If I may, I have a question for you concerning Akasha…? I remember you stating in one of the books that you were much too cold of temperament to have any gods (forgive me if I have severely misquoted you). What made Akasha different to you? What was it about her that gave you such a devotion to her.
In one, Akasha was different because she was tangible. Gods existed on the page, in grand oral tale, and on the walls of temples. Yet I had never seen a God in person, or understood them to be an integral part of my life in any way. They had never spoken to me. I had never found an instance of them manipulating the course of my life as they did in heroic stories. In their absence, I was a cynic. I discredited and thus discarded them as nothing more than pretty and creative words.
Yet from the moment that I became infused with my new immortality, Akasha had spoken to me. More than that, she was real. She had a voice, a presence, and a real form that I could look upon and touch.
Though I never thought her to be a Goddess. A goddess, yes, but never a true Goddess, though she was a preternatural creature much like any Goddess would be. I always understood Akasha to be a creature like myself, made of the same substance and nature. She was our mother, a powerful vessel of knowledge and blood that could, if placed in the wrong hands, lead to unfathomable destruction.
Did I worship her? I do believe that I did. I created an elaborate shrine and surrounded her in beauty. I left her offerings. I uttered silent and secret prayers and promises. In these ways, I suppose I treated her exactly as one would treat any God or Goddess. Yet I worshiped her in a realistic sense. I was devoted to her beauty. To her power. And to my own foolish illusion that inside of her was not a bitter and vengeful immortal, but a sweet woman who could bring something more beautiful and lustrous to the world.
Akasha had come to me, as a woman in need, and begged for my protection. My heart was that of a mortal man, through and through, as it remains to this day. So I was weak against this womanly wile, and I found myself a slave to the desire to protect her, and for the larger purpose of protecting all immortals. She needed me and I needed to be needed.
I still do not know how she found me. Of all the immortals in the world, how did she find me? What was it about me that appealed to her? Why call upon a new vampire, a Roman man, and ask him to come all the way down to Egypt to rescue her? Surely there were other immortals more powerful and fit to do this. How could I then not feel an instant devotion to the beautiful woman who whispered in my dreams that she needed me and that I must save her?