I stirred.

I thought.

I tasted.

I hungered.

My senses stretched out. For the first time since I fell into unsleep, I could feel once more.

Blood flowed. It was enough to awaken me,

With a burst of power and shadows, I took on my earthly form. Flesh from shadows. A trick of those who held particular amounts of power. It did require practice, and I had my fair share of real experience in that area.

It wasn't enough blood though. Nor was it fresh enough. It tasted… lukewarm and old. Like they stored the body in ice for a week then warmed it. It was an unpleasant taste.

I opened my eyes. Even in the dim light of the odd device that the man held. I could see him. I could see the hallways beyond. What kind of torch was this? Bright as a bonfire but small enough to be a handle of a knife.

I looked down. The youthful hands of my childhood stared back at me. I needed more blood. Fresh blood. Then I would be strong again.

My heart began to beat in anticipation.

Then my heart nearly gave out as I looked around. There was clay around me. Was… was I held in a clay pot? Me!? CLAY!?

“Gidsnlfne,” the man whispered. It was either a border dialect or a completely different language. Sadly, this wasn’t the first time it had happened to me. “Uhh Lur? Gidsn… lfne?”

My breathing calmed. I calmed down. The etiquette of my family bred true and instead of rage, I embraced calmness. In stillness, there is life, my father often said.

I stared at him and tilted my head so that I could look at him. My eyes stared into his eyes. Deep. Deep into him.

The man did not look away and the world dimmed as I touched his very soul. I touched upon the region of memories. To the piece that held spoken words.

“Hello,” I replied as I sat up. My frail form was covered only by my long hair. Abnormally long. This was new. I must be far weaker than I originally thought. I have reverted to child form.

“I see you have awakened, Prince of Twilight,” the man responded with a terrible bow. It was stiff and held very little respect. Not like the old days at all.

“You have awoken me,” I replied as I crossed my legs and stared at him. His soul’s radiance held the shine of one I knew. That one who sealed me here. “You of the Helmont family. Why would 'You' unseal me?”

“I…” the man took a shuddering breath as he fell down.

“I... I need your help… help…” the man sobbed out. He had truly given up everything now. Everything he once held dear.

I frowned and for the first time I saw the odd parchment in his hands. It was flat but see-through. There were hints of red in it, and I could smell the blood. Did humans now carry blood in glass or wax paper now? But it was too clear for wax…

“Why me?” I asked as my intrigue grew. My mind was finally gathering its wits. The air itself tasted different. Dare I say it was also a touch warmer now?

“You are all I can turn to… I am desperate…” he cried as he finally broke. His spirit dimmed as he practically folded into himself. His tears made me wince and I leaned back as he sneezed. A line of snot hung for his nose.

I nearly gagged as that could have landed on me.

“Freedom in exchange for the death of a man?” I bargained as I stood up to my four-foot glory. The faster I bartered, the faster I could leave this diseased man.

I yawned and my body shivered. The air here might have been warmer then I expected, but changed little. My current powers didn't allow me to warm myself. My little satchel was practically trying to crawl back into me.

“Yes. Death. This man,” the old man said. Conviction flooded his voice as he held out an oddly bright piece of paper. I stared at it as it held the photo of a man. It was in color, and the noble dress he wore was intriguing.

The detailing here was exquisite. I had never seen such a painting or sketch in my life. It was so lifelike!

Especially the nobleman’s clothes. I found that it looked clean. straight lines. An odd lined pattern. No frills. Droll, but clean. My father would have loved it, the eccentric taskmaster he was.

“You have an agreement son of Helmont,” I stated as I hopped off my tomb. I stared at it. The lid sat by the wall. The once decorated wood was cracked from age. It seemed like the enchantments to preserve it had long since eroded.

My mind twitched at the insult to my station. Long I had served, and yet this was my final resting place. A lowly clay pot, and a probably discount wooden casket. How shameful.

I had expected that they had at least used stone. I snorted at the fact that the great Helmont family couldn’t afford proper stone for my resting site. What was I? A cheap thrall?

My mother would have given that Sigmund Helmont an earful before ripping out his ribs for even mention such sad materials. Wood required careful work. The enchantments were supposed to on the inside.

I tsked as I gathered my hair and brushed it over my shoulder. It looked good on me when I was young. Or so mother had often said.

I ran my hands through it a few times, but the silky soft hair inherited from my mother stayed true. It was like silk, and tangle-free.

I smirked as I took the photo and walked over the weeping man. Why he started crying again, I did not know. Nor did I wish to.

