5
Nicholas walked beside Alec, the sprawling grounds of the estate unfurling before them in a wash of greens and browns, woven through with threads of morning mist. The air was crisp, carrying with it the scent of earth and the promise of rain. Alec moved with a cautious curiosity, his eyes absorbing the expanse of the world around him, yet a shadow lingered in his gaze.
Nicholas watched him, concern etched into the lines of his face. He thought it might benefit the boy to resume some normalcy, and taking in a bit of fresh air and sunshine was a constant in any time. He had noticed the subtle changes in Alec; the way his features seemed to have matured, very slightly, since waking. It was a physical manifestation of the tumultuous journey his younger brother had undergone—a journey Alec himself could not recall.
The silence between them stretched. Alec walked along, shuffling his feet on the grass, and striking an occasional kick at crops of mushrooms they encountered. Nicholas grappled with the weight of the truth, the reality of what had happened to Alec, and the delicate balance of protecting him from the pain of those memories. He did not know how to talk to his brother; not only were they no longer close in age, but they were also immortals. It was not an easy subject to broach.
As they walked, Nicholas finally broke the silence, his voice a gentle intrusion into the quiet. ”The past... it”s complicated, Alec. There are things that happened, things that you don”t remember.”
Alec turned to him, a flicker of confusion passing over his face before it settled into a resigned acceptance. ”I know I can”t remember everything. It”s like trying to grasp at smoke. But I trust you, Nic. If there are things I need to know, you”ll tell me.”
Nicholas nodded, the assurance in Alec”s words a balm to the unease that knotted in his stomach. But the responsibility of deciding what truths to unveil, and when, weighed heavily on him. How could he explain to his brother how he died—and everything Nicholas had done since that fateful day?
Their solitary walk was interrupted by the arrival of Sophia and Genevive, their presence a welcome relief in the tension that had begun to coil between the brothers.
Sophia’s hair was unbound and loose down her back, her cheeks flushed pleasantly pink. Her eyes met his and he could see the caution there, as if she, too, did not know what she should say to them. She mustered a smile, however, and Nicholas grinned in return.
“Hey,” she said. “You two missed breakfast. Leonard’s probably not happy about it. You know how he feels about the first meal of the day.”
“Yeah, that guy is a trip. I finished every bit of that bacon he put on my plate, I don’t want to get on his bad side,” Gen added. She stood close to Sophia, and Nicholas could not miss the protectiveness in her stance. He knew they were old friends, but he wasn’t sure yet if Gen was a fan of his. In all truth, he couldn’t blame her.
“He’s quite serious about keeping us all fed,” Nicholas grinned. “But I let him know we were talking a walk. He sent us off with a couple bagels.”
Sophia reached for him, tucking her arm through his. She looked up at him, one brow raised. “That’s really nice you told him, Nic. He only gets grouchy when he doesn’t feel needed, that’s all.”
Sophia”s eyes met Nicholas”s, and in them, he found a calmness that served to ease his rough edges. She leaned against him, shoving him gently, and he smiled.
“If you’re still hungry, Alec, I know the cook,” Sophia said, drawing the boy into their banter. Alec, who had been silently watching them from a distance, took a swinging kick at a stick on the grass and sent it flying. The boy cocked his head, eyeing them all.
“I’m quite full, thank you,” he muttered. The boy proceeded to pick up another long branch from the ground and stalk off in the other direction away from them, using it as a walking stick.
Genevive, with a curious look on her face, watched Alec go. ”He seems to be adjusting pretty well,” she remarked, her voice carrying a note of caution. Nicholas rubbed Sophia’s hand and walked a few paces toward Alec, unwilling to let his brother wander too far from his gaze.
“Seems to be,” he agreed. He watched Alec for a long moment, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “So what are you ladies up to today? Dare I ask?” he inquired, effectively changing the subject.
“I have some business to take care of in the city, but I’ll be back later,” Gen replied. “I asked Soph to join me, but I guess it’s better she stays here. You might need her help.” Gen’s gaze flickered in Alec’s direction.
He eyed Sophia. “You’re right, I’d rather Sophia stayed here.”
“Well, I wasn’t leaving anyway, so it’s a moot point,” Sophia replied. “I’ll see you when you get back. Be careful, Gen.”
Gen gave her a two fingered salute, bouncing her hand off her forehead and making Sophia smile. Sophia moved closer to Nicholas, her hand finding his once more.
As Gen left and they resumed their walk, the conversation turned to lighter topics, the laughter and banter easing the undercurrent of worry that had marked the beginning of his day. Yet, in the quiet moments, when laughter faded into thoughtful silence, Nicholas knew the questions about Alec would return, like shadows at the edge of the light.
For now, they walked together, the grounds of the estate a welcome escape. Alec skipped up ahead, finding his way to the rocky bank of the creek that winded through the estate. It was deep in some spots, shallow in others, and Alec found a low place where he could skip stones across a wide expanse.
Nicholas watched Alec, his gaze fixed on his brother”s lanky form as he effortlessly flicked stones across the shimmering surface of the creek. Beside him, Sophia stood quietly, her eyes also tracing Alec”s movements, a soft smile playing on her lips. The scene was deceptively tranquil, the creek”s gentle babble intertwining with the rustle of grass swaying in the afternoon breeze. For a moment, Nicholas was transported back to the carefree days of his childhood at Eastview Plantation, where the biggest decision of the day was choosing the perfect spot to laze away the hours.
