I am
alive. Yet I do not live.
The seeming insanity of that statement has made me
wonder at my own mindset over the years since my creation. My birth to darkness was one of fire and
blood and the death of everything I had ever known. And while those responsible are long dead, destroyed
by mine own hand, I cannot help but still harbor resentment at them for what
they had done. It seems as though not
even their death, the normal recompense of a life for a life, is enough to
repay that which has been done to me.
But I digress.
I am not here to dwell on past horrors, no matter how much they still
haunt me. No, I have come to you tonight
with a tale. It is a tale of death and
of life, of the end and the beginning, where creation stands defiant in the
face of the end of all things. And,
quite possibly, it is a tale of my own morality, or what yet remains of it.
_________________________________
There are things that remind me of the man I once
was. When I spy a nobleman offering his
gloved hand to his wife, escorting her from their coach, I cannot help but
smile at such gentility and know that chivalry is not yet dead. When I watch two lovers embrace, lost in
their own little world of passion and desire, my mind wanders back to the woman
that warmed my own bed, in those days when I yet numbered among the
living. When a father reassures his
young son that the noise he heard outside his window was not a monster (or perhaps it was, but he need not know I
was there), my mind wonders back to my own father, and the comfort that
knowing he was there offered to my young mind.
But there have been no such reminders for me so
powerful as the pale flesh and scarlet hair of the woman who would become my
second childe, my second progeny, born to darkness as I was. I remember the first time my dark eyes fell
upon her, and how everything seemed to stand still. There was no hunger then, for I had been out
seeking blood, seeking to sustain my monstrous existence. It altogether faded as I looked upon her,
like her very image was a balm to the horrific bloodlust that dwelled within
me. There had been no bustling docks on
the port of Gull Harbor, where ships of trade and merchants come to dock and
hock their wares. It was as though
everything came to a stand-still, and there were only the two of us…the dark
creature of the night and the fair maiden, timid and unsure, come from a far-away
land to a world she had only read about in books.
Gull Harbor was only one port of entry of many
throughout the eastern coast of Gothis, the kingdom of my ancestors. I would only learn much later that she had
traveled from Seelia, a land across the sea, a land of senators and slaves, of
diplomats and dignitaries, where those with wealth were catered to hand and
foot by those without. How odd it must
have seemed to arrive in a feudal land, where barons and nobles still paid
homage to their regional king, and he to the king of the country?
I could sense her confusion immediately. She wore a soft crimson shawl atop a white,
flowing gown, the hem of her dress marred by the filthy ship and the murky
sea. Her scarlet hair was in a loose bun
at the back of her head, the loose tendrils framing her pale face and indicative
of her distress. I watched as she
timidly disembarked the wooden vessel, her well-manicured nails dirty and
stained and her cheeks flushed with embarrassment at her disheveled
appearance. Much as she had been mortified
at how she looked, I could not take my eyes off of her. I knew then that she and I were linked,
somehow, though I had not yet realized the depth of that bondage, or of my own
intentions.
Of course, a part of me knew that my adoration for
her was likely because of her shared features with my mortal wife, the pale
flesh and scarlet locks of my long lost Delaley, and the sight of those
remarkably distinguishing features had been a shock, I will admit. But while there were similarities, and while
my dark heart ached for something, anything, to rekindle the love of my past,
there was something else about this woman that I could not ignore.
I went to her, leaping from my rooftop vantage point
to the alleyway below, my preternatural form absorbing the impact of the fall. I emerged from the shadowed walkway a
nobleman, my dark frock coat smoothed to my dark shirt, the silver cufflinks at
each wrist gleaming like stars in the darkness.
My long, dark hair was loose over my shoulders, framing my own pale features.
And my most distinguishing feature, my lavender eyes, were both clear and calm,
thanks to the blood of the sleeping vagrant in the alleyway. I had been sure to spill not a drop, not
wanting my crimson addiction to frighten away this remarkable woman.
“You seem lost…” I said, moving to stand before her
on the docks. She was seated on a wooden
chest with her belongings within, and when I approached, she stood quickly, her
cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her haggard appearance. I smiled, and bowed slightly, which seemed to
put her at ease. “I am Euliclese. Where are you from?”
