Antiquities and Memories

Stalking out into the night was a double edged sword this night. Much like the piece he just had verified. One of his independant contractors that bought and sold antiquities for his company had just shown him a sword that reminded him too much of the past. The man was based out of New York and thought nothing of stopping by Nachton to get his expert opinion on the age and origin of the blade.

Stalking quickly to the nearest sewer entrance to the House of Pain he wondered why he had purchased it for himself. By the time he had claimed his booth from the slight waiter the answer was still out of his reach. After removing the long black leather coat and the sword it had concealed, Cyrus placed the former across the back of the booth and the later on the table. The waiter's eyes bulged at the long sword placed so casually for all to see. Noting the young man's trouble with the blade he had to chuckle and reassure him with a lie. "No worries, its just a replica, no edge."

Still the young man gulped and scurried away after taking his order. Sitting back in the booth with his booted feet on the bench the mongol contemplated the twists and turns life makes.

The blade was almost a thousand years old, Russian made. One almost exactly like this had run him through in the mongol invasion of Kiev in 1240. Temutai had slain the lucky Rus who had stabbed him in the back before pulling him to the safety of a nearby camp. After removing the blade from his back, his maker had returned to battle, fighting like a demon and bringing back a few humans to replace the blood Cyrus had lost on the field. The next night the two of them had laid waste together to innumerable men fighting for their homeland. The blade had been used to skewer the head of its wielder outside the city.

It had been such a violent time. The two vampires travelled with the Horde, battling in the dark of night for their Khan since it was all they knew. The decades of battle wore them both down. Since they both shared agility and hunger it was easy for them to overcome impossible odds. The Golden Horde flourished, laying waste to Moscow two years prior to their battle in Kiev. Batu Khan had welcomed the two even if they did travel inside a wagon during the day and only fight at knight. Shaman had deemed them mighty warriors in tune with the light of the moon and stars but weakened by the sun. Welcomed and accepted they had one familiar to care for them, Temutai's Cheren worshiped the older vampire.

Thinking of Rus, Cheren and battles simply reminded him of the path his life had taken. Only a few short years after that battle Cheren died and Temutai met the sun soon after. Discovering he could not go on without his love beside him. Cyrus hoped he never felt that feeling.