Brand New Night
Page 24
Watching her carefully, he saw the change in her face at his words, her smile losing its playful edge, becoming something more tender, more genuine. He let his eyes close and allowed himself to drift for a moment. He was still very tired.
Ariadne’s hand absentmindedly stroked his hair. He reached for her, gently gripping her arm with his remaining hand. “Ari…when I…when he was about to finish me off…I saw your face, Ari, I saw your face and I thought I would never –”
She leaned down, cupped his face with her hands, and pressed her lips lightly against his. He pushed himself forward, leaning into the kiss, his lips opening, suddenly hungry, but it only lasted a moment, and then she pulled away.
It was not a passionate embrace this time, not a reckless plunge. It was a drop of blood on parched lips, a promise of things to come. It was enough.
“Hush,” she said softly. “You should rest. There will be time for all of that later.”
Sleep lapped at the edges of his mind again. “Will you stay here with me?” he whispered.
She took his hand in both of hers, and whispered back, “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”
----
When next he woke, pale light shone through the blinds. On the other side of the room, Ariadne spoke in a low voice to a man Draven didn’t recognize. She glanced over her shoulder at him, and abruptly cut off mid-sentence.
“Ah, Mr. Draven,” the man said, approaching the bed. He was on the older side, with gray hair and a thin mustache.
“Doctor?” Draven guessed.
“That’s right,” the man said. His tone was warm and friendly, albeit in a practiced manner. “Dr. Mathis. Your young friend Ariadne and I were just discussing the…unique nature of your condition.”
Draven resisted the urge to smile at the doctor calling Ariadne young. “How’s it looking, Doc?”
Dr. Mathis shook his head a little, as though impressed. “I must say, I’ve never treated a patient like you before. That wound is already healing, and at a rate that shouldn’t be possible. Normally an injury like yours would have presented us with a challenge, especially these days with our limited resources. But as it is, we’ve hardly had to do anything except provide you with bandages and a bed. It’s remarkable, really.”
Draven pushed his body up higher on the pillows with his elbow. It was an awkward movement; he found himself automatically trying to push against the bed with both arms. “People like me…” he explained slowly. “We have…regenerative capabilities.”
“I’ll say you do,” the doctor said with a slightly envious tone. “If only all my patients were so capable. Although…” His expression grew more serious. “Your friend tells me you’ll never make, well, a full recovery.”
Draven nodded. He’d had no illusions about the matter. “Remarkable or not, there’s only so much my body can do.”
“Well, that’s the bad news. The good news is that at the rate your wound is healing, your stay with us won’t be a long one. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.” He took a step toward the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m afraid I have other patients who require my attention.”
I’m sure you do, after last night, Draven thought. As Mathis reached for the door, he stopped him by saying, “Doctor?”
The man turned back to him. “Yes?”
“I just wanted to say thank you.”
Dr. Mathis looked at him for a moment, a strange, measured look, and said, “I won’t pretend to understand what you are, or what happened last night. But they’re saying that you helped us, so…I suppose I should be the one thanking you.”
He gave Draven a polite nod, and with that, he left the room.
----
Draven and Ariadne departed the hospital the following night to fly back to Wineblood Manor. Though he could tell it would be some time before he got used to the missing arm, Draven took comfort in the discovery that his bat form was as whole and healthy as ever. Disabled though he may be, he could still fly. As he put the city behind him with every beat of his wings, Ariadne at his side, he found himself experiencing the rush of the wind and the vastness of the night as if for the first time.
When they arrived at the Manor, they found it buzzing with excited whispers. The battle was all anyone seemed to be talking about, whether they had been there to see it or not. Word had spread about their deeds – Ariadne’s victory over Brone, Draven’s sacrifice in defense of her – and they were met not just with friendly greetings, but with open arms. Everyone wanted to shake Draven’s hand, and within minutes of arriving, he was already weary of accepting their praise and sympathy. In a short span of time, he’d gone from an exile to a hero. He didn’t know what to do with that.
The mood was not entirely celebratory, of course; the battle had claimed many lives. Grief hung in the air, as well as a still-lingering uncertainty. Wars had been won, foes defeated, and fallen friends avenged. The traitorous Gregario had been banished, and Thanatos imprisoned in his place. But now they had a dungeon full of Nightcloak prisoners of war, and nearby stood a city full of humans who now knew that vampires were real. Things weren’t about to go back to normal, and the path forward felt less clear than ever. And yet, in the wake of their recent victory, a newfound atmosphere of optimism hung over the clan.