“Adoria…” she replied, then added, “I mean,
Seelia. My name is Adoria. And yes, I am lost, I’m afraid. This land is so very different than what I am
accustomed to. Might you know of a place
I might rent for the evening, some place to rest and refresh myself?”
“I do…” I replied, offering her my hand. She stared at it for a long moment, then
smiled, and slid her hand in my own.
“But my things!” she started, and I squeezed her hand
gently, smiling to calm her.
“I will make sure they are taken care of…” I
reassured her, and turned, my lavender eyes catching the gaze of a passing dock
worker. I reached into my pocket and
pulled a handful of gold coins, holding them out for him to see. As he drew near, I pressed them into his
palm. “Take this chest and the lady’s
things to The Ivory Mare. More coin will
await you there.”
The man stared at the coins, then lifted his gaze to
my own, and nodded eagerly. I turned
back to Adoria, and she eyed the man warily.
“Your items will be safe, I assure you…” I said,
squeezing her hand again. “Come. Let me escort you to your accommodations.”
She seemed to calm then, and nodded, walking with
me. As we walked, I could sense her
surprise at the scale of the buildings in the city, at how high the cathedrals
loomed and how small she seemed in comparison.
“There are no buildings so high in all of Seelia…”
she murmured. “Only the gods rise so
high.”
I laughed at her words, and she looked at me, her
brows narrowing, as though she had taken offense to my words. I smiled, disarming her anger before it
could grow any further.
“In this land, the gods are but myth and legend, my
dear…” I said, doing my best to explain to her how man had progressed into
reasoning and study and had put aside their humble origins of
superstition. “Here, they venerate one
god, an almighty figure, who is said to have created all the world.”
“One god?” she asked, her gaze rising to the soaring steeple
of the cathedral. She staggered a bit
then, clinging to my arm to keep her balance, before she lowered her gaze back
to the street, and exhaled the breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. “I think I need some wine.”
I chuckled again, and turned, leading her down
another side street. Ahead, a painted
wooden plaque proclaimed the establishment The
Ivory Mare, and I led her there, opening the door for her to enter once we
arrived. The inn was quiet, with only a
few patrons milling about, eating a late meal or enjoying one last glass of
wine before retiring for the evening. We
moved toward a pair of high-backed leather chairs near the hearth, and I waited
for her to sit before seating myself.
Within a moment, a young serving girl came to us, carrying a silver tray
with two silver goblets and a bottle of red wine. She poured the wine and handed a goblet to us
both, before retreating back to the kitchen.
She returned again, minutes later, with another tray, piled high with
fruits and cheeses and cuts of cured meat for us to enjoy. As she retreated, I lifted my goblet to
Adoria, and smiled, my lavender eyes staring into her own.
“A toast of celebration is in order, I believe…” I
said, and she smiled, touching her goblet to mine. “To new beginnings!”
Her smile faded slightly at that, and I winced,
wondering at what sore memory I had inadvertently stumbled upon. She sipped her wine, though, and settled
back, her emerald eyes looking into mine.
I held her gaze for a long moment, then smiled.
“What is it?” I asked.
“Your eyes…they are…strange…” she replied, then her
eyes widened in alarm. “I’m sorry! I meant no offense.” I raised a hand to wave away the notion that
she had offended me.
“They are.” I answered. “My mother often hinted that my eyes were the
result of an ancient tie in blood to the feyfolk that once ruled this
land. Of course, my father said it was
rubbish, that my eyes were just an odd chance of birth, though I always fancied
the idea of being part of a mysterious lineage.”
She chuckled at my jest, and seemed all at once to become
more comfortable with this stranger she had only just met. Perhaps it was the wine, or my charm coupled
with it, but whatever the reason, she calmed considerably, and became more
cordial a guest to her vampire host.
“I can boast no such magical lineage…” she said,
smiling brightly. “In Seelia, it matters
simply that your family line is loyal to the emperor, and that your wealth is
loyal to him, as well.”
“Seelia is a grand empire.” I said. “That they have not brought their armies to
Gothis is a surprise to most. We have a
large army of our own, but even then, Seelia isn’t known to be intimidated by
anyone.”
She nodded at that and sipped her wine, thinking for
a long moment.
“My father believes that the emperor will not risk a
campaign across the sea. It would only
weaken his hold over the senate and even his loyalists. Such an expensive war would surely be his downfall,
even if it were successful.”