I had made a deal. I would keep my word to the best of my ability. My father was many things and taught me a greater sum of what my position entailed. Yet he always kept his word. Well, to the best of his abilities at any rate.

I made my way out of the tomb. It was a traditional one. Though low effort since it was lacking any flair or polished corridors. This was simply a cave that they had found.

Ok. Even my father would have words about this. He was a practical man, but honestly. This was the low effort I expected from the souther tribes. Not the esteemed Helmont family. Did they sell my ashes or something?

I snorted in distaste and dissatisfaction.

I turned on my bare heel and marched out of this cave.

The cave leads to a rusted gate. I smelled the iron and I stepped past it and onto worn bricks. Most were in disrepair. Or rather complete entropy.

I was behind thickets of old trees and layers of dead leaves laid before me. I frowned as I made my way forward and I followed the only path before me.

The first two things noticed was both simple and profound.

The air itself was rancid. The sounds of the underworld were everywhere.

Did they bury me near a charnel house? The world smelt of smoke and decay. Ugh.

The sound as well. Was it the wailing of enslaved beasts? They roared and made odd high pitched screams every now and then.

With a flourish of my hand, the pathway was filled with the wind that scattered the dying leaves. Only dirt and the broken stone pathway remained.

I grimaced as I made my way out. I clenched my hands and I prepared to kill whatever was making such a racket.

Weak or not. I would go down fighting! For my name is Avaris Luna Dracule von Tepes. Prince of the Twilight Kingdoms. Heir to the Midnight Throne!

I stepped into the brushes and out the other side. I would strike first!

My very brain stopped. My sharp eyes widened and contracted as I tried to see everything at once.

Lights. Sounds.

Buildings of glass and stone that stretched to the heavens.

All of these things sat near and far. The world was filled with lights of bright, colored torches. It was like that small torch the Helmont son carried, but brighter and bigger.

I stopped and stared.

It took me moments before my brain caught up to me.

The world had changed.

Changed a lot. I could see people wearing what nobility had worn. Finely tailored items that held color, pictures, and even had embroidered wordings everywhere.

Either the nobility had exploded into the tens of thousands… or the average peasant now lived like lords.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

I flinched as a roar reached my ears.

The skies screamed, and I saw a giant bird fly overhead. Its very presence was loud and domineering. I watched as it quickly approached the land. It was oddly graceful for a whale in the sky.

What was it? The wings did not flap, and yet it screamed without pause. More curious no people below reacted in terror… they seemed to ignore it as they went on with their lives.

I turned around and made my way back to the still sobbing man.

It seemed that I needed a guide. That Helmont boy would do well to show me how civilization itself had changed.

I smiled.

My mind was filled with the revelation of this new world.

How exciting!

----------------------------------------

The taste exploded in my mouth once more. The candy popped and crackled while the sweet chocolate flowed down my throat.

I licked my lips as I lifted a leg of chicken, and tore into it. My sharp teeth gnawing around the bone as I took in the heavily spiced food. Not since the festival banquets had I tasted such delicacies.

All around me people moved. Most stared but I paid them no mind as I focused on the important stuff. Food.

Stewart watched me in awe as I tore through the assembled meal.

We had taken up an entire table in the food court of this mall. I ate. And ate. And ate.

Mother and Father would have been jealous at the sheer breadth of what was available today. The modern man ate like kings! Every day!

I powered through Italian noodles. Chinese noodles. Thai noodles.

I crunched through hard-shelled tacos, fried chicken, and French fries.

Delicacies that did not exist like this in my time. The closest thing I could recall was simple fairs. Festivals. Feasts. Yet not in the manner such as this.

I drank shakes. Bubble tea. Pop.

Oh, that was an experience. The dark liquid that looked like feted water was actually super yummy! The child in me simply guzzled it. The odd ‘pearls’ were gooey and I loved rolling them around my mouth.

People were taking pictures. The cell phone, a picture, and a parchment device. They could instantly talk to others around the world. They flashed lights as they watched me eat. Some were also, as Stewart said, recording me.

An art of capturing memories in real-time.

How amazing!

It could be re-watched later at one’s leisure.

How amazing!

It was once bards and poets that could capture the essence of the moment. An artist and painter to bring it to sight.

I burped. The shadow within me quickly condensed the food into vital energy. The fuel that allowed me to be me. A high lord of the night.

With a sigh, I picked up the last sandwich. A hamburger they called it. Yet it contained no ham. Just beef, lettuce, onions, tomatoes, cheese, ketchup, and mayo. I liked the mayo.

