As the sun’s final rays disappeared beyond the horizon, she arose. Hair as black as the night before her, eyes as sharp and blue as ice. Her bright, pale skin reflected the moon nearly perfectly. She stretched, her wings brushing up against the ceiling of the small tree cubby she had located the morning before. Sleeping in her bat form was not ideal; but what else was a traveling vampire to do? She didn’t have much choice. She had nowhere safer to rest and hide from the daylight.
It was always the same responsibility, the same routine; receive and retrieve. Counter and capture. Dead or alive. Night after night. No matter how long it would take or how repetitive it got. Just be sheltered and hidden by morning.
As a vampire, Grace had advantages others didn’t have; use of magic at her will, and all the time in the world. She could hunt whenever she pleased, given it was dark. However she did still find herself faced with a few limitations; the sunlight, and her name. In secret, she was loved and praised. In public, she was slandered and torn down. The difference was simple; her name. If she remained anonymous, nobody could complain about her and what she had or had not done. Although people always search for someone to blame, and once they find someone, they don’t soon forget. Once someone is marked as an outcast by society, it’s next to impossible to find their way back in, to find closure, and to receive the love they deserve.
If this world, if this life, feels justice has failed them, so have justice’s children. So have her parents. And the blame falls once more, like a raggedy old curtain being drawn, shutting the truth either in, or out. With no trial, only error. With no hope or acceptance, only desertion. No chance to defend, as the world has heard enough.
Acceptance is an incredibly elusive gift, and one that not everybody gets to hold in their lifetime. At one time, Grace held this gift, as did her mother. Although times have changed. The world is different from how it was. Change is no stranger; especially when you’ve lived for so long. However, change being a familiar concept doesn’t make it more comfortable. It doesn’t make it any less frightening. It just means you’ve almost been there before.
“On to tonight’s work”, Grace said aloud to herself. She glided down from her treetop cubby, and onto the soft, green grass, where she changed into her human form.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
“Who shall we find tonight, hm?” She began shifting through her papers, searching for the correct page. “Perhaps Sable can help me decide.”
Grace released a low, quiet whistle from her lips, and with a small gust of magical black smoke, a horse appeared from the shadows. “There you are, boy. I was looking for you.”
The stallion nickered in response and threw his head slightly. “Good evening M’lady.”
She smiled as she stroked the stallion’s neck. “Who do you think we should find? Should we clear out one of the older ones, or tackle one of the new ones? The old ones ain’t going anywhere, they’re mostly deceased by now I’m sure. Some of these posters are well over fifty years old. We’ve just been so busy, and some of these guys haven’t been the easiest to find...”
She paused, sifting through the posters, looking at names and faces. “Some of these guys don’t even have proper sketches, or any sketches, for that matter. Some are descriptions and names only. Not a lot to go off of.”
The stallion stood behind her, watching over her shoulder, gazing at the posters with her, but remaining silent, allowing her to think.
Finally, her eyes rested on one poster. An older poster, from roughly a hundred and fifty years passed. Rocco Kabble, wanted for tax fraud and evasion, along with a series of thefts, scams, and swindles. Dead or alive, reward offered in full at his retrieval.
“This one isn’t the biggest fish we have to fry,” Grace said aloud as she put the remaining posters back in her satchel. “However he is one of the oldest. Most likely deceased now too. But I know for a fact some places are still struggling to get back what he stole from them. Let’s go find him, boy.”
Sable leaned down, allowing Grace to clamber onto his back. Just as quick as she had awakened and summoned Sable, they had left again, leaving behind nothing but the thundering sound of hooves racing across the ground, and a thick, trailing black cloud of magic.
Sometimes, her job was easy. Sometimes, she could save and protect, while other times, she wound up filled with regret and sorrow, at complete a loss for words. She traveled further than the wind, faster than the ocean waves, and she had been everywhere; but at the same time, she had been nowhere. Have you truly traveled anywhere if the entire time, you’ve been in the same place? That depends on the journey. Long or short, easy or rough, slow or fast. A journey is a journey all the same.