by L M Adams
Saabir says something to her in Coptic and she looks at me wide eyed before she takes off in a run, back the way we’d come.
I chuckle, “How many do you have?”
“I’ve been blessed with two older sons. Shani was a gift given special to us from Ishtar, we did not think my wife would catch again, she is well into her summers.”
“You only have one mate?”
He nods, “Yes this is rare in our culture, but sometimes the heart only sings once.”
“She’s obviously going to be Isis, like you,” I nod towards the direction Shani ran off to, before I go to get the glass of wine he’s poured for me.
He pulls down a few clay pots as he nods, “I wished one of my sons to be Isis, learn to ply the healing arts for those that are not so blessed by the gods. But all their hearts would sing of was Atum and the glory of the soldiers.” He shakes his head, “Shani came out more like me, sorry to say, hardheaded and soft bottomed.”
I laugh and take a sip of the wine… the flavorful bloodwine rolls over my tongue, heady and thick.
“Bloodwine?” I ask in shock.
He nods, “At times I am visited by the cursed ones, and they enjoy it. I make it from my own blood – cruelty free and given with a free heart.”
It feels a little odd drinking someone’s blood… out of a glass, right in front of them. I nod my head, “It is wonderful, thank you.” It would be rude as all hell to say otherwise, but I don’t need to lie, it may be the best bloodwine I’ve ever had.
“Do they visit often?... the nosferatu?”
“They are always present; they do what they can to move about unnoticed.” He goes to look for something at another shelf, seeming caught in his own thoughts, “I cross paths with them in my work.” He waves for me to sit down at the table and I do so.
“How so?”
He glances back at me as he pulls a scroll from a shelf, “I have things that can ease a body into the transition between life and death… they ease the spirit.”
I sigh, “They don’t seem welcome here.”
He turns to face me and brings the scroll over to the table, “It is not so much of them being unwelcomed… more of a taboo to be around one – unless you have done an evil and need a cleansing or are close to death.”
“You mean they take the sin of another?”
He goes to gather his clay pots, “Yes, so that a soul may go to Sekhet-Aaru.”
“What?” I ask confused, “Only a Blood Lord can take the sin of other vampires.”
He looks at me equally confused, “Yes, he sits in judgement of those souls that have been consumed by the cursed ones; he who sits on the throne of the dead is the final judgment of sin.”
“We drink blood, we don’t take the sin of people, we commit sins against them,” for some reason I feel myself getting upset. “We are the ill-begotten children of Eve and the forked tongue devil Azazael.”
He nods, “Now I understand, yes, you speak of the names to come… of different incarnations. But you do not understand the histories of what was,” he turns away and goes to another shelf. He runs his long fingers across the spines of the books, until he finds the one he is looking for, and pulls it from the shelf.
The book is large and old, more of a tome than a book really, it reminds me of the Book of Thoth. My curiosity piqued, I follow him over to the long table as he sets it down and opens it. The language is the same as what I’d seen in the Book of Thoth, a mix of hieroglyphs and Coptic and other things I cannot name – as if this was written in a time when language was still new and encompassed all with a different understanding than what we have today.
He stops a few pages in and begins pointing as he reads, “And when the sun was young and the earth, moon, and sky just birthed, the god of the blue sky who was known as Set looked down upon the earth and saw one whose name would be Nephthys. She was good and pure and whole and knew of the giving heart and the care of others. She who knew how to make a place a home for a wandering spirit to rest. Set saw her and desired a home for he was given dominion over the sky but no body of matter to call his own. He visited upon her three times in her gardens and carried with him the black flame of knowledge that gave understanding of the universe and the wonder of space. Under the light of the moon of the third night they would be joined, and he visited upon her ever more. Their love would beget a child and his name would be known as Anoup,” he glances at me, “You may know him by the name Anubis, the jackal headed god of the underworld and the dead.”
He flips the page and there in living color is Anubis… the jackal headed god. The portrait is done nicely. Anubis with a jackal head, his body the shape of a man but covered with black fur. He’s adorned in gold and holds in his hand an ankh… a symbol of life.
“What?” I almost hiss.
“It is he who guards the realm of the dead, the place known as Sekhet-Aaru, he who has the power to decide what spirits will be allowed into the palace of eternal pleasure.”
He points to another part of the picture that has a scale on it, one of the older styles with two dishes dangling from a single bar secured with golden chains. “Those beings with sins too heavy to be granted passage to Sekhet-Aaru were given to Osiris to face a different trial.”
He flips the page and another picture is there, this time of Ra on his boat – Meseket, the evening boat. Just like the one we rode to Atum in. My heart pounds in my chest… because that boat is in Vayrá, or what I know as Vayrá or something very close to Vayrá.
“When Ra travels on his boat to Akert, the place of waiting, and visits the dark love of Anubis, he and their love gives life and grace to those chosen by Osiris to be returned to the land of living so that they may have another chance to make their hearts lighter than a feather. And on the boat Mandjet, Ra and those spirits return to our world, bringing with it the power of the sun once again.”
