Born or Made

Chapter 1: The a*******n

Capry dropped her book bag on the floor when she entered her living room. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched. Quite frankly she felt it was a real possibility after the day’s strange occurrences. She was a bit flushed and short of breath. She took a moment to assess the state of herself seeing as she’d felt like she was suddenly coming down with a severe strain of the flu.

She made her way to her bathroom, and turned on the sink, letting the water run for a moment. She had always found the sound of running water soothing. She splashed her face and took a few sips directly from the faucet before letting the water run over her. She felt too hot, like her insides were boiling.

She stood up straight, looking at herself in the mirror, and took a step back as she came into view. Her normally hazel eyes were demonically black, like two coals floating in a sea of white. Her veins appeared to be popping out of her skin slightly, and seemed to be twitching. It almost gave the illusion that she was indeed boiling underneath her skin. She started wondering if maybe Seph wasn’t the only one who needed medical attention. She was beginning to feel like she’d been poisoned and was now dying. And she was so thirsty.

She drank more water before she started stripping down. Anytime she had a fever, Kathy would tell her to take a bath and hydrate. Her head was pounding painfully and she was finding it hard to sift through her thoughts.

Now, only in her underwear she wandered through her dimly lit home. She was going to grab her cellphone and call her mother, but half way to the living room forgot what she was doing. All she could focus on was her thirst and her steadily increasing temperature. She couldn’t seem to catch her breath and she wasn’t sure if it was her anxiety or if her throat was physically swelling shut.

Capry entered her back yard, the crisp winter air hitting her burning skin. She was surprised steam wasn't coming off of her as the flecks of snow kissed her lovingly.

If she was going to die, she wanted to die in her favorite place. Capry felt her rubbery legs carry her across the yard but couldn’t figure out how she was doing it. She reached the twisted old tree that stood proudly alongside her house. Over the years it had been trimmed in such a way that it was now extremely easy to climb to access the roof. Even the feel of the pointy stray branches scraping against her skin was comforting. She took in the welcoming scent of damp wood.

Capry shakily pulled herself up, branch by branch, until she could finally step onto the flat roof of her home. She could feel the tiny pebbles and tar through the thin layer of snow that was beginning to stick. She weakly dropped to her knees and rolled over onto her back. The sky was a soft pink color as the snow came down in thick fluffy flakes that landed gently on her, allowing a small amount of relief from her discomfort. She took a deep breath and briefly closed her eyes, feeling the snow beneath her.

Soft footsteps could be heard somewhere near her. Even in her strange stupor she knew something was amiss. Why would someone else be on the roof with her? Her eyelids felt so heavy that she was afraid if she let them shut, they may never open again. Even though her vision was beginning to blur she could make out the dark cloaked figure standing over her. The same figure she had seen earlier that day.

“Am I dying?” she asked. “Is that why you’re here?”

The creature stood over her like an omen of death and remained silent for what felt like an eternity.

“You’re changing,” he murmured. “Growth hurts, child.”

“Who are you then? If you're not death?” she asked. She tried to sit up to get a better look at him.

“I wish we had time for introductions, but you see, the clock starts ticking the moment you take your first drink,” this creature said. He resembled a man but there was something about him that seemed older than time. It was perhaps the absence of both age and youth simultaneously. His skin seemed thin and transparent, like an elderly person, almost waxy. But also hard like stone. Like polished marble carved with care. His appearance was ethereal. He made Capry feel like she was stuck in a trap. It reminded her of a book Kathy used to read to her when she was small. There was a little ugly duckling that got stuck in a frozen lake. In her worsening state, she was the duckling.

“Are you the Devil?” she asked, her voice coming out much higher than she meant it to. She inwardly cursed herself for taking her last shreds of dignity and letting them dissolve into her fear.

To her surprise this creature laughed a rich, friendly, and oddly comforting laugh. It was the kind of laugh adults let out when a child says something innocently naïve. It was oddly reassuring.

