The Lightning Vampyre
Me: Here's another one. Enjoy! Apart from the obvious existence of vampyres, the events that occur in this fic are kept as close to the historical truth as possible.
9th September 1960
You know the feeling you have some mornings when you just know that today something horrible is going to happen? That sinking feeling of suspicion and the fear, like wanting to look over your shoulder wherever you go?
Sometimes, before something bad was about to happen, vampyres could sense it, know before even. In fact it was quite common in vampyres, a sixth sense for foreboding, unforeseen danger, an instinct, if you like. Eliás dearly wished he could.
It was something about himself he would change. Would it make him wiser? More prepared for life, maybe? Eliás had never had that ability, that gut feeling. He had his intuition, yes, he could make intelligent predictions, but not something unforeseen. Not ever. Not even when his father passed away – he had been having a great day up until he got home, threw his bag down by the stairs, walked through into the kitchen and found his beloved father sprawled on the floor, his eyes closed like he had just decided to lie down there and then and have a nap, his body cold and still. Every day to this one, Eliás had wondered, when he had been so close to his father, why he hadn't even had so much as an inkling when his life ended? It was like a sign that he wasn't caring enough to feel it, or too ignorant to pay attention to it. He often wondered whether working with sick people, especially during the Wars, many of which would die, had desensitised him to it, like it would a medical doctor or a nurse, or even a veterinary surgeon.
And then, when something awful did happen and the other vampyres were gathered, explaining to each other how they had just had that feeling today, Eliás would sit in silence.
He woke up completely as normal that day. It was summer, and so the sun had yet to set, he drew back his curtains to watch it, even if it did make him feel sick, it was worth it. There was still birdsong coming from the various nests that adorned the ledges and crannies of the castle wall. Opening the window and hooking the one curtain back, he continued getting dressed in the shadowy half of the room, just enjoying looking at the streaming light. The room looked entirely different when lit by daylight as opposed to electricity. Once dressed in black trousers and white shirt, his white lab-tunic, which he had practically lived in since he had graduated, pulled on and done up, all except the top few buttons, he reluctantly pulled the curtain shut again and locked his room, heading for the teacher's lounge where he could find his post.
Pulling the bundle of letters out from amongst the various essays, thinking how his cubby hole had become just like all the others, even Anděl set written work from time to time. Flicking through the thick envelopes, he scowled. Now, instead of the Nazi swastika printed beneath the stamp, there was the communist hammer and sickle. Not again... Ever since the Coup d'état of 1948, the communist party KSČ only two years after having been voted in had placed a freeze on political elections. In other words, they were not moving out. He had received visits from political men, and even at some points Soviet officials, sometimes offering him vast amounts of money to work for them, sometimes full-blown threatening him to work for them. The capacity of the work was as undefined. The ones that had come with generous offers he had sarcastically declined, the ones that had come with violent threats he had sent home on stretchers.
There was not a lot they could threaten him with. A vamp that can stop bullets was, in their view, impenetrable. Eliás certainly hoped that was the impression he had left upon them. Letting out an impatient huff, he shoved them back into the pigeon hole and took himself off in the direction of the Dining Hall.
Looking around the door, he saw the first few fledglings wearily digging into their food, but not another professor in sight. Odd. Childishly maybe, he closed the door again and headed back for the teacher's lounge, not wanting to have to eat by himself. He knew he was early, but certainly not the earliest, Friedrich would have been up and about and probably riding one of his own horses well before anyone else was up. Crossing the hall, he saw Veronika walking with a vengeance towards him.
"Veronika..."
"Thank the Goddess I've found you..." she interrupted, her face its usual stressed self, but this time there was something different, her eyes were red. "Věra asked me to find you."
"Where is everyone?"
"In the High Priestess' chambers." She said, her lip trembling as she looked away briefly to hide her red eyes, "Adéla passed away last night."