He flips another page, “Yet Osiris wished to know of the love of Ra and so set about dethroning the Lord of the Underworld, and so Anubis would fall, and Osiris would rise. When Set heard word that his brother Osiris had deposed his son, Anubis, from his kingdom; he killed Osiris in a fit of rage… it would be Isis who remade Osiris using the power of Khonsu and gave Osiris new life.”
He flips to the back of the book… it’s written in the common tongue, the ink still new – in terms of the overall age of the tome.
I read the rest for myself as Saabir leaves me to go finish preparing to heal my wounds.
When the earth was still young, it is said that Set would fall for a woman named Nephthys. And again he would love her and again they would have a child. Like the day he fell when his name was Azazael and her name was Isis and give her knowledge, like he did before. And again he will love, and her name shall be Eve and his name shall be Samael and again they will have a child and his name will be known as… Cain. And Cain will sin and kill his brother Able, and so Ra shall curse him and cast him from grace to live and rule the harsh deserts and will pay upon him the sins of his father, and his father, and his father, and curse him to not be reborn with a chance to make his sin clean or to earn peace. And so his descendants shall carry the original curse, to live a half-life for until the blood is clean once again – and be neither of this world or the next and no peace in either.
The next part goes further into the prophecy that I know as vampire lore. The stuff my grandfather on my mother’s side once studied… it says when Cain dies, he will find no boat to ferry him to the afterlife or from it, no fields of Sekhet-Aaru. He shall still be cursed, still with no grace to be found from Ra; and so Neoma will gather the parts of his soul… his Ba and Ka and Akh – and make him a new man in a new place and that place would be known as Vayrá and he will be known as Adamah. Vayrá, a place for the souls that could find no grace, and no peace, and no forgiveness from Ra for being born to the wrong father and to have sinned against their god.
For all of this judgment, Ra knows of his own sin, he fell for the love a wom
an when his name was Atum her name was Ishtar and he and she birthed many beings of power to walk in the world of man, more than men, more than what creation had intended to create. And man became angry that they were no longer the most beloved and wished the power of gods for themselves. They had the knowledge of the Black Flame, but no power to put it to use. Man knew of sin – of jealousy and hatred and covetous but most of all… war. And so creation decreed for man to come to an end, but Ishtar had still loved man, they had given physical form to the hearts of the gods. And so she and Atum bade Ra to save them. Their quest was joined by Horus and Set and Nuit, Sobek and and Osiris and Keb and Anoup… and many others by many names from many lands and many memories and they fought against the ones who wished to carry out the end of man and this time would be known as the Fall of the Faithful.
The battles raged and scarred the very earth with power as god slayed god and man slayed man. The mortal heart of Gaia was waning, her lands torn, ocean waters made to blood and her innocent creatures left to die. The war would come to no end and so Ishtar and Atum and Isis would join with their beings of power – the moon, the sun, and the earth – and split the world in two. One for the gods and their legions of scion… what we call supernaturals… to live upon the place that is known as Ra’suá and another world known as Terra for mankind who they loved too much to end.
“I’m ready to start on your back,” Saabir says softly.
“One moment,” I keep reading.
The splitting of the worlds cost the old gods much and many fell sway to the call of the sunstone turning to stone, entrapped by the power of time. Others simply faded from the world, but a few found a way to remain in the realm of man by shedding their power and taking on the flesh of mortal beings… waiting for the chance to set their brethren free and reclaim their place among their creator.
I look up at Saabir in shock, “This cannot be true.” I whisper to him, searching his features.
He sighs, “It is as true as any other story, told in any other book, by any other man.”
I look back down at the tome… true or not, it makes me wonder yet again, what exactly it means to be a vampire.
125
Jack – The children of Blood
Saabir has me lay out on his dining room table as he works on my back. I fold my hands under my head to cushion my bruised and battered face from the hard wood. Lucien likes me pretty after all.
The old healer keeps up an even chatter, but my thoughts are lost in what I just read.
I was always taught that we were the cursed children, there is no discrepancy there. What I never wondered about, however, was what we were supposed to be.
Potential… vampires always have unrealized potential. Never amounting to what we were supposed to be… myself included.
I sigh.
“I can feel your turmoil, brother.”
I huff, “I’m not usually so transparent.”
“There is no need to hide here, we are family, speak on what troubles your heart.”
“In all these versions of the children of Set… we always seem to be the villains.”
“You must remember that most of the stories we have are the tellings of the children of Ra.”
“You think they are lies?”
“I think there are shades to the truth, and context matters.”
“What possible context could there be for my people to always be the villains? Always the evil of the world.”
“I have known villains to do great things and heroes to do wicked evils.”
“Then that defies their very definition.”
He sighs, “Our Raja – hero or villain?”
“Hero,” I say it easily because I know it to be truth… he’s the most honorable man I’ve ever known.
“So you say he has never done a wicked thing? Never let rage fill his heart? Never lost faith or been untrue?”
“He’s not perfect… but overall… he’s good.”
“Mm hmm… and you, hero or villain?”
I huff, “Villain.”
