Chapter 13 #2
“If we don’t let the blood settle, then we can feel the Vassals’ emotions; some of us can even detect their proximity.
It amplifies our already heightened senses.
Letting the blood settle is a critical part of reducing our prey-drive.
It maintains the value of the blood as sustenance but removes qualities that entice us to act inhumanely. ”
This was something I had never heard before. Not even my father, who seemed to have more information than the average human due to his years of studying their blood.
“Is that why the Rab— Err, I mean, Forlorn treat us like prey?” I inquired, beginning to approach the edge of the blood-filled pool and peer down into my obscured reflection.
“Yes, we’re quite certain that feeding from pure and unsettled blood is what accelerates our disease. What results in our becoming ‘rabid,’ as you humans call it.”
“I’ve heard the Vampyr also bite each other…” I cleared my throat, trying to approach the subject tactfully, “…sexually. Why doesn’t that affect you the way it does the Forlorn?”
Orin tried to conceal a smile. “You’re an amusing student, Miss Esiree. I can see why Vastion thinks you’re clever.”
This was the first time he’d mentioned Vastion’s name since this morning, and it made me eager to know what else he had said about me to his commander. “Our blood holds no nutrition for either Vampyr or Forlorn. Biting one another serves no purpose other than satiating our primal desires.”
His answer ignited a grim curiosity about those damned Falls.
Some morbid part of me knew that, one way or another, I would eventually see their depravity for myself.
I remained crouched by the edge, where white chalk markers became visible along the inside of the pool. “What do those lines mean?” I asked.
His expression became wistful. “Those are volumetric markers. They indicate our inventory levels. This is the lowest they’ve ever been, and they continue to dwindle.
It’s why rationing is so important.” He crouched down beside me.
“And it’s why it’s important that Vastion not frivolously overserve his citizens simply to distract from his wife’s behavior. ”
I scoffed and stood, turning away from him. He mumbled something to himself as he rose, before pulling a lever that immediately extinguished the firelight surrounding the reservoir. Orin pointed me back towards the doorway.
Vastion’s tour guide proved to be more valuable than I had expected. As we exited the lower levels, I felt pleased that I had already discovered where and how the Vampyr secured their food source—and that the supply was running low. As soon as I could relay this information to my family, I would.
My mind still fixated on the Sanguine Reservoir, I asked, “Why is your supply so low? Do you not have enough Vassals?”
“Shhh!” Orin froze and turned to face me after looking in both directions to ensure we were entirely alone.
“Everything you witnessed down there is secret. Only a few trusted advisors in Vastion’s Council know anything about this.
They believe the supply is plentiful, but their king is simply being conservative with the rations. ”
So Vastion did lie to his own people… “But why?” I whispered, still unsure of why I had been made privy to any of this.
“Populations are shrinking, and quickly. You may not have been able to tell from your limited vantage, but all across Devana, human numbers are dwindling.” Orin’s brow furrowed with concern.
“Childbirth and rearing cannot keep up with the speed at which the Forlorn are leaving behind destruction and carnage. His Majesty is not just eager to protect your people from a total massacre, but quite literally, our existence hangs in the balance alongside yours. At least, until…” Orin abruptly cut himself off.
“Until what?” I pried.
“Never mind that. The tour must continue.”
My chest tightened with anxiety from the information Orin had imparted to me. Were the leaders of the human territories also aware of how badly our numbers were being affected? The way Orin made it sound, our numbers would be long destroyed by the Forlorn before the Vampyr starved.
I remained close by Orin’s side as he led me through the vastness of the city levels dedicated to housing Vastion’s citizens.
What shocked me most was not the alarming number of Vampyr sheltered within the Heart, but that the class systems remained untouched.
I didn’t know why I thought all Vampyr lived like wealthy nobles, but that was far from the truth.
It’s as if the society that existed when they all became Forsaken had simply migrated underground.
The poorer working class and servants did not suddenly rise in rank or wealth.
They still toiled over daily tasks, albeit new ones.
I leaned over a balcony high above the chasm, now absent of Vastion’s ship, and scanned the buzz of activity below.
Dockworkers reviewed shipments of goods for trade.
A seamstress sewed garments, and a cobbler repaired stacks of weathered, leather boots.
In another wing, the sound of metalsmiths clanging their tools echoed along jagged walls.
That was when I spotted what appeared to be a child.
Then, the more I studied her, the more her mannerisms did not appear childlike in the slightest.
“There are children here?” I asked quietly of Orin, who leaned with his back against the balcony, fiddling with his dagger.
“Have you never seen a child of the Forsaken?”
“Never,” I said in disbelief, wondering how long she’d been changed.
“And a child Forlorn?” he probed further.
I turned abruptly to face him. “What…?” I sputtered.
“You’ve not witnessed any during the attacks? There are many; more than I care to dwell upon,” he said.
“Only recently has Leto begun to fall victim to the savagery of the Forlorn. I have not seen many with my own eyes, only ever mangled corpses. Certainly never children.”
Orin sighed. I didn’t know if it was frustration with my naivety, pity, or annoyance with Vastion’s assignment.
“This is a very sensitive subject, Your Majesty, and you should know the truth so your ignorance never mistakenly offends one of your citizens.”
I felt my hands ball into tight fists, his words feeling like a chastisement.
“You act as if the Vampyr are anything but secretive. Why would I—or any human, for that matter—know about any of this? It’s not like we can trust the information that is shared with us,” I declared, thinking specifically about the lack of detail around former Queen Kesna’s untimely death, which led to an early Harvest.
“I suppose you have a point.” Orin sheathed his dagger and turned to gaze down at the little girl who had inspired my line of questioning.
“When Vastion’s father bit his children and wife, exposing them to the hunger that would later turn their fate, he did so when they were all of mature age.
But some parents would not be parted with their loved ones, and logic has no dominion over matters of the heart.
Some did not understand their own hunger before it was too late, and their children paid the price. ”
He paused, perhaps deciding whether or not he should continue. I looked at him pleadingly, riddled with curiosity. He read my expression and acquiesced.
“They robbed their children of a mortal life in exchange for lifetimes of ageless juvenility. But this selfish act would not bear the fruit they had hoped. Children are wild, unruly, prone to outbursts and acting on every impulse. The hunger is often too much for them to resist. Every Vampyr here is civilized because they’ve found the control required to have some semblance of a life at all. They know the consequences otherwise.”
I stared at the young lady while she assisted the woman who was presumably her mother in the duties of their day.
“What happened to the rest of the children, Orin?” I asked quietly, knowing the weight of my question.
“They succumbed to their instincts. They hunted and they fed, and shortly after, the blood they feasted on began to change them.” He struggled with the memory, making me wish I hadn’t conjured it.
After composing himself, he continued. “The madness induced by the hunger is particularly disorienting to the immature minds of the young. While some parents chose to share that same fate, refusing to let their children face it alone, others could not become such abominations—forever burdened by the grief of a parting that would surely haunt them for all their days.”
Orin paused, looking into my eyes as if trying to find some darker part of my soul that was ready to hear what he’d say next.
“And the strongest amongst them made the difficult decision to protect Vampyr and human alike by prioritizing the future of others over their own kin.”
He did not have to explain any further. I knew exactly what horrific meaning his words implied, and I felt my eyes prickle with grief at the knowledge of what some parents had to forfeit.
Lost in a well of my own thoughts, I felt Orin’s hand settle gently on my shoulder.
“They may look like children, Esiree, but they are not. Treat them with the same respect as you would any of your adult subjects. For their eyes have seen more years than yours ever will, and their hearts carry a longing and sorrow most of us cannot grasp.”