Byron

In the days that passed as they followed the heron, Byron reminisced over his brief time as a mortal. He’d lived longer as a vampire, but the memories of when he was alive were greater than those after. Was it human frailty which caused this? Did the fear of death magnify each moment in time, to such a degree, a few seconds of thought would seem so profound centuries later?

He watched the rest of the party go about their affairs with an urgency he no longer possessed. Saw Doc and Sven fight over going in the opposite direction of their friends, Lena and Holga. No matter how certain they were of the other witches’ deaths, a part of them couldn’t resolve their uncertainty.

Deep down, Byron suspected they could be alive. Vic had to have a source of blood in Blueskin territory after all. But it would be suicide for them to attempt a rescue. The group would stick out if for no other reason than the horse.

He watched Rory’s gaze linger on the farmhouse as they passed. There was an almost tangible darkness in her expression. He wanted to talk more with her about that night, even if he’d agreed to pretend it never happened. But she’d glued herself to Nadine. Once in a while, she’d steal a look, but nothing more. He could just shake her until she came clean with whether she had feelings for him. Where was this sudden urgency coming from on his part?

Sure, the look of her was appealing. He was a sucker for honey brown locks, tan skin and a subversive smile. And he admired that she wasn’t a pushover. She could take care of herself and she wasn’t afraid to ask for a hand when she needed one either.

But…

Did he like her? Hell, was he in love with her?

* * *

Medium-sized apple trees lined both sides of the narrow stretch of land. Nadine attempted to use her power to revitalize one, but it was too far gone or something blocked her from making contact. All Byron knew was that her face took on a deathly pallor when she finished. Rory tried to comfort her, but to no effect.

“Not now,” Nadine said and pressed her palm against her forehead. “I’ve got the worst headache ever. Think I need to lie down.”

Rory attempted to grip her friend’s arm and missed. “Let me get you something. I’m sure Sven has stuff.”

“Ugh, no thanks.” Nadine slipped into her bedroll and pulled a pillow over her face.

“Well, fine.”

Byron strode up. Finally, a minute alone, he thought. “Hey, I feel like you’ve been avoiding me.”

Rory crossed her arms. “What if I am?”

“Well, that forces one to ask the question: why?” His reply hung in the air. If crickets still existed, they’d chirp at a time like this.

Finally, she sighed. “It’s complicated.”

“What, I’m a vampire and you think I’m going to kill you? Your friends?”

“Look, I don’t think you’d ever willingly hurt me or people I care about. But the fact remains, you need to hurt someone to survive.”

Byron stooped to the ground and sat cross-legged. “Yeah... You know you look pretty when you’re angry.”

Her eyes widened, and she placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not angry.”

“Could have fooled me.”

She sat facing him and hugged her knees. “It’s not that I don’t want…”

He waited for her to finish, but as seconds passed into minutes, he groaned in agitation. “This conversation is going to take forever if you don’t finish your thoughts.”

“Maybe that’s why I’m avoiding you—I don’t trust myself to finish my thoughts.”

He chuckled. “About the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

She stuck her chin out, and said, “If you’re trying to make me upset so I look more pretty to you—it’s not going to work.”

“You sure about that? Looks like it did.”

A frustrated gasp slipped from her mouth. “This is nothing. Maybe I give a shit about you. Like a real big amount of shits. But it doesn’t change anything.”

He frowned. “I just don’t understand your angst.”

“Do you remember the first time we ever met? Not in this time, but before. No matter what happens, that image of you is burned in my mind. I just don’t know how we could go any further unless you could quit being a vampire?”

“Stake through the heart might do it. Last time I checked Sven was building a small stockpile. Might want to see if he’ll loan you one.”

“Well, that hardly solves the problem,” she said and snorted. “I want you around—just a little more alive.”

“So, all I have to do is something entirely impossible and then you will gladly take my hand? Glad we solved that.”

She held up her hands in exasperation. “And now you understand. Do you really want me flinching every time you touch my neck?”

“No, I don’t want that. But, going back to what you said about that night so long ago, I could make you forget. Anyone tell you about the glamour?”

