As Alexander Corvinus prepared for explosion and oblivion, he mentally recited part of Tennyson’s poem, "Tithonus," about a mythic Greek loved by the goddess of the dawn. He sought immortality, but forgot to ask for eternal youth:
The woods decay, the woods decay and fall,
The vapours weep their burthen to the ground,
Man comes and tills the field and lies beneath,
And after many a summer dies the swan.
Me only cruel immortality.
Consumes: I wither slowly in thine arms,
Here at the quiet limit of the world,
A white-hair’d shadow roaming like a dream
The ever-silent spaces of the East,
Far-folded mists, and gleaming halls of morn.
So glorious in his beauty and thy choice,
Who madest him thy chosen, that he seem’d
To his great heart none other than a God!
I ask’d thee, ‘Give me immortality.’
Then didst thou grant mine asking with a smile,
Like wealthy men who care not how they give.
But thy strong Hours indignant work’d their wills,
And beat me down and marr’d and wasted me,
And tho’ they could not end me, left me maim’d
To dwell in presence of immortal youth,
Immortal age beside immortal youth,
And all I was, in ashes....
Alexander Corvinus heard his own voice repeat the words – “Immortal age beside immortal youth, and all I was, in ashes.” The first immortal opened his eyes to the Ziodex logo, and he knew that his strange life had been spared in an even stranger universe. In a moment of crystal clarity, he addressed his many times great-grandson:
“What survived?,” asked Corvinus.
“Your hand,” answered Michael, “the one with the signet ring.”
Corvinus glanced at his ring for confirmation. “You’re not content to be a vampire/lycan hybrid,” he teased. You aspire to be Frankenstein, as well, boy.”
“I aspire to be practical,” asserted Michael.
“Pactical,” laughed Corvinus. “Cloning immortals is practical, now, is it?”
“It is, when the oldest immortal ‘s powerful memories are stored in his surviving D.N.A.,” informed Michael, “along with the Mother Virus.”
“So, the virus isn’t in my blood?,” asked Corvinus.
“Blood is the transmission agent,” answered Michael, “but the virus affected you on the genetic level.”
“That answers how, but it doen’t tell me why,” decided Corvinus.
“We need a mentor,” continued Michael. “We need someone to teach us about power. Selene followed orders for 600 years, and I’ve followed her for the past four months.”
“Why should I help you lead,” asked Corvinus, "when you regard me as a failure for not leading a sword through my sons’ entrails?"
“You’ll help,” answered Michael, “because life is purpose. If you didn’t want the purpose of communicating, you would have found a way to kill yourself, already.”
“Point taken,” said Corvinus. “Very well. Lesson One – True power does not have to be enforced. People will love you or hate you, but if you hold true power, they will accept you.”
“So, Marcus killed you,” reasoned Michael, “because you weren’t wielding true power.”
“Correct,” said Corvinus. “I was hitting Marcus with the past and expecting him to stay down. I realize, now, that wasn’t power; that was pride.”
“Your pride doesn’t excuse his god complex,” said Michael.
“Which brings me to Lesson Two,” continued Corvinus. “Mass murder creates a power vacuum. Destroying one group in a quest to create another leads to rebellion and instability.”
“Integrating vampires, lycans, and future hybrids into one large coven,” said Michael, “would destroy too many people’s identities, creating the infighting we want to avoid.”
“Precisely,” answered Corvinus. “You’re better off expanding the existing structure with separate regional covens for each species.”
“It’ll mean that Elders give up hibernation,” mused Michael. “The representatives of one species can’t be expected to field the problems of the other two, alone. Plus, we’ll need a neutral Elder to mediate disputes.”
“There it is,” thought Corvinus. “Michael has trapped me with no logical reason to refuse.”
“You’ve no logical reason to refuse,” echoed Michael. “After all, you’ve been a study in neutral for 800 years.”
“I’ll accept the charge on one condition – We define the term ‘Elder.’ If we continue with the accepted meaning, I’m the only one left. If I’m seen to be grabbing for supreme rule, we’ll be no better off than we are, now.”
“Perception is the same as action?,” asked Michael.
“Perception is the difference between having your head cut off with a sharp sword or a dull ax,” responded Corvinus.
Michael paled. “Maybe, we should go with another title altogether, like ‘Councilor’,” he suggested.
“It’s good to know that at least one of my descendants doesn’t have a death wish,” thought Corvinus. “Something of all I was will finally brush off the ashes.”
Alas! for this gray shadow, once a man–
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