The Blood Duchess

Chapter 3: History and Her's

”Dear Yyrdra, please pay attention to your lesson,” my mother begged me while I sharpened a branch with a rock. It wasn’t going so well nor were her teachings. I’m almost seven years old and would rather play predators and prey with my friends than try to absorb these words right now.

“I am paying attention,” I replied without looking up from my stick and stone.

“You’re paying attention to forest debris,” she mumbled and pulled the stone away from my hand.

I pouted as she continued her lesson from a collection of texts, “Continental Vymenia is a wide swath of land, home to over a dozen human kingdoms, empires, baronies and duchies that vie over the temperate domain. Their allegiances and desires are fickle and change with the seasons it seems.”

“What’s baronies?”

“A barony is a lesser kingdom ruled by a baron or baroness. They may or may not answer to a king,” she clarified, cleared her throat and continued, “They all agree that vampires are a scourge that must be eliminated and rally around this unifying prejudice on a whim. They also all forget that the existence of vampires is due to human actions just a couple centuries ago.”

“We’re a scourge? Is that bad?” I asked.

“To them, it is. To us, we’re just existing as fate and nature would have it,” she explained with a smile before grabbing my hands. I thought I did something wrong until she said, “Yyrdra, you are going to become a strong woman in a weak man’s world. I need you to never forget your importance and your power.”

The words sounded nice together but I pretended I understood what she meant as I smiled and nodded along.

“So, where were we?” she asked and found her place again on the old, crinkled parchment. “Yes, the humans forgot that we are their creation.”

“How? Did a mommy create a vampire in her belly?”

She tilted her head with a laugh and said, “Along those lines, yes.”

Perplexed, I let her continue with, “When the Sundering Horde arose from the trenches of the Cindermaw generations and generations ago, many beasts were wild, primal abominations that wreaked havoc without direction. Ugly, rotten, pimply creatures.”

I laughed at pimply.

“When an evil sorcerer emerged from the chasms, he led the necrotic legions against the human resistance. s*******r and darkness ensued and all hope seemed lost for Vymenia.

Something happened next, according to legend, that he did not expect. A woman so beautiful, so pure, was able to sneak past his defenses. Her radiance canceled out his evil and they bore a child together. This halfbreed became the first vampire, but he would never know his true origins.”

“So she did grow a vampire in her belly!”

My mother nodded and probably hoped I didn’t ask for more details.

She flipped to another page and read, “The Sundering Horde, including the woman who seduced a sorcerer, retreated to the depths for reasons unknown, and the halfbreed was left to fend for himself on the dangerous trenchlands without guidance. Scouts found him after the strange happenings and as he grew, so did his appetite.”

“What was his name?”

“Well, we don’t have the best library here in Mirewood but legends say his name was Vympyrica.”

“Vympyrica,” I echoed.

My mother resumed speaking but this time from her memory and not the papers on her lap, “As time counted on, the number of vampires grew. Humanity could never quite exterminate vampires fully, and unfettered violence went bump in the night. Tribes formed, wars waged and evolutions began.

There are five phases or ascension stages, levels, whatever wording pleases you. You are a huntress because you were born from my belly and I am a matriarch.”

I nodded along but kept my fingers active on the bark of my spear-to-be.

“When bitten and if the bite is held for a long enough duration, a person will begin changing into a vampire. This first phase, known as Shambler, does not always end in success. Some never arise and some never find a first meal, dying before they can even live again. If they make it through those trials, they are often mindless and only out for blood. Sometimes, another evolution occurs and they ascend to the next phase.”

“Huntress,” I whispered.

“Not quite yet. First comes Initiates for those that are bitten, Adolescents for those that are born. You are an adolescent, my dear,” my mother corrected.

“I am a huntress!”

“Not yet. In due time, fret not,” she smiled and patted my knee.

“Hunters and Huntressess are the most common of stages. Some nowadays naturally ascend from intiatiates while others earn a rite of passage upwards to this echelon. They are the backbone of each tribe’s population. When enough pleasure or pain is attained, a fourth evolutionary stage can occur,” she explained, hoping to stir my interest further.

“Like what?” I asked.

She coughed and said, “Well, extreme trauma or enjoyment spurs it. I, personally, almost died well before you were born and the evolution gave me the strength to survive.”

I pondered what will eventually cause me to ascend. I hope it doesn’t hurt.

“Well, good news is that upon ascending to a Matriarch or Patriarch, the affected vampire earns many benefits. They become more resistant to silver and sunlight and they require less blood to keep them satiated.

Matriarchs and Patriarchs also are no longer sterile and can produce offspring. It’s estimated that up to a third of the vampire population is now naturally born - a statistic that terrifies the humans. Life expectancy for this brood extends well past one hundred years.”

“How old are you?”

“You never ask a woman her age, Yyrdra,” she smiled and winked.

I frowned but kept quiet.

“I am fifty-six years old but to a human, I’d probably look thirty,” she finally revealed.

“Wow. What’s after matriarch?”

“Few as of yet have attained the last phase known as Everblood where immortality is granted. Time can no longer kill these vampires and the blood they require only needs to be replaced if lost to injury. Of course, human blood remains a delicacy and hunting most likely won’t cease. They are also said to be immune to sunlight which complicates mankind’s daytime complacency.”

“They don’t burn in the light.”

“I am pleased to report that they do not,” she smiled and looked out the window. It’s winter and the forest’s ceiling lets in more light than we’d prefer right now.

“Are there any other creatures that the humans hunt?”

“Well, boars, bears and deer but no. At least, not that we’re aware of. There are rumors of other beasts roaming the landscape but these myths have remained as such for now.”

