by Elena May
“I no longer felt the pain of my wounds. I ran to the stables like a man possessed. At least the horses were still alive. I mounted one and rode off, not caring who saw me. I rode through the busy streets, but everyone was occupied with their own tasks, and, in too many cases, with their own grief. My whole beloved city was one big open wound.
“My throat tightened when I found the door to my home wide open. I jumped off the horse and ran inside, my guts twisted into a knot.
“I nearly stumbled into a pile of white and gold lying on the ground, and, unable to stop in time, I had to jump over it. I stopped and turned back, and my blood left my face when I saw it was Desislava, lying facedown. I knelt next to her and carefully turned her over.
“A bright red wound was on her chest, the blood soaking her white dress. Her blue eyes stared past me. I sobbed and raised a shaking hand to close her eyes. I laid her gently down and stood up on unsteady legs.
“I walked down the corridor as if in a dream. My mind had shut down—it could no longer process what was happening. I saw more bodies on my way, my guards, my servants, and Roxana’s mother, who had come to help with the household while we were away and had decided to stay for a few more days to spend more time with her grandchildren.
“I kept walking, as if unable to stop, as if my legs had a will of their own and were carrying me wherever they pleased. On my right was the door to my father’s sickroom, left ajar.
“I stopped. A lump formed in my throat, and my head spun. I touched the door and gave it a gentle push, and it opened fully, revealing the scene inside.
“My father and mother lay on the floor in one last embrace. She who had been against this rebellion, and he who could not understand what I had chosen to do. They who had paid the price for my arrogance, for my foolish belief that I could change the inevitable course of history.
“I leaned against the wall and retched, but my stomach was empty and there was nothing to throw up. I struggled for breath and ran away from this room that stank of death.
“I ran forward, seeking my bedchambers, although a part of me wished to run to the woods and hide and never come back. I ran through the gaping doors and stopped at the foot of my bed.
“On top of it lay my heart, my little girl, my nine-year-old Asmara, in a sky-blue dress that made her look like a small child. A wound ran across her small chest, so deep she was nearly cut in two. And next to her lay Roxana, my love, my wife, my life, my everything.
“I tried to scream, but my throat no longer worked. I held her in my arms and begged her to speak to me, to come back to me, over and over again. I was certain that if I begged long enough, and fervently enough, she would somehow hear me. She could not be gone. It was simply not possible.
“Strong hands gripped me from behind, so small, barely larger than a child’s. ‘Come. You need to leave,’ a voice said, the sound clear and beautiful as a bell. Something was wrong here, but I could not comprehend what it was. Surely, I had to be trapped in a bad dream or a vision, for none of this could be reality. Yes, it all made sense now. I was still in the mountains, next to Roxana’s ritual fires. I had fallen into a trance next to her and was witnessing a possible future that I had to avoid. Roxana would pull me out of the trance at any time, and I would go home to my family.
“‘Come,’ the voice said again, soft and gentle like a caress. ‘The Khan’s troops will come back.’
“I realized what was wrong. How could these hands be so small and yet so strong? They gripped me as if they were iron shackles, and I could not move.
“‘Let me go,’ I said. ‘I have to wait for Roxana to come back to me. She will pull me out of this dream and will take me back home.’
“I heard a sad sigh behind me. The hands released me, and I felt strong, thin arms around my throat. I tried to struggle, but they pressed on tighter and tighter. Roxana’s lifeless body was the last thing I saw before the world turned to black.”
“I woke up in the woods, tied to a tree. A fire burning next to me was the only light in the starless night. And next to the fire, dressed in red, stood Callisto, the strange woman I had met what seemed like lifetimes ago.
“‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘There was nothing I could do, for I never interfere in the affairs of men. All I could do was save you. The Khan’s troops were coming back.’
“Save me from what? From where? Memories returned to my tortured brain, figments that must have been a part of a bad dream. ‘Bring me back,’ I demanded, my throat raw.
