Author's note: This will wrap up Blood and Choice. Just want to say Thank You to everyone who has read and reviewed! Happy Holidays!
Blood and Choice
Chapter 15
Sundown was approaching. He could feel it, as always, a sixth sense that told him when it was safe, and warned him when the sunlight would sear him to dust. Assurjan sat cross-legged on Raema's cot, staring at his hands in the flickering candlelight. The events on Hlormaren's rooftop, just a few nights ago, were indistinct in his memory. He still was not sure he could explain what he had done, nor do it again. If he were fortunate, he wouldn't have to.
But it didn't matter. Raema was alive, and they were free. No one knew of this cave, nestled in the foothills lining the West Gash. It was not a permanent home, but it was comfortable enough, and kept him sheltered from the sun and anyone who might be hunting for him.
And Raema was with him- truly with him, as she had not been in all those months after her cure of vampirism, when they both had been distant and cool with each other. Assurjan was not a religious man, but he found himself sending prayers of gratitude to every deity he could think of.
He had lost his clan, and that loss left an empty place inside him. They had been of his bloodline, and had come to vampirism through his own actions, whether directly or through another with his blood. They had been bound to him, looked to him for leadership, for protection from the other clans, from the mortals who- often rightly- feared and hated them. He had failed them all, and it was a weight he would bear for the rest of his undead life.
But he had saved Raema. It did not redeem him, he knew. It was his own fault that she had been put in such danger, over and over. But she lived, and the alternative to that did not bear thinking about. The one thing he did remember with clarity from that night at Hlormaren was the moment she had opened her eyes. She'd gazed up at him, dark eyes dazed but alive. He had never been so relieved to see anything else.
Smiling to himself, he got to his feet, and wound his way through the twisting cavern, sure-footed in the dark. In the deepest reaches of the cave, there was a small pool, fed by a spring that sent a continual trickle of water out to the cave's entrance. Here at the pool, Raema had set a few candles on the rocks, beside her towel. She stood waist-deep in the water, wringing out her dark hair.
When she caught sight of him, she grinned. "Will you join me, my lord?"
Assurjan sat at the water's edge to remove his boots, then set aside his robe. "You should not call me my lord any longer, Raema," he said. Ignoring his trousers, he waded in. The water in this subterranean pool was pleasantly warm. "I have no clan to lead."
"You're still an Ancient," she said softly, coming closer. Candlelight made the water on her pale skin sparkle like diamonds. "You could-"
"No," he said firmly. "I will turn no more vampires. I want no more followers, no clan. Only you, Raema." He reached out to trace the pale line that adorned her neck, from one side to the other. It was the only remaining evidence of how close she had come to dying.
She moved closer still, dark eyes sparkling like the droplets on her skin. "Well," she said, running her fingers over the Ashlander tattoos that decorated his chest. "It'll be difficult for me to adjust, my lord. I'm not sure what I'll call you, now."
He felt a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You are a very competent Hand," he murmured. He drew her closer, one hand cupping her cheek. Beneath his fingertips, he could feel her pulse throbbing behind her jaw... strong, sweet, just as alive as she made him feel. "I trust you will think of something."
Raema's eyes were very wide and very dark as she smiled up at him. "I'll do my best... my love."
Warmth flooded through him, as if he were standing in the sunlight again, after so many decades. "That," he breathed, just before their lips met, "will do very nicely, my love."
Dram Bero's manor was just as Raema remembered it, except that beyond the dark, abandoned front rooms, it was not the Hlaalu councilor who waited for her. Irarak seemed both surprised and relieved to see her. A few other vampires were talking to him; Raema recognized them from the dungeon below Hlormaren. At Irarak's request, they left the room, and Irarak hurried to her side.
"Raema, thank you for coming. I wasn't sure I should expect you."
She clasped his hand in greeting. The vampire was incredibly powerful now, enough that she could sense his presence in her mind's eye, just as she could with Assurjan. "Irarak," she murmured. "You're looking well."
"Thanks to Assurjan," he said seriously. "I am not fool enough to think that he intended
to gift me with such power, not after what I did. But I am grateful, all the same. Please, tell that to him... since it seems that I won't have the opportunity to tell him myself."
"I'm sorry," Raema murmured. "He felt it best not to come. He... would prefer to distance himself from the Hlaalu."
Irarak gave her a wry smile. "So would I. But it seems I have no choice. Since Curio died in the fighting, Dram Bero has taken control of the House. He asked for my aid. There are thirty-seven Hlaalu vampires who survived Hlormaren, and he doesn't know what to do with them."
Thirty-seven... Bloody Oblivion, Raema thought grimly. All those Hlaalu, turned without their even knowing it, just for doing their jobs. "Can you still Command them?"
Irarak shook his head. "I'm not sure how I was able to do it at all. Perhaps Quarra's power over them was transferred to me along with everything else. In any case, they are no longer new enough for that. And they are Quarra's bloodline, not mine; but I promised Bero I would take care of them."
"It seems you've always been destined to lead vampires not of your making," Raema murmured.
Irarak gazed at her steadily, with a calm strength in his pale eyes that she had never seen in him before. "Someone must," he said. "They cannot be allowed to freely roam the island. I will be their Ancient, now that I have the strength I need to lead them, and keep them safe. And we will have allies in House Hlaalu, now that so many of the House are undead."
Raema gave him a sad smile. "Assurjan is an Ancient, and we allied with House Hlaalu, too. I hope you will have better luck than we did."
