Categories > Books > Cirque du Freak > Coming To Vampire Mountain

Coming To Vampire Mountain

by Bex 1 review

Where some of the favourite vampires from the series met each other.

Category: Cirque du Freak - Rating: G - Genres: Humor, Romance - Characters: Other - Warnings: [!] - Published: 2007-05-06 - Updated: 2007-05-06 - 1277 words

AN: Hi, new fic. Making up for deleting the others, if anyone's going to read it. please r&r if you read. It's not great, but it'll get better I promise.

Kurda Smahlt's mapping skills weren't helping him one bit as he tried to navigate around the labyrinth of tunnels and caves that made Vampire Mountain. He'd arrived the previous night with his mentor Rumen and had made a huge mistake by attempting to find his way around on his own.

His head down, he scurried blindly through identical tunnels in front of identical cells-- until suddenly he was knocked off balance slightly by someone running into him.

The man he'd run into was at least seven or eight full inches taller than poor Kurda himself. He brushed himself down and glared down at Kurda with some distain.

'Watch where you're going,' he warned-- now that Kurda had looked up at him he was probably in his vampiric thirties, dressed entirely in black and looking incredibly threatening.

'S-Sorry,' stuttered Kurda, feeling his face get hot.

The man didn't bother to introduce himself or ask the smaller man's name, he simply strode off in the direction he had come from without another word, tutting lightly and shaking his head.

Kurda was cringing. He didn't seem to be making much of an impression with the vampires, and it was only his first night there.

He stopped outside the Hall of Kheldon Lurt. Should he or shouldn't he? He didn't know whether he could bear to try to find a seat among rows and rows of close friends again. His rumbling stomach disagreed, though, so he went inside, making sure to avoid most people in the Hall.

He was encouraged at the sight of a group of vampires that didn't look that much older than Kurda himself-- immediately him and his bowl of steaming bat broth were wandering over to them.

The group looked up at him with no hint of emotion. 'May I join you?' he asked, throat dry. He hadn't felt like this since trying to get that silly Norwegian girl to go out with him as a human.

A few of them nodded, and the others seemed indifferent. This was Kurda's best reaction yet so he sat down beside the youngest-looking, a man with dark hair who was looking as left out as Kurda was.

'I'm Gavner,' said the man, offering his hand to the blonde man.

'Kurda,' he replied, smiling because this was a brilliant step up in the vampiric social ladder for Kurda.

'You new?' Gavner asked.

'Very. Got here yesterday,' Kurda explained. It felt good to be finally talking to someone.
'I got here last week,' said Gavner. 'But luckily I already had a few friends here.' He motioned to the crowd around him of vampires chattering to each other happily.

'Can you introduce me?' Kurda asked. Gavner took pity on him, and did so.

'Everyone,' he summoned their attention with ease. 'This is Kurda Smahlt.'

The worst dressed girl Kurda-from a very upper middle class English background-had ever seen-was the first to wave, with long black hair like a sheet of silk, and without a smile. Her eyes were a piercing blue so light they were almost empty, dead looking, and Kurda found difficulty just looking into them. She would have been beautiful, he thought, if only he could have seen past the dress.

'Where are you from?' asked the tall man with the brightest red hair Kurda had ever seen, arms folded on the table in front of him.

'London,' Kurda swallowed to get rid of the sandpaper like feeling in his throat, to make his voice come out clearer, but didn't succeed.

Gavner said something like 'me too,' but before Kurda could enquire carried on. 'Kurda, this is Larten Crepsley-'

The man he had just been talking to interrupted. 'Vur Horston, Gavner. You are not to introduce me as Larten Crepsley any more.'

Gavner rolled his eyes. 'Well, I'm sure you may call him Larten now that that's how I've introduced you. He's from London, too.'

'But the poorer side,' Larten said. Was it that obvious, Kurda wondered, where he was from?

Gavner continued regardless. 'This is Arra Sails,' he nodded to the girl in the plain, torn black dress with the matching gloves Kurda had seen earlier. A proper street girl, it seemed. Kurda had never conversed with one before. 'She's from Russia,' he added as if this was an amazing fact.

'I'm working on losing the accent,' she added, and it seemed she did have a slight softness to her voice that did reveal the fact that she was foreign.

Next, Gavner turned to the eldest man on the table. 'This is Vanez Blane,' he said. 'Who's from somewhere he doesn't want to tell us about,' and they grinned as if it was a good joke between them. Vanez was a muscular man, with more usual red hair and more shabby clothing, but the type that was suited for training and running.

Gavner turned to the brightly smiling man at the end of the table with brown hair that frizzed and poofed a little outwards. 'This is Vancha,' he said. Vancha yawned and rested his feet on the table until Vanez hit him with an empty bowl. 'From Berlin. In Germany.'

'I know where Berlin is,' Kurda laughed. 'I'm a cartographer.'

He turned to the cheeriest looking person on the table-a girl in her late twenties to very early thirties vampirically, perhaps, who was smiling brightly back at Kurda. She was chubby, a little, but pretty and her cheeks were flushed and pink with blonde corkscrew curls to contrast. Instantly, Kurda was fond of her.

'This is Britannia,' Gavner continued. 'No guessing where she's from. Tania for short. Depending on if she'll let you.'

'Of course I will, Gavner,' she said, smiling. 'He's cute.'

Gavner rolled his eyes once again at the comment, but Kurda blushed a little. She was dressed properly in a powder blue dress, and he was grateful for her brightening the conversation and the mood.

'And this,' Gavner finished. 'Is Corvan. From France.'

Corvan was young, as young as Larten probably, but the most muscular out of all the assembled vampires. He was an extremely attractive man, with black hair falling down to frame his face and in front of his eyes until he brushed it back, and if Kurda hadn't been so frightened of him at first glance, he might have found time to be jealous.

'Hello,' as far as Kurda could tell, Corvan spoke perfect English. Kurda had questions to ask immediately. 'So....a lot of you are English,' he started.

'Well done, Einstein,' Corvan laughed. Arra, who had moved round the table to sit beside him, pushed him hard. Kurda wondered how the almost skinny street girl who didn't look like she could fend off a bumble bee had the nerve.

'Don't be mean to him,' she said. 'You were nice to me, my first night here. Be fair,'

'You were pretty,' Corvan said, before she raised an eyebrow at him and he grinned, closing his mouth.

From another area of the table, Kurda could have sworn he saw Larten watching the two as if he was looking after something that was his, as Britannia was talking to him about something else entirely. Suddenly, Kurda understood. Even if Britannia would have been his first choice, they were so different that he could see why someone would like one or the other. He hoped he wouldn't be around once the squabbling over the two started. This friendship group wasn't so perfect, it seemed.
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