The wide, shallow creek bed, with its smooth stones ideal for skipping, reminded him so vividly of those days. It was as if nothing had changed, and yet everything had. Back then, the world seemed boundless, filled with endless possibilities and adventures waiting just beyond the next bend. The innocence of those times felt palpable in the air around them, almost tangible enough to grasp with outstretched fingers. Nicholas half-expected to hear his mother”s voice, lilting and warm, calling them back to the house as the sun began its slow descent behind the horizon.
But reality was a stark contrast to the memories that flooded his mind. The weight of the years hung heavily on his shoulders, shadowed by the events that led them to this moment. Watching Alec now, so engrossed in the simple pleasure of stone skipping, Nicholas couldn”t help but wonder about the facade his brother might be wearing. Alec seemed so at ease, so in tune with the moment, but Nicholas knew better than to take that at face value. Was Alec truly finding solace in these small gestures of normalcy, or was he, like Nicholas, cloaked in a veneer of adaptation, masking the turmoil that churned beneath?
Sophia”s presence offered a semblance of balance that eased him. The gentle sound of water, the laughter that occasionally broke through the quiet, the shared glances between them—they were all fragments of something beautiful amidst the chaos.
Yet, as Nicholas observed Alec, he couldn”t shake the feeling of apprehension that settled over him. The tension between what was and what could never be again was profound, a constant reminder of the delicate thread upon which their current peace was balanced.
As they ambled through the dew-kissed grass, Bash approached with his characteristic ease, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. ”Mind if I steal Alec for a ride? The morning”s too fine to waste,” he declared, a twinkle of adventure in his eyes that Alec seemed to mirror with an eager nod.
”Can I go, Nic?” Alec asked, his voice laced with an enthusiasm that Nicholas could not resist.
“Sure, go on. Mind what Bash tells you, he’s the boss,” Nicholas replied. A wide smile bloomed across Alec’s face, and he eagerly nodded.
With Alec and Bash setting off towards the stables, he found himself alone with Sophia, the expanse of the estate stretching invitingly before them. They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the tranquility of the grounds enveloping them like a soft cloak.
It was Nicholas who broke the silence. ”I can see the wheels turning in your head. What did Genevieve say to you?” he asked, glancing sideways at Sophia, trying to read her expression.
Sophia hesitated. Finally, she let out a soft sigh. ”She brought up... well, the fact that I”m mortal, and you”re not,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Nicholas stopped walking, turning to face her fully. ”And what did you say?” he pressed gently, making every effort to push aside the worry he was certain was evident in the furrow of his brow.
Sophia met his gaze. ”I told her it”s something I”ve thought about, of course. But I also said that being with you, in the here and now, is what I want,” she confessed, her voice steadying with every word. “And I told her the same as I told my father—it’s my decision.”
Nicholas reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers. He wanted to be the man she needed, a man who supported her against all else, yet there was that part of him that wanted her to be immortal, like him, and he was having more and more difficulty keeping it in check. He took a deep breath, his words careful when he finally spoke. ”Sophia, I...” he began, struggling to find the words. ”I”ve lived lifetimes without you, and now that I”ve found you, I won’t let you go. Immortal or not.”
”Nicholas, I love you, and I choose this life with you, every day. I don’t care what my father wants, or what Gen or anyone else thinks, but I do worry what you think, how you feel about it. I can”t help feeling selfish sometimes, keeping you from a life where you might find... more.”
He shook his head, a small laugh escaping him, not of humor but of disbelief. ”More? There is no more without you. I wouldn”t trade a single moment with you for a thousand years without.”
In that moment, beneath the vast expanse of the late morning sky, he cupped Sophia”s face in his hands, his thumbs gently caressing her cheeks. The dampness at the edges of her eyes, remnants of emotions both spoken and silent, vanished under his touch. And when he kissed her, she smiled, warming him.
She bowed her head to his and they remained like that, entwined, with the creek murmuring its age-old secrets and the grass whispering under the caress of the wind. Time seemed to stretch and bend around them, a tranquility that shielded them from the world beyond. He needed it, and he was certain she did as well.
As held her, he felt a glimmer of hope. This was the beginning, he realized. It was not easy, nor was the path clear, but it was a future they could build together. For the first time in a long while, peace felt tantalizingly within reach.
Later, Sophia left to help Julius on the lower level, and Nicholas occupied himself in research with his uncle. In the dimly lit sanctum of Connor’s study, he found himself enveloped in an atmosphere thick with mystique. The room was a marvel of ancient craftsmanship, its walls adorned with ornate woodwork and wainscotting. Each panel seemed alive, inlaid with carvings of animals and gargoyles that watched over the room with silent vigilance. The wide, medieval-style fireplace, large enough for a man to walk into, crackled with a welcoming fire, casting dancing shadows that brought the inanimate observers eerily to life. But it was the secret room concealed behind a bookcase, revealed only to those privy to its secrets, that held the most valuable of treasures—volumes of ancient texts and manuscripts that chronicled the lives of the Blooded Ones.
“Did you find anything on that medieval battle axe I told you about?” Connor asked. Nicholas shook his head. As part of his contribution to the family, he agreed to work in research, and his newly assigned duty was weaponry records. The irony of having a day job like some normal modern man was not lost on him. Yet he had a new life now, and he resigned himself to trying his best to adapt.
“Nothing yet. I’ll keep working on it,” Nicholas replied.
