In the darkness there is a light,
A light that guides my path.
It shines on the water,
Calling to me, beckoning me.
In the darkness there is a light,
A light to show my heart’s desire.
It is my guiding light,
The path to the safest of havens.
The light leads to sanctuary.
The light leads to home.
~ Anonymous
Eric’s POV
Every night for the last three weeks, a single light has shone across the water. Its orange glow hovers over the sea, eerie in the solitude of the night. No matter the weather, the light appears. It is a beacon, a signal, a herald to whom I do not know. Is it the light to guide a weary sailor? Perhaps a signal between lovers? Many thoughts have been consumed by this light. I know not where it comes from or who sets it ablaze each night. Godric, my maker, does not want me to explore that part of the coast; he says it is not safe for our kind. In the five hundred plus years we have been together, I have never heard him say that a place is not safe for us. What could possibly inhabit that land to make it dangerous for a vampire?
Godric, my vampire sister Nora, and I have been in Ireland for nearly two months. Nora is a newly turned vampire. Godric made her because I requested it of him. I admired her courage and spirit when I first met her in the plague-infested slums of London. She may have been the king’s favorite courtesan, but Nora belonged to no one. Even in death she remained a free spirit, preferring to die alone with the peasants rather than in the comforts of a bed controlled by the king. She may have been forced to give him her body, but he never conquered her mind or soul. It was the same fire, the same passion for life that Godric had seen in me on the battlefield so long ago. I recognized that Nora was a kindred spirit and took her to my father, begging him to give her the same chance to live, to be the companion of death and his son.
When Nora had risen a vampire, we fled England for Ireland. She could not stay in England for fear someone would recognize her. And Nora spoke no other languages besides English, so we were forced to flee to a country where she would have an easy time transitioning to her new existence. It was much simpler when I had been turned. Humans were fewer in number and transportation between villages was very rare due to the difficulty of the journey. But as civilization has advanced, populations have increased and technology has advanced. It has been fascinating to watch, but has made being a vampire equal parts easier and difficult. Larger cities with booming populations are perfect feeding grounds for hungry vampires, but one cannot stay too long in an area because of how easy it has become to travel from one place to another. Not to mention that now people have longer life spans due to advancements in medicine and availability of food. People will begin to grow suspicious if they notice we are not changing in appearance, which is why we must move every few years.
In all the years Godric and I have been together, this is the first time for us in the Emerald Isle. He has always wanted to avoid this country for some reason. I do not know why. When I have asked him about it, he tells me that it has to do with the politics of the land. I could understand that. Politics in the supernatural world is a tricky business, far more complex than the system of jarls, karls, and thralls I was used to. The vampire world still has thralls, though now they are referred to as pets. More often than not, a pet is a heavily glamoured human that is used for blood and the safety of residing in their home. There have been times when my maker and I have been forced to rely on this type of situation, but Godric has also shown great distaste for it. I think it is because of his own status as a slave while human. Godric has never spoken of his life as a human. It has been through my intellectual studies and snippets of gossip from other supernaturals that I know some of the markings on his body represent his designation as a slave under the Roman Empire. The story also goes that Godric was released from his maker because of the Ancient Pythoness. I do not know who my maker’s maker is; Godric refuses to speak of him and none will utter his name. Even among the ruthless and bloodthirsty, Godric’s maker is viewed as a pariah for his sadistic ways.
I have been sitting in the dark staring at the light lost in my thoughts. Tonight I am acting as a guard while Nora hunts. Godric said he needed to attend a meeting with the local political leader and neither of us were welcome to attend. When we had questioned why, Godric had explained that Ireland was not ruled by any vampire; the country was overseen by a council consisting of members from four different supernatural clans. I had never heard of such a thing before. Much of Europe and Asia did not follow the boundaries of the human political map. Vampire hierarchy is far more feudal in its boundaries, and definitely as bloodthirsty. Territories are fought over frequently as vampires try to increase their hunting grounds. Godric has never believed in tying oneself down to a specific area; we have existed as nomads. It has served us well thus far; I hope adding Nora to the mix will not cause any problems.
