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A/N Once again, thank you Snow White for beta-reading my story.

Oh, how foolish I was back then…After two centuries, it’s easy to condemn all the idiotic things I have done. They say that history repeats itself, but what can you do when you are damned to live the impervious age for eternity? How do you react, when everything changes around you, while you remain unchanged? After two very long centuries, I have realized, that time doesn’t matter. Time is an illusion invented by man…or, should I say mortals. For Kindred, however, time isn’t the same. But this will be discussed later.

Do you see Hermione? A good writer always keeps the readers in his hold, although, I indeed, do prefer to have a physical hold…if you know what I mean.

It didn’t take long for me to realize, the bitter difference between books and real life. There were times when I was starving, freezing without any shelter. Luckily, I encountered a travelling group of actors and performers, who were kind enough to take me with them. They were on their way to Paris, as I heard their destination, my heart jumped. At that time, Paris was almost as magical as it is today, even more, perhaps. So you can imagine how thrilled I was when they told me where their destination would be.

During that trip, I was able to learn a lot from different arts, poetry and music. As odd as it sounds, actors really are very versatile. They possess many different skills, and try to use as many of them as possible during shows. I was very gifted with instruments, and they encouraged me to learn more, little did I know that, those skills would later save my life, and later curse me my demise…

Yes Hermione, I’m somewhat talented with music instruments. I used to play the violin very fluently and I even played the piano. But don’t be expecting anything from me. I only play when I’m in the mood, when my feelings…convert into music. But my mood died a long time ago. Nowadays I rarely even think about music not to mention playing an instrument. Later you’ll learn why.

Bah, enough with this! Let’s continue…

As we finally came to Paris, I had to say goodbye to them. With heavy hearts we parted ways. Our journey had been a joyful one and I owe them greatly for giving me this experience. Nevertheless, there I was in the big city. Although it wasn’t as crowded as it is today, at that time it was huge. But at that time the city wasn’t a happy place to live in. No, people were suffering from unemployment and hunger. Taxation was heavy and grossly inequitable. The state was near bankruptcy because of wars and international debts. The king, Louis the XVI, was a weak king; He tried to solve the problems of a dying country, however he never really had the chance to do it: a great change was about to happen.

But all of this didn’t really matter to me. The only thing in my mind was where to live? And moreover, how to feed myself?

Since I didn’t possess any money, the only option for me was to steal food and sleep on the streets. It wasn’t a very comfortable way of living, but I had no other choice. I was a run away; I had no money, no apartment and most importantly no work experience. I had no hope.

But one day, fate gave me a chance. While I was wandering the streets I happened to meet an old man, a rich man. He was having a rough day: one of his servants had dropped some of the bags and boxes he was carrying. The man was now beating the poor servant with his black cane.

”You maggot! Pick them up! Pick them - no, wait just leave them - LEAVE THEM! Your services are no longer required. You’re fired”, the man said.
“But sir -”
“ENOUGH!” the man yelled and raised his cane. The servant fled immediately. Then he happened to notice me. First I though he was going to beat me, just for being there, but instead…
“Hey! You! Would you like to earn a few sols? Help me with these bags and boxes and I’ll pay you well”, he said. I looked at his cane and quickly picked them up.
“Good man. Now bring them to the carriages”, he said.
“Y-yes sir!” I said and hurried towards the carriages as he walked behind me leaning heavily on his cane. He did look rather old but I think the main reason for his walking problems was the large belly he had to carry all day with him. To be honest, he was very fat.

When we reached the carriages he asked me if I wanted to work for him as a servant. I quickly agreed since I didn’t know if there would be this kind of chance for me ever again. He told his name was Patrick, Patrick Giscard d'Estaing to be exact. Now I had shelter and food, although I had to work for it for the first time in my life. The payment wasn’t much but at that time it was a miracle to even acquire a job. You could say that because of him I was saved from certain death of starvation.

