A/N: I apologize this chapter took awhile in coming, but it is the most pivotal one to date, and I wanted to make certain it was crafted well enough to alleviate confusion. I hope you find it rewarding... it's time for some answers. :)

As always, thank you for all the kind words and reviews. I read through them several times while writing this chapter. They helped immensely in getting me through the writing of this one.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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We lay in silent stillness on the roof, our bodies and minds wrapped together, blanketed in the magickal serenity of the emerald glow. The bond remained effortlessly open, as if it had achieved a new state of being, taking on its own heartbeat and breadth. The confusion of whose emotions I was feeling was gone. In fact, my own sense of self felt more sure than ever. However, I also knew Eric's mind and heart as keenly as if they were my own. At either end of the bond there was distinctiveness, two individual souls with our own light and shade, thoughts and feelings. The uniqueness of each flowed outward, reaching the center of the bond, where they merged in light and energy and power, entwined as one. It was there I could feel him, know him, immerse myself in his entire being and he in mine.

He propped his head on one hand, gazing down at me, the fingers of his other hand running through my braids. My legs were draped over his thigh, and I tucked myself closer into him, loving how small I always felt in his arms. The center of the bond seemed to hum and glow with our contentment. He spoke low and gentle.

"There is a legend that there once existed three sexes; man, who was a child of the Sun; woman, who was a child of the Earth; and the union of the two, the androgynous, who was the child of the Moon, which was made up of both Sun and Earth. Their physical manifestation was primeval man, who had four arms, four legs, and two faces. They were powerful and vain creatures, whom the Gods feared. However, their outright destruction would mean loss of their tribute and worship. So Zeus, as he was called in this legend, developed a plan in which man would be humbled and lessened in strength, and divided them in two."

I listened, hypnotized by Eric's voice, recognizing the parallels he was drawing to our bond.

"Once divided, each half sought another, wrapping into an embrace, desiring to meld back into one. They neglected themselves to the point of starvation because they could not bear to be apart. Upon seeing their destruction, Zeus took pity upon them, and remade their forms that man might enter woman for the purposes of reproducing, ensuring the survival of their race. Thus was born love and the desire to return to our original nature; making one from two, forever seeking our other half to heal us and make us whole."

Sun, Earth, and Moon... Man, woman, and their union... Eric, me, and our bond.

His fingers softly traced across the contours of my face, and I brushed the hair from his brow, tucking one side behind his ear. "You wanted to turn me," I said softly.

"Yes," he replied gently.

He kissed my fingertips as I held them to his lips. I didn't need him to explain. I shared his fear of my mortality, and what my inevitable death would mean for him. He felt he would become nothing more than the monster, that whatever spark of humanity was left in him would be well and truly dead. He could no longer hide the knowledge he'd gained upon our arrival here, it passed to me through the bond as easily as if I'd experienced it myself.

While I had slept, he'd spoken with his Maker. He learned she'd chosen him because of a vision. She was a prophetess, after all, and spoke the words of Gods. She'd seen Eric in her visions long before he was even born. She never questioned the reasons, they were not hers to question. He would become her only vampire child, it was a proclamation to her from something beyond.

This was not sitting well with him at all. Being 'chosen' by the Gods meant to him that he had a great destiny to fulfill, like a hero in one of the Sagas he learned as a child. In his mind, this was in direct opposition to his nature as a vampire. His entire belief structure was being shaken, and he was raging against it. He didn't want this any more than he wanted to be King.

With the new state of our bond, he was also becoming convinced that I was somehow central to this prophecy. It was that belief that swayed him from turning me. He feared how it would change me... change us. I was his muse... his angel.

I felt a tear slip down my cheek, and he kissed it away. "Come Dear One, it is time. She is waiting for us."

He stood, retrieving his sword and sliding it back into its sheath, then held out his hand to me. I smiled, taking it, and rising to my feet. I smoothed my dress and hair, hoping I managed to right my appearance. His gaze cast appreciatively over me for a moment, and I grinned as the smirk returned to his face.