Adéla's room was much how Eliás had expected it to be when he arrived. Dark, solemn, mournful. Tears abundant, each and every person held a little candle in their hand, holding it up for her in pride. Only Anděl had not cried yet, his jaw set and his lips tightly pressed together, holding Lýdie in his arms as she sobbed. Friedrich was letting tears slide too, not bothering to wipe them away. Even Věra, whom Eliás thought he would never see cry, was shaking, her cheeks stained, the hand that wasn't holding the candle was clenched into a tight fist.
She had slipped away in her sleep. Peacefully. There had been no pain, no fear. She never even knew. Eliás wondered if she ever went to bed for the day and wondered whether or not she would wake up. He supposed he should have seen this coming – she had been coughing for years now, ever since he was Marked and moved to the Prague Castle, it was the first case of incomplete health he had ever seen. She always assured everybody that it was normal in older vampyres. When all it did was turn her into a walking timer. Adéla was the kind of person you never expected to die, you just always thought she would be there, complaining about some petty thing or another, or making her fledglings laugh. Such a warm, vivacious person was difficult to imagine in any other state.
Věra was the first to speak, and lift the silence. "I will announce it to the fledglings." She said, biting her lip, giving her a face that made her look like she was on a murder mission. Eliás bit his lip too. Věra was the one that Adéla would have named as her successor. She was extremely strong, sensible, she would be a good High Priestess. But she wouldn't be Adéla.
Eliás finally allowed himself to breathe. He couldn't cry. His mind was already in working mode. It was like a cold, callous shell protecting him. He had to be able to deal with this, just like in any death that might occur in the Infirmary; he had to be able to deal with it, because nobody else would. It was something that he couldn't help, it was automatic. He would walk through this with an emotional windscreen before him, and not until the storm was over would he break down. He wasn't the type who cried easily. Would he even cry at all? A part of him dearly hoped so, and yet another part of him dearly hoped not.
"I know this may seem forward..." said Eliás, "But we should probably start thinking about her entailment and funeral arrangements."
They all looked up at him. "Eliás is right." Said Friedrich, "She cannot lie here forever."
"Then let us commence." Said Edita, the Spells and Rituals Mistress, wiping her eyes, "I'll have the groundsmen construct a funerary pyre."
"Do we even know where she kept her will?" asked Anděl, rocking Lýdie gently in his arms.
"She has a safe in her study..." said Lýdie, "It's probably in there."
Eliás rolled his eyes, his patience wearing thin. "And does anyone know the combination?"
"So who wants to open it?"
Everyone stared at the envelope on the table before them, not even wanting to so much as touch it. Eliás wasn't sure which task was harder; opening the safe, or opening the will itself. Adéla's study was still warm, it still smelled like her, it still felt like her, the envelope wasn't ready to be opened yet. Lýdie was still too upset to even glance at it, her head tucked in beneath Anděl's chin, her body still with shock. The Swordmaster sighed heavily, before reaching forward to the table and taking the envelope in his fingers. He slit it silently with a small knife from his belt, and pulled out a large wad of paper.
"She wrote a letter to us..." he said, wetting his lip, "'My children...'" he began, "'If you are reading this, then I am long gone. I don't want you to be upset. All you need to know is that I am with the Goddess in the Otherworld, and putting a good word in for each and every one of you. Věra, please do not be sad for me, I want my farewell to be a happy one, my darling, promise me you won't try to be too brave. Remember the ultimate act of strength is to feel. I could not have asked for a better sister or advisor. Friedrich, my dear friend, it was an honour to call you my colleague for our three-hundred years, your wisdom has forgotten more than mine has ever learned, your kindness has moved mountains, your good nature brings our species the hope it so needs. Anděl...'" Anděl felt the tears well, "'...only such a brave and true warrior would I trust to protect this family, because as we well know, they are a hopeless bunch of sitting ducks.'" He allowed himself to snort, "'Lýdie, my sweetheart, dry your eyes. To see you find the true love you deserve after all these years has brought me joy I didn't know the Goddess could give. Your level-headedness and reliability hold us all together more than you know, have faith and never doubt yourself, you have the world at your feet. Edita, Edita, I shall miss our long chats over coffee most dearly, my sister, but please don't let your Sixth Formers demolish the S&R block again, I'm still in debt even now you know. And Eliás, so young and yet so wise, you are worth more than your weight in gold to the world and even more to us. Out of all the fledglings that have passed through my care, you are the one that has impressed me more than any other. You are destined for great things, and don't you forget it, especially not as of now. I'm not sorry, so you had better not be, plus, I know you can't resist a challenge.
