by wordpresswhisperer@gmail.com | Jan 8, 2015
Twilight/True Blood
Bella/Eric
He watched from the edge of the forest as she slowly glided across the wet sand. The tide was low, so the frothy white caps of the small waves tickled her feet, causing her to giggle. He could barely make out her features, the light from her lantern causing shadows across her face, but he knew it was her. He felt her call to him.
He never moved from his spot, waiting to see if she knew he was there. He shouldn’t have been surprised when she stopped and turned in his direction.
“You came.” Her voice was a whisper, carried to him on the slight breeze that wound its way through the leaves on the trees surrounding him.
He didn’t answer, but instead slowly made his way to her, stopping only when she had to lean back to look into his eyes. Once he caught her gaze, he spoke. “Of course. I wouldn’t leave you alone, even in death, vorð.”
“It has been many years. I’ve walked this land, in this form, waiting to see you again. Hoping you would hear and feel my call to you, but you never came.”
“I’m here now. I won’t leave your side again,” he interrupted her. As he reached for her, she stepped back, causing his hand to hover in the space between them.
“How do I not know if I am dreaming this? I’ve dreamt of our reunion before. I have felt our souls caress each other. How do I not know if I am being played with again!” By the end of her speech, she was looking at the moonless sky and shouting her words, hoping for an answer that would not come.
He couldn’t stand to hear the sadness and doubt in her voice and closed the distance between them, pulling her tiny frame into his larger one. “Feel me. I am here. That is how you know the difference.”
He felt her shudder as she breathed him in. Slowly the tension in her body was leaving and only when he felt it leave completely did he feel her silent tears soak through his shirt.
“You’re really here?” She pulled back and began running her hands over his body, touching every part of him to make sure he was real.
He let her, knowing if he was in her position, he would be doing the same thing. He watched as the truth finally settled in her mind and laughed when she launched herself at him. He barely had time catch her before she framed his face in her tiny hands.
“Oh my god! You are really here!” She wrapped her legs around his waist and kissed every inch of his face, delighting in finally being able to touch him, to feel him.
Before their passion for one another got carried away, they were joined by another. They could barely make out the intruder’s form, so they concentrated on the voice that spoke to them.
“My Child.”
Eric gasped at hearing his sire’s voice for the first time since leaving him on the roof of the hotel months ago.
“Godric?” he whispered, trying not to get his hopes up.
The shadow moved closer and picked up the lantern that was discarded upon the lover’s reunion. He raised it slowly, allowing the light to reveal him inch by inch until his face was in full view.
“I am here, Eric.” He looked at the woman in his Child’s arms and smiled. “Isabella. I see he has finally answered your call.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact because he could see the proof right in front of him. At her nod, he turned his gaze back towards Eric.
Eric felt Isabella’s hands combing through his hair, giving him time to come to grips at seeing his sire again. He tightened his hold on her when she made to leave his arms to stand. “Eric,” she began, only to be stopped when Eric’s mouth claimed hers. He pulled back after a few minutes and asked his sire about his presence.
“Not that I’m not happy to see you, but why are you here?”
Godric smiled at this. While his reason for being there was bittersweet, he couldn’t help but be happy that his Child had maintained who he was.
“I am here to escort you both home.”
At seeing Eric’s questioning stare, Godric continued. “This,” he began, sweeping his arm out, “is where your Isabella has been waiting for you. I am to take you both home, when you are ready.”
Feeling Isabella wiggle in his arms, he allowed her to slide down his body and watched as she went to his sire’s side, taking one of his hands in hers. As Godric spoke, she held out her free hand.
“Are you ready, my Child?”
“For what?” he asked, looking between Godric and his love. When she answered, he felt peace for the first time since he watched her die years before.
“Our eternity.”
He didn’t answer as he took hold of her hand and laced his fingers through hers. He knew he was where he wanted and needed to be.
In a flash of light, they were gone, leaving behind a lantern with a fading light and a still ocean.
vorð – wife in Norse
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by wordpresswhisperer@gmail.com | Jan 7, 2015
Part 1
~~
Prologue
Sookie’s POV
~~
I was having a particularly shitty day.
Merlotte’s, the bar where I worked as a waitress, was especially crowded, with the drunks more annoying than usual, the regulars nastier than they were on their best days, Preston Pardloe – my stalker slash suitor – was again at the bar and the pack of grown up kids my brother called ‘his friends’, were getting on my nerves.
It was one of those days when I would foolishly wish for a small blessing, a fresh breath of air, like a look of his face again. He was – Oh wait, back up there! I haven’t said anything about him as yet have I?
Well, it had been years since I last saw him. Eric. And though I just saw him from afar, three or four times during a hot humid summer three years ago, his was not the kind of face someone easily forgot. Especially when that someone was stuck in a kinda hick town in the middle of nowhere, deep South. A town where every familiar face grew old after a while and new faces never showed up.
He showed up, though.
I was eighteen. He was maybe in his mid twenties, very tall and so much more handsome than the guys I regularly turned down. He was a Swede, with an accent I’d never heard before but one that made my palms sweaty. More extraordinary was the fact that he was a part time European student and part time researcher, just passing through while he was writing his paper on the Occult. What better place than Louisiana for a witch hunt (as my brother liked to say!)? He looked so… so worldly, so different, so…out of my league.
Once – just once – I got near enough to him to hear him speak to a group of my older brother’s friends, when Dawn, Tara and I dressed up all grown-up-like and sneaked into a grown-ups’ bonfire party by the bayou. My brother caught us before we could have any kind of fun (maybe sneak a beer or talk to the charming foreigner every one was going on about), and took it upon himself to drag us back to Gran’s in his road crew truck, lecturing our heads off all the way. In our defense, we went kickin’.
So, I never got to talk to Eric. Never even got introduced actually. Call it a teenage, hormonal crush, but I never forgot him either.
He must have spent around two weeks in Bon Temps, our town, before moving on. In those two weeks, every red blooded female in our town still capable of feeling their lady parts, set upon the mission to snatch him up before their neighborhood ho’ did. According to Gran’s hushed gossip with Maxine, a few of them married ones too! I never got to know if someone did snag him or not. Not that I wanted to know or anything.
Then one fine day, he just up and left and we never saw him again.
