“Get those brats back to the pits,” she ordered Chaluxi, pointing to the Vambir children. She then lowered her voice. “When I return, follow my lead.”
Chaluxi silently nodded.
Mazja stood triumphantly to welcome Dracula onto the bloody battlefield. “Noble Prince,” she said, “the Vambir humbly present you with this victory.”
Dracula dismounted his horse, took her bloody hand, and kissed it.
“We are your soldiers, great Prince,” she said as she knelt before him. The rest of the Vambir followed suit.
“Rise, Lady Mazja,” he said. “You and the Vambir are hereby invited to share our home, and we appoint you as our personal bodyguard. Word of the Night Attack will quickly spread and still be remembered a thousand years from now!”
Upon hearing this, Dracula’s soldiers were jealous that these upstarts had been granted instant favor — favor they had been working for years to acquire.
“We will arrange a huge feast of celebration tonight at the castle,” said Dracula.
Mazja smiled as she gently shook her head. “Great Prince, we must go back to our camp, pack up our belongings, and then take our daytime rest,” she explained. “We would be honored to arrive at our new home tomorrow evening.”
“Of course,” said Dracula. “We will have much to discuss.”
*******
Once the Vambir had returned to the pits, Mazja waited until minutes before daylight to exact her revenge on the children.
“Deactivate the cloaking shield,” she calmly instructed Chaluxi.
Grabbing the two closest children by the hair, she hurled them outside the pit. Chaluxi motioned for Urit and the other Enforcers to prevent them from scrambling back inside. The remaining youngsters ran behind their distraught parents in a futile effort to escape Mazja’s wrath. With lightning-fast speed she snatched them up and flung them outside. When two of the mothers attempted to intervene, they found themselves cast out as well.
The Vambir who had given into their cravings on the battlefield began to shake as Mazja approached them.
“Reactivate the shield,” Mazja ordered Chaluxi.
“Behold,” said Mazja to the five, “this is what happens to traitors. From now on, you will take your place at the front of every attack we launch, and if you ever put your cravings above your duty again, you will meet the same fate as those outside.”
The Vambir silently watched through the shield as those outside were incinerated by the first rays of the rising sun.
*******
Dracula inspected the carnage left behind on the battlefield.
Ingenious...pretending to drink the blood of the fallen. My enemies will soon know what is in store for those who dare oppose me.
Before departing for the castle with Teodor and Iroto, he ordered the Amylas to impale the bodies of the enemy.
The sky lightened as the Amylas went about their morbid task. The snow was streaked with blood, and as the soldiers dragged the corpses from the field, the landscape became a smeared, pink sludge.
Eventually, they came upon the broken body of Fryhi. Still alive, but unable to speak, her mouth opened and closed as air passed through her ruptured lungs. As two soldiers lifted what remained of her, daylight broke and she burst into flames, along with the bodies of the other Vambir that Mazja had killed.
“Necuratu!” the terrified soldiers exclaimed — their word for Satan.
CONFESSION
Village of Velt
“Bless me, Preot, for I have sinned,” said Emanui. “It has been many months since my last confession.”
“How have you sinned?” asked Father Andrew.
“I have lost my faith,” she answered.
“What happened to bring this about?”
“My grandmother was visited by demons in her dreams,” she explained. “She predicted dire things were in store for this village. The night after she died, I began having the dreams she spoke of.”
“Bunica suffered terribly in her final weeks of life,” said Father Andrew. “I’ve heard many nonsensical things uttered by dying people in extreme pain. You miss your grandmother and are still grieving. It is common for recently deceased loved ones to affect the dreams of the bereaved.”
“I am being haunted by the…Strigoi!” whispered Emanui.
From behind the screen, she could see Father Andrew shudder.
“That word is forbidden!” he whispered. “It was agreed more than fifty years ago never to utter it again.”
“That was before both of us were born,” said Emanui. “How did you come to know of it?”
“My predecessor, Father Petros, told me of those unholy events.”
“Bunica was the last one remaining who lived through that time,” said Emanui. “She confided in me only when the Strigoi nightmares began. I did not believe her at first. She predicted they would return. It is coming true, Preot! The mysterious disappearance of everyone in Bazna is surely the Strigoi at work.”
“What do these…demons…look like in your dreams?” he asked.
“Deathly pale, with fangs like wolves. Mute. Slow-moving but steady,” she answered.
Father Andrew crossed himself.
“We are doomed, Preot,” said Emanui.
“Only without God are we doomed,” he assured her. “Your faith is being tested, and it is only through faith that you will find the strength to fight evil. Good always triumphs over evil. You must devote yourself to prayer each night before you fall asleep, and if you are haunted in your dreams, you must fall into prayer as soon as you awaken.”
“I will try, Preot,” she answered.
“You must do, child,” he insisted.
“What will become of our village?” she asked.
Father Andrew sighed. “Our solution to the curse has provided the greatest obstacle. I must compose a sermon that will break the taboo of over half a century.”
“They won’t believe you, Preot,” said Emanui sadly. “You’ll be mocked. I didn’t believe Bunica until I started having the dreams.”
