The General's Crusnik

**Author's notes**

Okay, so this MASSIVE thing started out as a whim of myself and my friend and usual writing partner in crime, Taz.  It's currently over 350K words and counting.  Be warned.

***

People were bustling up and down the streets of Rome, laden with packages and presents for the upcoming Holidays, chattering excitedly with each other as they went. Decorations were strewn everywhere they could, and bells rang out their melodies, trying to coax customers and patrons to donate time or money.

In all the hustle and bustle, a small café went almost unnoticed in the darkening evening where a simple priest sat with a pot of tea, watching everyone bustle with an almost melancholy air. Father Abel Nightroad watched with a wistful look as a man greeted his significant other with a kiss and a hug before they were lost in the mass of people on the streets. It had been quite a while since he had anyone to greet that way.

Shaking his head, he turned back to his pot of tea as he tried to get out of the mind set he was in, but it was hard to get into the holiday spirit with no one to spend his days with. Or even his nights. Despite a physical attraction to some of his co-workers, he didn’t want to open that particular can of worms, and he found himself yearning for a companion in his old age. One he could reminisce with and not be looked at with polite indifference. Such a person was a rarity anymore.

A thought crossed his mind, causing him to chuckle. Abel supposed he could look up one of his acquaintances among the True Vampires, but the one he once had a decent relationship with was currently living in Canada on the other side of the world, away from the Vatican’s influence and direct eye. Of course, for all Abel knew, the General had set up a fiefdom somewhere and was quietly living with his daughters and son. Perhaps he should look them up and send a letter to touch base with them again.

That got a shake of his head and a faint huff of irritation. He didn’t even know what name the General was currently using, but he only had himself to blame for that. He could have kept in touch with the General, but he had fallen out of the habit. It was too easy to let something like that slide, promising himself to write later only for centuries to slip past unnoticed. Maybe if he groveled very nicely, the General would forgive him, but to do that, he would have to find the General’s current name and address. He gave a brief thought about going to look up one of the local True Vampires to get a message back to the General before dismissing that. He couldn’t show up in his robes without getting the door slammed in his face, and he didn’t have any other clothes to wear.

“How depressing is that?” he murmured into his tea. “A priest with nothing to wear but his robes.” Well, it wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to wear, he just didn’t have anyone to dress up for. Unlike a few of the others in the clergy, Abel had not taken a vow of poverty. Instead, he had money stashed away in a couple of banks that had been growing interest for the past several centuries because at one time, he had planned for something beyond the Vatican. Now, he was finding it hard to get up in the mornings to deal with other people. He was starting to feel stretched thin and his foolish but kind priest mask felt brittle, as if it could shatter at the wrong time. Only, he didn’t know how to fix either one.

Draining his tea, he stood up and walked out of the café, leaving enough money on the table to cover his drink with a bit extra for a tip. Then with a sigh and straightening his shoulders, he started his long walk back to the Vatican.

***

Twilight had barely settled on Rome when Lucien strode out into the coming night as though he owned it.  He did, of course, but that was hardly relevant at the moment. Considering he had business to do. The throngs of people scurrying to do last minute shopping suddenly parted and allowed him to pass.  It was sad that Saturnalia had been reduced to this mockery.  No one remembered the old ways. What they cared to research and implement was a pale imitation of those bygone revels.  A testament to how time ravaged everything.

He turned down one of the narrow streets and again he had a clear path.  Interesting.  At least some could still sense power.  It could also be the fact he strode down the walkways like the General he had always been. That alone tended to terrify the sheep, almost as though they knew a wolf was in their midst. Or perhaps, he mused, it was the simple fact very few people had the proper attitude or the money to go around in a full length leather coat.  He smiled a little, focusing on the youngsters following along behind him.  The plan was to relieve him of said item and anything else of value he might have on his person.  At least his first night back in Roma would be amusing, he thought.  Let them follow.  He could use a good meal and he was fond of Italian food.

He kept a sense of them as his thoughts and feet turned toward his destination for the evening.  Even now he could hear the ringing of the chapel bells.  The Church was very much like a hydra, cut one head off and three more sprang forth in place of it.  He sighed and shook his head.  Absolute madness.  He had told his king that but had been sent to open relations with the Terrans at the Vatican.  He’d been told to use his discretion but not start a war with them.  At least not an open one, he thought darkly.  He would simply have to see how it all played out.  There was a certain rumor that the Pope and at least two Cardinals were the direct descent of the Borgias.  Now <i>that</i> could be entertaining for no other political family on Earth aside from the Caesars themselves had been more vicious and murderous.  Especially since it had been Lucrezia herself who had told him and she had the penchant to keep close track of her descendants.

He paused near a tiny outdoor café, getting a sense and smell of something, someone rather, very old.  Not as old as he himself was but it still carried the weight of nearly a millennia instead of only a few centuries.  Strange, the only others he knew of aside from the very few True Vampires who lived so long were the Crusniks.  Almost as if in response to his musings, the wind blew a single strand of silver hair in front of him.  He caught it instantly on reflex, smiling as it fluttered and waved in the breeze.

“02.  Now what could you be doing in Roma, my boy?” he wondered aloud.  02 had been here recently, he could tell just by the feel in that single strand of hair as it still carried his energy, strong and solid as though he’d just left the place a few moments before.  He sighed heavily, he really didn’t have time to go chasing the boy just now.  He’d have to inquire after him once his business with the Vatican was finished.