So you think you can know me? You are sadly mistaken, mortal fools. How could your feeble mind grasp three thousand three hundred eleven years and counting? It is past improbable, it is impossible. I suppose I can take a few minutes from my busy schedule and humor you with a few details. Do not expect that the little I tell you describes all that I am, for that you will never know.
I was born sometime around 1300 BCE, or so historians have named it. I grew up in Greece, within the Mycenaean culture. My father was king and he ruled his land valiantly. I was his second son, so the succession of the throne would be mine only in the event of my brotherís death. From the moment I could understand my place in line, I began planning that very event. Your westernized mind will probably view this as cold-hearted and unkind. A modern mortal could never understand the uselessness of a second born heir to the throne. I would not rule a foreign land and I refused to become an official or an advisor, such things were pointless to me.
My plan foiled when I was only sixteen years of age, and my father fell dead in the night. My power hungry brother most likely found a way to poison him, or my fatherís heart gave out from the pounds of animal flesh he consumed week after week. Regardless, he was gone and Arius was now king. One of his first acts on the throne was to distance me as quickly as possible. He sent me with the exports to Troy to scout the land and hopefully lead a campaign to eventually destroy the city. I know what you may be thinking, but my story has nothing to do with Homer or the Illiad. Fairy tales and folk legends are below my taste. I set my eyes on something else across the sea, a new kingdom. I planned to take Troy and the Hittite empire as my own and return to overthrow Arius. An empire was much more appealing than a lousy kingdom. My brother would cower when he saw my power, the world I knew would mine and bow before me.
Sadly, things didnít go as smoothly as I would have hoped. My campaign and I managed to conquer many villages throughout our nearly twenty years in force but we met a match that only a god could have won, or so I thought. I am not sure where we were, but we had made a camp around twilight and began to start a fire as the full moon rose into the sky. All at once there were growls surrounding us and three large, frightening beasts began to attack my men. My spear managed to stick into the throat of the one that nearly ended my life, when it took its last breath it turned into a man on top of me. I have never once been so frightened in my life, than that night.
The fresh scent of blood attracted a new predator to our camp. My fate was now set. The man that kicked the werewolf off me spoke in a strange tongue I did not recognize. He picked me up with little effort and held me by my chin. I had little blood left and less energy. When he stared into my eyes I felt the relieving calm of death, and was sure that my mortal life would end here. He spoke to his friends and laughed at me. I used the remaining energy I had to spit at him. The last thing I remember was the amusement in his eyes and the burning of his teeth cutting into my flesh.
As you know, my death was only the next step in my story. Ionut admired my will as a mortal and was able to easily tell I was of noble blood. He wanted me for his coven and if his leaders would have me, I was to become one of them. Ionut was a member of the Romanian coven, which at the time was the most powerful vampire coven in the world. I had heard of the bloodthirsty men that matched the power of gods, but I considered it traveler folk lore. Those of noble blood always bestowed their power upon their people with tales of being one with the gods. The Romanians could easily do this with shimmering skin and burgundy eyes, no mortal would question their power. I lavished in the idea of being looked upon with such admiration.
I was accepted into the coven as a subordinate. My position was low and I hated it. How dare they cast someone of noble blood to the bottom of their ranks! I deserved better, but I was ignorant of their ways. In order to make myself strong, I began to study everything about them. No one left the Romanian coven and lived to tell the tale. Their men were loyal and active at all times. Stefan and Vladmir were able to keep them busy with constant battles against the Egyptians. After a little over two centuries with them, I was able to plan the perfect escape. I acted when I was sent to gather meals for the fighting guards. I slipped away without being noticed, my trail would not be easily tracked. There was no reason for them to think I would ever betray them, I had never shown anything but utter loyalty and gratitude for my position.
Several years after I left them I met my Athenodora and we became nomadic companions. We traveled into Western Europe together and I made her my wife. Several years after our travels, we crossed paths with Aro, Marcus, and their coven. When Aro explained his coven of gifted vampires to me I was instantly intrigued. His thirst for power and domination were admirable, though his achievement of such things had been long drawn out into the future. I knew then that I wanted to join forces with them, but not as a guard I would settle for nothing less than an equal. My age was a great benefit to my argument, along with the time I had spent within the Romanian ranks. Aro knew quickly that my hate for the Romanians and my passion for power matched his own. With a touch of my hand he welcomed Athenodora and I. Finally, my quest for power bore fruit.
It took several centuries but my dream of power finally was achieved. After acquiring more power, we set the Romanian empire ablaze with flames and took control of the vampire world. Aro acquired a prize, Sulpicia, for his mate. I wasnít exactly keen on the idea, but I am not one to argue with his many strange fetishes for living trophies. It was also easier for me to convince him that our wives must be protected at all costs. I watched how the loss of Didyme destroyed Marcus and I was not about to have the same happen to me.
For the next 1500 years we ruled relentlessly, making our mark across the globe. I made sure that one of our first tasks was to rid the land of my greatest fear, the lycanthrope. I had encountered them again on my nomadic travels and almost lost my immortality. I refused to see their existence ruin my future. It had taken far too long to achieve my prize of power. There is few, if any left on this earth and I intend to keep it that way.
Besides the werewolf hunting, I participated in wiping out the immortal children and the wars in Southern North America. My military trained mind was of great use and that skill was only strengthened when we acquired more military minds such as Demetri and Felix. The power that the Volturi holds is unmatched and glorious, the whole world fears us and that is the way it should be.
I am very content with my place in the world. The only things I wish to change are the thorn that seems to stab many of the Volturi and that is the Cullens. The simple fact that they would stand up to us and take ranks with their werewolf resembling neighbors is enough to rid them of the earth in my mind. Aro seems to have a different plan for them however, and I am never quite sure as to what Marcusí say on the whole thing is. I wish them all to be gone; their powers mean nothing to me. Carlisle is not my friend and never will be. I do not have friends; I have brothers and those I rule. The Cullens threaten my power and I do not like it, at all.
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