I nodded, glad that the matter had been determined
too high a risk, at least. After all,
Gothis was my home, and had been so for centuries. Even if I were an undead monster that thrived
only on blood, I was still a Gothisian at heart, and my country was as dear to
me as the memories forged within it.
Just then, I was reminded that the vagrant’s blood
had not been enough. I felt that
familiar ache within me, that need for more.
A vampire’s hunger was never truly sated, only abated, temporarily
bought off with the promise that more would come. As I sat there, conversing with her, I could
feel the hunger rising within me, and I knew that if I did not feed again, and
soon, she would be in very real danger of becoming my next victim.
As soon as that thought crossed my mind, so too did
the image of my dead wife’s face. I
shuddered, the silver goblet shaking in my hand, making Adoria pause and look
at me, her emerald eyes full of concern.
“Are you alright?” she asked, leaning forward, her
empty hand lying atop my own. I stared
at her hand, at her slender fingers and soft knuckles. I could see the veins beneath her skin, pale
and barely visible, the slightest twitch of her flesh revealing the blood
pumping beneath. I could almost imagine
the taste of her blood, strong and sweet, full of the mystery and intrigue of
her homeland. My hand slid atop hers,
and as my fingers curled around hers, I could see what would happen. I knew that I would pull her to me, making
her spill her wine in the sudden jolt, and I would wrap her in my arms,
crushing her to me, while I sank my fangs into her slender neck and drank her
hot, spiced blood, gorging myself on her life.
I shuddered again, and she sat back, setting her
goblet aside. I stared at her for a long
moment, then rose, and bowed rigidly.
“Forgive me…” I said.
“I should be going. There are
matters I must attend to, the least of which is your belongings and their safe
delivery. Will you be staying here, at
this inn?”
“I…I suppose so.” She replied, looking up at me. “Are
you okay? You seem flustered.”
I smiled, doing my best to bite back the growl that
wanted to come forth, right before I would spring upon her and sate this horrid
need for blood. Instead, I straightened,
and nodded.
“Yes. It’s
late, and I fear I’m growing tired. But
I will come to you again, Adoria, if you will have me.”
She smiled then, and nodded, despite her worry.
“I would like that very much, Euliclese…” she
said. “Thank you for being so kind to a
stranger.”
“Of course, my dear.” I replied, and bowed
again. I hurriedly turned and exited the
inn, nearly bursting out the front door in my haste. I rushed down the street, taking care to move
only as fast as a mortal might if they somewhere to be. The hunger was rising in me, climbing to
dangerous heights, and I knew that had I stayed any longer, Adoria would have
been dangerously close to becoming but another corpse, another mysterious death
in a city full of unexplainable ends.
And how I would have hated myself had I succumbed to my desire! It had been five centuries since my death,
and yet, for all that time, the hunger was as powerful as ever. Perhaps, even more so.
So lost was I in my trek to put as much distance
between her and I, that I didn’t recognize the voice of the man calling to me,
demanding his payment. I stopped, my
head turning slowly, trying to clear my thoughts. I recalled the face of the man from the
docks, and his words began to reach my addled mind. He had delivered the items to the inn, and
wanted his payment of gold that I had promised him he would receive upon
completion.
“Come then...” I said, motioning him to join me. “I have more coin in my townhouse
nearby. I’m afraid I spent what I had on
the fair lady you saw me with.”
“She was a looker, she was…” he replied, and I turned
my gaze to see him grinning, lustful thoughts moving through his mind. I could read them if I had wanted to, but the
look on his face was more than enough to make me comfortable in my decision to
kill him.
Moments later, we had arrived at my rented
townhouse. I led him into the place,
paying no mind to the fact that his muddied boots were leaving tracks across
the carefully carved marble floor, or that his stink was settling into the
tapestries along the wall. The only
thing that mattered was the scent of his blood, almost overwhelming, and it was
all I could do to close the door and lock it.
I turned to face him, only to see him sneer and wave his knife at me
threateningly.
“I’ll be taking more than your coin, your grace…” he
said. “While I certainly thank you for
the chance at an honest wage, I like to get more than what’s owed me.”
“You’re threatening me?” I asked, scoffing at the
very notion. Of course, he had no idea
that death stood before him, that he would be earning no more than a painful
end for his endeavor.