“She knelt in front of me. ‘You are not listening. The troops are returning to bury the dead. The Khan ordered them to do it. The dead of each house will go in one barrow. They will be buried with all honors, according to your custom—facing the rising sun, with their weapons and their horses’ heads and legs by their side.’
“A darkness fell over my soul. ‘They are burying Roxana? They cannot! She is not gone. She will come back to me. Let me go!’
“Callisto placed a hand on my forearm. ‘Your family is gone. All you can do for them now is live on and remember them when no one else will. Live on forever, until the end of the world itself.’
“‘I don’t want to live for a moment more,’ I said.
“‘You wish to die?’ she said. ‘Good. I will kill you. And then, I will grant you eternal life.’
“I was surely dreaming. ‘What happened?’ I asked this strange creature. Was I still up in the mountains, next to the ritual fires? Was she a vision from my trance? And how could I wake up?
“‘The Khan wished to eliminate all possibility of a new rebellion,’ she said. ‘He wanted to bring Christianity once and for all, and never let it be challenged again. He wished to end any further unrest before it had even begun. And to do this, he was ready to cut off a whole leg to heal a gangrened toe.’ She squeezed my arm. ‘All of the fifty-two boílas who rebelled had their entire households and extended families executed. This is why your family died. This is why your brother-in-law and your nephews died too—they were related to you.’
“‘No,’ I whispered, barely audibly. ‘No.’
“‘But you can live on,’ she said and stood in front of me, the fire illuminating her blood-red dress from behind. ‘You know I am no human. I am a creature of the night, and I feed off the blood of men. And I can make you just like me. Leave this death behind. Die as your family did and rise again.’
“What she was suggesting sounded no more unnatural than anything else that had occurred this night. ‘Good,’ I said. ‘I thirst for blood.’
“She frowned and shook her head. ‘No. I will not grant you this gift so you can have your petty revenge. You will gain superior strength, but you cannot use it irresponsibly. And you can never use it to change the course of the future. You can never kill leaders of men.’
“She had to be insane. And I was insane, talking to her. ‘You tell me you will grant me magical strength, and I cannot use it to kill Boris?’
“‘There are rules,’ she said. ‘This world does not belong to us.’ She gestured to her right, where the lights of Pliska flickered through the trees. ‘It belongs to them. We may enjoy it if we can, but we can never interfere or change it to our liking. We live in the fringes of society and always stay in the shadows. You cannot reveal yourself to humans. If you wish to fight in their wars for your own enjoyment, you can, but as a man, with a man’s strength. You should never use your abilities to shape the world into what you want it to be.’
“‘You wish me to live passively in the shadows?’ I said. ‘You wish me to let the current carry me whenever it will and never swim against it? Is this the life you offer me? You have seen enough to know this is not who I am.’
“She walked closer to the fire. It caught on the hem of her red skirt, and she watched it turn black. ‘I have, and I know you are not the kind of man to let history run its own course. But I believe you have the willpower to learn and change. This is not the life I offer you. This is the death I can give you.’<
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“‘I am already dead,’ I said. ‘It will make no difference.’
“She knelt on the grass. ‘Then I will give you this gift. But you must promise me you will never hurt the Khan and his family.’
“His family? Did she think I would harm Boris’s children to hurt him as he had hurt me? Who did she think I was? ‘As you say,’ I replied, not caring and not wishing to argue any further.
“She grabbed my arm and bit it. The pain that shot through me was sharp and surprising, and I gasped. She bit her own arm and pressed our wounds together. ‘Swear it!’ she said. ‘This blood oath may hold no meaning to you now, but it will once you become a vampire. Say it.’
“I shuddered. I wanted this torment to end. All I wished was to close my eyes and never wake up. ‘I will not harm the Khan and his family. I swear.’