I savored it as I was pretty much full, and Stewart was coming out of his shock. He had long since finished eating, and could only stare as I steadily continued.

With a flourish, I finished my cola and I dwelled on the fizzy sugar. I moved my hand up to my mouth as I let forth a rude burp. This fizzy water really did tickle my stomach.

I began to help clean up. The trays of food were moved, but I refrained from using my powers. I could have sped it up, but Stewart explained the modern world. Of how technology had changed the minds of the people.

I saw it as a weakness of the spirit. Tools could help, but it was up to the individual to foster a strong mind and will. These tools were a double-edged sword. One that could lay me low, based on how everyone else was unable to part with theirs.

The Kingdom of Twilight had powerful soldiers, but we still taught the discipline of the body, mind, and spirit. For power without wisdom was simply a disaster waiting to happen.

I saw a group of girls gawking, and I gave them a smile and a wink. Three of them frowned, but the other three blushed.

Sure I looked like a child, but I was still a noble and a vampire. A hint of power and danger was like a siren’s call to them. It seemed that humans today were not all that different from humans a thousand years ago.

“Avaris. I believe its time to leave,” Stewart said as he stood by my side. I looked at the man and nodded.

“Of course Stewart. I am satisfied, please lead the way,” I said as I turned to look at the man. I was a man of my word.

I looked at the people around me. Most had lost interest and were wandering off. I could have eaten a hundred people here and regained my full power.

I didn’t wish to kill without reason. I was a man raised to be civil. I could be rough when needed, but otherwise, I would do what was proper. Which meant the slower, mortal way.

Instead, I had simply eaten good food and regained perhaps a tenth of my full strength.

There was no real substitute for the living meat of intelligent people. There was more to life than just fat and muscles. The power of spirits, the saturation of the mind and soul. This is what vampires also fed on.

If anything, I was leary on how these humans would taste. So little faith, and so much apathy.

I followed Stewart as we made our way out of the mall, and into his car. The horseless, powerful carriage was a marvel. Though the lack of space and the noxious smells were definitely a downside.

We drove around town. Stewart was kind enough to guide me through human history. We even visited a museum to showcase what they were capable of without the ancient lords.

What confused me was there was no mention of the supreme ones. No vampires. No were-beasts. No spirits.

It was a simple, dry history. Washed with the perspective of one who lived short lives.

I found myself wondering what had happened to Estoria. The island kingdom upon which my family lineage could be traced for ten generations.

I would find out after I had completed this task.

I looked outside and saw the setting sun. I looked at Stewart who nodded and guided me back to the car.

It was time to see what plagued Stewart Helmont so.

----------------------------------------

The warehouse district was far from the core of the city.

It was also perfect for the Night Runners to gather. Their simple gang ruled the underbelly of the city with an iron fist. They were strong enough to suppress even gangs from other cities.

So they watched in interest as a small simple sedan pulled up. The headlights turned off, and their old friend walked out.

Stewart looked less the hobo he had when they last saw him. Now he was clean, confident. Beside him was a child?

“Hahaha. Old man! Did you bring us another little plaything?” Julia asked as she giggled. She hopped up and onto her feet while jogging out to greet the cute little girl.

Jacob sighed as he stood up. His massive frame topped out at six and a half feet. He wore no shirt as they simply didn’t fit his body unless custom ordered.

“Hello everyone. A good evening to you all,” the young… boy? Said as he made his way up. He was immediately accosted by Julia who squealed and wrapped him in a tight hug.

“I would like to talk to Zander,” Stewart said as he sighed. His trump card was currently being hugged and twirled around. Julia rubbed her cheek against his. Her laughter floated in the night as the others watched.

“Zander is busy right now. Try again another night,” Jakob’s low voice rumbled the air as he finally made it over.

“I believe that we have a misunderstanding here…” the boy said as his mind whirled from such excessive spinning.

“I am here to get my daughter back,” Stewart said as he looked into Jacob’s eyes.

“I don’t know where you grew some balls old man, but at least you brought me something cute!” Julia said as she used her long nail to caress the soft skin. She made sure to massage the throat while staring into the old man’s eyes.

“Enough… Kneel.”

Thump!

It took a moment for them to understand. They were on their knees and the boy simply walked from Julia’s embrace. Her strong embrace.

The two of them stared at each other and growled. Their howls pierced the night.

Fur grew on them. Jacob was half-covered, revealing his strong torso, while his face turned wolf-like.

Julia simply grew fur that covered her like a swimsuit, leaving her long and pale limbs to be leered at.

They both howled as power ran through their bodies. They simply stood up as the weak command of a young boy was not enough to stop them.