“Some may say we’re descendants to the King of the Underworld himself, but you will not be meeting him today. However, we are about to be late for our departure. We must hurry. The veil is closing,” the creature drawled. He bent and effortlessly scooped Capry out of the snow. His strength seemed to vibrate from somewhere deep inside him.

He leapt from the roof with Capry securely in his arms. The last thing she saw was the floor open up and swallow them whole.

***************

“Athanatos,” the Grand Blood Sorceress Acara nodded in his direction as he entered her chamber. She was a small, hourglass shaped woman standing in the center of a circular table that was missing the middle, surrounded by five empty chairs, each with a black and red candle next to the name plaques of the five Elder council members.

Athanatos dropped to one knee and saluted her properly before he took his place in the center of the circle with her. He may have been retired many years now from the Grand Sorceress' army, but was still one of the fiercest warriors she’d ever had and was her most trusted advisor. Especially since keeping their coven thriving had seen some unexpected challenges in the last decade.

“The rest of the Elders should be here shortly. Would you like some wine?” Acara offered, smiling warmly at him.

“I am fine, Acara, thank you,” he said politely.

She poured herself a glass as her table became full. All five elders either shuffled in or materialized from thin air and sat quietly, waiting to be sworn in.

Acara stood and slit her palm open, walking counter clockwise around the inside of the table, touching each member briefly. As she touched them, they also slit their palms and made a fist over their candles, squeezing a small amount of blood into the hollowed out center in the wax. A thin thread of golden light could be seen, connecting them all. “Silas, Virgil, Veranda, Ira, Dahlia, and Athanatos, welcome, and good evening,” she greeted. She placed her bleeding hand on a large leather-bound book.

“Good evening Grand Sorceress,” they all said in unison. The golden thread vanished, as all five candles erupted with a sizzle, completing the spell. They were bound in silence and secrecy. It ensured that anything said in official council meetings stayed private.

“It seems we have a bit of a development on our hands,” she stated simply. Acara had never been one to beat around the bush. Athanatos liked her better for it. “Would you like to fill everyone in, Athanatos?” she asked politely. He cleared his throat.

“This afternoon a rip was made in the veil,” he began. “As you all know, I’ve been assigned the task of tracking down what or who causes these tears, and then handling the situation accordingly.

“When I located the cause of the rip, I discovered that it was a newly spawned female fledgling. From what I gathered she accidentally triggered the change and has no prior knowledge of what she is. She’s probably fifteen or sixteen years old.”

All five Elders stirred thoughtfully, meeting each other’s eyes. No doubt they were exchanging thoughts amongst themselves.

“The time is not right for this. The year has already begun and the newborns have been selected,” Elder Veranda spoke first. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her. Veranda was one of the eldest at the table and she was traditional in her practices. If asked she would tell you the old ways were the only way. “She’s a bit old to be completing the change. Maybe too old to be taught our ways.” Newborns were usually around ten years of age when their gifts started manifesting. A lot of times, depending on their bloodlines, it was even sooner than that. It wasn’t common for a newborn to inherit their gifts past the age of ten. If they were a late bloomer it was cause for alarm and generally an embarrassing thing for the family. The oldest fledgling in Vampire history was thirteen for Born Vampires. Capry Ramos had broken that record and had needed blood to trigger her change. Things tended to happen differently outside of the veil, especially for mixed vampires.

“Age has nothing to do with ability, Veranda,” Dahlia purred disapprovingly, clicking her cherry red nails on the polished wood. Her voice was sweet and high, almost like a child. Her personal fashion tended to bounce between the 1920's and 1950’s when she wasn’t adorned in official council robes. She was probably at least 600 years old with vibrant red hair and green eyes. And although she appeared to be a ditz upon one’s first inspection, she was anything but.

“Purity does,” Veranda snapped, the deep frown lines at the corners of her mouth becoming impossibly longer. “Why did it take so long for her transition to begin? You found her in the human world, did you not, Athanatos?” Veranda asked. Everyone in the room knew what she was implying and there seemed to be a collective sigh.