“With God, all things are possible,” he replied. “I put my faith in Him, as you must do.”
“I will,” promised Emanui.
“Then peace be with you, my child, and go with God,” he said.
AWAKENING
Outskirts of Bazna
Kevak felt the rush of warm air as he opened the pod.
The new season has come!
The cloaking shield was functioning properly, and he checked the automated log to see if any Primitives or Vambir had triggered the proximity alert.
Nothing has approached the cliff.
Deciding it was time to find a large cave to call home, he climbed down to the cliff base and eyed the numerous openings above him. After half an hour of scouting, he detected an opening that was over three times the area of the crawlspace. Upon entering it, he was able to stand without touching the ceiling. He spent the rest of the night transferring his belongings from the crawlspace and generating a cloak for his new home. His task completed, he focused on plans to choose a site for planting the hemo-seeds.
If I plant the crop in the plain, once the red flowers bloom the Primitives will see it from a great distance.
Kevak rummaged through the trunk, found a wooden goblet, and walked to the mouth of the cave. After deactivating the cloak, he easily scrambled up to the flat clifftop and was greeted by the welcome sight of tall grass gently swaying in the wind. He paused briefly to look up in wonder at the starry night sky, just as he had done millennia ago as a child on Vambiri. Crouching down, he pulled a patch of grass from the soil. He used the goblet as a shovel to collect a sample and smiled when the scanner results concluded that this virgin, clifftop soil was far superior in nutrients to anything he and Chaluxi had previously discovered.
No Primitive eyes will see the red blooms if I allow the tall grass to remain at the edges.
He used his natural night vision to scan the surrounding countryside and coul
d detect the dotted forms of four-legged creatures grazing far away. Walking to the opposite side, he looked down and could see the water of a pond reflecting the moonlight.
Soil, water, and seeds — all that I need.
It occurred to him that he could use the lasgun to quickly dig out neat rows for planting the seeds, but the bright flashes might be seen by Primitives. Remembering that the trunk contained an ornately carved walking stick, he returned to the cave to fetch it and spent the remaining hours in darkness using it to plough the rows that would hold the hemo-seeds. When he was finished, he could see that the sky was beginning to lighten, and he would have to wait until the next night to sow the seeds.
The next night the stars were hidden behind clouds, and pockets of rain began to lightly fall on him. As he carefully placed the seeds into the ground, his heartbeat quickened with excitement. Using his hands to push the soil back over the seeds, he felt a keen sense of accomplishment. As he sprinkled the water he had collected from the pond, he took a last look over the surrounding landscape before climbing back down to the cave. Once inside, he gave into his hunger and consumed half a ration. As the sun began to rise, he fell into a deep, replenishing sleep.
*******
After two weeks, the hemo-sprouts had taken root in the fertile soil. Kevak had restricted himself to half rations and limited his physical activity only to climbing the cliffside to check on the progress of the hemo-crop. In spite of the new season, it still felt cold by Vambiri standards, and he donned the black cape to reduce the stress on his circulatory system. His time inside the cave was spent reading the books in the trunk.
He selected a biography detailing the works of three philosophers named Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. Kevak’s favorite was Socrates, who had a penchant for irritating the Primitives of his time by asking probing and sometimes humiliating, questions. The similarity to his own treatment at the hands of Mazja did not go unnoticed.
“The unexamined life is not worth living,” he read aloud, duly impressed.
This Socrates must have been an aberration.
He let out a sarcastic laugh when he read that Socrates had been forced to commit suicide by drinking a poison called hemlock.
Highcaste Primitives obviously didn’t like being told what to do.
When he read Plato’s Republic, he concluded that he must have been a pompous Highcaste due to his notion that a perfect society could only serve a king who was a philosopher.
How ironic that Plato was a student of Socrates.
Kevak smiled when he noted that all of Aristotle’s teachings had the central theme of happiness being the goal of life. He was surprised to learn that the down-to-earth Aristotle had been the student of the aloof Plato — Aristotle and Socrates would have made a better match.
“The Golden Mean,” recited Kevak. “Avoid extremes. Moderation in all things.”
Kevak was surprised to learn that Aristotle had been the boyhood tutor of none other than Alexander the Great.
Poor Aristotle, your star pupil must have been asleep when you discussed The Golden Mean.
Eventually, Kevak picked up the book that would lead to the attainment of a humanity that no hybrid Vambir could ever accomplish. His awakening began as he read the first page:
In the beginning when God created the heavens and the earth, the earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while a wind from God swept over the face of the waters. Then God said, "Let there be light"; and there was light. And God saw that the light was good; and God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.
“What’s this?” he murmured to himself. “A deity cult?”
Religion had been abolished in Vambiri’s distant past. There had been a time when Lowcastes toiled as beasts of burden and had embraced the notion that they were the chosen ones of a deity who would liberate them from the caste system. As the centuries passed and ushered in an era of technology, the plight of the Lowcastes improved to a point where they were no longer exploited physically, and their devotion to deity cults died out.