Nora behaves exactly as a new vampire should. She’s easily excitable, hungry all the time for blood, and likes to test the limits of her powers. I’d like to think that I was an easier child for Godric to handle than Nora has proven to be. Nora is extremely temperamental as Godric likes to say. To be blunt, she’s a bitchy cunt when she doesn’t get her way, which is quite often. I enjoy needling her, knowing that she will lose control of her temper and try to attack me. Foolish girl; she may be stronger than any mortal thanks to her newfound powers, but she is no match for me. I enjoy subduing her, showing her that I will always be superior to her. Nora and I have a typical brother/sister relationship in that we fight . . . A LOT! The only difference is that our fights usually end up with us fucking. Nora was no virgin when she was turned and was far more knowledgeable than most women when it comes to the carnal desires, but that still didn’t prepare her for the absolute ecstasy that is sex as a vampire. Sex for a vampire involves all of the senses and everything is heightened because of our increased abilities. Imagine having every nerve in your body electrified, so that you feel as if you are actually going to burn to a cinder. You can focus on every single tremor, every pulse, and you have the ability to move your body so fast that you vibrate, creating the most delicious of sensations along your heightened senses. You can smell your lover’s arousal and it can be the most decadent aphrodisiac. And taste. . . It can be the food of the gods themselves when the different flavors explode along your tongue. You can distinguish every flavor, know the sweetness as well as the savory. The sounds of your lover are the symphony to which you conduct your sexual experience. Adagio, allegro, staccato, legato . . . These are the ways to conduct your symphony. I have studied my craft well; you might even call me a virtuoso when it comes to the fine art of il rapporti sessuali.
From the sounds of it, Nora is putting all of her time under my careful tutelage to good use this evening. Tonight we had gone to the local tavern to find Nora a meal. I fed from our neighboring humans before we left our nest because I did not want to be distracted while Nora hunted. This will be the first time Nora has hunted without Godric watching over her. She was equal parts nervous and exhilarated knowing that Godric was trusting her enough to do this without him present. Nora has yet to kill a human thanks to Godric’s careful teachings and use of the maker’s command. Her joy at being able to hunt without our maker nearby had been dampened when Godric said I would be tagging along. She’d thrown a fit of epic proportions, one that will surely earn her a punishment from Godric later. Had he not been pressed for time because of his meeting, he would have done it earlier. However, Godric made it perfectly clear to my brattish sister that she should enjoy the little freedom she will have this evening, because it will be the last privilege that she has in the days to come. I have enjoyed needling her all evening to get her kicks in while she still can, who knows what type of punishment Godric will set for her. Perhaps he will forbid her from having sex, or maybe she will only be allowed to drink the blood of the sheep farmer nearby that always smells of wet wool, shite, and rotting pig. I have been putting every possible kind of punishment in Nora’s brain, having her fear the return of our father, dreading the impending dawn because it means the end to her freedom. In truth, Godric will probably do no more than forbid her from going out on her own and there may be some type of physical punishment, of which she will recover from. But she doesn’t need to know that. Call me petty and spiteful, but I do love riling my sister up. It’s no different than if we were children and I pulled her braids or untied her apron strings.
“Yes….ohhhh yes…don’t stop,” Nora moans from her rendezvous point with her nightly entertainment. For this evening’s feast, my sister has chosen a handsome burly Irish lad with black curly hair, skin tanned by hours toiling in the sun, and eyes the color of the heather that grows wild in the fields. Hearing that she is still occupied, I turn my attention back to the light. I do not know why I continue to focus on this glow night after night. Something about it calls to me, inviting me in as if I am a welcome friend. Tonight my eyes sought it out as Nora and I had raced to town. She didn’t understand my fascination; as she claimed, I was there when they invented fire, so a single flame should not hold my interest so much. Disrespectful wretch. If Godric does not return before sunrise as he warned us may be the case, I shall pull out all her fingernails and toenails. It is not painful….compared to other punishments I have received, but it is certainly annoying since the nail will constantly slice the skin as it regrows. It’s quite bloody and inconvenient….perfect for my dear sister.