But now, as I think again, that kind of fate perhaps would have been a lot less painful for me. You see, it was because of him I met the one person who has caused me all the loneliness, pain and sorrow I’ve had to carry with me for over two centuries. Because of him I met…Lillian.

As we headed to my new master’s home, I was quickly introduced to the rest of the family. Roxanne, the wife of monsieur Giscar, and their daughter Lillian. When I first laid my eyes on her, she stole my heart forever. She was my first and only love that I had in my life and afterlife.

Don’t get me wrong Hermione. Even though you are a very special person to me… you are not her. I have probably said this before already but you do look a bit like her – no, a lot like her. Only your eyes are different; she had greenish blue eyes. Nevertheless your great resemblance to her only makes things worse for me. Sometimes it’s hard to remind myself that she truly is gone when you sit next to me as I feel at this very moment.

I stop writing for a moment and tell you to stop peeking at my writings and remind you that writing takes time.

Keep in your mind that this is my problem, not yours, to carry. Perhaps the burden will ease up a bit after I write this down. But mark my words: I am NEVER going to do this again, ever. It’s already hard for me to even think about the things that happened… leave alone writing them down.

It was that day when I saw her in her full bloom of beauty and grace. She was like a delicate rose among the lilies. Her hair was flowing wild like a gentle morning breeze. Her body was so tender and small, ever so fragile and her voice…

I’m sorry Hermione; I have to take a break.

I remember her white dress, slightly creamy, with pearls and white ribbons. I remember she always tried to impress everyone around her even though she didn’t really need to. She had a beautiful face, caring and perfect. Everything about her was perfect. Except that she was a bit short, which she absolutely couldn’t stand. I always teased her about it. That was a bit after we get to know better each other of course. She had quite the temper really!

So there I was, a young servant boy enchanted by a noble girl. Sounds like something from a romance novel. Luckily I was smart enough to hide my feelings from her father. He would have beaten the hell out of me if he had caught me there fancying his daughter, his precious jewel.

Over the next few months I learned how to work for my meal. As I wrote before I had never really done any physical labour before so you can imagine how hard it was for me at first. But I was determined not to give up so easily and always tried to do my very best. Well, occasionally I did slack off but every servant did it. I was always nice to Lillian and she began to like me as well. She hated always being trapped inside the house like a pet animal. Her father was too overprotective in her opinion. But I secretly agreed with her father since the condition of Paris and all of France was getting worse by the day. The people were dissatisfied with the monarchy and the king. Rich people and nobles were hated and envied very much for their wealth and appearance. Things were getting dangerous in Paris…

Lillian soon discovered that I had run away from my father but I never really told her where exactly I came from. I guess I was a bit ashamed of what I had done and I led her to believe that I was from a lover class family. But if she actually believed that I can’t say. I remember she always asked me to tell her about life outside of Paris and she listened to every word I said about my little adventure.

She soon discovered though that I could read and write well among other things. She was amazed how widely knowledgeable I was in history and poetry and asked me to teach her. In order to do that we had to negotiate with her father but to my great surprise monsieur Giscard agreed almost instantly. Perhaps all fathers are weak against their daughters’ pleas.

Lillian played the piano pretty well already but she still took lessons from a teacher. After the lessons when her teacher had gone, she always asked me to come and sit next to her and play the piano with her. I was a quick learner and very soon our little duet became very pleasant indeed. Sometimes my hands did get a bit lost on her body but she really didn’t mind, instead she kissed me and moved a bit closer to me. In the end… well you can very well imagine what happens between a girl and a boy who are in love. We spent one passionate night together and woke up in each others’ arms. I will never forget that night… Fortunately her father never caught us. I knew I was playing with my life but I was still young and arrogant. At that point I thought I could do anything and nothing would ever separate me from my love. How wrong I was back then.

Those few months were my happiest time alive. But soon a message came that shattered my world.

My father was dying.


A/N: Reviews are more than welcome!

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