“Along with countless others for hundreds of years,” Dahlia sang in irritation. “And as I must keep reminding you, not a single living being that has ever existed has asked to be born. Nor have they ever had a say in what they’re born as. Mixed vampires are not born just to spite you.” This argument was timeless. Over the course of many years the Elders had debated whether or not they’d admit one newborn or another into Vhladévara, the Academy of Blood Sorcery. It was usually put down to a vote. Sometimes it would take a few days, to as long as a month for them to come to an agreement. And although most of the Elders had evolved and become a little more accepting of changing customs, Veranda usually made the deliberations long and drawn out, depending on how stubborn she was feeling.

“Statistics have shown that fledglings coming from the human realm are more likely to have weaker abilities and a harder time adjusting to our expectations and ways of life. If they have one or more human parents. May I remind you, some of them don’t carry any of our magic at all,” Veranda said. “They’re just leeches. Even more useless than a Made Vampire.”

“Your prejudices are astounding,” Dahlia said, her voice full of awe.

“We can’t afford to be choosy,” Elder Silas broke in. He was the first of the male Elders to express an opinion for the evening. He was a tall vampire with dark hair, light eyes, and an incredibly long beard that he kept braided. He was a warrior that was still serving his Grand Sorceress. “You know tensions have been growing between us and our enemies, Veranda. Only allowing fledglings from our strongest bloodlines to hone their skills and learn how to practice our gifts is a luxury we simply don’t have. And honestly the fact that we are reproductively compatible with humans might be nature’s way of allowing us to thrive.”

“Did you not see what inbreeding did to the human's royalty throughout history?” Elder Ira murmured with a shrug. “Deformities and infertility. Mental handicaps. Genetic abnormalities. You name it.”

(There was a theory that latent vampirism was also caused by a genetic abnormality. But there were also creation myths that it was caused by a curse put on the son of the Devil. Athanatos wasn’t going to open that can of worms though.)

The Grand Sorceress nodded her agreement. Veranda scoffed loudly.

“Reproducing with humans produces abominations,” she snapped.

“To the rest of the magical world, we are the abominations!” Dahlia argued motioning to herself and the rest of the vampires in the room. She rolled her eyes. “Seems a little hypocritical to treat our own kind the same way the rest of the world treats us. You already know I’m going to vote her in, Grand Sorceress Acara. Just counter me already so we can get out of here, Veranda,” Dahlia said, crossing her arms.

“I request that we monitor her and make sure she even possesses any of the dark gifts before we admit her,” Veranda said. “I will not vote unless we do. And if she does not have any of our abilities or is below par, then she should be removed from the Academy. I don’t see why our precious resources should be wasted on a dud. She should have to prove she belongs here like all the other fledglings.”

“Typical,” Dahlia grumbled under her breath.

Elder Virgil finally spoke. His voice was quiet and stern. His energy commanded people to stop what they were doing to hear what he was saying. He was like a father that only had to look at his children to get them to behave, “And where do you suggest this child go? If she’s not allowed to stay here? She can’t go back to the human world in her state. She hasn’t been taught discipline. How will she know how to cope? You send her home now and she’s going to binge on every human she sees and shine light into all the dark corners of the world we like to hide in. I agree with Dahlia. She didn’t ask for this. None of us did. Turning her away at this point in her development would be morally reprehensible.”

“We’re not a charity,” Veranda said coolly. “Perhaps she’ll be able to find her own way on this side of the veil. If she stays here, she’ll only be behind. We'd be setting her up for failure, Virgil.”

Veranda softened a bit when she said Virgil's name. They were siblings.