After he was gone a week or so, our old pastor (the perfectly God fearing Mr Parsons who Eric interviewed for his research), took it upon himself to inform the naive towns people that Eric was a blasphemous devil of a young man with no respect for God, human innocence, his elders or the Church for that matter. Of course, that just added to the rumors already circulating in his wake, and the word ‘dangerous’ to the legend of Eric Northman.
The memory of his tanned face, his perfect golden hair and his piercing blue eyes, although the most welcome distraction from my ordinary life, faded with time. I turned to it again and again in a stupid attempt to fill up my boring boyfriend-less existence. For a while, I even day dreamed about him driving back to town in an open top car, in his leather jacket and aviator sunglasses, screeching to a halt in front of my house and whisking me away to travel the world with him… The wonderful dreams of a silly teen. Gradually, the exact details of his face faded from my memory. All that remained with me was the color of his eyes and his hair, which was the exact shade as mine.
I wished I could recall his face that night because I’d been having a particularly shitty day.
Tulane cancelled my admission because of non payment of fees. They sent some kind of condolence letter home that I never read. My brother Jason and my Gran had another fight before Jason left home with his friends. I couldn’t even bring myself to go talk to gran when I heard her quietly crying behind her bedroom door. I just couldn’t. So I came to Merlotte’s instead.
I didn’t know what I was looking or waiting for! Waitressing at Merlotte’s had never been my life’s goal and yet that is all I could ever manage to do, and though I hated it, I also didn’t want to let it go because there was nothing else for me in Bon Temps. I needed to earn a living, take care of gran, and maybe save up for better things. I was hanging in there by my eyeteeth. For better or for worse, I couldn’t let go.
Part 2
~~
Eric
~~
Place – Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York
Time – 2:45 AM
Night Guard on Duty around the Temple of Dendur Exhibit – Bill Compton
Disjointed whispers in a dark corner…
“Wait for it…”
“We don’t have to do this…I could get you access anyways…”
“Where’s the fun in that?!”
“But….”
“C’mon! We’ve built it up to this. You can’t chicken out now!”
“This is mad…To think we are missing your dad’s ‘Soiree of the Season’ for – ”
“Shh! I can hear him coming…”
A guard appears beyond the pool surrounding the exhibit. He walks cautiously, occasionally looking over his shoulder and around him, shining his flashlight wherever the shadows are a little too dark for his comfort. He walks to the edge of the pool and peers towards the temple walls glowing eerily in the muted museum night lights.
“Alright.” he whispers. “Here goes nothing…”
He kneels and bows his head before calling out to the darkness.
“Your Royal Highness! My Queen! Your most humble servant is here to do your bidding”
Bill waits, balancing awkwardly on one knee. Minutes tick by and nothing happens. A bead of sweat rolls down his neck but he shivers as if he were cold.
“My Queen! Command your slave of anything you wish and I will do so even with my life!” he calls out again.
Inside the dark temple walls, Eric glares at his companion who rolls her eyes before she responds in a hiss…”Bloooodddd…Brrriiiinnnggg mee the blooodddd of the Roman!”
Bill Compton’s topples in his stance and falls face down, narrowly missing the water, before he hurriedly gets back to kneel again…
“Haw..” he clears his throat, “How do I get the blood Your Highness?”
“Come to the Roman’ssss tomb…Bleed on hisss ssssword….Commme now…”
“Yes. Yes Your Majesty.” Bill bows and beats a hasty retreat, doubling back to the entry hallway of the museum, where the others are waiting for him.
“HOLY SHIT, MANNN! Those were one of the best recordings we’ve had! So much activity! This is GOLD!”, says Zac, the head of Ghost Hunters, the paranormal research team on lock-down in the museum.
“We need to hurry. We will get something in the Roman exhibits. The Queen’s ghost said so!” Bill pants and is already moving across the hall towards the Roman exhibit area.
The three other members of the team hurriedly collect their recorders and EVP instruments and race towards the Roman Exhibits. No one notices the shadows slyly slipping out the door…As soon as the shadows leave, the security cameras start blinking green again.
~
“You are such a dick!”
Eric just strolls along, with his hands in his pockets, backpack hoisted lightly on his back, grinning smugly at the empty streets of New York.
“You aren’t even going to deign this with a smart ass remark?” the girl huffs.
“Oh c’mon Amelia… They are the dicks. We are just…rolling with it!”
Amelia rolls her eyes.
“What does that even mean?”
Eric sighs and turns to look at the girl. With their difference in height, he has to stoop to look into her eyes.
“It means I was taking out the trash. They don’t know shit about hunting. Dicks like that bring us a bad name. I couldn’t let them anywhere near the actual active portion of the museum. God knows what trouble they’d have conjured up for the rest of the world by trying to psycho analyse and help an honest to goodness ancient demon. There’s no helping that one! Him sleeping is for the best.”
Amelia’s eyes soften a little.
“It’s not your job you know… Saving the world.”
“No, it is not.” He shrugs nonchalantly as they reach his car. “But someone has to do it, Ame.” He says as he gets into the drivers side and cocks an eyebrow at Amelia. “You coming?”
“Yes.” Amelia huffs in resignation. “But I still think Dean Winchester is cuter with the dusty jacket look!” She adds for good measure.
Eric grins and shakes his head as he turns to start the car, finding Amelia already sitting at his side…
“Alright then… Where next?”
A nail filer appears in her hand as Amelia starts solicitously filing her fingernails. “You’re going to get a phone call.”
“And?”
“You need to take the call.” She answers in a singsong voice.
“Yes, it takes genius to answer a ringing phone.” Eric deadpans, as the car starts moving.
Amelia ignores the sarcasm, continuing the conversation with her never-ending cheer.
“Someone is waiting. They call for you. She calls for you.”
Eric gives her a long, sideways glance.
“Who is this she?”
Amelia smiles sagely and continues to try and tame her nails.
“You’ll see.” She says in a singsong voice again, and before Eric can question her further on the subject, she vanishes into thin air.
“The fuck, Amelia!” Eric yells, “Damn you, nineteenth century witch bitch! I am going to sell your soul to the King of Hell the next time I see-”
His solitary rant is cut short when his phone starts ringing. Eric checks the caller id.
“Of course! An unknown number!”
He taps the green button and puts the call on speaker.
“Hello?”
“Eric?”
Eric smiles as he recognizes the voice.