Draven and Ariadne found Damian in the throne room, deep in conversation with Rosanna. He looked up as they approached, and his face broke into a warm smile.
“It’s good to see you up and about,” he said to Draven after they had all exchanged hugs. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m feeling well,” Draven said, and as he said it, he found it was not a lie. “Remarkably well, given the circumstances. What did I miss while I was lying around in a hospital bed?”
“Oh man, you guys haven’t heard yet,” Rosanna chimed in. She looked at Damian, an excited grin on her face. “Do you want to tell them, or can I?”
Damian, bemused, gestured at her with an open palm, giving her his permission to proceed.
Beaming, Rosanna clapped him on the shoulder and said to Ariadne, “Better start practicing your formalities, because pretty soon you’ll have to start calling your dad Lord Wineblood.”
Ariadne’s eyes grew wide with excitement. “Dad, is that true?”
“It’s true,” said Damian, an amused smile on his face. “But don’t worry, I won’t be too picky about the formalities with you. ‘Dad’ will do just fine.”
“You should compromise and go with ‘Lord Dad,’” Rosanna said.
Ariadne cringed, and Damian rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide his amused smile.
“I’m happy for you,” said Draven. “But what about Callidora?”
“He has her blessing,” a voice said, and they turned to see Callidora walking toward them across the throne room. She wore a dress of black satin, looking far statelier and more subdued than she had on the field of battle.
“You’re really willing to give up the throne?” Ariadne asked.
Callidora glanced at the unoccupied throne at the end of the hall. “I never wanted to rule,” she said. “My sister took to leadership like she was born for it, but I was content to be at her side, supporting her. I suppose I assumed that Selene might name me as her successor one day, but I never had a strong desire for the position. I think Selene knew this when she told Damian it was her wish for him to lead.”
“She would be proud of what you did for the clan,” Draven said kindly.
“Would she?” Callidora mused, a trace of bitterness in her voice. “I’d like to think so. But when I had Thanatos at my mercy, I could think of nothing but avenging Selene. If Damian hadn’t talked me down, I would have killed him then and there, and any chances of a truce between our clan and the Nightcloaks would have died with him. That’s what made me realize something – I can lead our armies into battle, but what we need now is a leader skilled in diplomacy, a leader who can heal wounds and foster peace. Damian, I believe, has that gift.”
Callidora gave him an appreciative nod.
“Well,” said Rosanna, “I think it’s a fine choice. I look forward to a new era of friendship between our clans, Lord Wineblood.”
“Thank you, Rosanna. But for the moment, until the transfer of power has been officially made, you may still call me Damian. Please.”
“Will you stay for the ceremony?” Ariadne asked Rosanna.
Rosanna sighed. “Wish I could. But I have my own clan to get back to, and I’ve left them alone for far too long already. I’m departing for home first thing tomorrow night, with a stop along the way to escort your Blackwing captives back to their court, like we promised Emerick.”
“Another opportunity to patch up old wounds,” Draven observed.
“Indeed,” Damian agreed. “It’s my hope that we’ll have more peaceful dealings with the Blackwings from here on out. Emerick seemed far more reasonable than Brone.”
“To be fair, Brone didn’t set a very high bar,” Rosanna pointed out.
“And Thanatos?” Draven asked. “What are we going to do with him?”
“Ah,” said Damian. “Yes, well…that will require a careful touch. But I’m confident we can reach an agreement. For all his myriad faults, Lord Thanatos is a prudent man. He knows when he’s beaten. He took his shot and he failed. He won’t get another one, especially not without the support of the Blackwings. We can’t control him, but with luck, we can convince him to stick to his own territory, mind his own affairs and leave the rest of us, and humanity, alone.”
“He’d better,” Ariadne said. “It’ll be a long time before any of the other clans will be quick to trust the Nightcloaks again.”
“We’ll keep a watchful eye on him,” Damian promised.
Draven shut his eyes for a moment, listening to the discussion and breathing deeply, feeling the way the air filled his ancient lungs. The future was as vast and uncertain as ever, and he was still alive.
Alive, but not unchanging.
“Ari,” he said, gently interrupting the conversation. “I’m parched. Care to join me outside and split a bottle?”