"Beautiful," he breathed.

He took my hand once more, and we descended the stairs together, entering the chamber below. The simple, stone room was awash in candlelight, with a central brazier set into the floor. Animal pelts and colorful pillows, like the ones in my bed chamber, were piled around it, creating little, nest-like seating areas. The ever present green glow highlighted ancient looking statues, set into niches on each wall.

Eric scooped me up and settled us into some pillows, resting my back against his chest, his arms wrapping lightly around my waist. I was reminded of sitting around a campfire when I was little, only instead of Jason teasing me and pulling my hair, I was cradled in the lap of a giant Viking. He nuzzled against my neck, rumbling softly in his chest.

A few moments later she entered, led by two of her hand maidens at each arm. One of them carried a small, low stool, which she set down opposite us across the brazier. The Sibyl, Phemonoe, seemed even more ancient than I remembered. Her white hair was untamed, thin, hanging loosely around her gaunt face. She was slightly hunched, carrying an ornately carved walking stick, clad in layers of colorful robes. Eric and I both moved to our knees as her maids settled her on the stool. Despite her being blind, I knew through Eric, and my own experiences with her, that she possessed her own unique sense of sight.

"Mother," Eric greeted reverently and with a hint of joy. I was a bit surprised at how he addressed her.

She snorted. Literally. "Stop that, EirĂ­kr, this is not court. Sit, sit."

I liked her already.

Eric pulled me back into his lap, kissing the top of my head. The hand maidens brought out a small tray of fruit and a cup of honey mead for me, and goblets for Eric and his... well... Mother. If that's what he called her, then so would I. I thanked the pretty woman, popping a grape into my mouth. Eric chuckled his amusement.

"You seem in better spirits since our last meeting," his Mother remarked, then tilted her head, studying us with her sightless eyes. She grunted in a seemingly approving manner. "Well, there is no going back for it now. You have chosen."

"She bewitched me, I do believe," he smirked. I elbowed him in the ribs, inciting a roar of laughter from my Viking. He placed a soft kiss on my temple, "I am not complaining, Dear One. I would live happily under your hex for all my nights."

"Wondrous..." the Pythoness breathed.

She began to chant something, and though I couldn't understand the words, her tone made me think it might be a prayer. Eric's arms tightened around my waist, the center of the bond reverberating with contentment. I found that, though I had many questions, I no longer felt the incessant need to voice them. I would wait patiently, knowing they would come.

"This one," she said, pointing toward Eric with her walking stick, but directing her words to me. "He haunted my visions for many nights. Over and over I watched myself feeding him, giving the gift of immortality. What made this so remarkable is that it should not have been possible for me to turn him, for I am not vampire as you know them to be."

That certainly caught my attention. I think I must've made some noise audible enough for their vampire hearing, because Eric stilled me, stroking his thumbs inside my palms. A moment later the Sibyl continued.

"My Mother was Lamia, the Libyan Queen, loved by Amun, or Zeus as the Greeks called Him. His love for her was so great that Mut, Amun's consort, became jealous and stole away Lamia's children. In her grief, my Mother became the immortal Pythoness, a great creature with the head of a woman and body of a snake, and took to feeding upon the blood of children. She was, in essence, the first vampire. In the fleeting moments when her grief would lessen and she could recall her need to nurture, she would feed her blood to the children she had fed upon, and they became vampires as you know them today."

I listened, both horrified and enraptured, to the tale. I had the fleeting thought of the Ouroboros Eric wore; the snake devouring its own tail, the Goddess symbol of an eternal cycle. I had never realized just how much mythologies weaved together, all hinting at truths of the world as I knew it. If things ever returned to normal, I knew I'd be neck deep in mythology books for quite some time.

