The Devil Went Down To Georgia

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"Now are the woods all black, 

But still the sky is blue."

- Marcel Proust


Ambrus held true to his promise and as soon as the light of the world extinguished, they were out in the crisp night air. Elek could barely contain his own excitement as they strolled along cobbled streets, their shoes clacking audibly in the silence of the hour. It didn't take long for their leisured stride to bring them to the theatre in question.

Magyar Theatre was certainly all the rage in Budapest, at the moment. Being founded only a few years ago, and being the first large Hungarian theatre in the city, it was no wonder. Elek had always wanted to go, (had been meaning to in his past human life) but he'd never had the fortitude to go alone. Now, immortal and accompanied, he finally had his excuse and confidence. Clutching closely to Ambrus's sleeve, they strolled past the door, into the actual theatre itself.

Elek's breathe caught and his hands dropped from their grip on his friend. The whole thing was more spectacular than he could've ever imagined. The seats were wrapped in royal red fabric, the box seats which carried on to the ceiling were laced with gold. Everything drew your eye's to the very top of the establishment, which held a grand chandler, sparkling and golden. Surrounding it was a magnificent painting, a joyous sky blue with flowers of red, orange, and pink. So real seeming, one only needed to reach up and touch their velvety petals.

Beside him, Ambrus watched with smugness. He knew that this theatre would relieve him of his woes, make him forget that wretched girl ever existed. He had no time or want for a dejected companion. What he really lusted after, was Elek's mind. Since her death it had dwindled, making Ambrus angry and irritated at the loss. What he loved most was the way the boy could take in something, so ordinary and mundane as a theatre (of which there are many, quite like the one they stand in now). With as much care and awe as one might view an icon of God. He wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if he'd actually bent down to pray.

He didn't, however, and simply stood immobilized in its glory. Ambrus lightly laced his fingers around Elek's wrist, tugging him like a child along towards the back of stage, where their true destination lay.

--

Being pulled along by Ambrus, Elek was shaken from his stupor, and began keeping pace. The backstage of the theatre was alight with people in varying costumes, fretting to and fro. It reminded Elek of when he was a child, bored, which led him to sticking a twig into the opening of an ant mound. He'd watched with fascination as they had all emerged, frantically trying to thwart their unknown attacker away, scattering hastily in hordes of tiny black specs.

The noise that Elek had learned to block out began blinding as he took in more of his surroundings. He realized that during his marveling of the theatre, there had been a crowd. He'd completely forgotten anybody was there besides himself, and Ambrus. He wondered if Ambrus had perhaps been right. Other than for a meal, Elek had little regard for the mortals around him. He'd just simply blocked them all out.

Shaken from his musing, Ambrus finally spoke.

"Ah, Victor!"

He said, approaching a tall and thin figure. The figure turned, revealing a very handsome man. His hair was light, shining from the lights around them. His eyes, a piercing blue, not unlike Ambrus's own. His skin was white, so white, that it looked translucent. And he looked to be no older than Elek himself. The man named Victor smiled, extending out his hand to meet Ambrus's outstretched one, shaking it hardily.

"Good to see you, my friend. And who might this be?"

He said, peering around Ambrus to get a good look at Elek (who was currently cowering behind Ambrus.) The man's accent was decidedly French, and now that Elek could appraise him, so was his appearance. Elek gulped, offering his own hand. They shook.

"Elek, sir. Friend of Ambrus. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Victor smiled, his eyes darting from Ambrus to Elek in a calculated fashion.

"Par Dieu! Where did you find this one Ambrus? So polite and elegant. Noble, perhaps? Ah, but isn't that ever your type."

Elek blinked, looking from Victor to Ambrus. He'd expected Ambrus to get mad at the suggestion, but instead he simply chuckled, batting the other man lightly on the shoulder.

"Elek is my new progeny. Fresh to this---life. Don't be too crass with him, he's a prude."

Ambrus jested, eye's sparkling, before strolling away. Elek shivered uncomfortably at his lack of presence and heard Victor give a click of his tongue.

"Horrible isn't it? As soon as they leave you're left with this aching feeling. Come, I'll show you the theatre."

He beckoned, clasping white, cold fingers around his arm. Leaving Elek no time to wonder at the meaning of his words. He carried him along with wooden floors, more people passing them by, without a thought to what or who they were.

"So, Victor is it? You're---one of us then?"

Elek tentatively asked, wondering at what the proper etiquette was for this sort of thing. Victor laughed, a deep hearty one.

"Vampír? Yes, I am. This entire theatre staff is mostly comprised of us."

Elek blanched, feeling like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. Of course. He couldn't feel a pulse or smell blood from any of the inhabitants of Magyar. Victor sensed his unease, and clasped a hand around his shoulders, stopping at a door.

"I've heard from Ambrus that you love the violin."

He said simply, pushing the door open to reveal the entrance to the part of the stage where the musicians played. Directly below the stage, in front of the large crowd. Victor released him then as they strode into the area, completely ignored by the mortals who were busy finding their seats or idly chatting to notice.

"How would you like to play tonight, with us?"

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