“Godric! How are you old friend? It’s been what? A year? Two?”
“Three actually. Since that Louisiana case.”
Oh, yes! The Louisiana case! The one case of his career, which Eric had not been able to solve, even with the help of his long-time friend and mentor, Godric. The matter of the suspected portal to another world! He had seen a man cross it with his own eyes. He still had it on tape, which meant he hadn’t been dreaming. Amelia said there was old magic around the place, but Eric never found the portal or what lay beyond it. The mystery of it all still gave him nightmares. Eric Northman was the kind of man who couldn’t suffer a mystery.
“Still keeps me up some nights.”
“Then I see I have called the right person.”
Eric straightened up.
“What is it, Godric?”
“Well you see… I may have found a lead.”
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up” Eric gasps.
“How soon can you get to Bon Temps, Louisiana?” Godric laughs.
Eric pushes his foot hard on the acceleration, “On my way already!”
~~
The town of Bon Temps was still the same. The beaten down roads, the old houses with paint chipping off most of them, the lonely bayou… Merlotte’s and it’s nosy patrons.
But this time when Eric parked in the far corner of the run down bar, he knew it in the pit of his guts that he was going to get lucky. Somehow, he knew things would turn in his favor. With the satisfied sigh of the man who knows everything would turn out fine, he turned off his precious vintage corvette, rolled the window glass half way down and settled comfortably in the low bucket seat to wait. And watch.
People came and went in twos or threes, wearing their Sunday best, too busy in their gossip to notice the lone dusty car parked halfway in the trees. Eric opened a bag of chips to kill time and think.
“That’s not very healthy you know.”
Eric rolled his eyes.
“Oh joy! Amelia! You’re back.”
She held up her hands, a different shade of pink nail polish in both. “Ok this or this?”
“The left one.” Eric said while stuffing his face with chips.
“My left or your left?” Amelia chirped.
“Shut up Amelia.”
“Your left it is…”
She proceeded to paint her nails and Eric, for once, watched in morbid fascination as the paint first coated and then disappeared from her nails as soon as she painted it on.
“You took the call I see.” she smiled smugly, as she kept applying the useless coats of paint to her dead nails.
“You’ve found something haven’t you?”
Amelia grinned, though she didn’t look up from her nails.
“Dead friend of a dead friend of another circle…Might have known someone who knew someone else, who in turn knew that guy.”
Eric excitedly turned in his seat, bag of chips forgotten, to look at Amelia.
“The guy who could go through the portal?”
“No. Not that one. But the one whose bloodline could.”
Eric’s jaw dropped.
“There is a bloodline?”
“And not an ordinary one either.” she paused for effect.
Eric was affected alright! He was practically shaking with excitement.
“Do they live here? In this town?”
“Oh yes! In fact” Amelia turned to look towards the bar, just in time for a limping shitfaced Jason to emerge from the door, resting heavily on the shoulder of a overly desperate looking woman, “There he is. One of the Stackhouse siblings.”
“Jason Stackhouse?” Eric almost choked on his own words.
“He is part of the bloodline. I am not sure he could cross the portal or not. Wait for Godric to form a plan…”
“Ame wait…”
And just like that Amelia disappeared again, leaving a frustrated but excited Eric in her wake. He watched as the woman loaded Jason into a truck and got behind the wheel to drive away his suspect as well as his lead. Wating annoyed him. But he had no option to wait for Godric and his information.
Eric sighed and picked up his bag of chips again as he started thinking.
Jason Stackhouse! Town romeo…Stackhouse…Stackhouse…Road crew…House at the end of the road…Used to live with his grandmother in an ancient farmhouse, actually really close to the bayou and the suspected site of the portal…The grandmother…She might know…She lived with…with…
Eric banged his head on the headrest as he tried to recall everything about the family.
Stackhouse…Stackhouses…He had a sibling…a sister…wierd name…Cookies…Oh yes! Sookie Stackhouse…Cute little blond thing…looked brighter than her brother for sure…She was his only sister, so if Jason was of the bloodline, she was too…Maybe he could investigate her movements too, in addition to the brother…
Something moved at the side and Eric’s hand automatically pulled out his pistol before his eyes even turned to check what or who it was.
A blond waitress; apparently on her break…
She was looking towards his car. Actually she was slowly inching towards the half hidden car as well. Eric carefully watched her move towards him, ready and loaded to shoot, run, incapacitate or charm the intruder, whatever the situation demanded. There was something familiar about her though. Eric was sure he had seen her before. He just couldn’t recall where.
The girl got close enough to have seen him sitting inside. Eric smoothed his face to call out a friendly greeting as soon as she smiled or talked to him. She didn’t do either.
The blond saw his face and froze, wide eyed, slack jawed and open-mouthed. It was as if she had seen a ghost. Eric counted till ten for the girl to speak, but she didn’t. She just stood there and stared at his face.
He opened his car door and stepped out.
“Hello there…Care to tell me about tonight’s specials, sweetheart?” he called out in a carefully constructed, carefree voice as he slowly walked to her. Now seeing her in brighter lights, the girl had more gold in her hair than the regular garden variety blondes of the South. Her eyes, sharp, bright blue, were fixed on him. Her face positively glowed.
Eric paused as he took in her extraordinary face. For some reason, his next practiced lines stuck in his throat and for the first time in his life, Eric found himself tongue-tied in front of a girl.
It was she who broke the silence.
“Eric!” she said in a daze.
Chimes, is what Eric heard!
Eric formulated a number of valid responses in his head. But that is exactly where they remained. In his head.
The girl shifted awkwardly on her feet as she waited for Eric to say something, no doubt getting uncomfortable with the lack of response and his steady stare as he looked her up and down.
“You’re Eric Northman. Right? You’ve been here before.” she said in a small voice.
“I… We…I don’t remember you.” Eric stammered, much to his internal chagrin.
Her beautiful blue eyes dipped to the two feet dirt patch between them. Eric cursed himself for his idiotic response that embarressed her even more than she already was. He could just have poilitely introduced himself again and then asked her name, not insinuate that he knew her and then forgot.
“Ummm, you knew my brother. Jason Stackhouse?” she looked up to him, with a look in her eyes that wiped out Eric’s thought process again. She looked at him like he was important; to her and to the world. Eric was not used to seeing that in people’s eyes. “I think you knew him and his friends back then, when you came through here, three years ago. I saw-”
“I’m sorry, do you work here?” He interrupted her in the middle of her awkward rant, kicking himself afterwards for coming up with an even more lame thing to say to her than that ‘don’t remember’ shit.