“You nobles are all the same, thinking your coin will
protect you…” he replied, but before he could say anymore, I rushed at him, a
burst of supernatural speed propelling me against him and slamming him against
the wall. The tapestries shook with the
impact, and the knife fell from his hand, clattering on the marble floor. I growled, and my lavender eyes burned
brightly in the darkness. He saw them,
and his mouth opened to scream. But
before he uttered a sound, I sank my fangs into his throat, tearing open his
flesh, his thick blood pouring into my hungry mouth. I held him there, his struggles insignificant
against my preternatural strength, until he was dead, and his blood coursed
through my veins. When I could draw no
more, I let him drop, his body landing in a broken heap on the marble floor.
“Your payment is made in full.”
_______________________________
I had visited her many more times, the two of us
discussing the poets and artists of the time, and traveling the city, visiting
the old cathedrals and halls of study where monks quietly researched the past,
seeking answers to the future. I was
careful to gorge myself on blood before seeing her, to keep at bay the constant
hunger for more. Those that had died had
been like the man who had assaulted me in my own home: drifters, predators of
their own kind, who thought nothing of killing for coin. I necessitated their deaths, their blood
feeding the predator within me, and I took comfort in the knowledge that I had
saved many more from these killers, just as I always had. One month became two, and she became ever
more enamored of me, and I her. But I
knew all of this was temporary.
“You look stunning…” I said as she descended the
carpeted stairs at The Ivory Mare. She
wore a long green gown, the same color as her eyes, with lime colored gloves
that reached her upper arms and her long, auburn hair hanging loosely about her
shoulders. Her lips were rubies, and her
emerald eyes gleamed in appreciation of my words. Obviously, she had taken care in her
appearance, wanting to make a lasting impression on her nobleman caller.
“Thank you, Euliclese.” She replied. “You are too kind. And you are rather distinguished yourself, I
see. This must be a special occasion.”
I chuckled and took her hand, leading her through the
inn and outside, to the waiting coach.
The driver held the door open for us, and I held her hand, aiding her as
she climbed in. I joined her, and nodded
to the driver, who closed the door and climbed onto his bench. The horses lurched forward, and we were soon
off, heading out of the city.
“Where are we going?” she asked, her emerald eyes
watching the passing streets and buildings grow smaller the farther we got
outside of the city.
“We travel to Blackthorne Manor.” I replied. “It’s the ancestral home of my family, having
lain empty for many years now. I find
that there are…old ghosts there, that I don’t wish to disturb. I keep it in repairs, however. It is a part of my family’s history, after
all.”
She studied me as I spoke, and I could feel her
uncertainty rising. She had seen me as a
regional noble, one who could be her gateway into this strange new land she
found herself in. But I was rather
eccentric, only coming to her at night, never revealing where I was headed
before dawn and never returning to her before sunset. And though our conversations were full of
jest and gentle teasing and a growing adoration for one another, there was
always that question lingering in her eyes, that suspicion that there was
something I was keeping from her. And
she knew it was something important.
“Why does it sit empty?” she asked. “Have you no family to share such a large
manor with?”
“Alas, I do not.
They all live many miles from here, having traveled the kingdom to find
their own lands to rule.” I lied, the words coming surprisingly easy to
me. “Ah, here we are.”
She looked out of the door’s window, and her green
eyes lit up at the sight of the looming manor.
I had taken care to light torches along the long path that led to the
front gates, as well as along the borders of the house, where iron sconces hung
at regular intervals along the grounds.
The hedges and gardens were overgrown, and the voices of chirping frogs
echoed into the night, making the whole area seem teeming with life. The coach drove through the open gates, and
rode directly to the house, only stopping at the entrance, the looming stone
pillars like a giant’s causeway into a home just as large.
The driver stopped the horses and climbed from his
perch to open the door for us to exit. I
stepped out and led Adoria down as well, before handing the driver a small bag
of coins. He nodded, tucking the pouch
away into his coat, and climbed back atop his bench. He led the team back down the drive, and I
turned, leading her to the double oak doors, carved in swirling, circular
releifs and stained mahogany. I turned
back, smiling at her, and I could see the worry in her features.
“What is wrong?” I asked.