“Like you said, she will show us that. It is not for you to decide. And as Silas has pointed out, we need all the capable hands we can get. I propose that if she does have the gifts she be admitted. We can tutor her and get her where she needs to be. When she triggered the change, she opened the veil. That’s already one of the prerequisites to be here. Only a Born Vampire can rip the veil. The whole point of this school is to create a safe environment for our kind to thrive in a world that already doesn’t want to accept us. Her Guardian may just have to put a little more care and time into her.”

“Who will she be assigned to Athanatos?” the Grand Sorceress asked.

Athanatos was not the only vampire that had been charged with the responsibility of collecting the young ones when they began their transitions. This was, however, the first time he had been assigned as the Guardian of one. He usually went out into the human world to round up stragglers and then pass them off to their Guardian until they were adjusted to their new environment and knew the ways of their kind. He was a vampire of many skills, awards, and honors. And a decorated warrior. You would not find him babysitting fledglings. It wasn’t his forte. As humans would say, he wasn’t a kid person. However, when the Gods' magic selected you to be a Guardian, you couldn’t exactly return the fledgling. He had never fathered any children of his own so this seemed to be the Gods’ idea of a cruel joke. Ironically, like the existence of vampires in general.

“The Gods have seen fit to assign her to me,” Athanatos sighed. The Elders exchanged several wide eyed sideways glances at each other, clearly unsure of what the proper reaction would be. Dahlia looked like she was about to giggle. Something she tended to do at inappropriate times.

“Are… are you sure it’s you Athanatos?” Elder Ira asked hesitantly. “…You?”

“Yes, me!” Athanatos said slightly offended. “Thanks for the vote of confidence!” he snapped. He was well aware there were much more nurturing options available for the poor newborn in the way of Guardians. He felt bad for her too.

“Wouldn’t this be your first fledgling?” Ira asked. “And a girl, no less?” Ira wasn’t helping.

It did seem ironic that the Gods would pick him to nurture a female late bloomer with no knowledge of what she was, at all. The older he got, the more he realized that there must be a plan for them. No matter how much the rest of the world denied them, they must fit in somewhere. It seemed to Athanatos someone was just floating around pulling strings and dictating his path. Cause the Gods knew he wouldn’t have chosen this for himself.

“I’m aware of the irony, Elder Ira,” Athanatos said, exasperated. Grand Sorceress Acara and Dahlia were smiling sweetly at him.

“I’m a strong believer that the Gods give us what we need. Not what we want, Athanatos. Perhaps you two need each other,” Dahlia smiled. “You’ll be a good Guardian.”

The meeting was concluded with the agreement that if Capry Ramos did indeed possess the ability to practice the dark gifts, she would have a place at Vhladévara. After the circle was closed and the Elders had dispersed, Athanatos exited the Grand Sorceress’ chambers and began heading towards the infirmary where his fledgling was being kept.

“Athanatos wait,” the Grand Sorceress’ voice entered his mind. He turned to find her standing in the wide doorway of her chambers. He doubled back. “I’m coming with you,” Acara said, shutting her double doors behind her.

They entered the infirmary a short time later but the Healer was no where to be found. Athanatos showed the Grand Sorceress to Capry’s room, where Healer Ivy was tending to the fledgling. She appeared to be removing the last of the girl's braces. She placed the wires in a dish beside the bed and gave an exasperated sigh.

“Grand Sorceress,” Healer Ivy gave a polite bow in greeting. And then addressed Athanatos. “I’m glad you’re here. This little one is having more trouble than I’ve seen in quite some time,” she said, a tinge of concern leaking into her tone.

Acara was studying Capry, who seemed so very small and pale in her bed. She was clearly very weak and… sick. Acara had only seen this a handful of times. It usually only happened to Made Vampires, but occasionally a Born Vampire struggled in the transition. It had a lot to do with their lack of exposure to other vampires and the quality of their first host. The rules were tricky to navigate when triggering a transition. Triggering was only used if a late bloomer was not transitioning on their own. And if the late bloomer was not around other vampires, they had no one to help them transition or to even tell them they were a vampire, which put them at great risk.