“Uhh yes I do.” she smiled brightly, pointing at her work T-shirt, with ‘Merlotte’s’ stamped in a corner. “My name is Sookie Stackhouse. Nice to meet’cha!” she adds, bobbing on her feet.
Stackhouse? Sookie Stackhouse!
“Un-fucking-believable!” Eric mumbled, marveling at his luck. “Sookie Stackhouse! Jason Stackhouse’s younger sister. You live at the edge of the bayou, don’t you?”
The hopeful, adoring glint returned to the girl’s eyes and her smile widened.
“You do remember me then” she said shyly, “We didn’t meet when you came last time. But I knew you. Hell! The whole town knew you. You’re quite the legend in these parts, ya’know?”
“I wouldn’t say that exactly.” he grinned back and stuck out a hand for her to shake. “But…It is nice to finally meet you Miss Stackhouse.”
“Oh pl-”
“BREAK’S OVER!!!” Someone yelled from inside, cutting Sookie off.
Another girl, who’d been smoking by the door, snuffed it out and hurried inside. Eric withdrew his hand and thought about plotting to kill the mofo who just yelled. Sookie looked towards the back door and then turned to Eric again.
“When does your shift end?” Eric asked, “Can you meet me afterwards? I think I need your help with something.”
Sookie couldn’t believe her ears. Words failed her.
‘Was this how pipe-dreams came true?’ She thought.
“Will you?” Eric asked again.
“Oh what the hell! No, Eric.” She shook her head, “I won’t meet you afterwards.”
Eric’s face fell.
“I mean…I can leave here right now. If that’s alright with you?” she chuckled.
“That, would be fucking perfect!” Eric replied, surprised but extremely pleased at her response.
“So? What help were you needing from me?” Sookie asked, resuming the bouncing on her feet.
“I am surveying some land around the bayou; exploring some myths and folklore. Near the back of your house actually. Shall we?” he gestured towards his car and Sookie started walking with him.
“Don’t you have to tell someone you are leaving?” Eric inquired, trying to be polite and considerate. Plus, it wouldn’t do if she inexplicably disappeared after having being seen with him.
“Oh no. I was not working today. Just came here out of boredom.” she shrugged, trying to suppress the crazy smile that threatened to ruin her poise any moment.
They reached the car and Sookie hesitated by the door.
“What?” Eric cocked an eyebrow.
“Does the top come down?” she smiled.
Part 3
~~
Godric
~~
Godric tapped his flickering flashlight. It gave out a dim pin prick of light and went out completely. Frustrated, he slapped it against a tree.
“Yours not working either?” Eric called out.
“No! Bloody fucker! I put new batteries. It was working in the car.” Godric replied, still trying to catch his breath. It chaffed him that he was getting old enough to get tired from just a ten minute walk in the wild. He took out his frustration on the flashlight.
Eric noticed his mentor tiring out but chose to ignore it for the moment.
“We might have spirit activity around. They can mess with the electronics.” Eric said, looking around at the eerie hanging branches of the swamp forest. They were nearing that spot by the small lake where Eric has seen the man disappear through thin air years ago.
“I know!” Godric huffed, “I taught you that shit! But the EVPs are silent. I don’t think there are spirits around.”
“I can get a kerosene lamp. It won’t flicker.” Sookie supplied helpfully.
The two men, Eric on her front and Godric bringing up the rear, paused to look at her.
“Good thinking kid.” Godric beamed at her.
“But where would you find a kerosene lamp around here?” Eric frowned.
“We had a tree house nearby, Jason and I. We played there when we were kids. We kept camping supplies in it. Jason still goes there, uses it as a hunting hatch. I bet we’ll find a lantern and a can of kerosene there.” she replied, feeling a little proud of herself for being useful at last. When Eric had asked her to accompany them to the lake in the forest for some investigation, she hadn’t paused to consider the why’s of it. She just went along with them, with Eric in particular, on whatever mission they were carrying out. This was the most adventure she had had in years and she wasn’t going to pass up on it.
“Can you find the place in the dark?” Eric asked.
“Of course.” Sookie beamed, “It’s in the same direction we are going right now, a mile or so further. Lemme show you.”
She stomped ahead, with Eric and started moving confidently through the dark underbrush. More easily than either Eric or Godric, much to both the men’s annoyance.
The tree house, at the bank of the lake, was well hidden in a huge tree. Eric or Godric or both, couldn’t have found it on their own. Without waiting for either of the two to catch up, Sookie quickly climbed the ladder and disappeared in the tree above.
Eric’s flashlight flickered and came back up.
He spun around to look at Godric, who in turn was staring in disbelief at his own shining flashlight. Belatedly, Eric also realized that this was the exact spot where the alleged portal was supposed to be.
Years of training and experience as hunters and protectors of the supernatural kicked in for both the men as they stared at each other, having a silent discussion as to what this meant.
“You guys…” Sookie called out from above, “I found kerosene and a lantern. Does any of you have any matches?”
“Let me check in my supplies Sookie. You look up there.” Godric called out, gesturing at Eric to keep silent as he quickly opened his backpack and brought out salt and an EVP monitor. Eric took out more salt from his bag and the two started hurriedly making a circle around the tree that Sookie had gone up to.
“Found them!” Exclaimed the girl from above.
The men completed the circle and jumped to stand out of it. Godric whispered a quick incantation under his breath.
Presently, the girl appeared on top of the ladder, and started climbing down, carefully holding the lantern in the crook of her elbow. The flashlights went dark again. Sookie finished climbing down and turned to look at the two hunters.
In the dark, with just the small lantern to light the area, they couldn’t see her face properly. They could only see the silhouette of her loose hair blowing softly around her face in the mild breeze and hear the light rustling of her white dress. Standing by the tree, on the edge of the lake, with a lantern in her hands, Sookie looked like a lost girl out of a fairy tale.
“Sookie?” Eric whispered.
She turned to look at him.
“Can you see anything strange around you?”
She squinted her eyes and looked around.
“No.” she shook her head when nothing appeared out of the ordinary.
