To Eric's relief, Zoë enjoyed her new life. While losing the Sun was depressing for the first few months, she made up for it by reading anything she could get her hands on, as over two centuries Eric had accumulated quite a library. He also was surprised to see she had a good head for business. She'd check the records carefully, coming up with new ways to make Eric's operations, like the big olive farm they called home, more efficient. When Eric asked her where she got all these skills, she would grin and say, "I'm the only child of a brilliant father."
The one thing Zoë did not like at all at first was the idea of drinking from a human. It took a long time (about two years) before she could stand to see where Eric got the blood from, and even then he had to be the one that drained out the blood. She wouldn't subdue and drain a human herself for several decades.

Like Eric had thought, when the Imperial Court realized Zoë was missing, all hell broke loose in Constantinople. Emperor Manuel Komnenos was personally furious, the guards scoured the nearby countryside (but didn't penetrate deep enough into Greece to find the olive farm), and a monetary reward was put out for information on Zoë's whereabouts. But human resources were no match for vampiric powers, and once Zoë quickly learned glamouring, no human recalled seeing her. Fortunately, Emperor Manuel got sidetracked a year later by invading southern Italy, and the missing noblewoman faded into the past.
Heroditus kept the two informed of Constantinople intrigue, and once Manuel died in 1180, the two returned to court from time to time, passing off as a new envoy and his wife. And so, Eric and Zoë settled into the passing of the years.

1204

The letter arrived by express courier. Heroditus had written quickly, the Greek text smeared. "Come now." Eric showed Zoë the short letter, and she nodded.
"I'll stay here, watch over everything. It's probably something with the Crusaders." The Fourth Crusade was underway, the armies of Europe massing to retake the Holy Land. But there were tensions between Emperor Isaac II and the armies, as Constantinople would not send its own armies. Little did anyone know of the disastrous storm about to break.

On the night of April 12, Eric reached the old city. The city gates were shut tight, and Eric had to glamour the keeper to let him past the walls. He had noticed literally thousands of armed knights in the streets, tension in the air. He raced to Heroditus's house, and found the old vampire staring at a mosaic.
"Can you feel the fear in the air, Northie?"
Eric nodded. "What is happening? Why are they all here?"
"The Emperor won't pay them, and Venice is jealous of the trade. The others know the Empire is weak. They are vultures, coming in for the kill. Tomorrow, I am leaving Constantinople for Baghdad."
"If you are so worried, perhaps you should go tonight." Eric gulped. "I can tell something bad is about to happen."
Heroditus shook his head. "I have to save these." He pointed to a box of scrolls. Eric gestured to the door.
"I have a wagon. We can load them up and leave. It's been terribly dry lately." At this point in time, cities were made of wood, and a siege always meant fire.
"Alright." The ancient vampire picked the box up. "Let's leave."

But before they could get far, a group of knights stopped them, asking for papers. Eric gestured towards the way they came. "They are back home." As he turned, he noticed an ominous orange glow in the distance: fire. The knight nodded. "Hurry, sir, and we will stay here."
As Eric disappeared into the shadows, he heard a yell behind him. He turned around, and saw Heroditus struggling with a knight. Behind the vampire, another knight drew his sword. "No!" The ancient vampire pleaded. The crusader lifted the sword, and Eric realized what was happening. He watched in horror as the sword came down, plunging into Heroditus's chest. His screams turned to gargles, and Eric staggered back. Before, this night was dangerous. It now was deadly.

Eric ran through the streets and alleys, screams all around him. Horses thundered past, and knights in chain mail moved past, clearing the way of anyone unlucky enough to still be alive and in their way. The Fourth Crusade had gone horribly wrong, and the ground shook with anger as explosions rippled in the distance. The sky glowed orange from the raging inferno devastating the city. Eric ran into an open park, and saw a horrifyingly beautiful sight: Hagia Sophia, the pride of Justinian, reflecting the shimmering flames. The six hundred year old church itself was made of stone and would survive, but the surrounding districts were dry wood. Eric knew he needed to get to the safety of the countryside before he was incinerated in the flames. He moved as fast as he could through the fleeing crowds, panic on everyone's faces. The previous July, another siege had damaged the city, but this threatened to destroy Constantinople once and for all.

After what seemed like an eternity, Eric reached the gates. Fortunately for him, the crusaders had torn down the barriers, and Eric slipped out of the chaos into the night. As he ran for his life, red tears streamed down his face, as he swore in Old Swedish. Why the hell did this have to happen? The crusaders had turned on the hand that had fed them, the Emperor had been killed, and the humans were running blindly in panic. If I could just reach the open countryside. But Eric had a powerful advantage: vampiric speed and strength, and soon he was alone on a barren road, only the sound of his horrified sobs and the distant explosions breaking the still. Heroditus had been killed for nothing, sixteen centuries gone so a group of humans could have some twisted fun. Eric was so bitterly angry, he cursed the whole human race as he stumbled.

A wagon pulled up alongside, and a familiar soft voice called his name. Zoë had returned, the blood bond leading her right to him. She stepped down, shrouded in a cloak, and watched in horror as the greatest city in the world burned. The wind was harsh and warm, feeding the flames. "My God, why?"
"Who knows. War is madness."
She could smell the smoke on Eric, and he could feel her horror as the city she called home was destroyed in front of them. The two seemed so small in that moment, the far-off flames painting their cold skin orange, red tears hitting the cold rocky earth.

They both knew the time had come to move on from Constantinople.

The Crusaders placed a puppet king on the Byzantine throne, which was regained by the old line sixty years later. But by then, the Byzantine Empire was dying. The Turks drove relentlessly from the East as the western frontier of the empire fell apart. In 1453 the Muslims would capture Constantinople, ending the Byzantine and creating the Ottoman Empire. The Greek name was unpronounceable to the Turks, so they eventually shortened the name to what the city is called today: Istanbul. Today, Istanbul is once more a thriving trade center, with over twelve million in the sprawling city, the chief link between Europe and South Asia. Hagia Sophia still stands, fourteen centuries of history in its walls.

Eric and Zoë remained together for five centuries, roaming through Europe and Asia. Zoë in particular loved China and the exotic lands to the East. In 1685, Eric would sail for Virginia, seeing a new opportunity. By then, he and Zoë were more close friends then lovers, and she decided to stay behind in Greece, guarding Eric's European interests. When the Revealing came, Europe was more welcoming than the United States, and Zoë Nekratous is today something of a local heroine in northern Greece, a (sort of) living symbol of the nation's history and pride.

Meanwhile, Eric steadily ascended the vampire hierarchy in the New World, and by the time he reached the thousand year mark, was the most powerful vampire in the state of Louisiana. However, as he gained power, the human traces left in him slowly withered, until by the year 2000 he seemed a cold and removed vampire. Or so it was thought.

I may write something new with Zoë; I like writing for her. Also, notice her name: Zoë means "life" and "Nekratous" comes from the same root as the Greek word for death: "life of death."