“I’d love to get my hands on it. I hope you can turn something up,” Connor said.
“Yeah, me too,” Nicholas agreed.
Immortals, he discovered, were very serious about acquiring any objects made with a Bloodstone. Weapons forged by Blooded Ones were typically inlaid with runes, symbols, or spells, and each piece was crafted with intent. He had to admit, he did enjoy the research, and it gave him a purpose which he sorely needed.
Nicholas flipped through a text that cataloged the Bloodstone weapons known throughout time. As Nicholas’s eyes scanned the descriptions, he paused at the mention of weapons from the Vikings. One description was quite familiar to him, and he grinned.
“Find something?” Connor asked, peering at him over the rim of his reading glasses.
“Just a mention of Viking weapons. Brought back some memories,” Nicholas replied. He remembered the time he spent in the past, particularly at The Eastern Settlement, close to Erik the Red”s famed Brattahlid estate.
“You visited them?” Connor asked.
”I spent many years with them,” Nicholas replied, his voice tinged with the warmth of memories. ”My friend Olaf, he was a Viking unlike any other. He worked the forge, he made the finest of weapons. He was always looking for a new adventure, the next battle, the next journey, the next raid.”
Connor, ever the inquisitive scholar, leaned in, his interest piqued. ”And the Bloodstone weapons? Were there many in their possession?” he asked, his gaze never wavering from Nicholas”s face.
Nicholas paused, thoughtful. ”A few,” he admitted. ”They were acquired in raids, or through trade. Though not openly flaunted, I knew of their presence. There was one in particular, a dagger laden with stones and runes. I”m certain it”s the same one detailed in this book,” he said, gesturing towards the ancient tome open between them. ”I took it from a Viking warlord during a skirmish. Its power was palpable, even then.”
The room, with its shadows and flickering light, seemed to lean in, as if eager to hear more about these tales of ancient warriors and enchanted weapons.
Connor”s expression was guarded as he absorbed Nicholas”s story. ”Such artifacts are rare and dangerous,” he remarked, the weight of his role as Keeper shadowing his words. ”Their presence in the wrong hands...”
”I know,” Nicholas interjected, his voice firm. ”That”s why I liberated from that warlord. I gave it to Ivar and asked him to keep it for me should I ever return. So I could certainly go get it, if you think we should.”
Connor firmly shook his head. “You’ve been pissing off the other Keepers for centuries, Nicholas. The last thing you need to do is start jumping through time again. Besides, we have a retrieval team for that.”
Nicolas cocked his head, brow raised. “A team? Time Walkers doing your bidding?”
“Yes. We use them only sparingly. We can usually trace a weapon to the present day and acquire it through legitimate legal means, but on the rare occasion we can’t, we send the retrieval team,” Connor explained.
The more Nicholas learned about the immortals, the more he realized he would likely never know enough. So all the years he’d spent jumping from time to time, trying to change the events of the past, the Keepers had an eye on him and considered him a criminal for breaking their laws. Yet they had their own little band of Time Walkers, and their whole job was to jump through time and steal artifacts?
“So time travel is ok when it comes to getting what the Keepers want,” Nicholas muttered. Connor rolled his eyes, letting out a sigh.
“Time travel is not the problem, Nicholas. Altering entire timelines, however, is.”
As the fire crackled in the hearth, Nicholas found the discussion of the past consuming. The years he spent learning about what it meant to be a Blooded One, and how he might master the power of time travel, it seemed like another lifetime. He did not often allow himself to dwell on those things, as he wanted to be a different man now, not only for Sophia, but for his brother, as well. He had new duties to attend to in this new modern life, namely, learning to be a part of the immortal band of Keepers, and hanging onto the ghosts of his past could serve no purpose. He need only concern himself with the pressing concerns of their modern lives.
The discussion of Bloodstone weapons and time travel subtly shifted into the realm of immortality.
“By that same token, one might say the existence of immortality alters entire timelines. How many of us exist? I mean, do you just give it to any Blooded One who wants it?” Nicholas continued.
“There were hundreds before the Council of Keepers took control of the elixir. It was a gift that had always been bestowed with weighty consideration but now it requires the consensus of more than one immortal to grant. This safeguard ensures it was not offered lightly. Blooded Ones must earn this honor,” Connor stated, his tone somber, “and few have ever refused it.”
“Sophia refused it,” Nicholas said quietly.
The room seemed to grow smaller, the air tighter, as Connor’s shoulders sagged, and he sat back in his chair.
“Nicholas, I don’t think you understand,” Connor said, his voice laced with a sincerity that made it all the more compelling, “Sophia’s refusal of immortality... it’s unprecedented. She needs to reconsider. We—” he paused, choosing his next words carefully, “you need to talk to her. Persuade her. Are you really going to sit there and tell me you’re willing to watch her die, because she’s being stubborn?”
The very idea sent a ripple of unease through Nicholas. He shifted in his chair, the leather creaking softly under his weight. “Connor, it’s not that simple,” he replied, his voice a blend of frustration and despair. “Yes, I want her to take the elixir. But she’s made it clear how she feels.”
Connor’s gaze was unwavering, his eyes reflecting the flicker of the fireplace. “Nicholas, sometimes we need to lead the ones we cherish to the water. Whether they choose to drink is up to them. But not offering the water at all?” He shook his head slowly, “That’s a regret you don’t want to live with for eternity.”