“Look closely…Right by the tree behind you. Hold out your hand and feel the air.” Eric coaxed again.
Sookie took a deep breath and started waving her hand around. There was a crackle of electricity as her hand touched the air of one spot. She froze and poked the area. Her hand went through. She pulled back her hand with a cry of alarm and backed off, till her retreat was cut off by the line of salt on the ground. She looked down in horror and the lamp slipped from her hands.
“Eric…” she called out to him.
Eric looked at her with pity, shoulders slumped, suddenly feeling a weight over his heart he could not explain.
“Is there anything holding you back Sookie?” Eric asked her gently.
A tear rolled down her cheek, but the girl remained silent as she watched the man of her dreams. So near enough to touch; yet so far away behind the salt line.
“Was there a last wish you couldn’t fulfill?” Godric asked her patiently, voice as gentle as Eric’s.
“Eric. I wanted to see Eric.” she said, looking at Eric with longing.
“You have seen him now.” Godric continued, speaking barely above whispers, “You can let go and be at peace.”
“I can’t. I haven’t been able to move over.” she shook her head slightly, tears pouring down her sparkling blue eyes. “Everyone else goes. I can’t cross. Not until now. Not until here…” she added, as she glanced at the crackling air behind her for a second and turned to look at Eric again. “I think I can go through here. This place feels different.”
“Then go Sookie. there’s nothing for you here.” urged Godric.
She looked at Eric. Eric removed his backpack and placed it on the ground. Then, before Godric could stop him, he crossed the salt line and came to stand in front of the torn Sookie. He slowly brought his hands up to her face and gasped when he could touch her. He cupped her cheeks and pressed his lips to her forehead. Sookie closed her eyes and sobbed in relief.
“In another life. In another world…” Eric whispered in her hair, “We’ll find each other again Sookie Stackhouse. We’ll meet again. I know.”
Sookie clutched his wrists with both her hands and leaned to place her forehead against his chest.
“You promise?” she whispered.
Eric leaned back and tilted her face to look deep in her eyes.
“I promise.” he replied.
Sookie nodded, took another deep breath and stepped back from Eric.
“This is a portal to another dimension. It’s called Fairy. I am descended from them.” she said. “That’s all I know.”
“I’ll research Fairy to death.” Eric smiled.
“You do that! Otherwise I’ll have to come back to haunt you!” she teased between sobs.
“I’ll hold you to that!” Eric said softly.
She cast one last look at the man of her dreams.
“Good bye Eric Northman.” she whispered.
“Until we meet again Sookie Stackhouse.” he inclined his head and whispered back.
Sookie blew him a kiss and stepped into the crackling air, instantly vanishing from sight.
Eric darted forward but all he found was air slipping through his fingers.
Empty.
Ordinary.
Silent air.
He closed his eyes and just stood there, trying to come to terms with the new emotion swirling inside him.
“Guess we have another lead then.” Godric called out, “Fairy, did she say?”
“Fairy it was. Lets find what that fucking means old friend.”
“Ah the joys of the chase!” Godric chuckled and hoisted his backpack to leave.
Eric glanced at the place for a moment, then turned to follow his mentor, out of the haunted Bayou.
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by wordpresswhisperer@gmail.com | Jan 6, 2015
‘Till in the stillness of one dawn
Still in its mystic crown
The muse she went down to the lake
And in the waves she drowned
Vampires didn’t dream, that was what many believed but, on the contrary, as you age the more your brain begins to create vivid images while you slept. They weren’t dreams perse but they were memories twisted by unknown reasons or things.
And even though I am not old enough to dream, to find myself on the blackened shore I swore I would never step foot on again, my maker was. We had a very close bond, one that cannot be removed by another or careless words unless he wanted it to go nor could it be replicated by another.
And right now, on this very shore, on this very night I had wished oh so much the bond wasn’t strong. It was not a night I wished to remember, even when I found myself running towards the water, my sword clapping at my side.
“ISABELL!” I scream the words overlayed with that of my makers.
Godric, wake up my maker, fade, broder! I yell in my mind, across the bond as my eyes lock on the pale face of my sister.
Her eyes wide and full of terror as she reached out to me, her skin pale as the creature dragged her into the middle of the lake. I could not go, I was still weak from not feeding and she was still human. I had failed her, we had failed her and…
Erik…Erik… Godric… My Broder … My love…
I was no longer in the water on that night but on the shore once more, Godric on his knees by myside as fog crept up from the water’s edge swiftly, silently as it curled around us. A light shone in the middle of the lake and grew closer, revealing a figure in white.
I too fell to my knees as I saw the woman, even though I could not see her face I knew, I knew it was my sister… Isabell.
“Isa…” Godric breathes pained, reaching out to the woman. I watched as her face twisted, twisted in a way that all kindness was gone and in its place was wrath.
You left me… you did this!
YOU DID THIS!
YOU DID THIS TO ME!
I shot up quickly, shattering the coffin as I let out a roar of pain. Pam by my side instantly, concern marring her features.
My sisters parting words echoing in my head… parting words that dripped with so much hate and malice that I had not ever heard uttered from her lips.
“What is it?” Pam asks as I remove myself from the debris and gather my things. I needed to make a trip to Texas, I knew that those words uttered were not of Isabell but of Godric’s guilt, he had never forgiven himself for her death, for not being there in time to save her. I knew that in a way he had made Isabell hate him to make it more bearable, to convince himself of the monster he claimed to be.
“I need to go to Texas, my maker needs me. You are in charge until I get back, I do not know how long I will be but it will be a while. I will contact you if I need anything.” I inform my childe, my hand stilling for a second on my sword that rested on my office wall.
“What has happened?” She demands causing a harsh growl to escape my lips.
“I have no time for your questions Pamela! My maker needs me and I will go, it is a family matter!” I snarl, not bothering to care when I saw her flinch. She may be my childe, but she was not family, no Isabell and Godric are my family and there was now only two of the three.
As soon as I reached outside I took off into the air, flying was faster than running or driving and it was a matter of importance that I get there quickly. I could feel my makers despair, feel his grief and rage. It was all consuming and I could not break through that barrier of guilt that contained it all.
“Eric, you arrived; he is destroying everything in his path and no one can reach him. Two have tried and two have died.” Isabel explains her voice tight in worry.
