Over several decades, Isabel had been quietly observing the subtle, yet significant, changes that had gradually manifested in Godric.
He had accepted the position of sheriff of Area 9 in Dallas shortly after the end of World War II, and Isabel had soon joined as his first deputy in his small team.
The name of Godric was legendary, and tales were told, passed down by other nocturnal beings from old Europe, of how he had embodied Death there, since the years of the conquests of Julius Caesar, of how he had ravaged villages and towns, and haunted human tribes from the British Isles to the frozen north of Scandinavia. There were also tales of his companion and progeny, the Viking, with whom he had spread terror from Constantinople to Samarkand in the long years of the second millennium. Curiously, the only rumors about them in the last century were not of slaughter or destruction: it was said that they had tirelessly hunted a pack of werewolves led by another old and powerful vampire.
Surely no human could have suspected that this seemingly adolescent boy, with his discreet appearance and short stature, contained an immense potential for destruction, inevitably increased by the magic of blood over more than twenty centuries. Vampires, of course, could sense it, and they revered and feared him as they only feared the Ancients.
Isabel knew the stories, or perhaps legends, that circulated about Godric. But he rarely spoke about himself or his past. It could be inferred that he had wandered far and wide across Eurasia from his extensive knowledge of languages of peoples and empires that no longer existed, as remarkable as his mastery of living Indo-European languages. He was able to speak in his native tongue with the oldest vampires from half the world, which he often did as a courtesy to those who emigrated to his territory, as well as reading texts that were only preserved in museums, on stone stelae, on papyrus and parchment, which, of course, he had no interest in demonstrating. However, for Isabel, as the years of belonging to Godric's household passed, the respect she initially felt for him was overlaid by other emotions. Primarily, a fierce loyalty, but also an affection similar to what she had felt long ago for Diego, her older brother, when she was still a young human living in Pamplona. Since she had known Godric, he had never been cruel, although he had had to exercise his authority and punish with true death a number of uncontrolled or insane vampires. He was especially uncompromising in terms of respect for human life in his territory. A vampire had the freedom to feed, but always avoiding weakening their prey so much that they died. And he considered it a law that a creator was responsible for the actions of their progeny, especially in the early stages of their supernatural existence, when control over the bloodlust was scarce. Isabel also admired that he had never been unfair in his actions, nor had he shown the extreme greed of other powerful vampires, who accumulated immense wealth, like dragons hoarding treasure in their lairs. However, dealing with him was sometimes difficult. Even with his closest collaborators, he tended to be distant, although his reserve was always wrapped in a courtesy of bygone eras.
As the last decades of the 20th century passed, and before the Great Revelation, Isabel found Godric's behavior increasingly incomprehensible and mysterious. He scrupulously fulfilled his obligations in the early hours of the night, only to disappear until dawn, without anyone knowing where he went. Some assumed he went hunting, seeking new human prey, but Isabel knew that wasn't the case. He never returned to the nest with the characteristic smell of sex and blood of someone who had enjoyed a good meal. In fact, some subtle signs seemed to indicate that he was eating very little. It was true that the Ancients required little blood to sustain themselves, but most of them still enjoyed feasts and orgies and did not miss the opportunity to imbibe that elixir. On the other hand, Godric had the habit of dedicating part of his resting hours, when the sun shone in the outside world, to reading countless books of all kinds, whether novels, philosophy, science, anthropology, religion or any other... in this way, the mortal sleep that vampires needed to recover their energy and avoid the bothersome bleedings was also scarce. And he seemed increasingly wrapped in an overwhelming silence that almost no one dared to break.