She looked at him, and something stirred in her eyes. “I’ll get the glasses,” she said.
----
“Careful! You’re shaking, it’ll spill!”
“Damn it…here, you pour.”
Draven set the bottle down on the railing of the Manor’s balcony, next to the pair of wine glasses, and let Ariadne take over. “Sorry about that. I’m still…you know, getting used to this.”
“Of all the arms to have chopped off,” she bemoaned, as she filled the glasses with rich, red blood, “it had to be your dominant one.”
Draven gave her a rather sour look.
“I’m sorry,” she said gently, passing him a glass. “Really, I am.”
“I know. Don’t feel too sorry for me, though. Everything worked out pretty well for me, all things considered.”
“Oh yeah? How do you figure?”
“Well, it’s like I said. As long as I have you, I have everything I need.”
He thought she would be flustered, or more likely laugh at him again for being such a hopeless romantic. But instead she just looked down at the glass of blood, swirling it slightly in her hand.
“Everything, huh?” she said quietly. “That’s a lot for one person. I don’t know if I can always be everything.”
“Just be you, then,” Draven said. “Just be Ariadne, as she is now. That’ll be enough, I promise. I’d be a fool to ask for anything more or expect anything less.”
She looked at him, her usual sly smile that he loved so much tinged with an unselfconscious delight. “You never cease to surprise me, do you know that, Draven?”
“How’s that?”
“Well, here you are, hundreds of years old, and you’re finally starting to sound wise.”
He grinned. “A side effect of being surrounded by good influences.”
“I’ll have to keep it up, then. I like this Draven.”
“Oh, no, you misunderstand,” he teased. “I meant your father.”
She laughed, clear as a bell, the prettiest sound he’d ever heard. “Stop, you’ll ruin the moment.”
They stood there for a time, her arm wrapped loosely around his waist as they sipped their drinks in comfortable silence, watching as the blackness of the night sky gradually turned to a light gray.
“Sun will be up soon,” Ariadne remarked.
Draven nodded. “First day of a new world.”
“Do you think it will be a good one?”
He searched his heart for an answer that rang true, but he didn’t have to search very far. The answer, finally, was right beside him.
“Yes,” he said, as he met her eyes in the slowly waning darkness. “Yes, I think it will.”
Afterword & Acknowledgements
When I set out to write this book, I knew only that I wanted to merge the storied post-apocalyptic and vampire genres into a fun action-adventure tale that would tackle a simple question, on both a personal and sociological level: How do we deal with change? When the going gets tough and survival can no longer be taken for granted, do we put our own needs first or do we take big chances and strive to build a more equitable world? That’s a question that I expect will eventually bleed over, more and more, from the realm of speculative fiction into daily reality – and in some ways already has. As Ariadne put it, “Everything has already changed, and it will change again. Changing is the only thing the world can do.” Change is coming, and change is terrifying, but one thing, I suspect, will never change: Humans will still be reflecting their lives through stories, right up to and beyond the end of the world. Thanks for reading mine.
A big thank you, as well to the following; my critique partners on Scribophile, for their invaluable feedback that helped make my first draft a lot less rough; my patient friends and family, who had to listen to me tell them, again and again, that I had a novel coming out “soon,” and to everyone who, upon asking what my first novel was going to be about and hearing “post-apocalyptic vampires,” kept an open mind. Trust me, I wouldn’t have believed it either.
On a related note, if you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving a review on Amazon! Reviews are the easiest way for readers to help other readers connect with the books they love (also, tell your friends!), so every review is worth its weight in gold to humble indie authors like myself. Anyone who takes the time to do so will have my undying appreciation (or, if it’s a negative review, at least my begrudging respect).
Additionally, if you’d like to stay appraised of my future writing endeavors, you can follow me on Tumblr (nathanspainbooks.tumblr.com) as well as on Twitter (@NathanSpain42), or find me on Facebook (facebook.com/nathanspainbooks). Or sign up for my newsletter (http://eepurl.com/dqMXyz). Lastly, for a different kind of writing, you can also visit me online at lightscameranathan.com, where I post film reviews and other pop-culture related commentary.
I have a lot more stories in me, and I hope you’ll stick around to share them with me when the time comes. But for now, the dawn approaches, so back into my coffin I go!
See you when the sun goes down,
Nathan
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