I cast her a quick glance, I couldn’t look at the woman couldn’t bring myself to say her name in greeting. Her name so similar to Isabell and I knew that she was a form of torture to my maker that he kept close as a punishment. In name only, she looked nothing like my sister.
“We don’t know what the problem is, he went to rest and then the whole house shook with his snarl.” Stan drawls off the side as I reached the steps.
“I know what the problem is. I will deal with it; one of you will need to be in charge while I take Godric away from here. We have a place to seek and I know not of when we will come back or if we will at all.” I utter in a sigh before making my way towards my maker. The anguish in his emotions was not something I could ever forget, nor could the resignation and determination before the bond was completely shut.
“Godric, come we are to leave.” I utter urgently, not daring to raise my voice to my maker. He was one of the ancients in our kind and no one dared to cross him. Even I.
“You dare demand me?” He hisses, all sense of his humanity gone and in its place was Death.
“No, but it is time we return to her. Return to the lake.” I utter ever so softly, thanking the gods that my voice did not waiver.
His eyes snapped to mine and it took everything within me not to flinch at the dark abysses, but it wasn’t in fear of the darkness, no, it was the emotion that struck me. Agony, suffering… I knew instantly he had intended not to live another day without his love, his Isa.
“Come Godric, one last time and then… then… I will not stop you.” I gasp out as a tear spilled over and down my cheek. I could see the shock before it was masked, his back straightening before jerking his head in a nod.
He didn’t bother with a bag unlike I, but I knew at some point I would be returning home by myself. Home, there was no home anymore; there hasn’t been a home since that night. I let a sigh escape as I cast a look at the wall above the fireplace to see the painting of Isabell that Godric had commissioned not long before she died.
It was also then that Godric had lost control, killing all the creatures that took her and killed her. He couldn’t find the one that did, none would tell him who or if they did it. We only knew it was of Mermaid decent, the webbed hand leaving marks as it clawed her into the water and under the dark abys.
“Eric.” My body jerked as the command took me, jerking me back from the dark memory.
I took one last look at my sister’s face before making my way to Godric’s side, ignoring the looks his nest members gave us. We took to the sky the instant our feet hit the grass, making our way towards the lake that… that my sister perished. It was instinct almost, the way was always ingrained into our mind; the compass arrow directing us. Though, we moved towards the sunrise; the lake near my own home or where it would have been.
Images – no – memories flashed across my vision of her face, her face twisted into fear as she reached out to me, my name and Godric’s pouring from her lips in a plea for help. I couldn’t move that night, my body heavy with starvation while my chest ached with Godric’s crushing fear and anger. He was too far out and by the time he had arrived it was too late. She was gone, forever lost under the darkness of the lake.
I stumbled slightly, landing on my knee as soon as my feet touched the ground in my distracted state. My eyes locked onto the greyish sand, the smell of forest and water invading my senses with a hint of honey and lavender.
“It still smells like her.” I whisper shocked, confused.
It shouldn’t smell like her… There should be no scent of her here. It has been near a thousand years since she had been on the shores of this lake and yet I can smell her in the sand, coming from the wind of the water as if she was here a mere day a go.
“I can smell her.” Godric whispers, drawing my eyes to him.
His face was pained as he heavily breathed in the scent, but it was his eyes and the bond that drew my attention the most. They were wide and locked onto the lake, confusion and disbelief swirling through the bond swiftly changing from one to another.
Broder…
My head shot up with the voice that travelled with the wind, how could it be that she was still here… still alive?
“I hear her.” I utter amazed causing my maker to choke slightly, something he had never done before.
“And I see her.” He replies strained before moving towards the water’s edge. “I see you.”
I stood ramrod straight, my eyes locked onto the figure that seemed to dance across the waters top. It couldn’t be her, even against the harsh light of the lantern the figure held, I could see the white dress she had died in. But it could be a ruse, one that I would not let my maker go to and perish in the same way as my sister.
Meeting the sun was one thing to our kind… The sensation of drowning on the other…
“Godric, it cannot be her. It must be a ruse, a trick!” I state, pleading with him to step away from the water’s edge.
Broder…
“YOU ARE NOT HER! YOU WILL NOT HAVE HIM TOO!” I roar at the figure as it stops near my maker.
Even with lightening sky I could still not see the sirens face against the harsh light of the lantern.
“It is time.” I froze, my eyes locking onto the woman instantly, the voice was the same; no it couldn’t be. “You have kept me waiting my love, many years I have walked this water’s edge waiting for you… you promised to come back to me. Come, all will be well.”
“Isabell…” Godric breathed as he reached out to the siren’s waiting hand.
“You can join us my broder, walk the afterlife’s waters with me.” She whispers before the lantern’s light dimmed and I was staring into the face of my sister. “I waited so long to see you both, you kept me waiting for a long time.”
“I… I am sorry…” I choke out, quickly stepping to her side and grasping the hand that held the lantern.
“What… How?” I managed to get out as it finally set in.
“I am the guide to Valhalla; Freyja saved me that night when the mermaid took me.” She whispers, pulling us towards the middle of the lake.
“Will you join me in the afterlife? To walk the shores of Valhalla forever by my side?” She asks softly as the sun began to rise.
“Yes, I am ready.” Godric answered, his eyes never leaving her face while mine darted to the sky.
I am sorry Pamela, I release you…
With that, I turn to my sister and nod, closing my eyes as the sun’s rays peaked over the tree tops. One last sunrise.
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by wordpresswhisperer@gmail.com | Jan 5, 2015
Link to site: https://kinnik7104.wordpress.com/
A/N – I do not own the Southern Vampire Mysteries, True Blood or the characters therein. They belong to Charlaine Harris, Alan Ball and HBO. This is a work of fiction and no copyright infringement is intended. I’m sure you all know this or most of it, but here are a few reminders, just in case.
Faðir/Far – father/Dad; Bróðir – brother; Toor – pronounced Thor; Móðir/Mor – mother/Mom; Systir – sister; Dréag – apparition; Kot – cot
Happy Reading!
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The raids were always successful. Together with my faðir and bróðir, Toor, we made it so. They had taught me well how to be an adept soldier and sailor. I had never seen a loss to our family, on the battlefield, nor had I been wounded. Though, we lost many men to the sea and from wounds that could not be healed, we had been fortunate. To be buried, in our tradition, is a great honor as you set sail to Valhalla and the Valkyries come to claim you.
