Vein and Virtue

The sanctuary was a frigid, candlelit maw that swallowed up the congregation. A gentle melody sang out from a mechanical organist, designed to ease tension. The high, arched windows let in slivers of moonlight that illuminated the pulpit but shed no light on the austere faces of the devotees. I wondered if they could sense it, the terrible news that reached our island this morning. Even I hadn’t anticipated it, and I fear the consequences of its divulgence.

The air was heavy with the scent of old incense, damp stone, and humans—a strong musky scent no vampire could ever mistake for another in their eternal life. It was thick and sweet, always a lingering temptation for beastly impulses, but I was used to it. Most vampires for the past several generations were, which made the news that was about to break all the more tragic. I doubt the humans will take it well.

My eyes scanned over a sea of heads from the back pew on the mezzanine floor. There were so many of them, at least two hundred in this sanctuary, and another few thousand listened from their home radios in town. We’re probably only one or two years off from having to sterilize a generation of them. A population of this size is vulnerable to disease, which would be detrimental to our liquid deposits. That was of little importance now, of course; what we ought to worry about with a population of this size is rebellion.

“Thank you all for gathering here so quickly,” Paro Lyon, a human vitalist, finally addressed the crowd as he made his way to the pulpit. The mechanical organist hissed still, and every utterance from the crowd was silenced. He’s dressed in his full ceremonial funeral attire. A pompous outfit, but my father insisted that he wear it, to ‘turn this evil into something holy’. I could see my father's true intentions: to soften the blow.

“We received troubling news from Xarrowmere this morning,” Paro continued somberly.

“Always speaking like he’s one of us,” my mother muttered next to me. When I turned to see her face, she was already glaring beneath her sheer, red veil. She has never liked Paro, always found him to be ‘self-important’ for a human.

“He’s an integral part of our rule,” my father forced a whisper from her left side. “He is one of us.”

“A human…” Paro lingered on the word. “Was slain.”

The crowd erupted in several gasps and cries. Hands clasped over mouths, heads dropped in demoralization. A few even dared to look upward towards us, no doubt already casting their accusations.

“Look how quickly they turned,” a small chuckle came from my right.

A diminutive smile formed on my lips. I turned to peek over at Asa, Paro’s son, my only friend. His honey colored eyes are already meeting mine while he holds back another laugh and pulls at the tie around his neck. It seems his father insisted he dress up as well. Even his typically loose mane was pulled into a braid.

“They’re probably wondering if it was one of us,” I answered from behind my red veil.

“Everyone knows everyone in town. Trust me, they know better. We'd know if someone went missing,” he reached down to touch my leg before returning his hands to his lap.

His words and touch were partially comforting, but still a subtle reminder of the ever-present tension in our society. We were their natural predators. They had every reason to be suspicious of us, to distrust us…to hate us. I wondered what thoughts lingered behind those glaring and sorrowful looks, what they were all too afraid to say.

“Our Sovereign slew a human,” Paro finally finished, his voice echoing over a new outbreak of gasps.

Murmurs began to build, and people shifted in their seats. It was uncomfortable news, to say the least. If the esteemed leader of the vampiric kind, an ancient figure, Sovereign Patriarch Elijah Lucernoir, could transgress in such a way, how could mere Masters be trusted? How could anyone younger than a century be trusted? The unrest was reasonable but dangerous. When other humans in Taudrus hear this news, what will their reaction be? Will they rebel? Inspire others to do the same? Will a demesne be conquered?

“Now I know that this news is alarming,” Paro raised his hands, and the murmurs fell to whispers. “But we must have faith in vitalist traditions, in our way of life here and our Master-Abbot, Ronan Kane.”

Heads turned to look at my father, who straightened his back upon being mentioned. He gave a small nod to Paro, who continued, “He, along with his coterie, has served Obscuranth faithfully, keeping generations of humans safe and our demesne peaceful. Rather than devolve into panic, let us lean on their leadership, our leaders who listen to our needs, depend on our well-being, and seek richer lives for us all. They’ve given us no reason to doubt them; let us not give them a reason to doubt us.”

Slowly, applause broke over the congregation, a reluctant acceptance of our rule despite the news. A cunning solution on Paro’s part, to make it seem like the humans needed to earn our trust after an incident like this. Hopefully, the speech is enough to keep the peace, at least for a while.

“As always, well done, old man,” Asa clapped lazily before turning to me with a smirk.

“What would we do without him?” I whispered with a chuckle.

“Watch our small city turn into a cesspool of crime?” he laughed quietly.

“It’s not your city,” my mother bit back, leaning over to glare at him.