That night, Isabel decided it was her duty to dare. The previous days had been very complicated in area 9: a small-scale war had broken out between two rival vampire families and the violence of the confrontations had resulted in the true death of a dozen people on both sides, as well as several humans who lived with them. Godric had had to intervene to stop the killing and later to punish those responsible and make a peace agreement with the survivors of the two families. He seemed exhausted, sitting on a sofa in the great hall of the house, his gaze lost and desolate. Nor had he slept much during the hours of light that day: with the collaboration of some diurnal beings who worked for him, he had had to solve the problem of the human corpses, which had to appear in different places in the territory and manage to make them look like they had died accidentally, so that there would be no social alarm.
"Godric, is everything alright?" Isabel finally said, in a neutral tone, as she sat down beside him.
He raised his eyebrows, surprised by the question.
"I suppose so. The damage control has been done quite effectively."
"I'm referring to you, sheriff...Excuse me if I dare to meddle in private matters, but I'm worried about your condition. I feel like you're becoming more and more distant from everything that's important to our people."
"Are you unhappy with the way I manage area 9? Do you wish to go to the king and request that I be relieved of my authority? If so, I would not put any obstacles in your way..." he replied in his usual soft and measured tone.
"That's not it, Godric!" she exclaimed, horrified. "If I feel discontent it's because I think you're suffering and I don't understand why."
The old vampire with a youth´s face looked long at his subordinate. It was an inquisitive but patient look, which avoided manifesting the veiled power behind his gray eyes, and which finally diverted to one side.
"I appreciate your concern, Isabel. Your company in these years has been a precious gift, which has made the absence of my progeny bearable. But you're right about this: the life we lead is painful for me. I can no longer think like a vampire, nor feel the sweet vertigo of blood or the pleasure of human bodies. And the weight of having been Death for so many innocents overwhelms me."
"Why do you feel guilty? It is our nature: voracity and excess...We are predators and we do behave as such, especially at the beginning of our vampiric existence, when our creator still has to teach us prudence and restraint."
Godric nodded slowly:
"It's true, Isabel. But I didn't have a creator to teach me to control myself, but a torturer who was excited to see me kill and make me suffer afterwards, in every possible way. From him I learned nothing more than to hate and to enjoy destruction...until, after an endless time, I managed to give him the true death and free myself. And despite that, I continued for many centuries being a monster that killed without restraint. And what now distresses me even more is that I also did not want to change my customs when I created Erik, my firstborn. I took care of him, protected him and taught him everything he needed for survival, but I also wanted to take root in him the conviction that it was our inalienable right to use and destroy humans at our whim."
After a few minutes of silence, during which Godric's gray eyes clouded over, lost in some moment of the past, his expression changed and his lips curved into a smile, which Isabel found unbearably sweet.
"And yet, despite the many centuries that he was at my side, Erik has become one of the best among us. The bond of loyalty and affection between us has been the most precious thing of my long existence."
"Why isn't he with you, then?"
"I made him leave. Erik never wanted me to free him from the bond that unites the creator with his child. But it was necessary, he had to grow without me."
Both remained silent for a while. Finally, Godric got up with a resigned expression.
"We have work to do, Isabel. Please, check with your contacts in the police to see if they have already found the bodies and if they have managed to prevent the media from linking the deaths. I will speak with the king and the central authority to report everything. I may have to travel to report in person, I will let you know if so. And, talk to Stan so he can come and receive instructions."
Isabel went off to fulfill her duties. In her thoughts, however, the conversation she had just had persisted. Some things were beginning to be understandable, although not acceptable. A vampire haunted by guilt? Why? What had made Godric special, when nothing like that had ever been heard of any of the Ancients, some even older? She herself, although she had been walking the lands of Europe and America for five hundred years, had never felt the need to repent for anything. And that was despite having been raised as a Catholic. But religion and the idea of God had lost all importance from the moment immortality was granted to her. In any case, what Isabel had heard from Godric had not served to reassure her. It was essential that she continue investigating the roots of the evil that her boss was suffering, if she wanted to help him.
Author´s note: the story is four chapters long, and it´s already completed. Please, forgive possible mistakes, as english is not my first language.
Of course, I don´t own True blood.