Part II—Darkness' Herald
From treetop to treetop, a lithe shadow leapt across the face of the full moon. Gold hair and pale skin, which delineated the figure of a young girl, sparkled and shone in the light of the bright lunar glow. A graceful landing bent not a bough as she lit upon another treetop for but a moment before springing aloft with an explosive leap. Joyfully, her doll like body spiralled and arched through the moon lit sky and a million stars sparkled as jewels in the firmament of the heavens.
"I feel so alive!" she shouted ecstatically as she soared across the sky.
"Alive!?" she said and considered the absurdity.
Clutching herself, Evangeline A. K. McDowell burst into rancorous laughter and began to fall. Rapidly she tried to calm herself but she was a hair too slow. The forest had seen and now reached for her, as if angered by her unnatural performance.
"Oh no," she whispered and desperately tried right herself.
The forest's canopy crashed into her like a team of oxen. Her slight body crashed through the leafless branches as her feather charm dispelled and her innate weight returned. The frozen ground reached for her, a strong grip that pulled her into its hard embrace.
"Ouch." She said, as she shook the stunned fog from her head.
Evangeline lay on her back, the frozen loam of the forest floor beneath her, and looked to the sky. A pearly beam shone through the broken branches, the wake of her fall, and the moon's face—mockingly—gazed down from the firmament.
"Whoa . . ." she muttered, "I should be dead."
"Dead . . ? Ha . . . Ha-ha . . . ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha," she laughed hysterically.
Regaining her composer, she was a Lady after all; she got to her feet and brushed the dirt and twigs from her hair and clothes. The moon was beginning to set.
"It's getting late," she realized, "time to head home."
She gathered magical energies to herself and recast the feather charm. With another leap, she set towards home. She soared, unfettered by gravity's call, and considered her life—or was that unlife in her case: how long had it been?
Time had lost all meaning for Evangeline: what was it now, a hundred years . . . more? For her there was no past—no future, just the cycle and rhythm of the waxing and waning moon. On nights like this, when the moon was at its fullest, she felt the full force of her vampire's heritage. The magic coursed through her body in ecstatic waves and dulled the hunger that had once dominated her existence. She had conquered the hunger and she had learned to survive without blood. The young vampire, thankful for her natural magical affinity, survived by the power of her sorcery: she was able to draw energy from the universe and feed on it. Her power, easier to kindle since rebirth, provided her with all the energy she needed to overcome the hunger and opened a world for her exploration and pleasure.
She had been blessed; she knew as she leapt though the night air and headed for home. Smiling and revelling in her freedom, she thought of her unheralded benefactor, the man who had provided so much—the sorcerer. He had been dead when she had found his cottage and, whether by chance or providence, (Evangeline neither knew nor cared) she took advantage of it. The cottage—abandoned and unlocked, anyway—looked like a six-sided crude shack with a thatched roof and a crumbling chimney. Evangeline could vividly remember her surprise when she first peered inside; the cottage was far more than its outward appearance suggested. Where Evangeline had expected to find a rundown hovel, she had found a large room—a room far larger than was possible from the look of the exterior and, to her greater surprise, constructed of well-fitting stone blocks: a master mason's handiwork. Inside, a hexagonal hearth, the height of her waist, dominated the room's centre. Magically, it lit when she had entered and its merry flames chased the lurking shadows to the corners of the cottage. In its light, a skeleton lay revealed and askew at the foot of a staircase: the old occupant, the victim of a broken neck caused by a mundane fall had lain on the floor. The bones and the thick blanket of dust, attested to the passage of time since the sorcerer had died. Obviously, he had no further need for the cottage: so Evangeline made it her home. Her only regret, as the sorcerer's unknown heir, was that she had been unable to thank him for her home or the vast collection of magical lore in her library.
The cold wind whipped and tugged at her long hair and summoned her back to the present as she gracefully landed like a little bird upon another treetop. She was at the side of a narrow road that wound through her forest.
Evangeline knew from whence the road came but cared not for the Lord of Pfalzgrafenweiler or his little town. She ignored her nearest neighbours absolutely and they returned the favour. They where fearful of the Black Forest anyway and tended not to venture anywhere near her home. Only once had anyone ever stumbled upon her solitude and that unlucky lout, she remembered with amusement, had provided her with entertainment and, although she hadn't needed it, a meal. It had been fun, as she recalled playing the coy helpless child for him—the fool—and she had especially enjoyed the look in his eyes when he had sought to take her by force. He had discovered, too late, who would take whom.