Farewell my brothers, sisters, sons, daughters and friends. I love you all. Merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again.
Yours eternally,
Adéla Horáčková.'"
Everyone sat in silence, like it was her voice that had said it and they were trying to memorise forever what it sounded like. Anděl's eyes went wide as they darted down the page, moving quickly from left to right as he reread the words over and over again. "She's named a successor." He said, his face clearly trying to hide his astonishment as he reread it yet again just to make sure that he was reading it in the correct context. "But I don't understand..." he uttered, "It can't be right..."
"What's wrong?" asked Lýdie, placing a hand on his chest delicately.
"It says here..." he said, taking a pause, "That the person she wants as her heir..." he looked at Eliás, "Is you."
Eliás glared at Anděl like he had insulted his mother. "How can you mess about at a time like this???" he scolded, "Is that how you treat Adéla's memory???"
Anděl looked horrified at the suggestion. "No! Never! Eliás I'm serious, she's named you!"
Eliás got up from his seat on the sofa and strode over to Anděl, snatching the paper from between his fingers and scouring the tiny print. Anděl was right. He immediately began chuckling as he read it. "What? Is this Adéla's idea of a joke?" his expression of laughter turned to one of bewilderment, passing it to Věra for inspection, "I know she thought I was the biggest girl in the place but this is taking it too far!"
Věra read the will quietly. "Adéla would have wanted to go out with a bang." She said, "I can imagine, she's watching us from the Otherworld with a bucket of popcorn and laughing her head off." She suddenly appeared to have seen something below the statement, "Wait, there's more." She said, "'P.S. In case you are all wondering if I am high on an illegal substance or have finally crossed the line into clinical insanity, may I offer my deepest, most deadly sincerity concerning Eliás. I have thought long and hard about this and indeed it has not been an easy decision to make. You have entrusted to me your lives and I ask only that you trust me one more time. I know that I do not need to explain my decision, his intelligence, affinity and entire person are most perfectly suited to the post, except for his Y chromosome, which, as I'm sure you will agree with me, is a pathetic excuse for a Y chromosome anyway. I would trust no one so much with what I have held so dear. And so as of the moment of my death, I name Dr. Eliás Svboda as the High Priest of the House of Night of Prague, Czechoslovakia.'"
Eliás was gobsmacked. "What was that she was saying about crossing the line into clinical insanity?" he said, his voice hard.
"Adéla is right." Said Věra suddenly, "If Eliás were female the decision is an absolute no-brainer, forgive the modern slang."
"The Vampyre Council will never approve it."
"Shekinah was a good friend of Adéla's."
"The decision is not Shekinah's alone."
"Well..." said Friedrich, "If the House's Council approves it, I don't think the Vampyre Council can do anything about it unless they can prove that Eliás is clearly unsuitable."
"I would like to draw to everyone's attention that I am a man!!! In case you all hadn't noticed!!!" Eliás said, irritated, pointing at his head, and then moving his hands down so as to indicate to his masculine figure.
Edita chuckled. "Don't worry dear..." she said, casting a mocking eye over him, "We'd noticed."
Věra raised her hand into the air. "All in favour of Eliás, raise your hands."
Eliás blinked softly in bafflement as every vampyre in the room raised their hand. This wasn't a joke anymore... Everyone was looking at him, smiling. They, actually wanted him to take over, to watch over him like his children when they themselves were older, wiser, more brilliant than he. They were his teachers, for crying out loud!
"I don't know..." he muttered.
