Requiem Act I- A Cursed Bloodline
My dearest Diary, my only friend... I have to talk about you about a lot of things.
Do you remember the day we met?
Oh, pardon... I mean... the night.
You know everything, don't you?
It all started with a full moon...my curse...my endless suffering...my life.
I was born at midnight, on November 17th.
A date feared by many.
No child had ever been born then.
Except me.
The third daughter.
The only one with a mark upon her belly.
The only one born with magic in a world full of people who thought magic was part of the devil itself.
They called that night cursed.
And perhaps… they were right.
I was the only one in the whole village.
An error, a cursed baby.
Pale skin.
White hair.
And pure and blue eyes.
Voices said that I didn't even cry when I came out, like I was already aware of what was around me.
I was born alone, and even now, I'm alone.
The silence of this castle is almost sacred.
The walls breathe like they carry memories too old to name.
And the windows… the gothic windows…they let the moon in like a ghost.
Touching the marble with fingers of frost.
I walk barefoot.
The stone knows me.
I'm colder than it.
My gown drags behind, whispering secrets I no longer want to hear.
My hair brushes my shoulders like shadows still clinging to my skin.
This is my prison.
My throne.
And I...
I am the queen of... what? Vampires?
Nothing like that.
They say that I'm the reincarnation of the Devil itself...
But... if I'm a Devil... Why did life make feel human emotions...?
Like... Love...?
Why do I remember every single instant where I felt these emotions...? Why...?
I don't know, to be honest.
I just keep walking into this castle... given me by... no one.
Every step echoed everywhere...
Every corridor brings a story...
...A Painful one...
...But...
...As I pass the music hall, I stop.
My eyes fall upon the harpsichord.
Its strings are mute.
Lifeless.
Just like the fingers that once danced on them.
"Mark." My mind whispered to my heart, and a painful grip tightened around it...
A bitter smile curls on my lips.
I step inside the hall, slowly approaching one of Mark's old instruments.
I press one key.
Only one.
A deep, broken note.
A B.
The beginning note of your song.
I remember everything.
"You probably loved music more than you loved me," I whisper. "But your music was your way of loving me."
I sit.
My hands hover, then fall—softly, tenderly—onto the keys.
A fragile melody escapes.
Not perfect.
Not tuned.
But pain… pain has no pitch.
Each sound is a wound.
Each pause, a name I never spoke aloud.
I remember how I met him.
I was 20.
And I was already a vampire.
The ritual was performed on me, but I always pretended to be a normal person.
It was a cold twilight, near a border village.
He was sitting under a tree with a sketchbook in hand, mumbling some strange phrases.
I still remember his beautiful face.
His poor clothes, his black and messy hair...
And, most of all, his beautiful green eyes, shining with the stars.
When I saw him for the first time, I felt attracted to him for no reason at all.
During that time, I used to take night walks to grab some fruits from the trees and enjoy the night stars.
I was alone, because everybody knew about me.
The cursed girl.
I also took advantage of my name to stay away from people.
But something very unexpected happened.
I thought he'd run, like all the others.
But he didn't.
He looked at me.
He really looked...
...But there was no fear...
...Nothing...
I couldn't feel any kind of bad feelings from his heart.
And said: "You're not from here, are you?" with a very friendly smile on his face.
I said nothing.
Still, he smiled.
"May I draw you?" he asked. "I've never seen such a… sad face. It's beautiful."
I stood there, stunned, not knowing how to react.
No fear in his voice.
No hatred in his eyes, just excitement.
He saw me.
Not what I was.
But who I was.
"Mark. My name is Mark." He said, while drawing on his sketchbook.
"Mmmh-" I mumbled, not knowing how to react.
It was the first time that someone interacted in such a friendly way with me.
With my magic, I saw a pure white color inside his body.
He was pure.
"Uhm... Okay, understood. You'll tell me your name when you're ready." He said.
I kept staring at him... with my heart beating fast.
And after that, in some minutes, he made a beatiful sketched protrait of me.
WIth a lot of excitement, and a beautiful warm smile, he showed it to me.
"What do you think...?" He asked, with the purest voice possible.
When I saw his sketch, I remember the feeling of a small tear falling from my left eye.
It was beautiful.
Moreover, I could see his soul coming out from that draw.
"H-Hey! Is this so bad?!" He said, trying to calm me.
I shook my head to say a No.
"No... it's... beautiful..." I managed to say, grabbing his drawing.
I contemplated the sketch for some minutes, in silence.
After that, I finally spoke...
"Maria... M-My name is Maria." I said to him, with tears in my eyes
And that's how I met Mark.
After that day, we always met each other at night , at the same time.
He was a musician, a painter, a man with too much heart for this world.
He always listened to my silence.
And accepted it.
He even accepted my true self.
I told him every single detail of my story...
The fact that I was being kept alive for the only reason that people were scared of a divine punishment.
"You are not a monster," he always said. "If you were, you wouldn't carry such sorrow."
He also always laughed—and when he did, he always healed me.
I loved him in silence.
As vampires do.
Without time.
Without measure.
Without hope.
Then they found out.
The villagers.
The priests.
The soldiers.
They screamed.
They hunted.
They spilled blood.
I tried to stop them without showing my true form and killing everyone.
Mark gave me emphaty for humanity.
I started to feel human again with him.
He even accepted my vampire nature, but always refused to be immortal.
But people... they destroyed them, for a mere , stupid belief.
I remember that time when Mark...
...took my hands, kissed them, and said:"Don't worry. I'll be safe. I'll make them understand."
These were his words.
His last words.
And he died.
But I…I lived.
And I still do.
And I always curse the day where I trusted him.
Every single day, I keep living with this burden.
The requiem I play is not for him.
It's for what's left behind.
What refuses to fade.
But the circle of life... has probably arrived to bless ... or curse me again.
I met another strange boy.
Alexyus... That's his name.
He resembles Mark way too much, with the only difference that he's a rutheless killer... Like that Azrael.
The only man who was capable of hurting me.
The only man born to kill me.
Destiny has probably given me a second chance... maybe...
I leave the music hall.
Climb the spiral staircase where he always stumbled.
He used to laugh, brushing the dust off his clothes.
"Vampires build strange homes," he'd say. "They're not meant for clumsy humans."
I reach the forbidden room.
No servant dares open it.
There, under a black veil, lies the pendant.
A red crystal.
The amulet.
Alexyus.
I hold it in my hand.
"You resemble him so much," I whisper. "But you're not him.Just a shadow. A shell. A reincarnation."
Still… it's enough.
I close my eyes and remember that final night.
The snow.
The fire.
His fingers in my hair.
No promises.
Just the moment.
Just that kiss—where eternity was trapped in a heartbeat.
"Why have I lived so long?" I ask the darkness."Why can't I forget?"
There is no answer.
Only silence.
I lay down on the velvet couch.
The ceiling above seems to shimmer.
And there he is.
Mark.Etched into memory.
"If this is hell," I whisper, "Then let it drown me deeper.Just let me stay with you... even if it's only a lie."
A tear falls.
Slow.
Unreal.
But real.
The gentle soul of Mark... mixed with the rutheless coldness of Azrael.
"Alexyus... Mark... Destiny... Let's... play..." I whispered to the nothing.
The requiem I play is not for Mark.
It is not for Alexyus.
It is for me.
For the girl I was.
For the queen I became.
For the woman I will never be again.
The silence returns.
And this time...it is perfect.
-Maria