"In an attempt to appease her, Amun gave to Lamia the gift of prophecy, which passed to me, along with her need for blood, as the result of their final coupling. However, Lamia's grief remained all consuming, and Amun feared that she could not recognize me from other children, and would inevitably feed upon me. He called upon a servant to deliver me from Libya to Siwa, and I became His Sibyl. When I neared my death, Amun bestowed upon me the breath of life, for that is what He encompasses. Thus, I feed upon blood and am immortal, but my creation was unlike that of any other vampire."

Listening to Phemonoe felt like receiving a sacred gift. I doubted whether most vampires even knew this story, since the ones I knew only said their origins were rooted in magick, but seemed to lack any further information. Eric would later confirm these were secret truths told to very few.

She took a sip from her goblet, perhaps allowing me time to process, before continuing. "The night after I received Amun's gift of immortality, my visions became plagued by images of a young warrior. He was dressed in cloth I did not recognize, sailing on a ship that was foreign to my knowledge. The young warrior was shackled to the mast, appearing as a trophy before the captain, a most barbaric man. He had been made a slave when his village was conquered; his father, the Chieftain, having fallen in battle. The young warrior fought bravely, but in the end, the captain claimed the son as his prize. He was made to watch as his wife was raped and his children slaughtered, before being shipped off to distant lands and a life of servitude."

I couldn't stop the tears from flowing down my cheeks, even though I knew Eric neither needed, nor wanted my pity. I gripped his hands tighter in mine as he lay his chin on my shoulder, nuzzling into my neck and inhaling my scent. Imagining Eric on his knees, being forced to serve some odious barbarian was almost too much for me to take. I had never, in the time I'd known him, seen him in any state less than complete control. The throngs knelt before him. Even when he was faced with a vampire of a higher political position, he maintained an air of confidence that was like a silent warning; I'll play your game, but don't even think to tread on what is mine.

I also began to understand why he never sought more power. His Father had once taken a mighty position, only to have it all ripped away. Eric, while he certainly reveled in control and power, wanted balance.

We fell silent for a time, and I watched the firelight dance in the brazier. Eric's fingertips ran slowly up and down the outside of my arms, lulling me into a renewed sense of calm. The Sibyl was chanting again, the power of her ancient prayer washing over us like a blessing. I felt myself slipping into a dreamy, hypnotic state, floating along the emerald ripples of energy. Phemonoe's voice hung in the air, and then... the images began to form in my mind.

There was a beautiful priestess, dressed in ornate ceremonial robes, and I knew somehow that it was Phemonoe, as she had been in her youth. She stood in a circle, ringed with a crowd of silent onlookers, facing a dark-haired, handsome man with a regal air about him. The Kingly man disrobed her, and she in turn shed his garb. There were many lines spoken to each other, words that might have made me blush, all in the nature of a sacred ritual. With all eyes on them, they made love over and over. It was reverent and beautiful, and there was no shame, but rather rejoicing in the spirituality and magick of their union.

One vision melted into the next, and I witnessed Phemonoe giving birth. Her coupling had produced a child. The baby was swaddled in her arms, receiving blessings and prayers from the throngs that had gathered. They revered the child as divine, a gift from the Gods.

The images swirled and flashed, the child having grown into a handsome man, who had taken a mate. I watched as Phemonoe's lineage progressed down through the ages, witnessing child after child being born, to then grow and have their own. It seemed that every other generation or so, the mate taken was another kind of supernatural creature. Some I recognized, some I did not. Many were beautiful, and a few were rather frightening.

Generation upon generation passed in the blink of an eye, mixing blood and species to continue the line that began with Phemonoe and her child of the divine. Sights and surroundings became more familiar to me as ancient times led to images from my childhood history books, progressing near to modern day, until finally...

A beautiful man approached... his gaze held captivated by a young woman hanging laundry on a line in her backyard... my backyard. The young woman... was Gran.

Words I couldn't recall ever having heard spoken echoed in my mind.

"Even I didn't foresee this, though perhaps I should have. The last remaining trace of my mortal life... bonded to my child... the Gods clearly have a plan."

TBC