Chapter 4
Nathaniel rose and spun around furiously. It was the man who had attacked him the previous night, standing a few feet away and regarding him with a mocking disdain.
Nathaniel launched himself at the man. Almost effortlessly, the man side-stepped to allow Nathaniel to fly past, bang against a tree, and slide to the ground in an undignified manner.
"Do not waste your efforts. You are as yet far too weak to actually harm me. Perhaps after you have fed you will be up to the task." The man punctuated his statement with a derisive laugh.
Nathaniel glared at the man from the foot of the tree. The desire to kill him was strong, but the desire to know what was happening to him was stronger. Nathaniel slowly rose to his feet and composed himself slightly.
With a baleful stare, Nathaniel addressed him.
"Who...what...are you?.. A demon come to curse me for my evil thoughts?"
The man only smiled. An amused and cruel smile.
"Ahh...I see you have questions! Of course! Shall I enlighten you?" A slight French accent colored his words.
He motioned for Nathaniel to come nearer. Nathaniel acquiesced and drew closer.
"Do you not yet grasp the difference in your own self? Do you not feel your senses for the first time? The strength in your limbs?"
The man let the words sink in before forging ahead.
"The term your mind is no doubt searching for but unable to accept is, 'Vampyre'. It is what I am...and it is now what you are. You have...as you most poetically put to me during our first encounter...witnessed your last sunrise."
The man paused to see if Nathaniel recognized the word. Not seeing the light of understanding in his face, the man continued.
"I am perhaps known to you. My name is François l'Olonoise." said the man proudly. He paused again in anticipation of recognition.
Nathaniel did recognize the name. François l'Olonoise was a notorious pirate known for his immense cruelty. Nathaniel had heard Gabriell speak of him. But that depraved individual was thought to be long dead...slaughtered on the island of Las Pertas by the natives residing there. He looked closely at François but saw nothing there that would help him understand. The man François l'Olonoise had not been heard from since 1668.
"It is not possible..."
"So you have heard of me!" François looked pleased. "Do you doubt it so after the events of the past two nights? What do you imagine I may gain from inventing a tale for you?"
It was all too confusing for Nathaniel. He shook his head.
"Who you are is of no real consequence. The important question is, why...did you do this to me?"
François appeared to be slightly insulted that his identity was so easily brushed aside.
"I assure you it was not my intent. Your pet interrupted me as I was about to end your life and your pitiful pistol slowed me long enough for those pesky laborers to come rushing in. ...So...here you stand before me. Be grateful for I do not bestow the gift willingly."
Nathaniel stared at him in astonishment.
"Gift? You consider this bloodlust a gift? ...My will was barely sufficient to prevent me from taking the life of my beloved! I now know I can never return to the bosom of my family for risk of harming them!"
"Distance will not sate your lust, foolish one. You now struggle with the might of the emotion you inherited with the change. That which you were feeling the night of our encounter has been multiplied. It will never leave you. Your only recourse is to act upon it and be done with it! You will be drawn back to them no matter what you do."
François paused to assess the impact of his words.
"My words have the ring of truth, do they not? ...You cannot deny what you feel."
Nathaniel stood motionless. François' words were incomprehensible, inconceivable, impossible.
"I cannot! They are my family!"
François looked at Nathaniel as one would look at a child.
"Be assured...you can and you will. They are unworthy of your loyalty. You are beyond them now. They exist to nourish you...nothing more. They are cattle. And worst of all, they now serve only to weigh you down in spirit. It is something you must attend to. Once your formative emotion is dispatched, you will be unburdened by it."
Nathaniel backed away and shook his head.
"Lies! I will leave this place...I will never do as you say!"
François drew himself up to his full height and looked at Nathaniel with contempt.
"I will not hear of it! If you feel incapable of settling your troubled spirit, I shall do it for you."
Nathaniel stared at the man in shock at this pronouncement.
"Why would you do such a thing? If it is my burden as you claim, the decision should rest with me alone!"
The vampyre leaned forward.
"Do not pretend your fate is yours to decide. You are of me. My spawn are more powerful and more pure than the deficient offspring of other tawdry wretches common to our race. I will not see you diminished by petty attachments that mean less than nothing. I would sooner end you than allow you to exist in a contemptible and pitiable state. Be glad that is not my whim...for I have done such a thing before!"
Nathaniel's mind raced. What the vampyre suggested was unthinkable. The thoughts danced in a dark corner of his mind...for there was a nagging truth in the words. But he could not bear thinking of it. He put his hands to his temples as the horror of it washed over him. Nathaniel stepped forward suddenly and faced François.
"End me if that is the alternative! I cannot do as you say. And if it is true that my previous sinful thoughts will drive me to sinful actions, then I have become a rabid dog that deserves no less than a rapid journey to oblivion!"
François' eyes narrowed as he peered at Nathaniel. He moved forward with incomprehensible speed, grabbed Nathaniel by the neck, and lifted him off the ground. He held him this way for a few moments while Nathaniel struggled to free himself. Finally, he dropped him to the ground.
"No...you do not really wish to perish. You cling to life even as you sermonize on your noble choice. Perhaps you have deluded yourself, but do not imagine I share your delusion."
François spun around and began to walk away from Nathaniel. He paused and glanced over his shoulder.
"I will leave you to think upon it. Go where you will...I will find you." Another pause. "And it would be wise for you to feed soon. I would suggest one of the loathsome creatures from your former home that are now stumbling around in the bushes in search of me."
With that François leapt into the air and quickly disappeared from view beyond the nearby trees. Nathaniel heard a distinct fluttering of wings, but ignored the implication of that sound. He could not reconcile everything in his mind and leaned heavily against the trunk of a tree to gather his thoughts.
"Is this my fate? ...Or do I even now rest in my bedchamber with a fevered fantasy of my own invention tormenting my sleep?"
Nathaniel shook his head forcefully. It was all too much to digest. Self-pity overwhelmed him. Tears formed in his eyes as reality descended upon him. He looked at his hands and knew what he was. There was a white-hot fury boiling deep inside him...drawing him back to his home.
"I am wretched born and am fated to a wretched existence or a wretched end! 'Tis all my own doing...my evil thoughts have borne a foul fruit that I must now harvest."
Filled with hopelessness, Nathaniel slid down the tree and sat hunched over in despair. François had read him well...he felt panic at the thought of dying. Nathaniel cursed his cowardice under his breath. Sitting in a bundle of self-loathing staring at the ground, a realization came to him.
Where was François going?
Nathaniel rose quickly. "East!"