“Sven mentioned it in passing, but he always lies—well, he doesn’t always lie. Still…”

“Look, I don’t know why I brought it up. It’s not even something I like to do. Guess I’d just like to work this out with you by any means possible. It’s been a long time since I’ve even felt anything. Truth be told, I didn’t even know if I liked you at first. After that night in the farmhouse… Well, I’m having a hard time doing as you asked and forgetting it ever happened. It’s been far too long since I danced like that.”

“Me too,” she said and blushed. “Forgetting, I mean. And I’m not saying I can’t change in time. But it’s all a lot to take in. You know? Sure, it happened hundreds of years ago for you, but it was only a few days ago for me.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

He nodded. “It’s easy for me to forget you’ve only been here for a short time.”

“What happens if we get together anyways? It’s a one-night thing, and then you’re gone? Or we stick together and in forty years when I’m old, you don’t want me anymore. For someone that’s lived as long as you, wouldn’t that be about the same as a one-night stand?”

“Didn’t think about it like that. Being around you and your friends has reminded me how urgent people are. Got to rush, rush, rush to get everything done before you all die, eh? While years go by like days for me.”

“Am I really what you’re looking for? Be honest. I’ll know if you’re lying to me.”

“I don’t know.”

She frowned. “Don’t you?”

His shoulders slouched. “The game had been surviving for so long. I kind of mastered that, but then what was the point? Twenty-seven forever. Feeding off lives that aren’t your own. Never feeling. Never growing.” His eyes bore into hers and he spread out his arms. “You know, I saw you shortly after you arrived.” He fished in his pocket, pulled out her nametag and handed it to her. “And I felt something. Which was uncomfortable. Not bad uncomfortable, just not used to it uncomfortable. If that makes any sense.”

Tears welled in her eyes as she turned the little piece of plastic over in her hands. She bit her lip and her mouth attempted to form words. “I… For luck.” she said and placed it back in his palm, closing his fingers around it. “So, what now?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but the world is kind of a mess right now. I remember pretty well when it wasn’t. In some ways, I remember the good old days better than yesterday….”

“So how about this?” Rory searched his eyes and said, “We both feel things we’re not comfortable with—for our own reasons—and neither of us knows where we’re going from here. Instead of obsessing, how about we just see where things go?”

“Sounds good to me.”

* * *

Doc glared at Byron as he returned with Rory. There was an unexpected note of malice in the glance. Does he have feelings for Rory? Why wouldn’t he? He wondered if Rory had feelings for Doc too. Perhaps some reservations she didn’t express in their talk had to do with the giant of a man. He put the thought aside. No reason to make more out of a look than it’s worth.

From the palpable change in the air, they had to be close to the tip of the strait. He wondered if the others felt it too, or if it was his overactive vampire senses. Nadine emerged from her bedroll looking like death itself, and the party finished packing the cart.

“Come sit up here with me, Dini,” Sven said and motioned to a spot on the front bench. Nadine complied, and he hugged her to his side.

She wrinkled her nose and said, “You stink, Sven.”

“Well, you don’t hear me complaining about you, do ya love?”

“Argh.” She swatted at his hand.

“Hey now, don’t hit me. I’ve got to drive the cart.”

“Yeah right. How many times have you nodded off in this trip, huh? I think Betts is the horse and driver here.”

Billie pushed himself between the pair and said, “Betts sure is a strange name for a boy.”

“What do you mean, mate?”

“Isn’t Betts a girl’s name?”

“Named her after the Queen mum herself.”

Billie tried to speak, but couldn’t make words through his giggles.

“I don’t know what’s so funny. You’re the one who’s been having a gander at Ol’ Betts undercarriage. What’s wrong with ya?”

Doc exhaled sharply. “Boys. Let’s spare the lesson in anatomy. There are women present.” And he looked from Rory to Nadine.

The women said almost in chorus, “Whatever.”

Nadine said, “I’ve seen plenty of those in my day. But yes, Billie brings up a good point.”

Sven shot her a hurt look and said, “Thought you were on my side.”

“It’s fine, dear. We’ve all got our blindsides.”

* * *

They traveled down the road until the ash-filtered sunlight grew dim. The ever-present heron who had mostly made pace with the group flew to the front. It landed and spread its wings as if signaling for them to stop. Outside the cart, the craggy tip of the strait came into view. Sharp, volcanic rocks lined the shore and Byron wondered if a dormant fissure lay under the water.

Sven hocked and spat. “‘Follow the bird,’ they said. ‘It will get us somewhere,’ they said.”