I had been raiding since my thirteenth winter and never grew tired of the battles that gave us spoils providing for my village. When I left for my first incursion, in what would later be known as the year 919 a.d., I was not scared as my móðir had feared, but excited that I was finally seen as a man in faðir’s eyes. Upon our return, I was given a feast for my first success and regarded as a great warrior afterward.
Many seasons later, I was left behind to assist Mor caring for our home and livestock. It was an exceptionally bad winter and there were few men left to help the women, children, and animals survive. As one of the strongest, and the son of the chieftain, it was left to me to defend the village.
That raid would be the final trip for my bróðir. The enemy clan had taken his body as a prize to display as a warning to others. He had been next in line to become the chieftain of our village. Far returned alone and my family grieved together over Toor’s death and the fact that his body had not returned to hold a funeral. Far said he was growing too old to continue the raids, but I believed it was due to our great loss that he chose to remain at our home with Mor. I carried much guilt as I knew, had I been there, I could have saved him, but Mor told me it was likely that I, too, would have been killed.
It was from that guilt and sense of duty that I married my bróðir’s wife, Aude, who bore my children as she had carried three of Toor’s. I refused to miss another raid and became fiercer in my fighting. She died giving birth to our third child while I was away, taking the child with her in death. Aude had been a strong woman and good companion, but I did not love her as my parents loved each other. Still, I grieved my loss. I left the children in the care of her family. It was a good decision.
The final night of my parent’s lives and that of my new infant sibling, I was outside, with a handmaiden, when I heard the screams of Mor and the sound of Far’s sword being unsheathed. Drawing my sword, I entered the Longhouse and saw my móðir and systir, covered in blood, dead. I was too late. My faðir was lying on the floor resisting death and I made a promise to him. I would exact vengeance on those who had now made me chieftain. He died in my arms. I turned to the door to face my enemy. It was then that I saw a lone figure in a cloak, calling to the wolves which killed my family, holding my faðir’s crown.
I returned to the sea once again, this time in fury. Never again would I suffer such loss! Never again would I be so vulnerable and careless! I would be vigilant and ruthless to protect what was MINE!
>>>>><<<<<
It was during one of these journeys that I first saw her. We were traveling in a large ship, able to hold vast amounts of cargo, with space for the men below, when it happened. It was my twentieth winter. It was quiet, the moon was high and alone I stood on the deck. Looking at the sea, planning our next foray, I heard a woman’s voice whispering my name. “Eiríkr,” she sang in the wind. “Eiríkr see me. Look for me, Eiríkr,” My eyes searched the sea, not knowing from which direction the voice came. At last, to my disbelief, I saw a woman standing on the water. She was far away, but I could distinguish the outline of her body. As if sensing I had found her, she came closer. I had not seen her move. She was holding a lantern illuminating long chestnut hair and the white gown she wore. Though, I could not see her face, I knew she was watching me. She was youthful and angelic. I closed my eyes and shook my head to dispel the vision. It was not possible this phantom was real. Months at sea can be brutal to your body and psyche. I knew this to be true. Men had gone mad during our long trips at sea. My stubborn nature did not believe it could happen to me.
“Open your eyes, Viking. Do not doubt what is in front of you,”
Instead, I took a step back turning away. I refused to look again at this insanity that had taken hold of my mind. I felt a huge wave of water crash over the board and was knocked to the deck, hitting my head, rendering me unconscious. I awoke some hours later in the dark, stood on shaky legs, and walked to the board to steady myself. I looked over the water and found nothing.
I did not tell my shipmates what I had seen that night. I did not believe it myself.
One season, and several raids, later I was on the deck again. I had pushed the memory from mind. When it was quiet on the ship, and the moon was high, I saw her again. She appeared much closer than before and again I felt her eyes watching me. She did not speak this time, but seemed to float alongside the ship as we traveled. I watched her for hours until I heard the noise of a sail shifting that took my attention. When I turned back, she was gone. I stood on the deck and watched the water until the sun rose on the horizon.
Again, I could not bring myself to tell my crew. I was clearly hallucinating and did not want to risk anyone knowing for fear that I would be locked below as others had been, in the past, when they began to have visions of things that were not real.
>>>>>><<<<<
Another season passed before I felt compelled to stand on the deck again. She appeared as I, somehow, knew she would. She floated alongside the ship watching.
“Do you believe now, Eiríkr?” her whisper sang to me.
“Am I mad?”
“No. You are finally seeing,”
“I see you, but I know you are not real. How do you compel me to be here?”
“I have not compelled you,”
“I am drawn to this place when you are here,”
“I am always here. Always, I am watching. You choose not to see, but your mind has decided it cannot wait any longer to know,”
“What is it that I am to know, dréag? My mind has decided nothing, but that you are haunting me!”
“I am no phantom, this you know,”
“I know nothing of you, siren!”
“Calm yourself young one, you must believe, to be given my gift,”
“I want no gift of yours. I will not entertain your presence any longer!”
“Then you are not ready. I will return only once more. Think on it, childe, you must believe to know. When the moon is high tomorrow night, seek me out…”
She was gone.
My mind struggled throughout the remainder of the night. I stared at the water. I paced along the deck. I willed her to return. I wanted to know of the gift. I wanted to know what was happening to me. Was this magic? Who was this woman? Was she a woman? Was I cursed? Was she a hex sent by my enemy to distract me? Was this real? Was she real? Why does she not show her face? What did she want with me? Did she want to draw me to the water and drown me? How many had she lured this way? So many questions went unanswered. So many questions I had not asked, in my haste.
I lay on my kot of furs and prayed to all the deities to protect me from her bewitching, when exhaustion, finally, called me to sleep. I slept the day and did not dream. My men thought I had taken ill and left me to rest.
I woke when the moon was high. I knew she would be waiting. What would this spirit do to me? She had already taken my sanity. I was afraid. I had never been afraid. I could fight a hundred men, yet now, I was vexed by a woman, if that is what she truly was. I refused to have fear of this creature!
I was feared not fearful!
I donned by sword and climbed from my resting place. I squared my shoulders and rose to my full height. I was tall, very tall. I would not be tormented by her any longer! She would see who I am! She would cower in fear at my strength and my size!