“She smiled and bit my neck. I gasped and tried to fight it on instinct, but a strange sweetness engulfed me and I relaxed in her arms, letting her drain the life out of me. And when the light of the fire had grown dim before my eyes, and I was too weak to speak or move, she pressed sweet magic against my lips, and I devoured it as if it were the only sustenance I had ever known.
“‘Sleep,’ she said, and I exhaled a long breath as I heard the very last beat of my heart.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Shadow
“My first nights were a blur. Callisto taught me how to hunt and drink, and how to hide from the sun. She taught me how to survive, but I could not bear this existence. I could not bear learning and being good at all this. All I had wished for was death, and I was not dead enough for my liking.
“She said that as a newborn vampire I could choose my own name. I could keep the one I was born with, or choose a new one. I told her I was no one, a man with no past and no future.
“She told me she had saved my unfinished book from my house, and I could keep it and reread it if I wished, but I had no interest in this. After seven nights, I could no longer bear her help and told her I wished us to part ways.
“‘What you need is a fresh start,’ she said. ‘Let me take you to Rome. Let me show you the world and help you leave this place of pain behind.’
“Erniké would have loved Rome. ‘I have no desire to see Rome,’ I said. ‘I beg you, leave me. I need to be on my own.’
“She took my hands in her own. ‘I cannot leave you alone so young and inexperienced. I made you. You are my responsibility.’
“‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘The man you saw before is dead. I cannot be who you wish me to be.’
“She smiled. ‘Perhaps not yet, but you will find your own way. And I have all the time in the world to wait for you.’
“I looked at her—smiling, calm, and confident, sadness and understanding mixed in her dark eyes. ‘You won’t try to stop me?’
“Her eyes widened. ‘Never. My own sire tried to force me to stay by his side, and I have spent centuries running away from him. It is wrong. If you need to find your path, I have to let you go, but I have faith we will meet again. Remember the peak where Roxana sacrificed the wolf to see the future? No human climbs it at night. But I will. On the night of the next spring equinox, I will be there. And I will keep returning every two years until you are ready to meet me.’
“I thanked her, and we parted ways for what I believed to be forever.
“I became a shadow, neither living, not dead. I terrorized the land, feeding on the new Christian priests and on those of the boílas—now called boyars in the Slavic style—who had stayed away from our rebellion. But I kept my word and never touched the Khan.
“One night I drank a man in his home, but before I left, my eyes caught something on the table. His meal was unfinished—a baked rabbit with rice and a goblet of wine. I approached it with a sense of detached curiosity. Callisto had claimed I could still eat human food, and the taste would be the same, only more intense. She had claimed I could sense so much more now—the ground in which the vegetables had grown, the sun that had shined above them, the people who had picked them up. Slowly, I took a small piece of the meat and placed it in my mouth.
“I spat it out. It tasted like ashes, dry and harsh, and strangely hot, as if fresh from a funeral pyre. I fell on my knees, retching. Nothing would ever taste good again. I had lost all joy, all meaning, all purpose.
“The world around me changed until I could no longer recognize my home. Churches appeared in every town and every village, and everyone went to hear the sermons. Boris had won his battle, and almost everything he had hoped for had come to pass. And when the disciples of the brother monks Cyril and Methodius fled persecution, he gave them shelter and resources to continue their work.
“The Slavic people had their own alphabet, and it was taught to everyone—nobles and commoners alike. Scholars even translated the Bible from Greek. A new common language emerged, and everyone in the realm spoke it, but although they called it Bulgarian, it was completely Slavonic, with the Bulgar words far and between. My language—the tongue in which Roxana and I had shared our love, the tongue in which Erniké had debated with me topics big and small, the tongue in which my father had taught me what it meant to be a good man, was becoming extinct.
“Boris failed in only one thing. After a few more years of machinations, he secured an independent church, but all sermons were still in Greek and would remain so for centuries to come. And yet, people flocked to listen, whether they understood the language or not. This foreign religion held a strange appeal that forever remained beyond my grasp. I had underestimated it, and this had led to my downfall.
