CHAPTER FIVE
As has happened on many occasions throughout history, human perception of monsters or supernatural beasts are really bastardized myths based on actual beings. Perhaps the most prominent of these in humanity is that of the vampire, an entity that sucks the blood of humans from their body for sustenance, then killing the humans or magically turning them into young vampires. These creatures are at times portrayed as fearful evil entities like in Nosferatu or Dracula or misunderstood exotic beings like in Twilight. They are always considered immortal, typically allergic to garlic and holy water and burnt by the sun. Some popular myths even give them the ability to transform into bats or wolves and sway others mentally using magic. This is all ridiculousness and fairy tales.
Aurics drain life energy from human beings but it is a psychic function, there is no drinking of blood and they are not undead. In fact, Aurics still continue to eat and drink, but they need regular infusions of energy from human beings to maintain optimum health, which is of course much greater than that of a human being. Because of their ability to survive longer without physical sustenance and the addition of life force, they do live life spans comparable to or exceeding that of Stewards. Aurics are typically law abiding now that human populations have so greatly increased. They are able to live happily and healthfully in large cities where they can drain the excess of life force from many people rather than a single individual - this allows them to exist without doing harm. In fact, they have been used as an extreme crowd control instrument in times of emergency and serve well in hospitals and police and fire departments.
CHAPTER SIX
Liesel went through the motions of the airport security checkpoint and boarding the plane robotically going through the social pleasantries expected from a 25-year-old female in the Southern United States. It was if the rest of the world were in dull sepia tone around her and a tic out of time, just a bit too slow to really be in rhythm. She scanned the crowds around her trying to determine if anyone with supernatural abilities or non-human DNA was among the throngs. She doubted there were many. Most didn’t like the crush of people and the sensory overload of modern America, let alone at large, densely packed places like airports. There were probably some aurics around but they were likely fitting in as workers. They fed off of high emotion and tended to jobs in hospitals and airports and law enforcement where they could feed without doing harm, in fact they may do good if they are careful in not only who they take from but how much. The phereins and the therians though, they would not tolerate a sea of humanity such as this unless forced to and would have to tightly control their bodies lest anything untoward and unexpected happen that needed to be covered up, if it could be in these days of Internet everywhere.
Liesel dozed easily on the flight, reminiscing about her childhood summers in the middle of nowhere surrounded by love and monsters.
###
“Grams, why don’t you and Mommy talk to each other?” asked precocious 5-year-old Liesel, her hair in ringlet pigtails, her face smudged with dirt from playing in the yard with a little town girl she had just met.
Gertrude sighed and knelt down in front of her granddaughter, patting her dusty cheek. “Your mother and I disagree on something very, very important that we cannot put aside. Rather than argue we simply do not communicate anymore except when we arrange your summers here,” she said.
“What did you disagree on, Grams?” asked Liesel. “Was it my Daddy? I asked Mommy about my Daddy once and she got really mad and didn’t talk to me for a long time.” The little girl’s gaze dropped to her scuffed shoes and she wiped her nose on the back of her hand.
“Oh well, no precious, it was something else but I do suppose your mother treats all disagreements the same. This disagreement though, I don’t think she will start talking to me again, I think it is permanent,” said Gertrude. “But don’t worry your little head over it. I will tell you all about it when you are a bit older, I promise.” Gertrude held out her loosely held fist with just her little finger extended. Liesel did the same and they shook hands with their pinkies, thus solemnizing the vow as far as the 5-year-old was concerned.
Then, just as quickly and innocently as the question was asked, Liesel smiled, turned, and began skipping her way up the path to the weathered front porch of the old farmhouse her grandmother called home and her mother once had as well.
###
“And what is a Steward’s responsibility?” Gertrude asked Liesel over her shoulder while the two cleaned the office and sorted through the long-neglected filing system.
“To care for and look after her charges. Duties included in this responsibility may be keeping order in segregated or sheltered communities, arranging legal assistance, attending important functions, and generally protecting them from not only detection from the human population but also physical harm and exploitation by that population,” said Liesel in a rush before taking in a deep breath.
“Very good, Liesel,” said Gertrude. “Some day you will be a Steward, the Steward of this region, and I know you can be trusted to do what is right by your people.” Liesel seemed to stand straighter at the praise.
There was a an extended silence and Gertrude could tell from the tension in Liesel that she wanted to ask something but wasn’t sure if it was yet the time.
“You want to know if you are old enough to know why your mother and I don’t speak?” inquired Gertrude. “Have you not asked her yourself?”
“She won’t tell me, just gives me the silent treatment, there isn’t any point,” answered the newly 13-year-old Steward-in-Training in a sulking voice.
Gertrude sighed and sat in her desk chair and gestured for Liesel to sit in one of the visitor chairs. Liesel quickly put down the stack of papers she had been sorting through and perched on the edge of the closest visitor chair, leaning forward expectantly.