“I…nothing.” She replied. “I’ve just never seen a home so large
before! The emperor’s estate isn’t so
grand! It’s all a bit overwhelming.”
“It is impressive.” I replied. “Come, let me show you the interior.”
I led her within, and lit a small candelabra, the
tiny flames illuminating the great entry hall.
On either side were large paintings, portraits of the men who came
before me, from my father and grandfather, back to the original founder of my
familial line. Of course, I only told
her that these were ancestors, that I could hardly recall their names, and that
they were almost as old as the house itself.
We ventured further within, our quiet footfalls echoing throughout the
looming hall, making us seem trespassers in a tomb.
My mind raced back to the moment when the manor had been a tomb, when it had been the
final resting place for many of my family.
I could smell the burning rafters and the blood spilled in the attack on
my family. We had been hunters, a clan
of them, and far and wide, vampires and werewolves and other dangerous
supernatural creatures knew of us, and the danger we represented. It was a matter of duty to the men in my
family, and even those who wanted no part of the life were always drawn in. Once your eyes were open to the dark secrets
of the world, they could never be closed again.
I was brought into the truth of my family’s path when I was young, and
had been trained to fight the evil things that haunted the darkness. But even all that training had not been
enough when the attack had come.
“Euliclese?” Adoria asked, drawing me from my
memory. “Are you alright?”
“Yes…my apologies.” I replied. “Old ghosts, as I said.”
“This manor is incredibly large…I can only imagine
how many people must have lived here to necessitate it being so big! There must have been hundreds!”
“Indeed. There
was my family, but beyond them, there were always servants and the soldiers
that were loyal to the family. And there
were always rooms kept ready for traveling nobles and family that was
visiting.”
I led her through the entryway and into the grand
hall, where my father had attended the business of his land. Everything seemed so very empty now, so lifeless,
so much like a shell of its former glory.
From there, we moved to the curving stairs that led to the second floor,
and I led her to the manor’s grand library, a favorite place of mind that I
still frequented on those occasions when the manor called me home.
I heard her gasp, and watched as she moved toward the
center of the library. There, covered in
a white linen sheet, was a large harp, the bend carved in the shape of a
soaring angel. She slowly removed the
sheet, and gently ran her fingers over the instrument. Plucking one of the strings, she smiled, and
looked back at me, her green eyes bright in the darkness.
“May I?” she asked, and I could sense her
eagerness. I nodded, and began moving
about the room, lighting more candles from my candelabra. Soon, the room was bathed in a warm light,
and as I finished, the first few notes of the harp began to dance through the
air.
I laid the candelabra atop a small desk and turned to
watch her. Her eyes slid closed, and a
faint smile pursed her ruby lips. Her
fingers slid across the strings, her arms moving in and out like a mermaid
beckoning a sailor to shore. I watched
transfixed by the pure serenity on her features, lost in the melody of the
harp, and the swirling sweet sounds that she seemed to draw out of the
instrument, as though only her hands could bring forth such beauty. She was an angel to me then, an angel of
music and beauty, and it was at that moment, that I knew I had to have
her. I knew then that I would bring her
into eternity, by my side, to forever preserve such beauty, such creativity,
and such grace. It was a purely selfish
want, but like any vampire, I was convinced that it was my duty, my
responsibility, to ensure that the world would never lose her, would never lose
such passion and talent as this.
Slowly, her song faded, and I opened my eyes. I had not realized they were closed, that I
had been so powerfully drawn into the sweet melody. She was looking at me, smiling brightly, her
emerald eyes rimmed with sweet tears, the music having touched her as
powerfully as it had me. I pushed away
from the desk then, and moved to her. She
rose, and without a word, we fell into one another’s arms. Our lips met, our tongues danced together,
and we reveled in the pure beauty of the moment. I felt a happiness at that moment that I had
not felt in a very long time. There was
love in my heart for her, or what could pass for love with a vampire, and I
could feel that emotion returned in every caress of her hands, in every touch
of her lips. Slowly, we fell to the
floor, exploring one another, a passionate hunger growing in both of us.
But there was a darker hunger growing within me,
spurred on by the passion between us. I
urged it back, fighting it, willing it to be gone! But it continued to grow, to rise inside of
me, like a beast slowly awakening from some hidden depth to haunt me once more. Silently, I begged the beast to go away, to
leave me be just this once, but it was useless.
