More descendants were discovered over the years that rolled into more than a century. More and more children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren were brought into the world.
Rumors spread of our son’s amassing army. Talks of impending war rippled throughout Roter Himmel.
All we could do was prepare.
We built our kingdom. We amassed wealth. We bought armies in preparation.
And then, after 153 years together, I once more grew ill.
Once again, there was not enough blood in the world to sate my thirst.
And in another moment of agony and utter grief, Cyrus held me, as again, I died.
For 121 years I stayed dead, lost to the world.
And then for 19 years, I lived a tumultuous life as Helda, caught in the middle of a battle against the Blood Father trying to take over the world. My great-great grandfather, Dorian, influenced our family for the good, protecting the innocent lives the Blood Father wished to dominate. Protecting the secret of our kind.
And when the time came, I died my first death.
Four days later, I awoke as a vampire.
And six weeks after that, I remembered it all.
My previous life as Jafari.
My first life as Sevan.
Again, I returned to Roter Himmel.
Once more I had a bittersweet reunion with my Cyrus.
He waited for me. Between Sevan and Jafari he had never moved on, never sought out another. And for the 121 years I had been dead, he had held onto hope that I would awaken once more.
After all this time, Cyrus still held to his vows.
The world had changed much in the past century. Alliances had formed. All descendants had been accounted for.
The son Cyrus and I had created, the Blood Father, had created seven sons of his own, and twelve daughters.
Two of those sons and three daughters had allied with Cyrus, knew that we must keep our kind a secret if we did not wish to be eliminated by the rest of the world.
And then finally, word of our son’s return was sent to Roter Himmel by messenger.
Our son was coming home.
And he was going to finally put an end to our stopping him from taking over the world.
* * *
The war was not fought and won in a few mere weeks.
The mountains that surrounded Roter Himmel became the battlegrounds for a bloodbath that went on for seven years.
Countless lives were lost. Our home was very nearly destroyed. Famine was the threat that nearly caused us to lose. And as the humans died, there was little more for us, the vampires, to survive off of.
But then, on a crystal clear night at the beginning of spring, I paused in battle, turning across the field, as Cyrus and our son finally came face to face in battle.
With swords and fangs, they fought. It was like watching two lions, and the only outcome was death.
It was agony. I had to watch the two people I loved most in this world fight to the death. My husband that I had sacrificed everything for, and the son I had loved and carried and raised.
And everything in me froze, everyone on the battlefield seemed to turn to watch, as Cyrus knocked him to his knees.
I saw that look in Cyrus’ eyes. The utter despair. The anger. The horror. The grief and regret.
It all flashed through his eyes, just as he brought the sword down, and cut off our son’s head.
His body collapsed to the ground. His head rolled a little way down the hill. His blood stained the rocks and grass.
Tears rolled down my face.
Tears slid down Cyrus’.
It was over.
* * *
Our grandsons and daughters who had allied themselves with our son were taken into custody and thrown into the dungeon. One grandson and three granddaughters had been killed at some point during the war.
And finally, after seven bloody years, and centuries before, it was over.
Except it wasn’t.
Battles and insurrection continued for centuries. Times of peace and then times of rebellion.
But in the end, order was established.
With so many of us now, leadership was impossible to maintain from Roter Himmel. In a night of sleeplessness, Cyrus and I came up with the idea of the Houses. We trusted the descendants of Dorian and Malachi. They would help. We could train them, teach them how to be leaders, and then send them out into the world.
And so the age of order began.
* * *
I feel it. The rise back to consciousness. I feel closer to the light, closer to the present.
As if being sucked through a tunnel, I rocket through all of my lives.
First Sevan, and then Jafari. Helda, and then Shaku. Antoinette and Edith. And then I was born as La’ei.
And then Itsuko.
I searched for my life as her.
A village. A small village by the ocean. A simple life, but one as an outcast, shame on my mother for not knowing my father.
And then…and then darkness.
Screams and blood. Bad…bad everything.
Where was the rest?
Why couldn’t I remember what happened after that Resurrection?
I scramble for it, groping through the dark.
Then the light and the warm call for me. I rise to the surface.
And I open my eyes.
Chapter 32
Some kind of insect chirps loudly in the dark. I sit in a wooden swing on the veranda at Alivia’s House, Eshan curled in a ball next to me, his head in my lap. A soft breeze doesn’t do much to cool the air down.
I’d woken up, totally alone in the room, except for Eshan, asleep in a chair in the corner. But as soon as I called his name, he’d sat up, and started yelling for Alivia and Nial.
I’d been in some kind of trance-like coma for two days. My eyes would open and close, but they never moved, only stared at nothing. I could move, but I seemed frozen in the bed.
They’d called for me, tried to wake me up, but I had just looked empty and lost.
Now I was fine.
Dr. Jarvis ran tests on me, checked me over from head to foot. He couldn’t find anything wrong.
“I’m okay,” I said, standing and pushing past everyone making a fuss. “I’m just starving right now.”
They’d watched me as I ate like I’d never eat another meal. It was getting seriously annoying.
“I swear, I’m okay,” I insisted around a mouthful of something so Southern I didn’t have a name for it. “When you’ve lived a life as nine different people I think it’s justifiable to have a couple of wacky days to get your head back together and remember.”
Alivia sat down beside me. “Everything?” she asked.
I nodded. “All of it. The clearest is life as Sevan, but everything else is there. Except…except my last life before being Logan. There’s something weird going on there.”
I’d dismissed her then, saying I didn’t need to talk about it, anymore.
So here, I’ve found myself back on the veranda with my little brother.
“How can you not be insane?” Eshan asks quietly. “You say you’ve been nine people, that you remember them all. Does that make you schizophrenic?”
I chuckle and brush a hand over his shoulder. “I felt like it before,” I say. “My head just felt like a total mess with all these memories and voices thrown into this chaotic vortex. But, whatever happened over the last few days . . . ” I paused, looking up. Lights dot the horizon. “It sorted my brain out. I’m still Logan. But a part of me is La’ei, and Antoinette, and Jafari. The biggest part is Sevan. But I’m still Logan.”
Eshan sighs and shakes his head. “This whole thing is pretty nuts,” he says. “That there’s all this history and these politics and whatever, they all exist, and have been going on for thousands of years, and no one knows about it.”
“I wish you’d stayed in the dark about it,” I say.
Eshan shrugs. “You’ve kind of always been a bitter loner, Logan,” he teases. “I’m guessing you need someone to talk about it with.”
I smile. “Thanks, E.”
He rolls over onto his back, his head on my thigh, and looks right up at me. “So what’s the plan now? Are you really going to Austria like you told us all you were? Are you and Cyrus…going to be…husband and wife, or whatever?”
My eyes shifted to the horizon again.