Friedrich got up and sat himself down next to Eliás, who appeared to be lost in his thoughts alone. "My boy..." he said, "Do you remember that woman who came here, in forty-five, a Captain of the German Army? Do you remember how she held her own?" Eliás remembered. "The rule that says men can't be Nyx's avatars, is right next to the one that says women can't join the army. Each and every person, male or female, is a soldier, an officer of the Armed Forces or not. And each and every vampyre is an avatar of Nyx, be they male, female, High Priestesses or warriors."
"But I'm not brave like she was."
"You don't know how brave you are. Not until you test yourself. You have very little self-confidence outside of your comfort zones, but who doesn't? You are stronger than you think you are, and you just have to believe it."
"I'm not Adéla. I don't know how to be Adéla."
"You don't have to be Adéla, you just have to be you. Trust me, you is all you need. So go and make the history you've worked so hard for."
"I never tried to make history." He said, "Only the future."
There was so much to do. Eliás had never actually had to deal with something like this before. There were all her financial workers, solicitors, friends to inform. Věra and Edita were named executors of her will. Clever woman, he thought, she had not made him one so that he could not get out of this. Probate had to be granted, so her matters could be distributed and resolved. All her accounts logged and dissolved. The human government had to be informed in some way, as did the Vampyre Council, although Shekinah had already been contacted with a view to attending the funeral and Eliás was fairly sure that as a result Duantia would have been appropriately notified. And what were they going to do with all her things? Not to mention what they were going to do about him.
Early in the morning, after most of the others were in bed, he sat in her study, going through her safe and sorting things into piles. It wasn't difficult, most of her affairs were so orderly that organising it wouldn't take too much effort, there was just so much of it. Letters, bank statements, invoices, insurance details – extensive ones, tax forms, payroll documents, staff budgets, licensing for medical practice and storage of dangerous drugs as well as for the upkeep of a listed building, health and safety policies, electricity and water bills, all for Prague Castle. There was no denying it, Adéla had been a financial tycoon. It was like running a multimillion koruna business.
Heaving another pile of opened letters onto his lap, he began checking the contents of the torn envelopes, putting them into piles on her desk. He pulled his chair closer to it, he was sitting in the chair normally occupied by the visitor, still unable to sit in hers. The largest letter in the pile caught his eye. It was an A4 envelope, with a piece of cardboard inside it to keep its contents impeccable. Across the back an 'URGENT' was stamped in red ink, the communist hammer and sickle printed beneath the postage stamp.
Were they sending propaganda to her too? They had never sent him anything like this. Pushing the torn flap out of the way with his fingers, he pulled out a think wodge of paper, with a letter addressed to Adéla at the top.
"Dear Ms. Horáčková," it began,
"It has come to our attention whilst evaluating the economy of the Prague House of Night that the regular surpassing of spending limits in this institution is placing the economy of the Czechoslovak Socialist Republic in compromise."
Immediately Eliás' face deteriorated to one of silent anger and disbelief. Spending limits? The rest of the country was under financial lockdown but the House of Night retained immunity due to exemption from most human taxes and funding from the Vampyre Council. He snorted. Meaning that in their dealings they were pumping too much money into the hands of the people, and less into the government's pocket. Spending limits indeed.
"Due to the refusal of cooperation by yourself and your members of staff on not only this matter but others before it..."
He frowned. So that what this was about. The only other member of staff to have direct contact with members of the KSČ was him.
"...the bureaucracy sees fit to reclaim the land previously secured by the Vampyre Council regarding the heritage of Prague Castle. This claim will be effective as if this day next week.
Yours Sincerely,
Ota Šik,
Minister for Economy, Central Committee, KSČ."
Eliás let the letter in his hands rest against the desk, the information that his eyes found so shocking channelling into him by his fingers rather than his sight. On further inspection, the wodge of paper was in fact a list of legal documents sent to prove that this was legal. Tilting the paper up again, he looked for the date printed neatly near the top of the page. 7th September 1960.
He shook his head to himself, his eye-line hard and cold, his jaw fixing. "Bastards."
R&R!