“He just meant he lives here,” I quickly interjected before my mother could explain the distinction between vampires and humans. “Right?” I turn to Asa.

Before he answered, he looked at me with that expression. That look, that’s like dissatisfaction and…pity.

“Right,” he cleared his throat and looked forward again.

I stare at him for a moment longer, wanting to know what he might be thinking.

“What?” He looked at me through the corner of his eyes. “Trying to hear my thoughts?”

I looked down immediately and scoffed. “A Scrythe hasn’t been able to read a human's thoughts for a millennia,” I assured him.

“You could just ask, rather than pry. It would save you energy, keep your consumption down,” he suggested a little too loudly.

Next to me, my mother let out a huff. “She is nightbourne, no one, least of all a human, has the right to tell my daughter how much she should consume,” she spoke sharply.

“My apologies, Mistress Mariposa. I only meant that-“ Asa tried.

“What you meant is irrelevant,” she dismissed him.

“Mother…” I placed a hand over hers.

She snatched it away quickly. “It’s unacceptable. Letting him speak like that. You will rule one day, you mustn’t let anyone or anything undermine that rule.” She was more severe than usual, but given the circumstances, I did not blame her.

“He should be allowed to speak however he desires,” My father corrected her gently. “How could she rule effectively, unable to hear the plain desires of her people?”

My mother shook her head and chuckled bitterly. “Her subjects,” she murmured too quietly for my father to hear. It was her petty way of ending the exchange without truly arguing. It was for the best; we were not in good company for the two of them to repeat that decades-old conversation.

Paro Lyon finished his vitalist speech, further indoctrinating every human in attendance. He spoke of the goodness of my father and the greatness of Taudrus before leading the congregation in the Veneration.

“Please join me in this sacred act,” Paro said, pulling a ruby needle from the pulpit. The congregation followed suit, reaching for their ruby needles and glass vials from the back of the pews.

“Want this?” Asa handed me a stalk of lemongrass. “I cut one this morning. I assumed there’d be a Veneration.”

I smiled. “How thoughtful.” I reached for the stalk and brought it to my nose.

“We give our blood… to Taudrus, for our Masters, for the dead. Our blood, freely given, is vital to all.” Paro continued, taking the needle, pricking a vein in his arm.

One by one, voices around me fell in sync, murmuring the ancient hypnotizing words cloaked in reverence. The scent of iron grew stronger and awakened all my senses. As the last line of the prayer faded into stillness, Paro raised his arm and let crimson stream flowing to his elbow drip into the vial. “Let the Veneration be sealed.”

Movement swept the pews. The humans all offered a tithe of blood. Their only price to pay for the promise of protection, a home, and a freedom of sorts. A holy obligation, some would say. There wasn’t a more dangerous time to be a human than during the Veneration. There wasn’t a time when I felt more enthralled by those beastly impulses than this.

Beside me, Asa didn’t hesitate. He rolled back his sleeve and made his offering. My eyes lingered on the red as it dripped down his arm, wrapped around the curvature of his muscle, and snaked over the hills of his pulsing veins. When he realized I was staring, he turned to me, and again I cast my eyes down, trying to ignore his scent. I inhaled the lemongrass between my fingers, its scent sharp, earthy, and clean. It numbed the thirst burning in my throat, making for a wonderful sensory distraction.

Before I could thank him, my mother stood, smoothing the wrinkles in the skirt of her plum dress. “That’s enough piety for one morning,” she snapped. “We’re going home. She must practice.”

“It will look as if you ran the moment blood was drawn,” my father countered.

“It will look as if this incident has changed nothing for us. That we’re above needless posturing. Let us go. You know sharpening her gift is paramount now,” my mother all but pushed him aside, beckoning me to follow. We left the chapel quietly, our heels clicking on the stone floor under the hum of prayers.

My mother and I crossed the moonlit courtyard to our monastery, her steps more hurried than mine. Her patience seems thinner than usual. I watched her shoulders as she walked, the way she tried to keep them from tensing. “What did you mean? Sharpening my gift is paramount now?” I asked.

She halted and let out a sigh. “You will search for that answer yourself,” she looked over her shoulder, “but we could both use a drink after that…sickening smell.” She took in another deep breath, no doubt trying to clear out the smell of human blood. “Come, we’ll practice in the reading room.”

The reading room was lit by moonlight and a few flickering candles. Sheer jewel-toned curtains framed every window, billowing softly in the gentle wind. Lining the room's walls were towering bookshelves, filled with volumes of vampiric histories, philosophies, and supernatural sciences. My mother spent a lot of time here. This place was her sanctuary, an altar of sorts to the vampiric kind, to everything that she took pride in.

I was glad she finally included me.