“Like what?”

“The troll under a bridge is born from loose rock startling a wagon driver. A goblin in a cave is merely a hermit with bad odors. Men that shift to wolves are just nomads wearing the pelts of the very creature they’re blamed to be. Those that hunt at night with fangs sharper than steel and seek blood for nutrients are no simple bedtime story, Yyrdra.”

I tried to imagine all of the creatures she mentioned but they sounded too ugly for my innocent mind.

“Vampires are also more than just killers, and soon humans will come to understand this, for better or for worse,” she smiled and shuffled the papers into a neat pile. “How about we call that good for your history lesson today?”

“Please!” I shouted.

“Okay, go hunt your friends,” she smirked, offered me a kiss on the cheek and I scurried off to hone my hunting skills.

* * * * *

As my strength returned, I ventured through town on edge with Akisma at my side knowing full well a saboteur could still be out there. We passed by a barracks where warriors live and train. I’ve spent many exhausting hours sparring within its confines, often losing track of time. The sounds of training emanated from within and Akisma was in the process of asking me something.

“What? Sorry.”

“Are you sure you’re up for this walk? Your eyes are so vacant. I think you need a bite to eat,” Akisma comforted.

“I’m okay. I just need fresh air,” I sighed and folded my arms. I feel frail and vulnerable and she’s right, I do need a meal to hold me over. After the barracks, we passed by a blacksmith forging weapons and tools alike. His wares hung from hooks screwed into the awning of his shop. He eyed me from his anvil before letting his hammer fall against the steel for the thousandth time today.

As we walked by a livestock pen full of goats, Akisma said, “Perhaps a cup of goat’s blood will help you mend. They usually have something fresh every few days.”

“I’ve never been one for animal blood,” I countered and eyed the dozen goats bleating about from their yard.

“Likewise but you need something. You nearly died and you look pale. When your closest friend says that even you look pale, you might want to heed the comment ,” Akisma pressed. Her brow furled and concern flooded in between the crinkles. She dodged a ray of light sneaking through the forest canopy as I walked right through it. “Didn’t that hurt?”

“Did what hurt?”

“You just trounced through that sunbeam,” Akisma pointed out.

I looked over my shoulder and down at my arms to check for injury. I didn’t spend enough time in the sun for it to burn or blister but normally it’d redden briefly. I responded with a shrug, “I didn’t really notice.”

Further along, we passed by one of the town’s vintners who’s house is surrounded by grapevines. We do love wine and a barrel of it would surely be welcomed right now. Wine’s curative, influential properties help mitigate the effects of fresh blood deprivation.

Akisma finally said, “I’ve heard your mother’s story and your father’s. His story was more dramatic but I have not heard yours yet. I wasn’t in the chamber with you when it happened. What did it really feel like?”

“It hurt, Akisma,” I growled and put my hands in the pockets of my black, leather pants.

“Well, I know, but what did it feel like before it went awry,” she asked while toying with her thick braid of hair that nearly reached her buttocks.

I paused for a moment to find the right words as her eagerness grew. I kept my head straight but shifted my eyes towards her before saying, “Have you ever laid alone at noon during the winter when all the leaves are gone and all is calm in town because the sun is overhead?”

She shrugged. I’d probably answer the same if someone asked me that.

“When you hear nothing else except the thumping in your chest and your hands begin to wander with desire? Maybe it’s boredom or curiosity. Or even a habit,” I continued but she had no response yet. “Your hands meet resistance at first and maybe you need to slip past a belt or a few pairs of linens but your fingers find your delicate button between your legs and it tingles and it tingles and it tingles as you rub until a release so poetic, so soft that nobody else can recreate it for you?”

Akisma gulped and said, “Are you describing what I think you’re describing, Yyrdra?”

I nodded with a side-smile. “Yes, I am.”

“That’s what it felt like?”

I laughed with a closed mouth and said, “It felt like that a thousand times at once repeating and repeating until, well you know, it went awry.”

“Can you get me on the list of ascension leaders?” she smirked and we laughed about my choice of words for the candored tale until we reached the stables.

“I want to go for a ride.”

“It’s too bright out; you’ll burn,” Akisma reminded.

“I’ll wear my hood and a veil if need be,” I said with a tilted head as I pulled my sleeves down before entering the wide, wooden doors. This barn could house upwards of thirty horses which are used for all kinds of tasks - work, patrols, raids, joy.

Akisma followed me as I began saddling a horse that I’ve rode before with success. I could tell she worried and I couldn’t say it’s not warranted.

“This is unwise,” Akisma noted.

“It probably is but I need to get out of this town for the rest of the day. Someone tried to kill me, remember? Are you my chaperone or not?”

“Your father has guards tailing us. They won’t let you leave,” Akisma commented and pointed towards the barn’s exit. Truthfully I didn’t notice but I suppose trauma would mask certain things from the beholder.

“Distract them. Do that trick with your braid,” I smiled and unlatched the stall door.

“What trick with my braid?” she asked in confusion.

“The one you’re about to invent to distract the guards,” I smiled and motioned for her compliance.

“What?” she huffed and did not appreciate my playful shove towards the door. “Fine, but you owe me a spot on that list for ascension leaders so my, what was the word? Button. So my button can know poetry too. Okay?” Akisma growled with a reluctant flail of her arms.

“Fine then.”

Akisma pouted towards the barn exit and I gave her a minute before trotting out the door and towards Mirewood’s exit. Beyond that was a dangerous, wide world where the very sun could kill me before the locals did. I really hoped my impromptu gallantry wasn't permanent.