Children of the Night

Dracula's Account

Burgeoning clamor rent the night in twain and drew closer, the sound escalating to indignant cries and grumbles as the sight of the small mob became apparent through the mist. Armed with torches and pitchforks, bedecked in peasant garb, and enhanced with an uncommon amount of absurdity, they were a perfect flock of fools, the lot of them. The scene was positively medieval; very easily could I persuade myself that this all too familiar vision was occurring centuries prior, when I scoured the unforgiving roadways for a need they could not understand. The times had changed but not the people. Human nature does not change, it is ever the same�obstinate, inexorable, fearful and hateful of anything beyond comprehension.

Kelantha�s sharp intake of breath recalled me to the present, where she stood over the still living (although motionless) form of her prey. All my contempt for the asinine villagers and protective instincts were centered in her, the bride espoused to my dark realm, yet also my child, for I alone was responsible for the rebirth of the radiant creature in the moonlight. Her regal poise never faltered, though her eyes sought mine for instruction for the precarious dilemma on this, the eve of her first feeding. To an experienced vampire the villagers posed few real dangers; but without practice, without defense, and no exercised skill with her new abilities, the vulnerability to which Kelantha was prey stoked my already rising anger, a flame far more volatile than any the villagers could wield.

Releasing my hold on my lifeless victim, the youth�s body crumpled heedlessly on the road: a younger version of his father beside him and quietly oblivious to the mayhem that had shattered the stillness.  

�Leave them,� I said sharply as Kelantha bent toward the inert figures. �The villagers will recognize victims of a vampire bite and will know what must be done to prevent them from rising again, as one of our kind.�  

�What must I do?� came her urgent whisper. Quickly she clasped one white hand over the gold ornament round her neck, as if its concealment had absolving powers.

�They will search the wood,� I answered, scanning the barrier of trees that stretched for miles, �but they are not aware of what you have become, to our advantage. No blame can be placed upon you if you tell them what they wish to hear.�

�How can I know what they wish to hear?� Kelantha pressed further, the tranquil resonance of her tone giving way to dread.

�Cannot you sense it?� I asked insistently. �Do you not feel the emotions swirling in their midst? Close your eyes and surrender yourself to it, Kelantha�you shall see their intent more clearly in silence than in their words. I must not be seen by them, but once you have soothed their vanity, slip away and I will come for you.�

Vague assurance had resumed her composure and her aspect as Kelantha took an advancing step toward the crowd, whose pompous activity ceased suddenly at the sight before them. Of my own presence nothing was visible save an impenetrable mist at a slight distance, where I could observe those who would condone a bloodbath of greater excess than that which they sought to chastise.

Murmurs swept through the huddled mass as they recognized�the Spaniard. Though there was a striking difference between the ethereal beauty before them and the foreigner from abroad, not a single peasant had forgotten her identity�nor whose guest she was.

�It would appear,� Kelantha began steadily, in her flawless English, �your land of enchantment is one of danger as well.�

�One never can trust appearances,� replied the foremost villager grimly. I recognized him as he moved forward�Stefan, the proprietor of the only tavern Bistritz could boast. He could not afford to be an aggravation now, not with his own family nervously awaiting him in their modest home. Stefan, Stefan,take care how you address my prized one!

Stefan�s demeanor visibly changed as he looked up at Kelantha. �Don�t you fret over it, miss. No harm shall ever come to you in these woods�he will certainly see to that.�

�He?� Kelantha echoed sweetly, gliding through the group smoothly. With very little effort she had managed to secure her impending escape: a path cleared between the villagers, who stared at her in open fascination, mesmerized by the ineffably musical tones of her voice and the bewitching fix of her smile.

�The boyar whose guest you are,� Stefan explained, tearing himself away from the captivating gaze before him long enough to examine the fallen victims.

�You should appeal to your sovereign if there is anything amiss,� Kelantha continued, no longer facing the peasants who had so painlessly become her pawns but searching the clearing for my silhouette.

�Ah!� came a soft retort. �Our good count is most actively involved in our situation, to be sure!�

The bodies were awkwardly lifted as the villagers turned in the direction of the township once more, the excitement of danger ending with the sobering reality. A few parting glances were cast in Kelantha�s direction, but only Stefan advised, �Return to the castle, miss. We will look after all that is left.�

�I bid you good evening, then,� Kelantha replied, lifting one hand in amiable farewell. She drew her cloak closer and turned to depart, but a sharp gasp stopped every proceeding. The unmistakable gleam of the necklace she wore had been seen, not only by Stefan�s dazed visage but several prying, alarmed eyes. The spell was instantly broken, and discarding the victims, the multitude rushed forward. Kelantha�s arm was hastily seized, the necklace scrutinized, and judgment pronounced within moments.

�She is one of them! She is the dracul!�

One of the rare women in the crowd was caught in a swoon, while the rest were content to fasten gazes of disdain on the lovely creature trapped in their midst, whose entrancing smiles could work no magic now. Kelantha sternly freed her arm and looked back at them coldly. The angry exclamations were interrupted by Stefan�s objection: �No, my friends, you are mistaken! She is not what you fear!�

His words were lost, unheeded, as the weapon I had come to scorn was produced from beneath a tattered coat�the stake.

Instantly Kelantha stiffened; while I felt myself expanding at first sight of it, rapidly changing into that image of horror and fearful majesty that had been used against my treasured one, wrought by fury at their audacity. If it was the devil�s wrath they feared, they would do better not to provoke it. Wolves stirred in the distance, a threat the villagers had been prepared for but forgotten in their present frenzy. They rose in packs as I summoned them, overcoming their instincts to answer my call. Wake, children of the night�heed the sound of your master�s voice and do his bidding!

The burst of silver colored fur flashed from all sides, surrounding the villagers as they had dared to surround Kelantha, snarling and pursuing those who ventured to seek safety among the trees. All that remained of the pitiful mob stood in the pathway, frozen as I descended upon wielder of the stake and delivered the blow that knocked the breath from his body. I had already fed but there was one who had not: my faithful servant, as he was. I heard him approaching and watched delightedly as the realization crossed the faces of the scattered few left behind. 

�Werewolf!� was the startled cry, followed by a sprint that ended gravely for them. The snapping and crushing of those mighty jaws silenced all other sounds, the deadly appetite not satisfied even with the hapless souls freshly consumed. I indicated the last peasant on the road, stake still in hand. �Feast.�

Viewing Kelantha, a very human expression of shame filled the predatory yellow eyes, the massive gray head averting its gaze. The fleeting emotion was unnoticed by the one who inspired it, for she drew closer to me as I swirled my cloak around her. Well might have the incident unnerved her, but there was no fear in her voice as she asked, �And now?�

�Now we fly.�

We took flight, rising into the midnight sky transformed and triumphant. There was pride in Kelantha�s aspect, an understanding of the Gift as she unfurled her wings with authority, savoring the rush of the wind beneath and the heights above. The castle loomed in the distance, a formidable yet welcoming vision after the events of the evening, but the descent to the great entrance hall did not discourage the charm of novelty. Kelantha retained her shining bearing after we resumed our human appearances. In one small and unexpected movement, she tentatively touched her lips as I took her cloak from her, holding her hand out in the candlelight and staring at the bloodstained fingers.

In a moment it was all disregarded�the piquant taste of the nectared liquid, the exhilaration of flight, the fulfillment of partaking in the legacy belonging to me, which was now in her possession. Reborn being she may have been, but in that moment, awareness struck Kelantha incessantly.

And suddenly she seemed only human, trembling with abhorrence, even as the immortal eyes filled with inadvertent tears.    

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