My eyes stare unblinkingly at the soft yellow orange glow across the water. From my vantage point, I am high up on the cliffs looking down; the light comes from the shore across the way. The sound of the sea as it crashes against the cliffs is a constant roar, a battle between the elements. The cold salty water batters against the cliffs night after night, trying to erode the unforgiving stone. Sometimes I feel like those rocky cliffs, an unchanging rock that is hammered at by the world in which I exist. The human world, like the water below, is constantly moving, never stagnant; there will be periods of serenity as well as dark storms that create great upheaval. But through it all, the sea, like humans, evolves, it regenerates so that it can continue on. I feel disconnected from the place and time in which I live. I am five hundred years old, and I feel a sense of malady creeping through every surface of my body. Even with the presence of my maker, who is everything to me, and my vampire sister, who is a wonderful distraction from my troubles, I feel alone; like that ball of light.
What will Godric do if I give in to my curiosity one evening and investigate the source of the light? It is a simple thing really; all I need do is jump off these cliffs, plunging to the icy waters that rage below. It will be a fierce battle nature and beast to see who is victorious in their quest for supremacy. With my enhanced sight, surely I will see the source of the glow while still protected by the cloak of the sea. Despite the teachings of my people, I doubt there will be any sea monsters near the shore that will send me to Valhalla.
I am not seeking my True Death, but I am seeking something, what I do not know. I have this strange feeling that the light is meant for me and what I seek shall be behind the light. It is my light in the dark; my guiding light if you will.
I know I am being fanciful and if Nora knew the train of my thoughts she would torment me without mercy. But the impulse to investigate my light is growing stronger. The only time I have ever felt something similar is when I have been called by my marker; the compulsion to go to him is gentle in the beginning, growing steadily in intensity as well as pain the longer it is ignored. An unanswered call can be crippling; that is not a lesson I ever wish to experience again. I am a warrior, my body a finely calibrated killing machine, and yet I was reduced to a shrieking babe incapacitated on the ground while my maker’s call went unanswered. Perhaps this obsession with the light is the work of witches designed to entrap me; I am reaching the point of not caring if it is friend or foe that wields the flame, but my instincts tell me the maker of the light will not harm me.
“ERIC!” Nora’s shrill scream pierces the night sky and in an instant I am racing to her side. Nora is on the ground, incapacitated by the burning weight of silver chains wrapped around her body. Her meal, along with a few others, taunt her for her stupidity, telling her the brutal ways they will assault her body before sending her to her final death. They know there has been a vampire, and they are the hunters sent to deliver the True Death for trespassing on their land. Chancing a quick breath, I pick up the distinct smell of the two-natured from these men. How did Nora not realize? To me, the two-natured always smell wild and animalistic; their blood also has a distinct flavor. If it is ever a choice between the blood of the two-natured and starvation, I might actually chose to go hungry. Their blood reminds me of eating the last of the food storages when I was human. The food was barely edible, but it had to be eaten otherwise we would have starved. Then we had no choice; we knew the food would potentially make us sick, but we had to take the risk. The blood of Weres and Shifters is like that for me, only without the maggots.
The group of Weres is so focused on Nora they fail to realize I am upon them until it is too late for them. Four dead bodies litter the ground, their blood saturating the soil, trying to nourish it as it does me. The blood of the Weres feels thick and sour in my mouth and I am doing everything I can to spit it out. The fifth man, the one that trapped my dear sister, is caught under my glamour; his very existence is mine to do with as I please. However, my first priority is to attend to my sister.
“Nora,” I say, my voice heavy with anguish. My beautiful sister has never experienced the pain of silver, never known the agony of burnt flesh. I remember my first time under silver, how it makes a vampire feel completely helpless. Helplessness is the ultimate insult to a vampire; we are gifted with incredible strength and speed, our senses superior to those of any breathing creature, and yet insignificant things such as silver or a piece of wood can steal all of our strength or render us finally dead. Nora is huddled on the ground, crying in misery as the silver chains burn through her flesh. It isn’t the actual scorch mark or the smell of burnt hair and skin that make being silvered unbearable; it’s the fact that the silver fuses to our skin and the only way to remove it is by ripping away the silver and taking the layers of our flesh with it. I tear a shirt off one of the corpses to protect my hands and turn to Nora’s tortured form.
“Sister, forgive me,” I tell her softly. I know she thinks I am talking about the fact that I wasn’t here to protect her, but in actuality it is because of the fact I’m ripping several layers of her skin off her body.
“BLOODY HELL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Nora’s shrill voice splits the night sky as I rip the chains off her body in three swift moves. “You fucking wanker you did that on purpose!”