When I reached the deck, she was there, looking to the sea. Her lantern was gone. Lit by the moon, her gown and hair were wafting in the breeze. She was smaller and frailer than I had thought her to be.
“Do you believe now, Eiríkr?” she asked as she had the night before.
“Yes. I believe you are real, though, I do not know how you came to be,”
“All that matters is I am here. Are you ready to know?”
“Yes. I am not afraid,” I stood to my full 6’4” frame.
“Yes, you are,”
I trembled at her words, though, I gave no sign of weakness. This was not supposed to happen. She was trying to take control. That would not pass. I would not allow it. She should be afraid and trembling! I was a warrior! Who was she to speak to me this way? She would be the one to know who was at the helm.
“Tell me what you want of me so we can be done with this!” I bellowed.
“Beware your tongue, childe,” she warned with a voice of authority.
“I am no childe! I have twenty winters! I am the son of a chieftain! You will give me deference!”
She laughed at that. Her laughter was like a trickling brook. It angered me.
“I am not as I appear. You will see,”
“Do not speak in riddles to me,”
“You will hear me, you will see, and you will know,” she sang.
“I will hear the truth!” I yelled.
She turned and grabbed my wrist. Her skin was pale, her hand as cold as ice, and her voice was just as cold. Viciously, she scolded me.
“YOU WILL HEAR ME, VIKING, AND YOU WILL LISTEN WELL!!”
I cowered at that and felt the fear creep up my spine.
“I am sorry.” I said quietly. I was whimpering, but I did not care.
“Are you prepared to receive my gift?”
“I fear it, but I am ready,”
“It is good to, finally, admit your fear. Your barriers have broken. You are ready,”
She continued to hold my wrist and took the other, her grip tightening. As I stared at her, afraid to look away, her hair began to change color until it was gray and white. She lifted her face to mine for the first time. Her eyes were covered in a milky glaze and her face grew deep lines as I watched. She was old, so very old. She had aged 90 winters before my eyes. The sight of her brought me to my knees.
She knelt down to look at me with her white, filmy, frightening, eyes. As if reading my mind, she said,
“I am more than 90 winters, childe. Now you can see. Now you are ready to receive my gift. It does not come without a price,”
I was mesmerized and horrified by what I had seen.
“What is the cost?” I whispered.
“You will meet death and life this day. Choose wisely,”
“You speak more riddles. Gods, I beg you, speak plainly!”
In an instant, faster than I could track, she stood and released my wrists. Her tiny frame towered over mine. She put a hand to each side of my head. Leaning down, an inch from my face, her eyes bore into mine. She spoke slowly, low, and ferociously.
“I am the Ancient Pythoness! I give you a gift of your fate and you dare defy me! It is to me that YOU will give reverence!”
I bowed my head and nodded, but spoke no more.
“No Valkyries will come. There is no Valhalla, not for you, for you will not be welcome. You will be forgotten, as others before and after,”
She stepped back to look at me once more.
I could not believe what I was hearing. Her riddles made no sense. I had fought valiantly. I served and protected my village and my people. I had led them in battles. I had led them in all things. I was respected. Surely, I would be welcomed into Valhalla. I was a warrior. I was a Viking. I would be with my family again. I would NOT be forgotten. She did not know the future. She was the one who was mad.
“I do and I am not. Neither are you, young Eiríkr. There are many futures to be seen. You must choose,”
I dared not speak again. I had no words to answer. I simply looked at her. She gazed at me in kindness then, smiling, and spoke to me as if I understood, yet she was not done.
“When no less than one thousand winters have passed, you will find your soul again. You will know I speak true,”
Then, she was gone. I heard her voice in the wind one last time.
“Farewell, Viking. We will meet again, in my time and in yours. You will pay your boon to me,”
I would prove her wrong.
>>>>><<<<<
The raid turned to battle before we reached the village. The clan we fought had known of Toor’s death, those years ago, and knew I had taken the place of my faðir. They had chosen to believe I was weak and would fall as my bróðir had. They were wrong. I would not be bested, not by them, not by anyone. The she-devil had lied. No one could match me. We lost many men, but I fought fiercely and well. The enemy had been strong, yet in the end, they were defeated. We overtook their forces and gained our victory.
During our celebration that night, I collapsed to the ground. My men rushed to my aid and found I had been pricked by a sword. It was a minor injury, at best. I had not felt it, as I ran my enemy through, in my thirst for victory. He had sliced my arm as he fell. I knew in that moment, his weapon was tainted. This was a coward’s way. In that night, many men succumbed to the poison. Only two remained with me. I grew paler and fought my death as it tried to take me. I begged them to take their leave and return home to tell the tale. They would not leave my side. They carried me from the battlefield and helped me rest on a bed of straw. They said they would stay until I passed into Valhalla. I wondered if I would. She had said I would meet death this day and she was right. It was my last thought as I fell unconscious.
>>>>><<<<<
When I woke, I turned my head and saw them by the fire. My men were dead, their lifeless bodies in pieces. It was then I heard the beast growling in the dark. In an instant, death was on me. It was a boy, no more than sixteen winters old, and he had slain my remaining friends. His mouth was covered in their blood. I looked to him, with blurred vision, and told him I was ready for him to take me to Valhalla.
He laughed heartily and stared into my eyes.
“I could take you. You would go to your Valhalla. I do not believe in such a place, but I watched you fight in the end. You are strong and worthy,”
“I do not understand. If I am worthy, why do you hesitate?”
“You must choose,”
“What choices do I have?”
“Choose death in this life or life in your death,”
By the Gods, even at my point of death, I am spoken to in riddles! I did not comprehend his meaning, but I made my choice.
“Life” I whispered.
“It does not come without a price,”
“What will be my debt?”
“You will walk the night with me. I am Godric the Gaul. You will live in darkness, but you WILL live. This will fulfill your boon to me,”
“I care not how it may pass. I choose life.”
The boy bent to me and opened his mouth, like a snake ready to strike. He pierced my skin, and sucked out my soul, with his massive teeth.
>>>>>>>>>>
That is the last I can remember of my human life. I woke three days later to begin a new journey. I could not return to my village and in time, I knew I would be forgotten.
I am Eiríkr the Norseman. In this new life, I will find the Ancient Pythoness. I will avenge my faðir and in not less than a thousand years I will find my soul again.
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by wordpresswhisperer@gmail.com | Jan 4, 2015
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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