I'm Damaged, As I'm Sure You Know- Part 2

For the next two hundred years, she lived in Spain, reading, studying, and learning from her sire. She became his star pupil, his brightest, quickest, and most devious student. She learned the history and the ideas of who and what she was now, a Lasombra vampire. She learned her blood powers and abilities, being taught by the various bloodlines in the group. Through the powers of Vicissitude, her physical form was changed. Through agonizing pain, her skin and bone structure were reworked and gone was the ugly duckling she had known in her mortal life, replaced by the elegant, beautiful immortal swan.

During her years of training and studying, on the west side of Europe, the social structure for the dark ones was changing. The split had happened, separating the good from the bad, the Camarilla and the Sabbat. The battle lines were drawn, and her small pack was called forth to go to the front of the fight. Sabra used her wits to know when the fight and when to pull back, and when she fought, it was with all she had. She watched as her beloved sire fell in battle, her friends perish in the fighting, and she found that when she wasn't in the thick of battle, she was offering encouragement and guidance. She offered a sort of spiritual counseling for those who seemed to need it, and she passed on her learning to the younger ones around her. Her work was rewarded when he was chosen to fill the position her sire had left open in his death, and she was named Priestess of her pack. More years passed and more fighting took place. No longer was she in the groups of young warriors leading the fight, she was now the one who helped guide them, to inspire them and give them the courage to go to the battle. She performed their ritae and offered the advice that was needed. She counseled the leader of the pack and became his friend and confidant.

She held her position for many years and her reputation began to spread through the ranks of the Sabbat. It was because of this reputation and infamy that she was chosen by him. He came to her one night in the late 1700's, seeking the spiritual counsel she was known for, and he began to seek her out night after night. His name was Kian Majir, a young Ravnos who had joined up with her pack and in the months that followed that first meeting, he lived up to his bloodline by stealing her heart. He offered her the love that for centuries she had craved, that she had missed even since her mortal years. For thirty-five years they were together, never apart for more than a night here and a night there. They spent countless hours engaged in conversation, and occasionally, seemingly joking, he would ask her to tell him something confidential. Sabra would laugh and never gave it much thought, but also never gave him any information because that would betray the trust placed in her.  [ Continue ]

written by Lisa Roberts