"Assurjan." Irarak gave her a steady look. "I know he cannot forgive my betrayal, but I hope he understands my reasons. He would have done the same in my place. Raema, I do not wish to be his rival. As he rebuilds Juraene clan-"
"No," Raema interrupted. "Juraene clan is gone, and we will not attempt to rebuild what we had."
Irarak noted the "we" in her words, she could tell. He nodded in understanding. "So what will you do? Where will you go?"
Raema had no idea where she and Assurjan would go, but Irarak did not need to know that. She said carefully, "Irarak, Assurjan is not your enemy... but he is not your friend, either."
The vampire sighed, and folded his hands at his waist. "I understand." Then he added, "It's Gulmon, now. Again. I've taken back my mortal name. Irarak of Clan Berne has done unforgivable things... and I refuse to be that man any longer. Gulmon of Clan Droth can do better- will do better."
Raema smiled; she couldn't help it. He was so like Assurjan, even to the determination to improve himself, and his vampires. "I wish you the best of luck," she said softly. "Goodbye, my lord Droth."
"Goodbye, Hand of the Ancient."
Despite the late hour, the Hlaalu Plaza in Vivec bustled with activity. High-ranking members came and went from Curio Manor, while others milled about in small groups, talking intently. The recent events at Hlormaren had indeed shaken the House. Raema threaded her way through the crowd, leaving behind Bero's manor and Vvardenfell's newest vampire Ancient. She was a bit worried that someone from Hlormaren would recognize her from the fight, but she was able to leave the Plaza without incident.
It was a cool, humid night; an earlier rainstorm had brought a refreshing breeze and left rainwater dripping onto the lower canton levels from above. Assurjan would be waiting for her... but she had one more stop to make.
As she rounded the corner of St. Delyn, she smiled at the sight of light spilling out from under Jole's door. The door opened before she had a chance to knock.
"Raema!" Jole exclaimed, delighted. He pulled her into an embrace. "This is perfect! I was afraid I wouldn't have a chance to say goodbye."
"Goodbye?" Raema repeated. Belatedly, she realized he was wearing a pack on his shoulders. Behind him, his tiny home seemed startlingly empty.
He held her at arms' length, eying the scar that crossed her throat. "I'm so glad to see you," he said, sincerely. "Come on, walk with me."
He shut the door, and she fell into step beside him. "Where are you headed this time? Not just a hunting trip, is it," she added, with a glance at the overstuffed pack he carried.
"No," he said. "There's too much... confusion... with the vampires here. Too many who have been turned too recently, through no fault of their own. Too many moral questions for me to sort through. It wouldn't feel right, hunting down all those Hlaalu vampires." He cast her a wry smile. "I'm headed someplace where the hunting will be simpler."
Raema was quiet for a long moment as they crossed the bridge to the Redoran canton. "You could help them," she suggested softly. "Cure them. You helped me."
"Well, you're a special case," Jole said, his grin gleaming in the darkness. She smiled, and they walked for a few more minutes in friendly silence, crossing back to the Hlaalu canton.
At the bridge to the mainland, with the lights of Ebonheart's port sparkling through the trees, Jole paused in the shadows. "Raema... Moral dilemmas aside, I swore an oath on my wife's name. Someday, that will lead me back to Vvardenfell, to finish what I've started. For your sake, I hope you are not here to see it."
Raema swallowed. "So do I, Jole. But I wouldn't worry about it." She smiled sadly. "Assurjan will outlast us both, I'm sure."
Jole hesitated, and his reply was not what she had expected. "How old do you think I am, Raema?"
"What?" She frowned. "Thirty years, maybe?"
He laughed softly, and laid a hand on her shoulder. "I was twenty-eight when I was turned, and I spent perhaps six years as a vampire. But I was cured eighty-three years ago."
Raema gaped at him, which only made him smile wider. "A side effect of spending some time undead, I believe. Just like vampires, aging doesn't seem to happen. There's no reason to believe you won't experience the same."
"That's... that's..." She couldn't find the words.
Jole's expression turned serious. "I meant what I told you. I don't deal well with moral questions about which vampires deserve to die. I'm just a hunter. But maybe, someday, I'll come back, and find no one to hunt." He paused, spreading his hands with a rueful look. "I'll leave the curing of vampires to a better man than I. Or woman."
His words touched on the shadow of an idea, a thought that Raema had hardly yet dared to consider. Curing vampires required the help of the gods, and even aiding just those on Vvardenfell would be a never-ending task...
But she knew exactly where she would begin.
Jole gave her a final grin, and a last, bone-creaking hug. "Be safe, my friend," he murmured, and strode away toward Ebonheart.
Still stunned, Raema watched him go, until she lost sight of him among the trees. She wasn't sure what to think about his revelation. It had always sat uncomfortably in her mind, the knowledge that her lifetime would be just a short blink compared to the Ancient's, but now...
She felt herself smiling as she headed towards Assurjan. His presence glowed in her mind, a mental warmth that led her unerringly to where he waited among the trees to the north.
He stood up as she approached, dark robes nearly invisible in the night. Wordlessly, Raema embraced him, delighting in the fact that she could do it, that she could feel his arms around her. They stood in silence for a long moment.
"Ready to go?" He murmured, when she stepped back.
She smiled up at him. "Yes."
With a flicker of light, Assurjan's Levitation spell lifted him off the ground. He reached out to her.
Raema took his hand, and together they rose into the night.