, perhaps they knew. Perhasps many things true had been convenietly forgotten, because Kindred preferred it that way.

She ponders the word of the book. "I cannot wait to find out what he learned in his studies. I hope this vampire he came across was able to tell him something about itself. Please, let us continue whenever you have the time.

She bows her head at the statement that she is pure. "No one is pure, but I do my best. It is harder some times than other. I worry about how I will find the will to  keep fighting to be good when all the people I know have died from old age. Sometimes I feel sure that my appearance is a gift from God given to always remind me that there is a darkness in me that must never get a hold of my heart."

The Father nods. "It may very well be. To me it sounds as if this man knew about creatures of the night, perhaps his connection to God was strong enough to see the truth. I found it in a church archive, it was among unsorted books, most likely they haven't had the time to look through it, and didn't deem a diary important enough for me not to borrow it."

"Let us see how it continues."

20th of September in the 809th year of the Lord.

The vampire has noticed us watching him, and I believe he has been watching us too. Tonight we met, and he wisely kept his distance. His name is Wernher Schwartz, and he calls himself a crusader, apparently he is serving a code granted to him by the archangel Michael. He has lost touch with the others and tells us there are none other of his kind here in Aachen. Also he has found a way to feed without harming anyone, however that is possible. We have decided not to engage in any hostilities, however, our watch will continue, and I am sure, so is his.

He seems wary of me, it is as if my presence unnerves him. Yet he is respectful, which is admirable, but I am wary as well, perhaps it is a devil's trickery. After all, why would an angel, an archangel no less, speak to him?

The Father pauses, letting you reflect before he turns the page.

Her gaze becomes distant, as she focuses on the words the Father reads, searching her mind for any clue of what might be read between the lines. Perhaps, from the perspective of Kindred, with their knowledge, there is some truth the writer of ther diary did not himself grasp?

"It is no surprise that the vampire had lost touch with others of his kind. He would likely not be welcomed. It sounds as if he must have possessed a great power. Others would envy him. Yet it could not have come without a price. A price most vampires probably would not be prepared to pay. I wonder what it was? And who was this Michael? Not a demon, I think, but perhaps not an archangel either. Perhaps something else entirely, something I have not heard of before." She frowns, clasping her hands, lowering her gaze. "There are many things in this world, that we know not of, that keep their secrets for their own reasons. Gods ways become ever more mysterious, the more one learns of these secrets."

The father nods. "He does work in mysterious ways, even the damned might be a part of the greater good he is building. As you say, he is most likely not an archangel, either this Michael is a trickster, pretending to be an angel, or he has been perceived as such by the unknowing."

He turns the page, to the next part of the diary.

12th of December in the 813th year of the Lord.

Not much has happened regarding our resident vampire Sir Schwartz, in fact, he seems to be exactly what he says he is; a healer. We have never seen him feed, rather we have seen him aid those in need. Tonight though, he visited my home. He warned me of a plague going through the city, and asked if the church could help limit the spread while he hunted it down. I will grant his request and use what influence I have left, it is after all an honourable task. Strangely, I believe this city has been healthier than many others, perhaps due to this man? Is he in fact a cursed one who follows the command of an Angel? I've doubted it, but my doubt is thinning.

I managed to find out more about his bloodline, apparently they are called the Salubri, and is waging a war in the east, against other vampires called the Baali. These are apparently working with demons, which begs the question, does these creatures fight a battle of good and evil in the dark? Or perhaps this war is a scheme to bring destruction to them and their surroundings? I do not know, but God does. Herr Schwarts seems to believe, like his clan, that there is a salvation to be found for their kind, a forgiveness. He also showed me the tell tale sign of his bloodline, a third eye, a disturbing sight I must confess. Even so, one should never judge those of disfigurement, they can be as good as anyone else, and those of them who find god can be the most humblest of servants.

Preaching aside, Herr Schwartz does not give me the impression of being humble.

"Do you know of these Salubri? Are they still around?" The priest asks, however Ysabel haven't heard of any of them being around, perhaps she knows the Tremere hates them and calls them diablerists, and that they are most likely extinct.