Revelling in the memory, Evangeline chuckled and checked the road for people. She had been careless, once or twice, and had been seen leaping across the dirt track, which called itself a road. Thankfully, those weary travelers had been either too drunk or too sleepy to really believe what they had seen. Still, they had urged their mounts to quicken—just in case. Below her, the Black Forest pushed ominously to the roadside and its overhanging reach made most people uncomfortable.
Surprised by unexpected motion, Evangeline spied a young woman running and staggering on the road below. Obviously, the woman was running from the town of Pfalzgrafenweiler and, considering her general state of terror and undress, something unsavoury had happened to her. Evangeline stilled herself in her treetop perch and used her aura to investigate: the taint of death and despair rose from the woman's soul. She watched and the girl dove into the dark forest to escape. Curious, Evangeline continued to watch the unanticipated drama unfold below her. She looked further up the road and saw two knights carefully picking their way in her direction. They stopped where the young woman had dove through the forest's wall.
"You going in?" the first asked as he contemplated the trees before him.
"You's kidding, right?" the second answered, "I ain't going in there. We'd only g' lost anyway. B'sides, the demons'n'beasts of the forest will likely eat her 'fer dawn comes."
"I don't know," said the first, "Lord Pfalzgrafenweiler was pretty damned adamant about it."
"Lord Pfalzgrafenweiler? . . . You mean Lord Eunuch, eh?" laughed the second, cruelly. "He gonna pay for his fidelity, eh—or lack now ain't he? I imaging our Lady's daddy'll be pretty put out to hear his little girl ain't gonna produce no heir. Hah, if Lord Eunuch survives his injury, he be facing the block—I tell ya. I hope the headman is sloppy too: I heard the wench he tried to take got spoilt by a mean slice across her eye. It was the young pretty one too."
"The young one?" sighed the first, "Damn, I was hoping to know her. 'tis a damn shame too, that is. I have to admit though; I wish I could thank the little lady for teaching Lord Pfalzgrafenweiler some humility, the man has no sense of honour."
"It's cold tonight, ya wanna head back?" The second asked.
"Yeah, let's take it slow though and if anyone asks when we get back, we'll just say she got eaten by a badger or something. Besides, no one really expects a girl to survive out here on her own anyway," replied the first
The two knights turned their mounts and began a slow trot back towards town.
"Well not a normal girl." Evangeline chuckled softly from her perch, "Perhaps I'll go have a look at the young knights' fancy, myself."
She silently jumped down from the tree and padded her way along the forest's floor, softly. In the distance, she could hear the girl sobbing through laboured breaths. Evangeline continued onward and felt the air of death grow thick between the trees. She cast the glamour upon herself—one of the many useful spells gleaned from her library at home—and took the form of a seductive woman. She approached the cold and mostly naked girl and stood before her. What a pity, Evangeline thought as she saw the vicious gash, which marred the girl's face. The poor thing had only just ripened to adulthood and now would carry a scar for life, if she were to survive at all. For the first time in a long time, she felt anger toward humans and their cruelty. Evangeline sensed death moving ever closer to the young figure and knew that the girl was not destined to survive. Oh well, thought Evangeline, a little snack here isn't going to make a difference one way or another. She smiled and her fangs reflected the cold moonlight.
"Who . . ?" the girl asked weakly as she noticed Evangeline.
"Be calm my child," Evangeline soothed melodically, "I'll take the pain away"
"Mother?" she whispered.
Evangeline knelt and placed her arms around the girl. She feigned a loving hug and felt the girl's tears soak into the fabric of her mantle.
"There, there," Evangeline cooed, "you have been through much and your journey can end now."
She lowered her lips to the girl's neck, as if to kiss her, and plunged her fangs into the young woman's flesh. The girl's spasms racked her body as her life passed to Evangeline. The blood flowed into her mouth and the girl's memories flowed into her mind. Enraptured, Evangeline fed on the girl's blood and essence, savouring its sweet yet bitter taste. The girl, in her arms, weakened rapidly and seemed to welcome death.
"Mother, did I . . . did I do right?" she whispered as the last of her life flowed to Evangeline.
Sated, Evangeline lowered the limp girl to the ground and did something out of character. Placing the girl restfully on her back, Evangeline closed the girl's still open eye and crossed her arms over her stilled bosom. She stood and looked upon the eternally resting girl and, surprisingly, felt moisture in the corner of her eyes.
"Yeah kid, you did right." Evangeline whispered and brushed away tears.
"I'm getting soft," she chastised herself as she leapt from treetop to treetop through the frozen sky under the light of a setting moon.