I could no more fight the hunger than I could fight against the
affection I had for Adoria. As our
bodies connected, our passion turning to physical need, I fell into her arms,
losing myself in her soft skin and her hungry kisses. We reveled in the moment, in the total loss
of control, so freely given to one another.
But she could not have known what would happen next, no more than I
could have prevented it from happening.
Some things are just fated to be, it seems.
At the moment of her climax, as her lips parted in a
soft moan, I pressed my fangs into her neck.
A vampire’s bite is often referred to as the kiss, because it overwhelms the victim, filling them with
pleasure, masking the pain of our fangs sinking into their flesh. When I bit into her, she gasped in ecstasy,
her body still writhing along my own. I
wrapped my arms around her, holding her against me, her rich blood filling my
mouth. Again and again I swallowed,
drinking more and more, until she collapsed against me, unable to hold herself
upright any longer.
I pulled back then, and gasped, the sound of her
beating heart still echoing in my mind.
I turned, rolling her onto her back, her eyes half lidded and her
breathing shallow. I knew she was near
death, and if I did not act quickly, she surely would perish. But I no intentions of letting her go, and
would not allow her to slip from my grasp.
I bit my wrist, tearing my pale flesh, my thick blood slowly pooling at
the wound. I looked down at her, and she
stared weakly back at me, trying to breathe more deeply, trying to fight the
dying of her heart. Silently, I pressed
my torn wrist to her lips, my dark blood smearing across her ruby lips, and
slowly, she began to drink. I watched
her eyes, seeing the mixture of fear and hunger there. She knew she didn’t want to die, but she also
knew that what she was doing was wrong, that somehow it was an abomination
against life and nature. But like a man
drunk on wine, she wanted more, needed more, and would not surrender until she
had her fill.
Finally, when I was certain that she could take no
more, I pulled my wrist back, and she moved to lunge after it, anger flashing
across her face at having the blood taken away.
But she fell back just as quickly, then lurched in pain, my dark blood
moving through her veins and replacing that which had been taken. This was always the hardest part for any new
vampire. Her body was dying, and the
agony of it was the most intense pain she had ever experienced in her mortal
life. I moved away from her, giving her
room to thrash about. I knew that she
wanted my comfort then, but I also knew that she had to fight this battle
alone. There had been one other before
her, a man named Derrien. I had been
young then, and had waited too long to give him back the blood I had
taken. He had died, but I was certain
that Adoria would survive. She just had
to push through this pain!
Suddenly, her body went still, and she exhaled, her
last breath leaving her. Her green eyes
grew clouded, and she seemed entirely lifeless, void of hope. I stared at her, my mouth agape, my fears
mounting. Had I failed again? Had I doomed another to death while intending
to give them eternal life? Slowly, I
sank to my knees, my hands at my sides, desperation building within me as I
watched her lie motionless on the floor.
“No.” I whispered, the pain of failure too great for
me to endure. “Not again.”
My eyes
darkened with tears of blood that slowly began to dim my vision. The weight of
failure fell upon my shoulders, and I felt my shoulders slump in defeat. How could I have done this again? How could I have thought this time would be
different?
What kind of monster was I?
Suddenly, her eyes opened, and she gasped for
air. She rose from the floor, rising to
her elbows, her eyes wide with fright and her mouth open wide as she struggled
for breath. She breathed quickly and
heavily, panicking, her mind struggling with what had just been done to
her. I cried out in relief, and she
turned to look at me, her eyes studying me, her mind trying to work out what it
was that I had done to her.
I moved toward her, and she scrambled backwards,
knocking the harp onto its side, the shrill sound of the instrument colliding
with the floor sending shivers down my spine.
She winced at the noise, and her eyes seemed to dim in sadness. But they hardened again, and she swung her
gaze toward me, her lips curling in a sneer.
“What did you do to me?” she cried, and I stopped,
staring at her and seeing the viciousness in her eyes.
“Try to be calm…” I said, although I knew that she
was anything but. “Let me explain.”
“You’re a monster!” she shouted, and quickly stood,
pulling her gown up with her to hide her nakedness. She turned to go, to flee the room, but I
moved quickly, blocking the doorway. To
her eyes, the movement was a blur, and she stumbled backwards in shock.