Nicholas felt the weight of centuries bearing down upon him, the endless procession of days and nights that could either be shared with Sophia or endured without her. It was true. He wanted her to take the elixir. The temptation to beg her, to bribe her, to convince her in any way he could, was always there, pressing in the back of his mind.
“I can’t do that to her.” Nicholas’s voice was barely above a whisper, his internal turmoil spilling into the words.
“You did it to me. And to Alec,” Connor replied.
Nicholas bristled at that. He felt a flush rise up his chest, like a fist clenching his heart. “And I will never be able to atone for that,” he said, his strained reply low and careful.
Connor leaned forward, his expression softening. “I wouldn’t change anything about my immortality, even with how you did it. And Sophia will forgive you. She knows you. She knows your heart, your intentions. Damn it, do you know how many times I’ve nearly broken my vows and almost gave it to her myself? Yeah, I hate myself for it, but I raised her, Nicholas. I can’t just watch her die, knowing I could have stopped it.”
The room, with its shadows and artifacts of bygone eras, seemed to watch and listen, a soundless guardian of the countless secrets and burdens it had witnessed. Nicholas let the illicit thoughts smolder: the instinct to protect and preserve what was most precious to him against his promise to honor Sophia’s wishes.
As the fire crackled and popped, casting a dance of light and shadow across the room, he allowed himself a moment of selfishness, of imagining immortality with Sophia. The centuries they would share, the wisdom they would gain, it was a drug, an addiction, and he could not allow it to fester. His heart, however, was a stubborn thing, and it pounded in his chest as the image of the alternative came to the forefront of his thoughts—a short, happy, mortal life with Sophia on her terms, and then the utter agony of watching her die.
“If you won’t admit it to me, at least admit it to yourself,” Connor said quietly. “You want her to take the elixir as much as I do.”
Nicholas leveled his gaze on his uncle.
Yes, it was true. He wanted her to take it, for his own selfish heart. And he knew it was written all over his face.
Their deliberations were abruptly interrupted by Sophia’s entrance, her face stricken and red-cheeked. The tension in the room spiked, an invisible storm brewing as she glared at them. The look in her pained eyes spoke volumes. She heard it all.
As Sophia’s eyes met his, he felt the burden of shame, of crossing a line from which there could be no return.
“How dare you,” she whispered. Her voice gathered velocity, though he could see her shaking as she clenched her fists. “How dare both of you!”
“Soph—” Connor said, but she quickly stared her father down. Her nostrils flared, her eyes pained and vulnerable in her fury. Nicholas had never seen her that way, and he had no idea how to mend what he had broken.
“Leave us, dad,” she demanded. Connor raised a hand to touch her, and she shrugged him away. The older man bowed his head briefly, nodding in acquiescence.
“I’ll go. I’m sorry,” he said.
Nicholas took a deep breath as Connor left the room, closing the door behind him. Sophia remained still until they both heard the click of the lock snap into place, and then she turned on him, her eyes alight in her rage.
“How could you?” she demanded.
He did not try to touch her, afraid it would inflame her further. As the argument escalated, it felt as if a storm that had been gathering force over a distant horizon suddenly broke free between them, its arrival inevitable and shockingly intense. He felt the rise of anger inside him, suddenly exposed and raw, and the careful fa?ade he built to hide his basal nature fell away. With Sophia in his life, he wanted to live—and he could no longer deny the bitterness and anger at the knowledge he would lose her to mortality. “I would not do that to you. I know how you feel.”
“But you don’t agree with my choice,” she replied.
He stared at her for a long moment. “I accept it. But it is not what I want.”
“So you’ve been lying to me this entire time?” she demanded. Her voice trembled, her words a low whisper. He wanted to reach for her, but they were too far gone to end things with an embrace.
“I said I will abide by your decision, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to keep you with me. How can you expect me to just stand by and watch you die, when there is another choice?” he replied.
The pain in her response was palpable. ”Nicholas,” she said, her voice steady now, “Give me your hand.”
He obeyed. She was shaking, and so was he when she placed his hand on her neck. Her eyes bore into his, their anger matched and simmering.
”You don’t know what it was like for my mother. I do—and I saw what it did to my father when the Madness took her,” she whispered. “Look at me. Wrap your fingers around my neck, and look at me. Tell me that if the Madness comes, you will end my life. Promise me you will do it, and I’ll drink that damn elixir right now.”
He placed his other hand on her neck and slid them both upwards to cradle her face in his palms. His throat was tight, dry, and his heart hammered behind his ribs.
“Sophia—” he said. Tears sprung from her eyes. She shook her head, tearing her gaze from his as she pulled away from him.
“Hate me for it if you must, but I choose to live the life I have with you, for as long as I”m granted it, and die peacefully in your arms. I love you too much to put you through anything else.”
He watched her leave the study, each tap of her footsteps walking away from him like shards of glass piercing his heart.
The distance between them felt even more pronounced in the privacy of their bedroom. He undressed without turning on the lights, as she was already beneath the covers when he came to bed. The tall windows were open to the balcony, the curtains fluttering gently in the breeze. Moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow, highlighting the sounds of their evening routine, each task illuminating the life they shared and the precarious future that loomed over them.
He slid between the covers beside her, but she did not stir. He did not know if she was asleep or simply did not wish to speak to him, and he could not fault her for it either way. Although they were in the same bed, the space between them was a chasm, and he had no idea how to breach it.