Julia stared at him for the small boy he was.

“Kneel,” he said again. Except for this time, he was looking at them. His eyes stared deep into theirs.

THUMP.

They fell to their knees again, yet no matter how they struggled, they couldn’t rise up. Fear grew as the boy stared at them with his glowing eyes, dusted red with power.

Then, he simply reached out and made a fist. With a tug, the heavy loading doors leading into the warehouse were torn off their frames and thrown out into the lot.

The dull boom of the doors echoed into the night.

----------------------------------------

I watched the ants scramble from their nests.

These humans raised their guns. The cracks and booms of their weapons surprised me. The small metal objects clinked against my body and I caught one. It was small. Dome-shaped. It was made of metal that was perfectly forged.

How was this made? From the force, it was more than enough to pierce a man. Was this how they did wars now? How tragic it must be. To kill a man and not have the dignity to do it up close.

It was only then that you could feel the value of the life you had taken. This new form of killing would dehumanize the act.

I felt a pang of sorrow as I realized that the modern world did indeed have its drawbacks.

Untold riches. Technology that surpassed human limits. Yet they were slowly losing the essence of themselves.

If Estoria still existed today, and if they had no king left… if they would take me as their king again, I would ensure that the spirit of man would be taught. Yet did I not still have many things to learn?

I pondered the question as I watched them refill their weapons. Then with a thought, I pulled the gun from one of their hands. The small silver weapon flew into my hand, and I took aim.

I copied their movements. I pulled the trigger and a boom rocked my senses. It was loud. It smelled of blacksmith dust, and one of the men simply dropped screaming as he clutched his stomach.

Seeing as how I wasn’t hurt by their bullets, but they were vulnerable to mine, they simply started to scream as they began another round of attacks.

I sighed as I simply waved my hand. A dozen men simply collapsed as they fell into unconsciousness.

This also had the effect of letting the werewolves up.

I turned around and smiled as I tossed the gun away.

“Please ask Zander to let the girl go,” I said as I stared into their eyes.

They took a few steps back. The sight of such a powerful boy shook their mentality.

I sighed. Where was the werewolf dignity? Did I not show them my prowess? Was the next step not to honor such a simple request?

If Revin was still around, he would have either gone drinking into depression... Or he would have slapped these two around to instill manners into them.

“I hear you boy,” a man said as he walked out.

I turned around and nodded to myself. He looked like the picture. Clean cut. He was confident as he walked towards us.

“You must be Zander,” I said as I walked forward. We met in the middle.

“You must think your hot shit. BUT you are not the only vampire around here!” Zander yelled as he snapped his finger.

Power smashed into my like a fist the size of a car. I staggered under the sudden attack and slid back a few feet.

Zander blinked and he tensed as he saw my glare. Two could play this simple game of power. I snapped my fingers.

BOOM!

Everyone watched as Zander was blown into the brick walls of the warehouse. It wasn’t strong enough to stop him and thus he crashed into the various crates of wood and metal.

Boom.

With a yell, Zander leaped from the hole and back to the outside world.

“Who are you!?” he screamed as he looked me in the eyes. I felt his mind poking at me.

“Kneel,” I answered back.

Thump.

I walked forward. Even kneeling he was nearly my height.

“Where is the girl?” I asked as I looked into his eyes. I saw the cages. One in particular held a blond-haired girl that looked like a Helmont. “They are in the back of the warehouse, go free all of them.”

Stewart took off like a bolt from a crossbow.

“HA!”

I felt the hot sensation of Zander’s final struggle. His right hand had formed long claws of bone and was currently running me through. I could feel them come out my back.

“You underestimated me. I am a high lord you pathetic heroic peasant!” Zander crowed.

“Who do you work for? Where are all of those girls going?” I simply asked as I looked back into his eyes.

“What?” he whispered. His fingers were stuck. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t look away.

I dug in. I had no further need to be polite as I began to pry open his fragile mind. His mind arts were simple at best.

Zander screamed. His body trembled but he could not move.

I saw another man. A far more dignified looking vampire. He had proper frills on his clothing and everything. Wait… was that fur? Huh, didn’t look too bad.

“Who was that?” I asked.

Zander simply collapsed. I let him go as I felt something break.

The man floundered like a fish out of water. Then he stiffened and with a sigh, turned to dust.

I frowned. That was a death pact. They were illegal and only used by the most extreme of barbaric lords.

I turned around to look at the two werewolves who were now staring at me with wide eyes.

I smiled at them. It was time to bargain again.

Oddly, it seemed to make them tremble harder.