“I lost track of time. Had months passed since I had lost everything, or had it been centuries? Every night was the same—kill, drink, look for shelter for the day. There was nothing bigger, nothing to give me purpose. But then something happened that brought me back to the present.
“I heard that Boris had decided to retire. He would give up his throne, become a monk, and spend the rest of his days in a monastery. And the throne would go to his firstborn, Vladimir-Rasate.
“Something I had long thought dead flared in my unbeating heart—hope. I started talking to the humans I met and learned that over twenty years had passed since my family had died. Vladimir was no longer a young boy, but a grown man. Would he stand by his beliefs from decades ago? Would he stay true to the promises he had made to a few men long dead?
“He did. He persecuted clergymen, declaring them agents of Byzantium. He burned down churches, and I laughed and cried as I watched the flames consume these temples that had grown on my family’s grave. He did all in his power to restore the faith in Tangra and our old ways… and he made a complete mess out of it. Vladimir was the exact opposite of his father—all passion and no cunning, all heart and no mind. A great man, and a terrible ruler.
“He could not strengthen his position, and just a few years after his coming to power, Boris left the monastery and dethroned him. He burned his son’s eyes with hot iron and threw him in a dungeon, from where he never emerged.”
Sissi gasped. “His own son!”
“His own son,” the Prince said softly. “Boris was determined to secure the new Christian faith, no matter the cost. After this, he returned to his monastery and left the throne to his third son, Simeon. Simeon was just as cunning and capable as his father, perhaps even more so. Sadly, the same was true for his dedication to Christianity. The realm flourished under his rule and became a true empire. This new realm, that was no longer my home. The place where I had grown up had become foreign to me. There was nothing left for me there, so I decided to take the road and follow it wherever it took me.
“I walked on and on, with no purpose or direction. People of the West often said that all roads lead to Rome. But this was the East, and so my road took me to Constantinople.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Reborn
“Constantinople. Opulence and squalor, gold and blood, mixed in one large pot and spilled all over these green shores. Lu
strous horses, pale as silver or dark as tar, pulled gilded carriages over the cobblestones, narrowly avoiding filthy beggars in threadbare clothes. The smell of so many people, activities, spices, overwhelmed my vampire senses. The city smelled of life, which only reminded me that I no longer lived.
“I fed on a man I met in a dark alley and made my way to the Bosporus. The narrow strait that connected the Black Sea and the Sea of Marmara was filled with ships. I gazed across the water and at the opposite shore—this was where Europe ended and Asia began. Perhaps I could cross the Bosporus and keep walking on and on until I found the end of the world.
“Many taverns were open along the shore, filled with sailors even so late at night. I took a seat outside and ordered stuffed calamari and a goblet of white wine. It was all for show—I could no longer enjoy the taste of food, but this would give me the opportunity to sit down and watch the many ships, coming from distant lands. I wished to be on my way again at next nightfall, and perhaps I could pick a ship to board.
“The sky was beginning to turn a soft rosy-blue. The sun would be up shortly, and then I would need to seek shelter. My gaze wandered across the ships. Did I want to visit any of these lands? Venice, Galicia, the Abbasid Caliphate, the Emirate of Córdoba—all ships I was seeing came from states either Christian or Muslim. Was that all that was left of this world? Was there a place where I could run away from it all?
“A strange ship, long and very narrow, caught my attention. I had never seen anything like it. It was symmetrical—the front and the back identical, so that it could sail in either direction without turning. Twenty rolling benches were on each side, and a single rectangular sail, in red and white vertical stripes, stretched across the high mast in the middle.
“I tore my gaze from the ship as a blond-haired slave girl brought my food and wine. The calamari looked appetizing, covered in a golden-red sauce, decorated with parsley and lemon slices, with the small purple tentacles on the side. Erniké had tried them when we had come here with her decades before. If only she could try them now. If only she could be next to me, talking and laughing. Alive.