“Your mother felt the responsibilities of being a Steward were unfair. That a woman should not be asked to spend an extended lifetime dedicated to creatures more fearsome than she simply because she lived longer and could take a long view of history and humanity. She feels our race is burdened rather than gifted.” Said Gertrude.
“How are we burdened?” asked Liesel. “We live three times as long or more than regular people, we rarely get ill, we heal rapidly, and we have awesome reflexes. You should see the achievements I can rack up in video games with just my hand eye control!” Liesel exclaimed.
Gertrude chuckled dryly and shook her head at that last statement. Then she looked Liesel in the eyes and made sure she had her full attention. “Stewards have a responsible to produce offspring to replace them, at least one, particularly because the non-European Council families are more wide spread and smaller in number.”
“Of course but most folks want kids eventually, that’s not really a big deal is it?” asked Liesel.
“Well, not everyone wants children, but that is not where I’m leading with this conversation. The gifts of a Steward, notably the long life, are only gifts given to females, it’s only genetically passed down through the woman and only women show it. That means a woman will outlive any husband she takes, even if he was bred by a Steward, and will need to give up any male babies she births so that they do not discover her secret - our secrets - and possibly reveal us,” said Gertrude.
“Oh” was all Liesel said as she leaned back in the chair and looked toward the ceiling. After some time she spoke again, “Is that what happened to mother and it turned her against the Stewards? Is that why she won’t tell me who my father is?” asked Liesel.
“Your mother never allowed herself to love anyone and honestly, it is discouraged to actually marry because it can become difficult to mimic aging and you would eventually need to fake your own death if they did not die before their time. She ran out and got pregnant on a one-night stand. I am not sure she even knows who your father is and that probably embarrasses her, or maybe it doesn’t. She was terrified she would have a boy but learning you were a gir
l didn’t seem to bring her happiness either,” said Gertrude. “After you were born she said she could not saddle you with the life and sacrifices of Stewardship. I pointed out to her that you would still outlive any humans you developed relationships with, romantic or otherwise, and still would not be able to confer long life to a male child should you have one. I said you needed guidance and support for those reasons alone and she would endanger you by keeping you in the dark about your race. She agreed to let you spend summers with me so that I could educate you on what you are but she was clearly hoping it would not be enough to influence you into making a different choice than she did, the choice to accept your birthright.”
Liesel continued to stare at the ceiling, her relaxed expression giving away nothing.
“What about a male that already knows what we are?” asked Liesel.
“What do you mean?” asked Gertrude, furrowing her forehead.
“Well, why not marry someone from your region who already knows what we are, like a therian. They live longer than humans at least and won’t give away our secrets because they are a secret too,” said Liesel.
Gertrude sat up straighter in her chair and focused very fiercely on Liesel. “No, Liesel, we do not become intimate with our supernatural charges. It will diminish our authority over them if they see us as no different than them or as as their breeders. Their genetics are also highly dominant and we cannot afford to have fewer Stewards and most definitely not while adding to the numbers of Therians or Phereins
Liesel did not respond for some time, just kept staring at the old dropped ceiling tiles.
“Was that too much too soon, precious?” asked Gertrude.
“No, Grams,” said Liesel.
“What do you think so far then, granddaughter, is being a Steward a burden or a blessing?” asked Gertrude.
“Both, kind of. I mean, it sucks not really being able to get married and all that but without all the people you take care of as a Steward, you would be really lonely, right Grams?” said Liesel. “I’d rather have friends I need to help out than be entirely alone.”
Liesel sat up straight again and looked her Grandmother in the eyes again, “But I’m barely a teenager, what do I know?”
###
“I don’t think Mother is going to let me come back next summer. She is talking about jobs and internships even though I still have a couple of years until college.” Said Liesel sitting on the porch swing with her Grandmother as they waited for Liesel’s mother Ingrid to arrive to pick her up now that September was almost there, even though the heat was still at its height.
“I will always have a home for you to come back to Liesel. It will seem like forever when you think about it now but our time apart will seem like nothing once you reach the age of Steward training. I’ve been teaching you what I can and will keep in contact always but a few decades are nothing looking backward to someone who lives as long as we do,” said Gertrude, patting Liesel on the leg.
They swung lazily for a while before Liesel laid her head on her grandmother’s shoulder. “Grams, who was my grandfather? Did you love him?” she asked quietly.
Gertrude smiled and Liesel could hear it in her voice. Your mother’s father was a cowboy back when this great state was newly formed. He was a German immigrant and we married, even though I knew we shouldn’t because I would some day have to leave him. At lest that’s what I thought,” she ended the last word on a sigh. “He was trampled to death by cattle, widowing me not long after I gave premature birth to a little boy, your mother was a few years old. The baby caught some nasty disease that was prevalent at the time - it was a filthy era, better I suppose than the ones before it, but still rampant with death and disgust. I have had gentleman callers as we used to say in the years since but I decided not to risk another long term relationship after that. I took comfort from having your mother and knowing our blood line would continue on.”