Kevak had found the opening chapter, Genesis, compelling reading. It told the incredible story of how the planet was created in seven days by an unnamed deity and how the first Primitive, Adam, had been formed from the clay. Kevak did not believe the literal translation of creation but accepted the possibility that the seven days could be symbolic of seven eras. Ancient Vambir stories also recorded historical events with cryptic uses of time, but except for the obscure Lowcaste deity cults, all Vambir were atheists. It was accepted that they existed for a time, and then they died. The closest concept to an immortal soul was the belief that the ashes of the dead nourished the hemo-fields that in turn gave life to the Vambir—‘The Infinite Cycle.’
Easily destroyed by a random catastrophe.
The story of Noah’s ark was eerily familiar — an entire planet destroyed by a natural disaster, and the future existence of a species depending on a single ship of desperate survivors.
Kevak found Exodus particularly intriguing — a struggle between Lowcaste Primitives to break free of the slavery imposed by their Highcaste captors. The Lowcaste named Moses exhibited great leadership skills that were inspired from his faith in the deity. This chapter finally revealed the deity’s name.
God replied to Moses, "I Am Who I Am. Say this to the people of Israel: I Am has sent me to you."
In the margin of the book, a Primitive had written ‘The Great I Am.’
“I—Am,” said Kevak.
Peculiar.
He spoke the name several times, and using the Vambir tradition of one name, he decided to refer to the Primitive deity as ‘Iam.’
“Iam,” he said aloud. “Navigator Kevak from the planet Vambiri wishes to become acquainted.”
As Kevak read The Ten Commandments, he recognized the same law and order principals that governed Vambir society with respect to the prohibitions against murder, theft, dishonesty, and adultery.
Kevak was particularly interested in the miracle performed by Iam that enabled the Israelites to escape from the Egyptians — the parting of an entire sea!
He recalled his own flight to freedom and how he had escaped the deadly solar rays.
It was nothing short of a miracle to come across the stasis pod when I did.
“Was it you who came to my rescue, Iam?” he asked.
He removed a tube of hemo-syrup from the trunk and raised it into the air.
“To you, Iam. The book of your cult, your ‘Bible,’ is most entertaining.” he said before consuming half the contents.
His Vambir ears detected a faint mewling. Deactivating the cloak, he looked out over the plain, and his night vision detected a tiny four-legged creature covered in curly white fibers.
A lost baby of his species.
Following the wandering creature in the distance were three of the ferocious, howling beasts whose red substance Urit had easily identified in the lab.
Kevak was overcome by a desire to save the helpless thing. The Vambir had pursued the Primitives in the same manner as the beasts who sought to it tear apart, and for once, he had the power to prevent it.
Grabbing a lasgun, he climbed to the bottom of the cliff and raced across the plain to intercept the youngling as the beasts were closing in on it. As soon as they saw Kevak, the beasts charged him. Three flashes of light briefly illuminated the plain as the lasgun vaporized them.
The tiny creature did not attempt to flee but merely looked up at him inquisitively. Kevak bent down and gently took it into his arms.
“Where is your mother, little one?” he asked as he stroked its soft, curly fibers. “You must be thirsty. There is a pond behind the cliffs. I’ll return you to your kind after you have had a drink.”
When he reached the pond, Kevak cupped his hand to collect some water and put it to the creature’s mouth. It greedily lapped up th
e water and cried for more. Kevak smiled as he set it down and watched it drink its fill from the pond. Fixated on the youngling, he had neglected to use his night vision to check for any other life forms. When he detected a flicker of torchlight between the trees, it was too late to avoid being discovered by shepherds searching for the lost lamb. What they saw struck terror into their hearts, and they shrieked uncontrollably in its presence. Startled at being discovered, Kevak ran away with a speed no Primitive could match.
*******
“Preot! Preot!” called the shepherds as they beat on the door of his cottage adjoining the church.
The preot lit a lamp and unbolted the door to find the shepherds accompanied by other villagers they had encountered on their way to report what they had seen.
He listened in disbelief as they described the grisly figure they had encountered. More villagers gathered outside the cottage as word quickly spread about what had happened.
“Let us go into the church and discuss this like rational men,” said the preot, seeking time to take in the story he had just been told.
Once the torches inside the church were lit and the villagers were seated, the preot addressed them from the pulpit.
“These two shepherds claim to have seen a demon tonight,” he began. “Stand up and calmly recount what you saw.”
The first shepherd, Nicolae, stood up and was noticeably shaking as he faced the villagers.
“Sorin and I were searching for a lost lamb,” he said. “We were just about to give up when we could hear it bleating. We saw several flashes of light coming from the same direction as the lamb’s cries. When we came upon the lamb, there was…”
Nicolae squeezed his eyes shut in a vain effort to clear his mind of the image.
“Go on, Nicolae” said the preot.
“From behind, it looked like an old man in a black cape,” he said. “It was crouched over the lamb. But when it turned around…”
Nicolae was overcome by emotion and paused to catch his breath. “It was no man!” he cried. “Its skin was as pale as the dead, and two great fangs came out of the center of its mouth. The head was long and narrow, and the ears were pointed. Instead of fingers, it had huge talons.”
The Nosferatu Chronicles: Origins Page 11