Disclaimer: I do not own Eric, Godric or any of the characters/quotes/ideas from TrueBlood.
I remember it all so clearly.
It was a particularly brutal battle for something so meaningless as glory. I was foolish for acting as if I was invincible, recklessly trying to prove myself. That foolishness is what brought Death to me that night.
I barely escaped from the battlefield. Two of my men found me seriously injured, so they carried me to a safer area despite wounds of their own. Not many would have done the same. Most of my soldiers believed it was every man for himself. I was one of those selfish men.
I think of them fondly, though I never knew their names. They knew I was dying yet they stayed by my side. They promised me a hero's farewell and my place with the gods in Valhalla. For this, they are the true heroes, celebrated by the gods.
My soldiers had kept to their word. They found a small cave and built a cot and a fire for me as we waited for the end. One of the men assured me that all would be well and told me not to be afraid. The truth is I wasn't afraid. I was angry. Angry that I was dying. Angry because I wasn't ready. I did not want to give up. I wanted to live. I would've given anything to live.
Fate had no concern with what I wanted, however. I could feel death upon me. The fire and layers of fur did nothing to warm me. The freezing air had settled deep inside my body. Even the blood spilling from my chest was cold and I knew I was almost finished. I began to accept the idea as my eyes closed, becoming harder and harder to keep open. The shouts of my comrades weren't even enough to rouse me.
But I heard a sound that only a man who has killed could know. It was the sound of one struggling for life before falling silent and still. With the little strength I had left, I forced my eyes to open and saw my fate before me. It came in the form of a blood covered boy, leaning over me with a demonic smile that flaunted two sharp fangs.
He was poised like a predator, crouched on my bed, ready to strike. His black hair was matted and dirty. There were tribal designs tattooed on the skin of his arms and one from shoulder to shoulder, dipping down to the top of his chest and back up again. A red trail dripped from his bloody mouth down his neck. He looked at me with an odd expression.
"Are you Death?" I asked the creature.
His lips twitched before curving into a chilling grin. "I am."
"But you're just a little boy." I said.
He looked unsure for a moment then let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. "I'm not."
"My men…?"
Without hesitating, he confirmed what I already knew. "Dead."
"You swine." I had meant it to be an insult to the monster that killed my companions, but my voice lacked fervor. I couldn't bring myself to hate him. I didn't care that he had slaughtered them.
The boy smirked and nodded before saying, "I watched you on the battlefield last night. I never saw anyone fight like you."
"I would fight you now if I could."
At this he laughed, baring his canines. "I know. It's beautiful." His voice was deep but soft when he spoke and his Swedish was perfect although he appeared to be from somewhere more exotic.
I stared at him, wondering what he was trying to do. I growled, "What are you waiting for? Kill me."
For a moment, his face fell and his eyes lost the humor they had earlier. He looked almost hopeful. Like he was pleading as he whispered slowly, "Could you be a companion of Death? Could you walk with me through the world? Through the dark? I'll teach you all I know." He kept his eyes locked on mine. "I'll be your father, your brother, your child." He watched me, waiting for an answer.
Why would he ask this of a dying man? "What's in it for me?"
The seriousness faded from his features. "What you love most: life."
"Life." And with that, my fate was sealed.
The boy was suddenly over me. His mouth was against my neck, his teeth embedded in my skin. It took a moment for me to even realize the pain but when I did, it was excruciating. I could feel the fangs tearing and the sickening pull of blood being sucked out of the wounds. My body was already weak after the battle; I had very little blood left as it was. It didn't take long for me to lose consciousness.
The fire was nearly out when I awoke and I had trouble seeing in the darkness of the cave. I tried to sit up to get a better look, but my muscles were too weak to move. I heard something close to me and I managed to make out the shape of a person seated on the ground. The figure stood up and came closer to where I rested. My eyes strained in the dark and I could make out dark jagged markings on a bare chest. It was the tattooed boy.
I suddenly remembered what had happened before I fainted. He had promised to give me life then attacked me. I started to panic, but then I realized something. I wasn't dead. He had kept his promise. Because of him I was, breathing, feeling, living.
"Who are you? What are you?" I asked.
"You may call me Godric. And…what am I?" The cave echoed with his throaty chuckle. "I have been known as many things over the years. But I suppose the most accurate would be vampire." Godric's eyes searched my face for a reaction.
I know I should've been shocked or unbelieving but I wasn't. Strange as it was, it made sense. Besides, there was no reason for him to lie to me that I could see. "You bit me. Drank my blood. Am I as you are?"
Godric reached out and touched the raw marks he had placed on my neck making me cringe. His skin was cold, colder than my own. His fingers trailed away from the wound, along the muscles in my neck and the curve of my jaw. His icy hand came to rest on the side of my face.
"Not yet. First you must accept a part of me as your own. Will you do that?" He lifted his hand from my face and held his wrist to his mouth. There was a slight audible click as those sharp fangs were unsheathed. Without looking away from me, he bit into his wrist until the blood began to flow freely out. The boy licked his lips, savoring the thick, scarlet liquid.
