Canticles of the Prophet Zachariah:

First Arrivals

Notes by Anthony

“I stood in the cornfield, sniveling. I tried not to cry. Asa was right, I shouldn’t waste blood. I heard footsteps behind me, but I didn’t turn around. After a moment, Ben stepped in front of me. It was hard to read his expression as my vision had been red and blurry since Irad nearly exsanguinated me. I blubbered something about being a failure and an animal and a monster and I was so, so sorry he had to see me like that. Ben placed his hands on my shoulders. I hadn’t realized I was trembling until his gentle grip steadied me. “Listen to me, Zachary. I need you. I need you. You can’t fall apart like this. I know we have to be monsters sometimes. Then we have to come back from being monsters. We didn’t ask for it. We just have to do it. For as long as we can.” I nodded. I leaned towards Ben and he embraced me. I let my head rest against his shoulder as a wave of exhaustion came over me. For the first time in days, I felt myself start to relax.

“Asa walked out a few minutes later and apologized. I knew Asa didn’t mean to taunt me with the blood and provoke a Frenzy. I told him it was okay.  I was sorry, too. He started to reply and then trailed off. Ben stiffened in my arms. Vousette joined us from her earthen dugout where she’d tended the Sisterhood fire. They had all just sensed two others approaching, though the new arrivals could not get any closer with the Smoke obscuring our presence. Vousette confirmed one of them was a Sister, and she and Asa helped guide them through the Smoke. The Sister I recognized as Olivia. 

“The other was Helena, the Salubri. She was Black, and looked to be in her forties or fifties, though her soft brown eyes seemed much, much older. Aside from the oddity of the bandana that covered her forehead just under her hoodie, she looked utterly ordinary. Like she could disappear into a crowd at any moment. I’m sure that instinct had saved her life more than once.

“Roused from her studies by the clamor, Gwen joined us in the cornfield. She demanded proof that Helena was who she said she was. Asa moved to intervene, but Helena untied her bandana, revealing that strange, not-quite-biological third eye. She said: “thank you for your hospitality in such times as these.” Satisfied, Gwen turned to Olivia and demanded to know how many Sisters would be arriving. 

“Olivia and Vousette were not sure. There had been more than twenty-five Sisters once, but many had not been heard from in several years, with more missing as the Black Spiral Dancers gained ground. Ten to fifteen would join us, perhaps. Gwen was displeased that so many would be assembled near the Temple but acquiesced so long as they didn’t snoop inside. It felt hypocritical that Roses’ “family” had to stay outside while the Malkavians, Giovanni ghouls, and Helena had the run of the place. I could see her point, though. Rose had only met the Sisters a few times, and most would be leaving after the Gather. Even if all were as trustworthy and devoted to the clan as they claimed, any information they had could be compromised if they were captured.

“Asa and Helena talked in the cornfield, though I didn’t stay to listen in. Not that it would have mattered anyway, as they had spoken in a combination of telepathy and Uruk, the language he had learned in his dreams with Saulot. I suspect it was to stop eavesdroppers. It’s easy to forget Gwen has a veritable army of ghosts only she can see and speak to. Asa told me later they spoke of “the End of the Wheel” and “the Great Darkness” which seemed to be part of the Salubri prophecies for Gehenna. I went through my notes and saw that Damien had also mentioned “the world had to be reset and born anew in perfect harmony on The Turn Of The Wheel.” They spoke of Golconda. Helena had achieved it and offered to help Asa, though I had a feeling Golconda wasn’t something that she could lay signposts out for. 

“Rose returned shortly thereafter. She gave Ben the maps with the nodes she had found and then joined the Sisters to tend the fire and catch up. An Elder Sister, Ora Wildtree, joined them sometime before dawn. Later, Rose told us Jinx’s scent had led her to a boat on Bull Run next to a dam. Rose climbed in and began rowing to search for her, only to find Jinx slipping out of Obfuscation next to her. Jinx explained that she needed to go explore, “to find some things that Vito couldn’t teach me. Things didn’t go too well for Vito.” Rose hasn’t shared much about Vito. He’d been a Ventrue in Georgetown who acted as the leader of their coterie. Jinx had lived with him for a few years. Apparently, he’d tried to parlay with the Sabbat after refusing a ticket through the Wall and into Alexandria. Rose suspected it was because he had Diablerized one of the Sabbat like she had and feared repercussions once the Camarilla saw the stain on his soul. It sounded like he had chosen the fire over the frying pan.