With the truth now acknowledged between them, the thought of a future devoid of Sophia”s light was a simmering torture to him. Yet, he knew he would endure any pain, any hardship, rather than face a life without her. The small chance the Madness could claim her was enough to make Sophia refuse immortality. If he asked it of her, could he make that promise to her in return, to end her life should the Madness take hold?
Or was he too weak to face the consequence, when he demanded that she take the risk?
He had no answer, and he suspected none would come as he lay there staring at the ceiling. He quietly left their bed and pulled on a pair of pants and a tee shirt, intent to find some semblance of distraction elsewhere.
As he moved through the hallway, he noticed the glow of light beneath the crack of the door to Alec’s room. He pushed on the door, peering inside, and was surprised to see his brother sitting in bed, knees curled to his chest, wide awake. There was a book open beside him on the coverlet, but he was not reading it.
“Hey, why are you still up?” he asked. Alec cocked his head, a hint of a grin on his mouth.
“You’re still up, brother,” the boy quipped.
“Yeah, you got me,” he replied, uttering a low chuckle.
In the quiet of the room, where shadows danced along the walls in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, Nicholas sat on the edge of the bed, tucking the blankets around his younger brother with a tenderness born of years spent apart.
“You really should get some rest. Bash has a long day planned for you tomorrow.”
“Another day of learning about this place, you mean,” Alec replied. Nicholas heard the hint of frustration in his brother’s voice, and he was curious as to what was going on behind his guarded eyes.
“Well, yeah. It’s important to understand how things work in this time. I think you’ll grow to like it here,” he said carefully. “It took me some time to adapt, but I think you’ll catch on way faster than I did.”
“What if I don’t want to like it here? What if I don’t want to stay?” Alec asked. His lower lip was plump and quivering, and Nicholas sighed. The last thing he wanted was to make another person he loved upset, but it seemed that his very presence prompted distress for everyone around him.
“We’ve made a life here, Alec,” he gently reminded him, hoping it would be enough to stem the tide. It was not, and the boy was instantly upset. Alec, his eyes wide and searching in the dim light, clutched at Nicholas”s sleeve with a desperation that tugged at his heart.
”Nick, can we go see mother and father? Please?” Alec”s voice was a child”s plea and it sent an ache down deep into Nicholas’s bones.
His heart clenched at the request. ”Alec,” he began, his voice firm, ”we can”t do that. We’ve talked about this.” The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, a somber reminder of the realities that bound them to the present, to a world far removed from the one their parents knew.
Alec”s grip tightened, his frustration palpable. ”But why? We’re Blooded Ones, we can travel through time. Can’t we just go see them?” The questions spilled from him, his tone rising plaintively.
Nicholas shook his head. ”Maybe in time, Alec, I can’t promise you more than that. It’s not as simple as just wanting to see them. There are consequences, risks...” His words trailed off, the complexities of time travel, of their very existence, a burden he was loath to lay upon Alec”s shoulders. He did not know how to explain it to him without causing the boy more distress. You were buried, Alec, there was a funeral. We simply cannot show up with you, healthy and whole.
Alec withdrew his hand, a scowl forming on his youthful face as anger replaced longing. ”You”re just like the rest of them, aren”t you? Keeping me here like I”m some... some prisoner!” The accusation stung, more for its inaccuracy than its intensity.
”No, Alec, that”s not it at all,” Nicholas protested, reaching out to bridge the gap between them. ”It”s because I care about you, because we all care about you, that we have to be careful. It’s too dangerous to return to Eastview now. When you’ve grown older, it will be different.”
“What if I never grow older?”
Nicholas paused, grasping to convey how immortality worked in a way that the boy might comprehend.
“You will. Julius said you will age as the years pass, just as before,” Nicholas explained.
“Then we don’t live forever?” Alec shot back. Nicholas knew the concept was a strange one, and in all truth, it took many conversations with Julius before he truly grasped it himself, so he was not surprised the boy struggled with understanding. It was an unusual thing to become immortal at such a young age, however, so there were differences in what Alec would experience compared to what Nicholas encountered.
“You will age until your body reaches adulthood, and then you will stop. Julius says there is very little change in our appearance after that. You will never grow old. And you will live forever.”
Alec turned away, his body tense with unresolved anger and disappointment. ”Fine,” he muttered, though the word was anything but an agreement, merely a resignation to the limitations imposed upon him. “I’ll go to sleep now, I think.”
Nicholas stood, the distance between them feeling far greater than the few inches of space on the bed. ”Goodnight, Alec,” he said softly, though his words were met with silence.
As he left the room, closing the door softly behind him, he felt the weight of Alec”s anger, and it followed him, like a shadow clinging to his hollow soul.
The tension that settled over the household was like a thick fog. The next day Alec was aloof, his mood guarded and sullen. Things between Nicholas and Sophia were no better, the unresolved emotions lingering from their conversation. It pained Nicholas to see the distance between himself and the two people he loved most in the world, a gap he felt powerless to bridge.
Nicholas stepped out into the brilliant wash of the afternoon sun, a soft sigh escaping him as he squinted against the light. The back lawn stretched before him, a lush expanse of green that seemed to sparkle under the day”s clear sky. Sophia and Alec were engrossed in a game of soccer, their laughter and playful shouts piercing the air with a vibrancy that contrasted sharply with Nicholas”s sour mood.