If the host didn’t give consent, it tainted the “offering.” Born Vampires didn’t usually use human blood to trigger a fledgling. Humans were weak. The blood they offered was sufficient when being used as fuel for spellcasting. It wasn’t enough to support all the changes that occurred inside of a transitioning fledgling. It was likely that Capry had drank enough blood to trigger the transition but not enough to complete the change. And even if she had drunk more, she likely would have killed her host and binged until the change was complete, killing countless others.

The girl stirred and brought her hand up, talking in her sleep. Acara was pretty sure the word she had uttered was “mom.”

“Did you find out anything about her background before you brought her here?” Acara asked.

“She became ill quite fast,” Athanatos said quietly. “And because of human intervention, I wasn’t able to extract her until nearly 4 hours after triggering. When I finally made contact she was lying partially clothed on the roof of her home and could barely keep her eyes open. We’re just going to have to wait until she wakes up.”

Capry’s eyes fluttered inside of her eyelids at the sound of her Guardian's voice.

“She’s going to need more blood,” Healer Ivy said simply. “Perhaps that might kick start the transition. It seems to have stopped completely.” Healer Ivy lifted up Capry’s top lip to reveal white gums and very human looking teeth. During the transition, Born Vampires lost their “baby teeth" so their fangs could grow in. They were retractable so there wasn’t much of a difference except that they were a lot sharper.

Healer Ivy then reached into Capry’s mouth and applied pressure to her canines. “They’re not even loosening up,” she murmured. “I’m going to call for a host. Please excuse me a moment,” she bowed formally to Acara and then left the room.

Elder Veranda said many ignorant things on a daily basis. One thing she tended to forget was that Vampire Hosts or as she liked to call them, duds, were incredibly important to the cause. They were used as blood donors and supplied more than half of the blood students used to fuel their studies. Without them they would likely have to use humans and that would cause many problems. Vampire hosts could not use the magic in their blood for spellcasting but that wasn’t because they didn’t have any. They often still possessed inhuman strength and made great warriors and were needed on the battlefield for a vast number of reasons.

Vampires were magical beings. Whether they were created by a curse or not. So, any vampire in existence had the magic in their blood. Since hosts never depleted their magic from spellcasting, they regularly had to bleed themselves. And that would replenish the students. Hosts had to occasionally feast on blood if they weren’t producing anymore. But it was a constant give and take. Vampires needed other vampires to survive. They were considered parasites amongst the other magical beings in existence but they were no different than any other creature. Everyone had to eat to stay alive. It was just their source of sustenance that was frowned upon. A common misconception was that they had to kill to stay alive. That they stole the years of their victims to become immortal. Most Vampire Covens were peaceful and did not kill. They only took what they needed, and as long as they fed regularly, they didn’t need to kill. They also enjoyed regular “normal” meals as well for a well-balanced diet. Humans ate other animals to survive. How were vampires any different?

When Healer Ivy left the room, Acara quickly slit her palm open and held it over Capry’s mouth. Athanatos eyes widened.

“What are you doing?” he asked. He quickly stepped into the hall as look out. It was forbidden for an Elder to feed a fledgling. It could cause a severe imbalance of power.

“Relax Athanatos, I’m done now,” Acara said. “Only a few drops. It should ease her transition. It’s been hundreds of years, but you must remember how painful it can be. It won’t turn her into a God or anything. Just a little boost to get her going.”

This was a gift that Acara simply didn’t give.

“Why for her?” Athanatos asked curiously.

“She has good energy,” Acara said simply. “And something is telling me this is the right thing for her. We have a shortage of light in our realm. I don’t think we want to lose this little flame. This stays between us, yes?” she asked.

“Of course, Grand Sorceress,” Athanatos said placing his fist over his heart. “Always.”

She smiled. “Take good care of this one. The Gods have placed her in good hands.”

Acara turned and exited the room. Athanatos took his place next to his fledgling and waited for her Host to arrive. He would be by Capry’s side when she woke.