“I am a monster.” I replied, looking at her, my
lavender eyes glistening in the candlelight.
“But I am not without a heart.
Why else would you have come here tonight?”
“You tricked me…” she retorted, falling to the divan,
holding her gown up to her shoulders like a blanket that would protect her from
her nightmares. “Lured me here!”
“Maybe.” I replied. “But here you sit. And it was not because you were afraid of
me. And I don’t think you’re afraid of
me now.”
She seemed to calm then, somewhat, but she still
stared at me with open suspicion, as though she were afraid that I would lunge
at her at any moment and kill her. I
moved across the room and slid back into my own clothing, and she did likewise,
though she turned her back to me as she did so, as though her modesty was all
that mattered. I would have laughed at
the thought if it had not been so poignant in marking just what had been lost
between us.
“You’re a vampire, now.” I
said, and she turned then, her eyes wide and her mouth open to protest. She remained silent, though, and I continued. “That is what I have made you, Adoria. You will not die from age, or sickness. Death may yet come, but it will take much to
end this new life. You will need to
drink blood, and I will show you how.”
“Blood?” she asked, suddenly growing very fearful. She stiffened, and I knew then that she could
hear the heartbeat of the young farm girl in the next room, the one I had
stolen for just this purpose. I watched
as she turned, slowly, scenting the air, the blood calling to her. Like a wraith, she moved silently through the
room, and out into the hallway. She only
paused to look back at me once, and I nodded, urging her forward. It would be better if she did this now, and
of her own free will.
She moved into the adjoining room, the old door
creaking on its hinges as it slid inward.
Lying there, curled into the fetal position, was the young farm girl,
wearing a tattered brown dress and wool socks.
She was sleeping peacefully, despite the threat to her life, though she
knew little as to the truth of what would happen to her. But my childe knew what would happen, and
even as she moved to kneel beside the sleeping girl, I could sense her
hesitation.
“Drink.” I whispered, urging her on. She turned her gaze back to look up at me,
and her eyes were wet with tears. She
didn’t want to do this, I knew that immediately. I had not wanted to do it, either. But fate often puts us into situations that
we are forced to deal with, no matter how much we don’t want to. I watched as she slowly turned back to the young
girl, and bent, her lips moving to the girl’s throat.
The young girl only winced a little as her neck was
bitten. I smiled despite myself, and
stood there quietly, overseeing her first feeding. A mixture of emotions welled within me at
that moment. I had taken this beautiful
young woman from her regular, ordinary life and had brought her over into
something dark and terrible, but capable of exquisite beauty. Everything a vampire sees is accented by a
vision much like a hawk’s own, sharp and focused and clear. Works of art and colors were rich and vibrant
to the newly dead, and we never really stopped being amazed by the clarity with
which we saw the world. The same was true
for a vampire’s other senses. The music
of her harp reached my ears in a way that no human might hear it, and now she
would hear that lovely melody as well.
When she pulled back, the young girl was dead. Adoria slid backwards, and stood, turning to
face me. She slid her tongue over her
lips, and slowly raised her gaze to my own.
I saw many things in her eyes then, but nothing quite so powerful as the
loathing within them. She was well aware
of her new senses, and the vibrancy of the world around her. But she was also quite aware of what she had
just done, and of what she had lost in leaving her mortal life behind her.
“You didn’t give me a choice.” she said.
“Would you have chosen death?” I retorted, irritated
by her insolent tone.
“I wouldn’t have chosen this.” she replied, and
brushed past me.
____________________________
Despite her anger, she remained with me. Where could she go? She had no lodging in the city that would
protect her from the burning light of dawn, and she knew no other creatures
like us that would offer her succor. She
was only just learning of what it meant to be immortal, and the more she
learned, the more she came to accept what she had become. Over the next few weeks, I tutored her as
though she were my pupil. I taught her
the ways of our kind, of being a vampire, and what that meant. She was curious as to the origins of vampires,
and seemed disappointed when I told her that I truly did not know.
I told her my own story, and it seemed to quell some
of the fires within her. When she
learned that I was not given a choice either, she seemed to come to terms with
her own fate. She even managed a tear
when I told her of how I had drained the life-blood of my own wife during my
first feeding, though whether it had been genuine or not, I could not
tell. What was important was that she
was beginning to understand herself, and to understand me, and the life we
might have together, such as it was.