Sophia danced across the lawn, guiding and teaching Alec with a patience that reminded him of the early days of their relationship, when she was the tour guide at the museum. He recalled the quiet intelligence in her words, the way she laced facts and stories together to create her speech, keeping the viewers entranced and engaged. He wondered if she missed that part of her life, one she had invested so much of her adulthood on, a job she once loved. Those days seemed a lifetime ago, even to him.
Alec, for his part, took to the soccer game with surprising agility, his youthful energy manifesting in quick dashes and skillful maneuvers that had the ball dancing at his feet. Watching him bounce the ball with a showman”s flair, Nicholas couldn”t help but crack a reluctant smile at Alec”s quick mastery.
Despite the warmth of the day, a shadow lingered. Both Sophia and Alec had been avoiding him all day, and they seemed content to carry on without him. The knowledge left a bitter taste in his mouth, a reminder of the tension that simmered just beneath the surface of their current peace.
Yet, as he stood there, a mere spectator to their game, he felt a softening in the edges of his frustration. Seeing Sophia and Alec so engaged, so utterly happy in each other”s company, it was impossible not to feel a measure of relief. The sight of them together, laughing and happy, was all he truly wanted. It was these moments, these snapshots of unguarded happiness, that he had risked everything for.
A gentle breeze ruffled the leaves of the surrounding trees, the air sending a ripple over his skin. The yard, tended with a rainbow of flower beds along the sturdy oaks that bordered the property, felt like a haven in that moment, a world apart from the burdens that awaited just beyond its boundaries. He lingered at the edge of the lawn, content to watch them, yet when Sophia looked in his direction, he could not stop himself from giving her a hopeful wave. He felt like a wounded puppy, scraping for her attention, but so be it.
She gave him a half-smile, and a little wave in return. Alec noticed her distraction, and with a sweep of his leg, he kicked the ball toward Nicholas.
“Get it, Nic!” Alec hollered.
Nicholas lifted his foot and stopped the ball, cocking his leg to keep it firmly in place. Alec laughed and jogged over to him, with Sophia close behind.
“You’re looking pretty good there,” Nicholas said to Alec, although his gaze remained on Sophia. She met his stare, holding back a bit, shoving her hands into her pockets.
“Better than you!” Alec shot back. The boy kicked the ball out from under Nicholas’s foot and took off with it, tapping it in front of him across the lawn. Nicholas stumbled a bit at the ferocity of the steal, and he grinned when he heard Sophia giggle.
“I thought it was a pretty normal thing for a kid to do,” Sophia explained. “He seems to enjoy it.”
Nicholas put his hands in his own pockets, echoing her motion. It was more to keep his hands off her, as he knew no other way to breach the discord between them. He was acutely aware he was not skilled at modern-day relationships. Men of his time did not speak of hurt feelings, of damaged pride, or acquiescence. He only knew how to resolve matters with his actions—and his instinct was to take her in his arms, lay her down, and show her exactly how felt for her.
Privacy in the twenty-first century, however, did not lend to such behavior. He did not think much on the warrior he was in other centuries, and most days he adapted to the modern time he found himself in, yet looking at her, her gaze still guarded, was driving him absolutely, primally, mad.
Instead of settling their differences by ravishing her on the lawn, he tucked his warrior gene back into submission and reminded himself who he was now: a modern-day man, one who must use his wits sensibly, and communicate with the woman he adored.
“Well, he has an excellent teacher. Soccer was a good idea,” he remarked.
“Yeah, I guess,” she murmured. Her eyes darted downward to her feet then returned to his, and she leaned back slightly, arching her back. He noticed her throat contract before she spoke again, her tone cautious. “You didn’t come to bed last night,” she said quietly.
“I was restless, and I didn’t want to wake you,” he replied. She stepped toward him then, her hands falling from her pockets as she faced him. He held his breath, eager to have her in his space, yet afraid he might run her off.
She lifted her hand and slowly grasped his shirt, the fabric balled into her fist as she looked into his eyes. “Don’t do that again, Nic. Next time we have a fight, I mean. I don’t care if we shout at each other, if I want to kick your ass, or if you want to wring my neck. I don’t care how ugly it gets, and I don’t care if we talk or not. We still go to bed together, and we wake up together.”
He let out the breath of air in his chest and closed his hand over hers where she gripped him. He nodded once, slowly, and he could see her features soften as he agreed to her demand.
“All right,” he agreed. “I’m sorry. For all of it.”
Her mouth tightened and her brows scrunched together. “Me too,” she said softly. The hurt was still there, lingering beneath the surface, but they were in a better place at least, for now.
He smiled when she leaned into him, and he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.
“So I was telling Alec about the mummers parade. What do you think about going into the city tomorrow?” she asked. Her eyes lit up, and he could not resist the urge to tease her.
“What exactly is a mummer?” he asked, cocking a brow in question.
“Oh, you’ll see,” she assured him. She kissed his cheek with a giggle. “C’mon, I’m sure we can find plenty of study material on the internet.”
She put her fingers to her lips to issue a sharp whistle and waved Alec to come inside, and they followed her into the house for their next lesson.
Later that evening they sat on a chaise lounge on the balcony of their room. After a busy day of watching videos about the legendary string band brigades and how they performed each year in the New Year’s Day parade, Alec was absolutely hooked, and Nicholas was definitely intrigued. Despite his reservations, he agreed to make the trip into the city. If attending a parade the next day was all it took to make both Sophia and Alec happy, then he would do it a million times over to keep the peace.