“I’m sure you already have ideas of how this news will affect our nation,” my mother reached into her desk’s chilling drawer and pulled out two clear glass vials and one ruby vial. The glass vials stored animal blood, and the ruby vial held human blood, rightfully mine.

Being nightbourne, human blood was a larger part of my diet than hers. It was owed to me before any other by law. For a plebeian vampire, animal blood would satisfy and sustain, but wouldn’t maintain their youth or prolong their life. They’d certainly outlive a human but it’s unlikely they’d outlive a nightbourne. Of course, human blood is not banned from a plebeian diet, but with their population being greater and weaker, they have a duty to preserve it and avoid overconsumption.

My mother handed me the freezing vial with a small bow of her head. I furrowed a brow; she’d never done that before. I took it, returning her gesture.

“Before you drink,” she held my hand. “Try without it, cut through my mind.”

“Mother, you know it is near impossible-” I started.

“But not impossible,” she corrected. “Try…” she looked into my eyes.

I fought the urge to question her, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath. When I opened my eyes again and looked into hers, I listened to the sound of her heartbeat, where her blood flowed in her mind. The feeling of cutting through a mind was…horrifying. Thoughts that were mine faded away, giving way to hers. I felt as though my entire being was a singular idea drowned in the sea of her.

“…my idiot husband… his love of humans…his own kind,” her thoughts only came through in pieces, in between heartbeats, whispering. “How…they’ll lob his head…my daughter…beside the sovereign.”

I gasped and pulled back, breaking my mind from hers. “What are you thinking?” I shook my head.

“Were you not able to harvest my thoughts?” She let go of the bottle.

“Your thoughts are making no sense,” I breathed, enjoying the sound of my own headspace again. “I know they will execute the sovereign, but what does that have to do with me? Why would I be beside him?”

My mother scoffed. “I was a fool to let your father go on for so long…only letting him fill your head with vitalist teachings. I just hadn’t expected something like this so early in your life. I didn’t think we’d have to prepare for this until you had at least fifty years.” She quickly downed her two vials, letting out a small moan as she finished each one.

“Soon the sovereign will die and will be replaced by one of his nightbourne sons. The last time that we had a change of rule like this, there were no nightbourne women for our rising sovereign to marry, so he had to settle for a vampiress from a powerful coterie. Now…” she cast me a knowing look.

My stomach sank when I grasped her meaning. “There’s a nightbourne vampiress…” I murmured.

“Indeed,” my mother nodded. “Invitations will be extended, you’ll be expected to accept them. It’s your duty.”

“Why must this happen now? If Taudrus has an heir in a year or ten years, what difference would that make?” I asked, untwisting my vial of red.

“Find out for yourself,” she nodded toward my vial.

I sighed quietly before lifting the vial to my lips. As I drank, I felt my senses sharpen as waves of pleasure flowed through me. Then the human blood takes its effect. My canines extend to a point in my mouth, and my eyes strain as my irises turn to slits. As the effect passed, my features returned to normal, and the visage of the nightbourne fell away. I looked back into my mother's eyes, and her thoughts rushed toward me more clearly.

“The sovereign’s sons will either have two contenders or… one contender and an ally. Each will want you to choose their side to strengthen their claim to the throne. The promise of nightbourne heirs is no small thing, and with that womb of yours, you’ll certainly produce one,” her thoughts echoed around me.

“They think I want the throne?” I scoffed. “They can have it, I’m content right here.”

“You have your father's mind for politics,” she thought.

“I’m still listening.”

“Not very closely, it seems,” she sighed. “You would not make a formidable challenger as you are, not to mention there hasn’t been a vampiress sovereign for many centuries. I doubt either of them fears you’d take the throne for yourself, but Taudrus will favor the claim of the son with a nightbourne wife more than the one without. They both need you.”

“As a piece in their game,” I tried to bite back my disdain.

“You could be a piece, yes…or…” she looked into my eyes and thought, “You could be a player. A gift like yours would give you a major advantage in court.” I could sense the anticipation in her mind. She was poised like a viper waiting to spring on her prey, and I was her venom.

I squinted and shook my head. “For what purpose? I have no ambitions for this; I’ve only just begun learning how to govern the monastery. I can’t-”

“Would you rather these sons make you a political weapon for themselves, when they discover you’re a Scrythe? ”

“As you would?” I thought, but then quickly looked at the ground, hoping she would not hear. The ability to speak to another’s mind wasn’t something I had accomplished before. However, when cutting through someone’s mind, my own thoughts feel vulnerable.

“I didn’t think so,” she moved closer to me, lifted my chin. “You always knew this day would come.”

“But this quickly?”

