A short story from the Darch Angel series…
The new moon shone bright in the night sky amidst the stars that crowded in its glory. It was a beauty that typically went unnoticed in the city that never sleeps. The sky above displayed its majesty as the city below buzzed, bustled, and hustled in a trance.
Standing on her tippy toes with a slight smile on her face, the young child stared down from the tall building’s rooftop at the heavens below. A dark hooded figure, camouflaged by his all-black attire that clothed his muscular form, stood behind her. He swiftly scooped her up and threw her on his broad shoulders, instantly giving her a fuller view of the city humming below. He shifted his feet to balance her perfectly. Nine years old – she was heavier now, but still a petite little thing. But, she was getting older – a fact that he’d yet come to terms with.
“The excitement is below, but the real wonder is in the sky, Butterfly,” he said. “The Elders used to say that, on a full moon, Mother Selene grants her favored children the gift of a Blood Rising allowing them to restore a loved one lost back to this realm.”
Her father formed a slight smile. He knew how much the mystical stories of the Elders excited her. The Blood Rising myth. If only it were true. How he wished it were true. He’d find a way to bring back her mother who perished during The Great Pyre. The child reminded him so much of her – beautiful and tenacious.
The child shifted on his shoulders and asked. “But, how will you know if Mother Selene favors you?”
Her question stung like an accusation. Her tone was demanding. Now, a year older, she didn’t simply accept his wisdom. She challenged it.
He sighed. “The truth is there’s no way to really know beforehand if you are favored by her, Butterfly.” Butterfly. That’s what he called her. To him, she represented transformation, beauty, and hope. “Mother Selene works in very mysterious ways. Not even the Elders fully understood her powers.”
The harsh reality was that he was now the Elder and his knowledge was even more limited.
“I will gain her favor,” she said affirmatively. “And bring mom back to us.”
He smiled. “There’s no doubt in my mind. If you believe it, Butterfly, so do I.”
Together, they watched the city move and glow below. People hopping from the street into cabs, twenty-somethings dressed in club attire staggered the sidewalk. A stockbroker dressed in a suit lit up a cigarette. They both inhaled the city’s aroma deeply. It was a world they could no longer be a part of. But they could watch. They could wait.
“Papa,” she said, placing her chin on top his head. “Tonight, I want to lead the hunt.”
Gerum blinked. The request came as a total shock. Grabbing her by the waist, he hoisted her down. He took a knee and removed his hood, so he could look her in the eyes.
He shook his head. “Butterfly, I cannot permit this,” he spoke softly to let her down easy. “You are far too small to—”
“I am not small,” she retorted. “You told me you had your first kill when you were five years old.”
Gerum grunted. “That is different.” He raised his voice slightly.
“How is it different?” she asked, folding her arms.
“I am a male of the Warrior class,” he explained. “And that was during a time when our race thrived and our coven was at the height of its glory.”
The child tilted her head. “Am I not of your blood?” she asked, her fangs showing all the more prominent. “A Warrior from the House of Neser?”
Gerum swallowed. She had a point, a very valid one. He knew he was partially to blame for her defiance. He placed his hands on her shoulders.
“Kaia,” he shook his head. “You are far too valuable to lead an insignificant hunt.”
“Then, why have you trained me, Papa?”
“So that, when you are ready, you can hunt and kill effectively.”
She lifted her chin. “I am ready now—”
“No,” his reply was harsh this time. “I forbid it. Kaia, the covenant between humans and the Nosferatu exists no more. We are the last of our kind. If there is any hope for our survival, we must remain in the shadows.”
He reached out with his massive hand and wiped the single tear that fell down her cheek. He knew this all too well. It was a tear not of sadness, but of anger.
“Kaia, listen to me,” he spoke softly again. “Your first kill will be…messy. Loud. But to survive in this new world, you must be precise, swift, and gentle to your prey. They can never see it coming and you must minimize their suffering. That is the way, Kaia. At least, it is for now.”
TO BE CONTINUED…
Ronaldo Gilley 