“Give her a minute,” Nadine said, and shushed him with a finger.

The bird took wing again and hovered at eye level for a few seconds. With one big push it flew straight up and circled faster and faster until it blurred into a circle. Then it fell as if shot to the ground. On knobby knees, it took one step, then two and three and arced its head back. The bird plunged its beak into the air and a gash formed where it stabbed. The tear shone with the radiance of the sun, and Byron leaped in avoidance. He sheltered himself behind the enormous figure of Doc and checked himself for burns. No injuries. All good.

He looked up at the other members of the group as they stood transfixed. A droplet fell down Rory’s cheek, and she said, “It’s beautiful.” She looked down at Byron and forced her hand into his. “It can’t hurt you, I don’t think. Look.”

Upon standing, he found the translucent figure of a woman clothed only in radiant white light. Her hands gestured in broad sweeps and she spoke in indecipherable words. A star formed inside her palm and grew ever larger. A groan passed from her lips and the intonation buzzed through the ground and into Byron’s feet, shaking his whole body with its echo. Just when he couldn’t take the sensation a moment longer, the star exploded and everything washed out in its brilliance.

Everything was white, but a gentle breeze played across his skin. Formless ground molded into a pristine meadow sprinkled with floating butterflies and brightly colored wildflowers. The sun warmed his flesh, but it didn’t burn him and he wondered if he was dead. But he didn’t think so after he saw the others joined him in this heaven—or whatever it was. Each lay sprawled roughly in the same locations they’d been before the scene changed.

A healthy hue warmed Nadine’s face. She stood and spun with her arms stretched out. “I can hear you. I love you all too,” she said.

Deflated, Rory looked around her with weary eyes. “Great. Another portal.”

Sven checked his pockets and sighed. “Really can take it with ya.” He kissed his flask and drained what should have been the entire contents down his throat. By some miracle, it never seemed to empty.

Doc shook his head at him, stood to his full height and crossed his arms. “Put it away. We need to keep our wits about us.”

Sven flicked him a V-sign and took one last pull from the flask before returning it to his pocket.

And Billie, well, he just rolled around and round in the grass, giggling like he’d heard the best joke.

“Rise up,” a voice said. On further inspection, it belonged to the translucent woman at the tear. As Byron looked on, her flesh colored and she solidified. She stood stooped over, supported by a cobalt staff and attired in a simple peasant’s dress with a deep, maroon shawl over her shoulders. Behind her, an asymmetric trash-heap of a building, composed of cobbled stones with a thatched roof, loomed drearily, in contrast to the vivid surroundings.

Doc bowed and stepped in her direction. “So, Mara’s your name. I’m Doc-”

She scoffed and held up a waxy, arthritic claw. “I know who you are. Follow me.” With a surprising spring in her step, she glided away to her hovel. Once there she disappeared into the darkness behind the door frame. The group questioned each other with pregnant stares. Billie opened his mouth and Byron shook his head. Seemed too irreverent to spoil the moment with words.

Inside, they felt their way forward, hands pressed against stuccoed walls. With all the turns they took, the volume of space must have vastly exceeded the size of the shack as it appeared on the outside. Light spilled through a rectangular shape and Byron found a knob. He pulled on it and opened the door into a circular room. Its walls were several stories tall and light fell through a wrought iron star at top. Rays of sun illuminated the dust. He checked himself again, still not on fire.

At a table of thick rock slabs, Mara motioned for them to sit at matching stools. “It’s time I shared some words with all of you,” she said, her unblinking eyes not meeting any of their stares. “The old world ended, but it still stands in the way of the new. For a time, I believed the end would convince those who would make war of the wrong in their ways. Blindly, I chose to believe the gods would intervene, but they’d become complacent, old. They fell with the world and in their absence, magic has blown to the wind. There are those of you who have gripped a piece of the power, but what good is it for novices?”

Rory said, “That’s a lot to take in.”

The corners of Mara’s mouth tugged into a small smile. “Aurora. Always the impulsive one. How did I know you’d speak first?”

Under the glare of six sets of eyes, Rory’s face reddened, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

“No, no. That wasn’t a rebuke,” Mara said. She looked at Byron. “Wondering what you’re here for, eh?”

He nodded.

“It will be clear in time. For now, be patient. Everything is moving us closer to where we must go.”