“You still have some time. We probably won’t leave until the fortnight’s over.”

“Then what? We all just ship ourselves off to Xarrowmere?”

“Not all,” she played with the ends of one of my locs. “Your father will remain here to govern Obscuranth, but you and I will go to the throne. You’ll court Elliot and Elias Lusernoir and choose the best fit for yourself. It’s a good hand to be dealt, trust me. I used to dream of being able to make such a decision when I was your age. Instead, I was thrust to your father, and I couldn’t peer into his mind to see what a buffoon he was before the deed was done.”

I chuckled, feeling the slightest bit of relief. “You think all vitalists are buffoons.”

“Not true,” she thought. “I’m a vitalist, but your father goes beyond that, and even further beyond buffoonery.” Then she spoke, “Humans are vital to our survival, not our culture. We don’t invite sheep and cattle to our table. Why should humans be treated any differently?” She twirled my hair around her finger.

“The sheep and cattle are incapable of language and organization,” I remarked, which only earned me an eye roll. The break in eye contact made it difficult to tell what she was thinking at the time, but from the way she spoke and her ever-present disdain for my father, I’ve always imagined her happier with a devourist husband. I didn’t think she’d be so bloodthirsty to drink from the vein, but she’d agree with the devourist’s policy to treat humans as livestock.

“Will it only be you and me then, until I marry?” I asked.

She cast me a knowing look. “You cannot bring your human.”

“Why not? Plenty of vampires travel with human servants.” My eyes fell again, trying to avoid her unfiltered thoughts.

“Is that what he’d be?”

“What else could he be?” I shot back. I folded my hands behind my back, a passive movement that pulled my hair from between her fingertips.

She huffed. “A distraction, a social misstep,” she shrugged. “The sons might find his presence at your side offensive, considering what’s happening to their father.”

“Their father’s being executed because he violated the Lex Hemata,” I moved over to a window and watched the congregation make its way out of the cathedral from a distance. “The humans aren’t to blame.”

Through the crowd, I spotted Asa at his father's side, pulling his sandy hair loose. From where he was standing, I knew exactly how long it would take him to reach his rooms in the monastery.

“That boy was meant to get you through a difficult and lonely childhood, Sera,” my mother spoke lowly.

I stiffened.

“He was not to become a crutch. You shouldn’t be this attached to a human at your age anyway. You know it increases the chance of devouring-”

“I would never devour As-” I stopped myself when I saw her raised brow. “A human.” I quickly corrected.

She shook her head. “That kind of talk is dangerous where we’re going, especially after our sovereign, five times your age, failed to control his thirst. You’ll be subject to scrutiny, bringing that…pet.”

The word made my blood boil, but I knew arguing about Asa’s personhood would be fruitless with my mother. Her mind appreciated the vampire, our superior disposition.

“Why should I contemplate the opinions of plebeians? I’m nightbourne, by vein and virtue, the hands of the heirs are mine anyway. Human by my side or no,” I folded my hands in front of my waist and straightened my back.

My mother smirked. “That’s the spirit…” She looked at me with a sparkle in her eye that almost seemed proud. “ It’s not my right to compel you to obey, but just because you can bring him, doesn’t mean you should. You can make other friends, preferably with vampires. If you’re lucky, you may even make a friend of your future husband.”

I sighed and turned back to the window. “Do you know anything about either of them, the heirs?”

“Not much. The eldest, Elias, turned 30 this past summer, so he won’t age from now on. The younger, Elliot, will be your age in just a few months.”

“I like Elliot better already,” I snorted. “The other will talk down to me, no doubt.”

“Of course, and he’d be harder to control. But the younger one still hasn’t found his gift, he’s weaker. Or this is what his family has declared. They may have chosen to keep his gift a secret just as our family has. Besides that, though…there are rumors that Elliot is an indulgent young vampire.”

My brow furrowed, but I didn’t pry. I didn’t want to know what that meant yet. “Do you know how long I have to choose between the two?”

“I expect you to have decided within 40 nights,” she said with unwavering conviction.

I huffed out a breath. Only 40 nights? “From our arrival at court?”

“That’s fine. 40 nights from our arrival at court,” she sighed. “Then you’ll marry whomever you’ve chosen.” She took off her veil and ran a hand through her long, onyx hair. “We should head to our rooms and change. Your father will be expecting us for dinner with the sheep soon,” she tried to joke.

I fell silent, unsure of how to respond. It was difficult to imagine myself married. It was even more difficult to imagine myself married to someone I only knew for 40 nights.

“Don’t fret, daughter,” she chuckled. “This is a privilege, truly. If you’d been born a man, the heirs would’ve already been at our shores, swords in hand.”