“Why me?” she had asked one night, as we reclined in
the grand library. She had taken a
liking to the harp, and it seemed the only thing that might comfort her. I looked up from the tome I had been reading,
my eyes focusing on her in the gloom.
“Why you?” I asked.
“Why not?” I chuckled at the
question, only to have her glare at me, my response obviously not what she had
wanted to hear. I lifted a hand to
indicate there was more, and to calm her.
Her temper had been growing since she had become a vampire, and I had
often feared it would overcome her judgment.
“You were…are…exotic and foreign, a stranger in a
strange land, as the saying goes. And
you were naïve, and quite unsure of what you had gotten yourself into in coming
here. I could see it in your eyes, that
fear, that uncertainty. But there was
something else hiding there, something buried beneath that nervous
demeanor. It was a confidence,
Adoria. A strength of will. That was why I chose you. And your beauty and talent with the harp,
your ability to create such glorious music needed to be preserved for all
eternity.”
“Not for love?” she asked, her voice little more than
a whisper.
“Love is…difficult…for our kind.” I explained. “It is said that love conquers all, but that
is not true. I loved my wife. But in the end, when the hunger overtook my
mind, I killed her nonetheless.”
“If not for love, then for what?” she asked, her eyes
lifting to stare questioningly into my own.
“For eternity.” I answered. She stared at me silently for a long moment,
then stood from the harp. I watched as
she slowly turned and walked from the room, and I let her go. She needed time to think through what had
been done to her. I knew that, and I
also knew that there was nothing I could do to help her through this time. She would need to come to terms with this on her
own, and nothing I could say would help her.
When next we spoke, she was calmer, more somber about
her fate. I did not question her about
where she had been, or what she had been doing in the week since last we
met. The manor was quite large, and there
were many dark places for a person to find if they truly wanted to be
alone. I left her to her solitude, to
her grieving, knowing that she alone could find her way back from the darkness. But when she did, I had not counted on what
would happen next.
“I’m leaving.” she said flatly, her hands folded
behind her, her gaze staring at the wall above me because she could not meet my
gaze. I stood there numbly, feeling the
world shift beneath me, as though she had slid it out from under my feet. I stepped forward to go to her, to comfort
her, but her upturned palm stopped me in my tracks, keeping me at bay.
“You have no idea what you took me from, do you?” she
asked. “There was a life for me, if not here, then back in Seelia. I was only 22, Euliclese. And now that life is gone. And I can never get it back…”
I opened my mouth to speak, but was once again
silenced by her upturned palm, but moreso by her emerald eyes, and the tears of
blood that rimmed them.
“I sail for Seelia tomorrow.” she said, and I nearly
collapsed then and there. “I have taken
every precaution to ensure safe passage.
My father’s coin has seen to that.
Don’t follow me, Euliclese. If
whatever you feel for me is anything akin to love, do as I ask. I will return…someday. But there are things that I am not ready to
leave behind me. You lost everyone that
you have ever loved, and you were spared the thought of never being able to see
them again while they were alive and you were not. But my family is alive and well, and I cannot
let them think I have died.”
“They will be in danger with you around.” I said, finally
managing to speak. “You have no control
over the hunger, Adoria.”
“Like you did, Euliclese?” she retorted. “Your control, or lack thereof, has led to
this. But do not despair, lord vampire. I am not afraid to admit that I love
you. And my heart will not let me turn
away from you. But you must give me
this. Give me peace to go as I
will. I will return, and when I do, it
will be when nothing can keep us apart.”
I knew she was right.
I had to let her go. As much as
it pained me, she would only grow colder and more distant if I kept her with
me, locked in a gilded cage, never to spread her wings and grow. I moved to her then, and she did not
protest. I pressed my lips to hers, and
she kissed me back, our arms entwined about each other. Only reluctantly did I let her go, and it was
with no small amount of grief that I watched her board her vessel the following
night. She stood at the side, watching
me, even as the ship began to move out to sea.
I remained at the harbor, watching the ship until it was out of
sight. I stayed even longer, until the
night had passed, and dawn threatened to turn me to ashes. Even then, the thought of meeting with the
dawn’s burning light seemed fitting, the rightful penance for my crime. But her words kept me whole and alive.
She
would return.
Someday.