“I’m sorry, Grams.” Said Liesel.
Gertrude gently kissed Liesel on the head. “Don’t be sorry, precious,” she said. “I’ve never been lonely and I have loved and I have always had great purpose. I hope the same for you.”
###
Liesel woke up shortly before the plane began its deceleration to land in Dallas. She checked in to a hotel at the Dallas Fort Worth International Airport and sent a text to Trish that she was at the hotel and would be downstairs to check out first thing in the morning. Trish texted back that a local guy, one of the newer town residents, would be there bright and early to drive her to Zell. No one ever flies in to one of the smaller, closer, regional airports or drives themselves in because there is something that disrupts modern travel devices and gives humans the heebee jeebies usually causing them to turn around head some other way, likely on a major road. Liesel could drive herself in, of course, but there was nowhere even remotely nearby to return a rental car to and it just didn’t seem worth it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Gauners are obstructive regarding Council requests for information regarding their race. What is known as that they are powerful consciousnesses that can, for lack of a better term, possess the living body of another. If the body is alive but the brain is dead, this is an easy task for them. If the person they wish to possess is intact and whole, they must force the original consciousness or soul out of the body, effectively killing their opponent and taking their physical form as the prize. This can be traumatic for Gauners as it is believed that they experience remnants of their victim’s life. They also seem to retain abilities related to muscle memory and more remote areas of the brain, such as the ability to play a musical instrument, without conscious thought. It is unknown how Gauners propagate their race or what form their issue takes. It is also unknown how long they live, if they die with their physical form if they do not leave it prior to death, if they can exist outside of a physical form, or how many there are in the world.
The Council of Stewards recommends keeping them at a polite distance to avoid potential possession as their motives and philosophy are not fully understood.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Gideon’s current body was that of a 20-something almost completely generic white guy with sandy blond hair, brown eyes, an unimpressive build and standing about five feet, nine inches. Since he was not very memorable, he generally had to announce his presence to newcomers or otherwise go out of his way to introduce himself to new people.
Liesel checked out from her room and goes down to the lackluster hotel lobby that looked like pretty much every other chain hotel lobby, worn and too heavy a use of forest green, when she saw a man holding up a white sign with her name on it, just like in a movie. Which was good, she did not recall him at all, which meant he was not a resident when she was visiting regularly as a child. He was, she thought, the most unremarkable person she had ever met, any less remarkable and and he would have faded into invisibility right in front of her. His eyes though, looking directly into his eyes gave her the sensation that his soul was looking out of them, that were was some extra spark behind his otherwise uninteresting irises. She walked up to him. “I’m Liesel Bohm,” she said.
He held out his hand, “Gideon Gauner, town emissary, pleased to meet you Liesel. Your chariot awaits.” He took her larger bag from her and led the way to the front circle where the valets were having a fit. Liesel laughed out loud. The so-called chariot was a beat up Chevy pick up truck that was at least a couple of decades old and had seen much better days, and worse ones. It had once probably been an overall golden beige but the luster coat had long since bubbled and burned off. There were bronze stripes running along the sides but they were chipping and peeling off. The tailgate looked like it had been long gone as well but the there was a built in tool box that was large enough to hold one of her bags. Gideon opened the door for her and she climbed in and shoved her backpack to her feet. The air conditioning was sluggish and the tinting on the windows was bubbling but the engine sounded beautiful when Gideon turned the key.
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sp; Liesel watched him carefully for anything that might give away what type of being he was but he seemed normal, which was itself odd in her world. “So how did you get the chauffeur job, Gideon?” asked Liesel.
He smiled as he navigated the exit lanes and onto the expressway. “I get a lot of the out-of-town assignments. If not me, then my brother does them,” he answered.
“Oh?” said Liesel, trying to sound nonchalant. “Why is that?” Something about him called to her, made her feel comfortable and at ease around him.
His smile turned into a grin, still keeping his eyes on the road. “I suppose I just have a way of dealing with strangers easier than most of the other residents,” he answered.
Liesel huffed.
Gideon still didn’t react other than that huge grin. “Admit the curiosity of not being able to figure out what I am is driving you crazy and I’ll give you what you need.” He responded teasingly.
Liesel grinned herself then, “I give. I can’t figure out what you are and curiosity always gets the better of me.”
Gideon changed lanes then glanced her way, pointing a finger at the glove box. “In there.” He said.
Liesel opened the glove box and found one of her grandmother Gertrude’s Stewardship logs, the current one, there should be a whole library of them at the farmhouse.
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