"I have only loved once"

-2-

The wind slowly entering the room made the curtains wave in a melancholic rhythm, dancing with the shadows. The moon was full, shining brightly in the night sky with all the surrounding stars. The sun was supposed to rise in a few hours, and even though it was dark outside, the birds were chirping loudly, and people started to walk out on the street.

Feeling his heart ache, Olrox woke up screaming, immediately sitting on his bed and curling in, bringing his knees up to his chest and hiding his face in his hands. For the third day in a row, he had been waking up from a constant nightmare that played on repeat in his thoughts, even when he only closed his eyes. The image of his dear lover's body lying under the tree with this horrible bruised wound on his neck, dead, was haunting him like never before. And even though over thirty years have passed since that night, he still cannot get over his lover's death. Olrox dreamed of the Mohican man's uncontrollable laugh, his sweet lips kissing him goodnight, and the soft touch he gave the Aztec vampire with his warm hands. Olrox missed his lover's hair, as black as his own, with braids ending up with beads made from rose petals, which he gifted Olrox right before the horror happened. He missed Mohican's bloody eyes staring at him playfully every time they were together. He missed his lover's bubbly personality, optimistic view of life, and dreams of traveling and exploring the world while being deeply connected with his roots, the land, and the forest.

Olrox felt tears forming in his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to forget, or at least hide, all the memories from his past, he failed. Each time, the pain got worse and worse, driving him crazy from a lack of proper sleep and concentration. He was tired of having nightmares. If only he knew why all of this was happening.

"Is everything alright..?" A deep, tired male voice got the vampire's attention. He looked at the knight from behind his black hair, feeling more tears on his cheeks.

"For sure, Mizrak." He replied softly, trying his best for his crying to go unnoticed.

"Can't you, please, stop thinking about him? It's the past, Olrox. He's dead. I want to sleep for the whole night, not be awakened by you screaming or sobbing under the blanket." The short-haired man said and turned around, now facing the vampire. Mizrak knew he was crying over the dead vampire all the time while being alone, but he never expected Olrox to cry in front of someone.

"Believe me or not, I am truly trying my best to forget him." He wiped the tears off his face, got up from the bed, and walked toward the open window. Moonlight wrapped his body, highlighting his posture and defining his muscles. "And I forgot to take my earrings out, for hell's sake." A whisper escaped his mouth. Taking the silver earrings off his pointy ears, he noticed movement in the corner of his eye. Mizrak came closer to his nighttime activity partner, resting his hands on his shoulders.

Olrox didn't move. His thoughts drifted somewhere far away from the place they stayed, returning to Massachusetts, to his lover's arms, and the past. All over again, and again, and again...

--

More and more people stopped at the town's center. The streets were barely visible under hundreds of humans and vampires staying in two straight lines in front of the facades of the buildings, clearing the path for someone important.

"Why was the Belmont boy so afraid of you?" Mizrak asked briefly, staring at the vampire's reflection in the window's glass, interrupting himself from watching peasants on the streets and also interrupting Olrox from reading.

"I lived a long time as a human and a vampire, but I've only really loved once." He said, his eyes glued to the pages of the book he had in his hands. Olrox brought back the painful memories again, this time without showing any feelings. He felt like crying at night was something incredibly embarrassing and unnatural for a man and a vampire at the same time. "He was from a little town in Massachusetts, if you've ever heard of that." His gaze wandered from the book to Mizrak, and almost immediately after catching eye contact, his eyes returned to the book. "Which, in those days, was a colony.

The Aztec vampire went silent for a moment, trying his best not to burst into tears again. He didn't know what made him so sensitive to these memories, Olrox had never experienced such rough feelings—all the grief and anger.

"But he wasn't a colonist." He paused again. "He was proud to be Mohican, with roots deep in the land and forest. He burned with such passion." The memory of them meeting for the first time shot through his mind like a bullet, making him vibrant as never before. Olrox heard his lover's voice; he was joking about how he had never seen a man with such skin tone and overall beauty before; how he called Olrox "exotic" and laughed it off, winking at the Aztec man. Kwahu was not the best at flirting, but he was for sure charming and lovely, and that's what Olrox fell for. "About the world, about how the people, "the people," that's how he talked, could win this thing called freedom. Even people like him."

Mizrak, meanwhile, watched the vampire closely. His facial expression didn't change at all, remaining serious. But there was something in his gaze that the knight noticed. How the green eyes were frozen, giving the vibe of Olrox's life flashing in front of them.

"People whose land had been stolen, I mean. Like mine was, oh, so long ago." Another memory, now from the times before he met his soulmate. Memories of his homeland, his family, and friends. The people were praying to the Aztec gods, encouraging others to join them in their prayers. The sun was setting behind the horizon, its rays escaping from between the trees in the forest nearby. For a brief moment, he felt like the little boy who was consuming books one by one, curious about the world, and living happily.

"But he fought with them, the revolutionaries. He fought with them and almost made me believe in it too." Olrox looked up at the man standing by the window. "Then Julia Belmont killed him."

"Because he was a vampire." Mizrak interrupted the vampire's monologue, feeling anger rush in his veins as he realized what Olrox had done. "And you did that to him. Did you even ask permission?" He felt like almost shouting. The knight could not understand Olrox's actions. As the words left his lips, he saw the vampire getting up from the chair as fast as he could and rushing toward him. Mizrak didn't even flinch, even though somewhere deep in his consciousness he was a little afraid of losing his life from the vampire's hands.

"-I was in love with him." The vampire stopped inches from Mizrak's face, trapping him with eye contact. "I wanted him to be with me forever." His voice was as calm as when he talked about his soulmate's past moments earlier. Olrox brought back memories of Kwahu agreeing to be turned into a vampire because he also wanted to stay together forever. He saw his lover's brown eyes turn bloody red and felt the Mohican man's teeth sink into his wrist, thirsty for blood. The next thing he remembered was wiping his own blood off Kwahu's lips and kissing him passionately.

"And is that what you have planned for me?" Mizrak's questions brought the vampire back from his world. Olrox stepped back, getting a clearer view of the knight's posture.

"Of course not, Mizrak. I'm not in love with you." He grinned, meanwhile being confused about his feelings toward the man who was standing right in front of him. Olrox scanned his muscular body, hidden under a coat and armor, then his bearded face and short black hair shaved on the sides of his head. And he felt nothing except physical attachment to him.

--

As they both stood in the dark, almost empty room, a dark, foggy figure with red, glowy eyes disappeared from behind the window, collecting its thoughts.

"Olrox is alive..."