“So you say you have never done a kindness, spared a life, given of yourself all that you had?”
“One kindness doesn’t erase a lifetime of evil.”
“Nor does one evil erase a lifetime of good.”
“What about more than one evil?”
I watch as he pours some liquid on a clean cloth, “That would not be for me to judge.”
He pats the cloth on my back gently, it stings… but it isn’t so bad.
“The cursed ones, are they more good, or more evil?”
He flashes a smile, intent on his work, “I guess that would depend on who you ask.”
“I’m asking you.”
He looks into my eyes for a moment… “Good.” He looks back at my wound, “Would you like to meet one?”
My heart thumps in my chest, could I meet them? Why not? I feel a burst of nervousness, but mostly a desire to learn more about my people from this time.
“Yes.”
He nods, “Then so shall it be.”
My mind and heart wanders as he cleans my wound again. I have to accept the fact that I may not understand what it means to be me. Being here threw me into a sea of uncertainty and what is a man that does not understand who he is?
Saabir’s daughter, Shani, returns with a large cloth-wrapped bundle in her arms. Saabir talks to her in hurried Coptic as she unwraps the bundle and sets smooth black stones on the table along with a pestle and mortar and a handful of dried herbs and flowers.
“Go and change into one of your pretty dresses for the celebration.”
“Aabe,” she whines low.
“The gardens will still be there after, Shani. It is important to spend time with people as well… they are also living creatures.”
The young Shani is adorable as she dramatically drops her head, her dark locs intertwined with vines swinging forward. She drags her sandal clad feet to go and clean herself up so she can join in the Solstice celebration.
He looks back at me with a sigh, “Daughters.”
I smile and let myself wonder if Angelica would have been as perfect.
“You will need to be still yes?”
“What are you going to do?”
“I am going to age the wound, but I have to be careful and precise or I will end up necrosing the surrounding tissue.”
“You can control time?!” I ask in surprise.
“Manipulate would be a better word,” he puts the herbs in the mortar and begins grinding them down.
“The only beings I’ve known that could do such a thing is a druid,” and I don’t keep my disdain from my voice.
“Is this the new word for time dwellers?”
I sigh, “They are very secretive, I don’t know much about them. We had a bad run in with a hora – a group of druids. They were stealing the lifeforce of crows to extend the life of purebloods.”
“What is this, crows and purebloods?”
I give him a short explanation of the difference in crows – humans turned vampire, and purebloods – a vampire child born to a vampir and a vampiresa.
“You rip souls from living things and keep the body alive?”
“Enough of our venom given over the course of three days induces a fever – if the human survives, they are reborn into a crow. But they… the crows, aren’t right.”
“How so?”
“No one is meant to live without a soul, it turns them murderous, evil… cruel. A madness usually overcomes them if they are not kept in check by a pureblood and form a communion of power in a clutch – what we call a grouping of vampires.” I sigh, “Oddly enough, my grandfather made the discovery of creating crows because he wished to find a way to give a vampire their soul back, all of it. To make us live as humans again, to keep our people from fading.”
“In trying to do good, he did an evil?”
“A great evil,” I whisper.
Saabir hums a bit in his throat and holds out the mortar
instructing me to put a bit of the crushed herb under my tongue. I do as I’m instructed and lay back down.
“Close your eyes, brother, let the herbs do their work.”
I exhale through my nose and close my eyes, relaxing. He begins placing the smooth black stones on my back and shoulder. Making a circle around the wound.
When the smell of peppermint comes, I open my eyes for only a moment and see his palms begin to glow with golden power. He has the runes of power tattooed into his flesh… my eyelids become heavy as the astronomical clock appears, glittering with burning shimmers – large cogs begin to turn, pushing other gears into movement… I feel time slow and then stop.
My body stops working, the herbs doing their job. My mind is still awake, yet I cannot move an inch… I can’t even flex my pinky.
I hear the clicking of the dials as they begin to move again – faster and faster until they mimic the sound of a hummingbird’s wings.
The pain is unimaginable.
I can feel my cells split apart, duplicating, I can feel my flesh grow and pull and stretch, I can feel my pain receptors catch fire and my mind screams but my mouth doesn’t make a sound.
Perhaps the madness of time visits me, because I feel an eternity pass me by as I lay on that table until finally my mind cracks under the pressure.
“Let go,” Saabir whispers and I do exactly that.
126
Jack – Keb
“Brother,” a gentle prodding on my back, “are you with me, brother?”
I inhale deeply, realize nothing hurts anymore… well at least not my shoulder, my sensitive bits and my leg still aches.
“Up you go,” Saabir helps me sit up on the table, swinging my legs over the side… I’m still out of it enough to whimper with pain when I would usually prefer to put on a braver front.
“Your leg?”
I nod, eyes still drowsy from the herbs… “And my rose, I need something for the rose… he’s insatiable,” and I even sound depressed to my own ears.
I love that Lucien loves having sex with me… but honestly, I was hoping Jaevia’s return would give me a break. He complains about Nassor, but Lucien is just as much of a horny toad.