Sophia rested her head against his shoulder, and he took care to cover her with the blanket. There was a gas-powered heater on the patio which emanated some warmth, but the night was unabashedly cold, and Nicholas shuddered, gripping her lightly to share the heat of her body.
“I don’t see what is so important about the New Year that we need to freeze our asses off out here,” he commented. She laughed, smacking him lightly with her flattened palm on his chest.
“It’s tradition, Nic. You’re just going to have to bear it,” she shot back. She snuggled closer, and he let out a low grumble.
“If you say so,” he said.
Alec joined them, wrapped like a tamale in the comforter from his bed. The boy plopped down on the couch beside Sophia. “It’s freezing out here,” he complained.
Sophia gently pulled Alec over, causing him to tip slightly in her direction, and Nicholas was surprised to see him relent, leaning casually against Sophia. Nicholas spread his arm over the back of the couch, spanning both Sophia and Alec, two curled up bundles. They nestled together on the plush couch of their balcony, high above the grounds of the estate. Sophia’s warmth seeped into him, while Alec had cocooned himself next to her. The balcony provided a panoramic view that stretched for miles, the dark night landscape a haze of shadow below the stars.
The first sounds of fireworks pierced the tranquility of the night—a distant pop and bang, tentative at first, like the opening notes of a long-awaited symphony. Soon, the sounds began to gather momentum, building into a crescendo of booms and cracks that echoed through the crisp air. He watched as Sophia”s eyes lit up with each burst, reflecting the dazzling colors that painted the night sky.
“I told you it would be worth it,” she said.
Alec leaned forward, the blanket sliding off his shoulders. “They’re everywhere! Is it always like this, Sophia?” he asked.
Sophia smiled, her eyes alight. “Yes, folks out here are pretty serious about their fireworks. Wait until you see what they do on the fourth of July.”
From their vantage point, the displays from neighboring properties and farms sprang to life, creating a choreography of light that danced across the vastness of the night. Bright whites, deep reds, and vibrant greens exploded in succession, each burst more spectacular than the last. The air filled with the smell of gunpowder—a tangy, metallic scent that mingled with the earthy aroma of the evening dew on the grass below. The smell was invigorating, a reminder of the celebration that enveloped the countryside.
As the displays grew in intensity, the sky above became a canvas of light, each new burst of fireworks painting strokes of color that illuminated the darkness. The sight was mesmerizing, a spectacle of human creation that rivaled the stars peeking through the gaps in the show. Around them, the air was alive with the sound of distant cheers and music from celebrations afar, echoes of others who watched.
Sitting there, with Sophia’s head resting gently against his shoulder and Alec”s quiet breaths signaling his awe, Nicholas felt a surge of gratitude. The world outside was ablaze with light and sound, yet here with them, wrapped in blankets and each other”s presence, his tension ebbed away.
As the last of the fireworks painted the sky, slowly fading into the night, the echoes of the display lingered in the air like a sweet melody that refused to end. Nicholas tightened his hold on Sophia slightly, and ruffled the back of Alec’s head, grateful for the normalcy of being together in an illuminated slice of time.
The chill of New Year’s Day hung heavy in the air as they navigated the throngs of revelers gathered around Philadelphia’s historical City Hall. The grand old structure stood as a silent sentinel over Broad Street, its stately presence a stark contrast to the celebration that unfolded around it. Despite the cold, the atmosphere was alive, warm and festive, the streets a vibrant display of colors and sounds.
People of all ages and backgrounds, bundled in coats and scarves, packed the sidewalks, their breath visible in the crisp air. The noise was a constant, jubilant roar—laughter, cheers, and the occasional burst of song from those bold enough to sing out their New Year’s joy. Street vendors added to the clamor, their calls vying for attention as they hawked hot drinks, pretzels, and festive paraphernalia.
Nicholas marveled at the spectacle, his senses overwhelmed but invigorated by the pulsing life of the city. Beside him, Sophia clung to his arm, her eyes wide with wonder and delight as she took in the sights and sounds. Alec, the energetic spirit, kept close by, his youthful enthusiasm barely contained as he absorbed the thrilling chaos of the celebration. It was good to see the brightness in his eyes, and Nicholas was glad he gave in to Sophia’s request to travel to the city.
The highlight of the day was the Mummers Parade, a dazzling display of local tradition and flamboyant creativity. The mummers themselves were a sight to behold, decked in elaborate costumes that glittered and shimmered under the weak winter sun. Feathers, sequins, and vibrant fabrics transformed ordinary Philadelphians into extraordinary spectacles. They strutted and danced down Broad Street, their movements synchronized to the lively tunes played by brass bands and string ensembles that marched along with them.
Each division of mummers brought its own flavor to the parade, from the comic brigades with their slapstick antics to the fancy divisions whose elaborate, often thematic, presentations commanded awe and applause. The air was thick with the music of banjos, saxophones, and drums, their rhythms infectious, compelling even the most reserved bystander to tap a foot or nod along.
As they threaded their way through the crowd, Nicholas felt an undercurrent of something magical about this blend of history and celebration. He could feel the city’s heartbeat, pulsating through the cobblestone streets and echoing off the grand fa?ades of its buildings. Would it always be like this, sharing in new modern traditions? Would Alec become a part of it all, accustomed to such things?
The energy of the crowd was contagious, a shared eagerness to usher in the new year with hope and jubilation. Faces around them smiled, laughed, and for a moment, they were not just visitors but part of something much more grand.