“Yes, it was my insidious plan this evening to have you silvered by a group of Weres because I had nothing better to do,” I say sarcastically before ripping my wrist open for my sister to drink from. She glares at me over my wrist and I raise my eyebrow at her in silent challenge. Nora drinks deeply, taking more than she should and I have to pull my wrist from her with a slight rebuke on my lips. “You cannot weaken me while we are still out in the open. We must deal with the one that was bait,” I say grinning widely so that my fangs are prominently displayed. Nora grins widely, the flesh of her body repairing itself quickly thanks to my blood. She will still need to have human blood to make sure she heals fully, but she should be completely healed by tomorrow evening. Had Godric been here, Nora would have healed completely within a matter of seconds. Thinking of my maker has me panicking slightly. What must Godric think is happening? I had been so focused on the situation before us that I had not given any thought to what Godric must be feeling through our bonds. I hurriedly push calm and reassurance through our bonds, letting our maker know that we are fine. But there is nothing there; it’s like the emotions have hit an invisible wall and bounced back. Never in the history of my relationship with my maker have I not felt him through our bond. I know he still exists, but I know not where he is nor what state he is in. This situation fills me with unease. Is this related to the attack on Nora? Has Godric orchestrated this to test Nora? Me?
“Nora we have to go,” I say in a commanding tone. All of my senses are on alert as I check for additional threats. “Grab the bodies. We need to clean this up quickly.”
“But I want my revenge,” Nora says as she drifts closer to the catatonic Were. She licks her fangs hungrily and shivers with delight. However both of our heads snap to the left as we hear shouts in the distance and the howl of a lone animal.
“Time to go,” I state to my errant sister. Before she can argue with me, I grab her in my arms and shoot up in the sky. As we are taking flight, a group of shifted animals in various forms appear where we were and others who have not shifted appear in the same place as well. Though that does not last long as they shed their human form and gives chase as they fly towards us in falcon form. I cannot lead them towards our nest and over the open water it will only be to their advantage since I have the added weight of Nora in my arms. The light is beckoning me again, telling me it is my safe haven. Call it a gut feeling, but I know Nora and I will be safe there. Pushing myself as hard as I can, I head towards the orange glow on the opposite shore. The falcons are screeching, squawking to each other as they soar closer to us. Nora watches with panicked eyes, tracking all of the birds while I focus on getting us to our destination.
“Eric they’re getting closer,” she shouts in my ear. Thank you for stating the obvious Sister; I know they are closing in because I can feel the motion of the air from the flapping of their wings and I can smell their stench.
“Do whatever you can to keep them from getting to us,” I command her. She nods and I suddenly plummet us closer to the water, hoping that the change in altitude will disorient them for a moment. If they were smart, they would have surrounded us, but this is what happens when you are dealing with animals. They lack the higher brain functions that would have enabled them to think strategically. Perhaps science will one day show that the brains of Weres and Shifters are significantly smaller than that of normal humans.
The light is getting larger, the glow warming me even from this distance. Sanctuary is a moment away and the sounds of the birds fades away. “Eric they are turning back,” Nora exclaims in wonder. When I chance a glance over my shoulder, I notice that all of the birds are in full retreat. If they are retreating, then it means they fear whatever is on the shore more than they want vengeance.
That is not comforting, but I have made my choice. I am bargaining on the lesser of two evils. And I still feel that the golden glow is welcoming me home.
Nora and I land on the sandy beach, and the moment my feet touch the white granular substance the beckoning blaze vanishes. Nora slides out of my arms and stands beside me on the ground. We are wary of our unknown surroundings as we should be. Strange, but I detect no odors of any kind, no sounds to clue us in as to what awaits us. What magic is this place?
Nora gasps in shock and I whirl around to protect her but what I find gives me pause. The only way I can think to describe what I find is an angel . . . a Valkyrie. A beautiful blonde woman stands in a shimmering light, making her look ethereal. A white robe with ermine shrouds her body, hiding her womanly form from my sight. Her upturned face is alight with happiness and relief.
“Viking, thank heavens you are here! I have been waiting for you,” she says in a relieved voice.
“Who are you?” I am filled with wonder as I gaze at her and I feel this compulsion inside me to go to her, as if she is the missing piece to my very soul.
This angel in front of me steps closer, and her full, pouty lips curve into a smile. “You can call me Sookie.”
TBC
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