“Jinx shared that she was having visions of Rose tearing her apart, and of tearing Rose apart in turn. “All are real,” Jinx said, “simultaneous and intertwined. Time is an illusion. I’ve seen it for years and years.” Rose told Jinx how Henry been consumed by Bottleneck and how their body was stretched across a Church wall as a gift to Rose. Jinx didn’t seem too terribly broken up by the revelation. Rose could smell Ruth’s blood on Jinx’s breath. 

“I could tell this upset Rose. Rose had been hopeful she could save Jinx. I knew she was still fond of her. Rose’s voice had grown warm and her eyes softened as she stared back into her memories. The love was still there. Rose missed her. Missed holding her, kissing her, supporting her. Rose blamed herself that Jinx had gone down this dark path, that she had followed the Lady of the Lake. But whatever was in Jinx’s eyes or voice as she spoke convinced Rose that she was too far gone. Still, Rose asked her to leave the Sabbat and join us. Doesn’t hurt to try, right, listeners? Jinx scoffed: “I learned so much from Montbatton, but now I’m learning on my own. The Sabbat are children.” Then her expression grew cold and bitter: “you’re with the two Fledglings. If you knew what I know of the Prophet, you would run away screaming.” The two of them parted ways, unable to reconcile, but perhaps hopeful this would not be the last time they could speak to one another.”

“All this I learned in the following days. Ben and I went back inside the Temple shortly after Helena and Olivia arrived. I was exhausted. My brain was playing tricks on me. No one else reacted to the screams or horrible crunching noises echoing throughout the Temple. Shadows twisted and grabbed for my hands and feet. Joan walked by with her dress soaked in blood. Comet played his Gameboy with his head nearly hanging off his shoulders, neck skewered by Sascha’s bone saw. I was seeing things. I needed to rest. I needed a break. 

“Somehow, without discussion, the bedroom at the end of the hallway on the first floor had become our room. We’d pushed the sarcophagus to the side and laid out a bunch of blankets and pillows in one corner. Joan, Cedric, and Comet had taken the rooms along the hallway. It felt nice, listeners. Like they were protecting me. Like I wasn’t alone. I retreated inside like hiding under the covers could block out the nightmares. 

“Joan stepped into the doorway and asked if I needed anything. I knew one bad dream would send me into a frenzy again, so I asked for another blood bag. She and Cedric returned a few minutes later with ceremonial goblet filled to the brim. Part of me wanted to ask where she’d found it, but the moment felt too somber as she lifted the goblet reverently above her head. I tried to accept it with as much gravitas and grace as I could. The cool blood flowed between my lips as they inclined their heads in a small bow. They seemed satisfied with my performance. 

“I think I have to be okay with being worshipped, listeners. I know, I know. I will always be your humble late-night radio DJ. But wouldn’t it be more wrong to ask them to believe in me, while denying them the rituals that express and reaffirm that belief? The least I can do is act as though I am worthy of all the faith and trust they place in me. 

“The effect was somewhat ruined by Ben asking Joan if she would “rustle up some blood bags” for him. The “yes, fledgling” Joan uttered was heavy with disapproval. She sounded as old as every one of her thousand years. I giggled as Ben’s face grew red and he muttered “never mind. Sorry.” Joan and Cedric left, and Ben and I nestled into the pile of covers. He pulled out our headphones, and we listened to Pearl Jam’s Vitalogy. We’d played this album extensively in the first week of its release, which was also the last week of my human life. I knew the music. I knew what I was supposed to hear. Which noises were real and which were not. 

“Dawn rose and we fell asleep like that, our shoulders and knees touching under the blankets, heads rested against each other, listening to Eddie Vedder tell us to let the ocean swell dissolve our past, to let the sunshine burn away our masks.”