As they moved along, swept up in the tide of high spirits, Nicholas squeezed Sophia’s hand. It was not lost to him that she was in her element, a modern woman who enjoyed a life that, to him, seemed utterly futuristic at times.
“Look, isn’t that the Wench Brigade? We saw them on tv last night, didn’t we?” Alec exclaimed, pointing at the group featured nearby.
“It sure is,” Sophia agreed.
The wench brigade took center stage, their antics drawing laughter from the assembled crowd. Dressed in their traditional garb of colorful dresses and bloomers, their faces painted in exaggerated, clown-like expressions, the members of the brigade were a spectacle of old-world charm dashed with irreverent humor. Each wench wielded a decorated umbrella, twirling them with a flair that added a whimsical note to their performance. Alec was mesmerized, his eyes wide with wonder as he took in the spectacle before him.
As a live brass band pumped out lively tunes, setting a toe-tapping rhythm that reverberated down Broad Street, the wenches gathered in a tight formation. The music swelled, and the crowd”s anticipation built, sensing the impending climax of the brigade”s performance.
“I think the Fancies will be up next,” Nicholas said. Sophia laughed, cocking a brow at him.
“Oh, you’re the expert now, mmm?” she asked. He rolled his eyes.
“I paid attention last night. They have an order of things, don’t they?” he replied.
Alec poked Sophia, dragging her attention away. “What about the String Bands? I can’t wait to see them!”
She placed a hand on Alec’s shoulder. “It’s gonna be a bit before we see them, hang in there,” she told the boy. She handed him a red and white-striped bag of popcorn, which he gladly snatched from her, grabbing a fistful which he promptly shoved in his mouth.
“How long are we talking?” Nicholas asked her, bending to her ear. From what he recalled, the parade was an all-day event.
“Ah, yeah, probably hours,” she admitted with a wry smile. Although his ears were already ringing and his toes we numb inside his shoes, he served her a half-grin in return, willing to endure it as long as necessary.
He returned his attention to Alec, intent to steal a handful of popcorn, and was surprised to see Alec had wandered a few rows away from them. The boy had stepped up against the metal barrier, where he was quickly pushed forward by other excited spectators.
“Alec!” Nicholas called out.
Alec was suddenly still, rigid in place. He did not turn at the sound of his name, and for a moment Nicholas thought he simply did not hear his call. Yet something was not right. The popcorn bag fell from his hand—and Alec remained unmoving.
“Nic?” Sophia said, eyes wide. He pushed through the crowd, eliciting more than one hard stare and harsh word as he shoved people aside to reach his brother. Sophia grabbed onto him as he threaded through, her breath coming in short bursts. They reached the barrier, each of them surrounding Alec, and yet, the boy remained immobile, his empty eyes staring at the twirling decorated parasols of the performers in the street.
“Alec, didn’t you hear me?” Nicholas asked. He put a hand on his brother’s arm and gently turned him.
His face was pale, and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. A dolls-eye stare issued from his face, the glassy globes lolling without focus, unblinking.
“Alec,” Nicholas said, louder. “Alec, talk to me!”
“What’s wrong with him?” Sophia asked. She placed her hand on his face and pulled him to her, wrapping him in her arms. “My God, he’s shaking like a leaf.”
“Let’s get him out of here,” Nicholas insisted.
No amount of calling his name could penetrate his shell. Panic took hold as Nicholas and Sophia struggled to guide him through the crowd, their efforts to reach the car hampered by the throngs of people. The boy barely shuffled his feet as they pulled him, and with a frustration born of fear, Nicholas hoisted his brother into his arms.
What was wrong with him? The unseeing eyes, the way they rolled back into his head—Nicholas had seen it before, but he did not want to think upon those days.
It was the image of an ancient sorcerer, the blind whitened unseeing eyes, in that moment they called upon their power to unleash hell. He saw a Viking volva call down the demons once at Brattalid, and another time, in another place, when a Germanic shaman used the shadows to curse the bloodline of his enemy.
He had to be wrong. Alec was simply ill. He refused to believe his brother was affected by such ancient darkness.
Finally, they managed to get Alec into the car, his body limp and his breathing shallow. Nicholas”s heart pounded in his chest, fear and confusion clouding his thoughts. But then, as he placed the boy on the backseat of the car and Sophia sat down beside him, Alec”s crisis seemed to pass.
His eyes fluttered, and he shook his head. He focused on Nicholas, clarity returning to his gaze, and uttered words that sent a chill down Nicholas”s spine.
”I remember it all,” Alec whispered. “I remember hanging.”
Nicholas froze, the force of Alec”s words crashing into him. The memories that Alec had lost, that had been mercifully obscured by the fog of his recovery, had returned, bringing with them the pain and trauma of his final moments.
Sophia placed a hand on the boy’s cheek, and Nicholas was grateful for the instinct that compelled her to comfort Alec. She spoke softly to him.
“It’s all right, Alec. You’re safe now. You’re here with us, and you’re safe, and we will never let anything bad happen to you again,” she told him.
Alec stared at Nicholas with empty eyes. “I remember the bay mare. She was fast. Did you tell father how well I rode?”
Nicholas returned his brother’s gaze, a coldness washing through his veins, and it had nothing to do with the weather. “She was,” he replied. “But I never told him.”
“You should have,” Alec replied. The boy turned his head away, leaning back in the seat.
The ride back was heavy with silence, each lost in their own thoughts.