Godric held out his wrist toward me. He wanted me to drink his blood. I won't lie, this horrified me. The blood gushed from his torn veins and poured onto me. I turned my head away to keep it from dripping on my face. When he spoke, I thought his voice sounded hurt. "Please, Eric. You must."
This made me look back at him. The expression on his face was enough to make me give in. I forgot my disgust and he brought his wrist to my lips. The first taste caused me to push away. I was able to refrain from spitting it out and I swallowed. As soon as I did, I found my self suddenly craving more. I moved back to the vampire's arm and latched on to it. The blood pooled in my mouth and burned down my throat with a pleasurable fire. I felt his energy start to fill me. With each mouthful, the taste became more appetizing and I drank quickly.
I was so engaged by the sensation that I took no notice that I had sat up and was now clinging to Godric's arm with both hands. In fact, I had forgotten Godric completely until he began to push down on my shoulder, prizing me from him. My head was spinning and my body ached for more of his blood. It was the most incredible feeling.
"Come, my child. The sun is rising." Godric helped stand me up. I was hesitant at first, expecting the injuries that had been so painful before to hinder my mobility. To my astonishment, I didn't even feel them. I felt the places that I thought the wounds were and found nothing. They were gone. So were the puncture marks that Godric had made when he bit me. The vampire's blood had healed me.
He led me out and away from the cave into the wilderness. I couldn't see anything, yet he led so certainly it was like he had no problem seeing through the blackness. He settled down on the ground and pulled me down next to him. We kneeled at the edge of a large open grave.
The hole was deep and appeared to be freshly dug. I looked at him questioningly. "This is where we must sleep. To complete your rebirth, hidden from the sun." He said.
"Why can we not just take shelter in the cave?"
For a moment, the vampire seemed confused by the question but then the brightening horizon reminded him of his limited time. "Eric, I am your maker. You will do as I say without question. Lie down." Godric did not raise his voice or stray from his calm tone but I could feel strength in his words. And, though I was his elder, I felt almost afraid to disobey him. Even if I had tried, I don't think I could have refused his command. It was like he gave me an order and my very soul had no choice but to follow it.
As I settled down in that cold, damp earth pit, Godric followed. He then began to pull all of the soil that was around the edge of the hole down in with us. As more layers of dirt fell in, surrounding me, I saw the sky fading from the black of night to the pinkish orange of dawn just before the sun surfaces. Finally, I felt his weight as Godric lied down on top of me and shifted to finish covering us both as much as possible. I closed my eyes as the soil shrouded my face. And that was the last time I saw the sun rise.
The first few seconds of being buried alive are the most terrifying. In that small amount of time, a million things take place. First, you panic. Automatically, your brain realizes you're suffocating, causing your breathing and heart rate to increase to a painfully fast speed. You feel the uncontrollable need to try to dig your way out or scream even when you know you won't be heard.
Immediately after the panic attack, once the fear is set in, you get used to the idea of dying. The alerts your brain was sending out are discontinued and your mind begins to wander. Heart beat drastically decreases, breathing becomes slow and shallow. Your entire body relaxes and the prospect of death doesn't look so bad. It's almost inviting, soothing.
The last few moments are filled with silence except for the invisible creatures that share your dirt bed. You take one last breath and your body and mind shut down as you slip off the edge of life and fall towards death.
My fall was interrupted, though. I found myself caught on a ledge just between life and death. I could feel my body changing, my veins and organs adapting to fit their new functions. My muscles and senses gathered all the unused energy to build themselves up. My mind remained unchanging as it oversaw my transformation and once it was complete, I went into a deep sleeplike state.
As the day went on, we slept together in the safety of the darkness the grave provided. When night finally returned, I awoke with the same panicky dread I started with. I could feel the weight of the earth crushing me and I tried to lift my arms or turn my body to loosen the soil. I was startled when I felt the weight lifting up right off of me. Then I realized it was Godric. He had stood up and started to clear away the dirt that covered me. I reached out and my hand broke through the surface. Godric took hold of my hand and pulled me free. On shaky legs, I stood, choking on the dirt that clogged my airways. I rubbed clear my eyes as I gulped for air. Once I had gathered myself, I looked at Godric.
He was watching me closely, smiling. "How do you feel?"
When I tried to reply, my answer turned into a coughing fit. After I recovered, I said, "I feel surprisingly well despite being buried."
Godric laughed. "Well, I expect that you are hungry. We will go into town and hunt." He stood and lifted himself out of the hole.
I hadn't noticed until he said it but I really was hungry. At least, the craving was similar to hunger. I followed his example and pulled myself up as well. This was unexpectedly easier than I expected it to be, putting barely any strain on my muscles. As Godric and I walked, allowing me to get used to my new body, he informed me what had occurred in my first preternatural slumber.
It had changed me. I had become a vampire. My senses were heightened and my physical strength had increased greatly. In fact, it hadn't quite registered to me that it was night until he told me of my improved sight. He also told me I couldn't be hurt; I healed right away. When we reached town, Godric helped me discover my insatiable appetite for human blood and pointed canines to slit the throats of my victims.
These were Godric's gifts to me. They were better than any honors I could've received by the gods in Valhalla. Now, Godric was my master, my god. And the night was my Valhalla.