Volga Bulgaria, Fields of Bolgar AD 847

Snow-covered fields of purple berries sprawled behind my house made of timber and nails. This wooden box, which had kept me safe from reality for fourteen years, would no longer be my home. Although I had a hard time remembering the first six, the memories made here weighed just as much as the memories of my previous life. Though this weight was certainly different than that of a loving family and the occasional struggles of work.

A bat flew far above the snowy fields. It let the cold winds carry it down to the ground whereupon it transformed into a man.

“I found a caravan of refugees a few kilometres away. They will be your first trial,” said the man, naked yet undisturbed by the bitter bite of the Russian … or what would later be called the Russian winter.

“Yes,” I answered. Although there weren’t movies or games here, war, famine, and each blade of grass gave birth to a refugee. All of which vampires took a liking to. Although it had been hard to adapt to this new life, I had taken things in stride and multiple hunger strikes.

One thing that could turn a saint into a devil was hunger. Hunger I had and a saint I was not.

“Be more confident,” said my father for the thousandth time. “Vampires, although quiet, are supreme beings with a grand mission. Meekness has no place in our actions.”

“Yes, father,” I muttered. “Let’s kill those rats,” I said, straining my vocal cords, from which a wisp of condensed air formed.

My father nodded and transformed into a bat before furiously beating his purplish-black wings to climb against the cold, eastward winds. I did the same. When we reached a high enough altitude to be spared from the harshest of winds, I relapsed into nostalgia.

I remembered the oily taste of hamburgers and fries on a cool summer’s night. Of buttery popcorn in an empty movie theatre. Of the soothing warmth of drunkenness. Yet here, all I could enjoy was the quiet resignation to time. A feeling all vampires, young and old, suffered from. And so came forth their creed:

“Life is long, yet it is our pride and responsibility to live it.”

These words, passed down for generations, had guided the lives of nearly all vampires. Although their powers were limited to having the ability to transform into a bat, night vision, a minor strength boost, and immunity to diseases and viruses, their median lifespan was inhuman, often said to be around eight hundred years. However, a blade to the heart, a mace to the head, or a cut to the inner thigh would end any vampire’s life.

“Aidar,” said my father as we landed a kilometre away from our prey. “You will hunt on your own today.”

I knew this day would come, and not only would any blood be entirely on my hands, it would also be the death of me. However, I had to accept it. After all this was just the first of eight trials. “Yes, I’ll be back soon.”

My father didn’t respond. In truth, he had little hope in me as a vampire. Well, it was more complicated than that. To be a good vampire meant following the creed to the letter. In that regard, he believed in me. However, he saw me getting slain by steel sooner or later. Perhaps that was why he wished for me to finish the trials as quickly as possible, so I would perhaps be accepted as a priest of the vampiric order.

Regardless, I transformed into a bat. This power made me want to examine vampires as biological subjects. As for what I had heard, magic didn’t exist, nor did any other supernatural beings. To vampires, transformation was no different than caterpillars turning into butterflies, simply in a quicker and reversible manner.

The wind threatened to rip my paper-thin, baby bat wings as I struggled against nature and fought untethered winds. A few hundred flaps later, I spotted a line which parted the inch-tall snow and uncovered blades of grass. I landed and retook my human form to rest.

As vampires couldn’t die due to internal factors such as enzymatic breakdown, we had no need to feel the cold or heat. However, some vestigial aspects of our nervous systems made it so we felt a slight tingle in the cold, and sweat when it was warm. Well, I hadn't interacted with fire yet, so I suppose we could still get burned. In that aspect, we might need this sensation. If that was the case, a slight tingle might not be enough to warn us of fire.

Anyhow, I retook my bat form and flew low to the ground. Finally, twenty minutes later, I saw a light-brown construct covered by a film of snow. My target had appeared. They were camping out near a frozen pond. One man drove a branch into the ice, another cleared the snow from their cart, and the last fed their horse old wheat and wood chips.

All in all, these people didn’t have much to live for. No doubt the steppes would claim them soon. I would just take their blood. Yes, it was just a land tax, or maybe a tax for the land? Maybe a blood tax? Who knows? Anyhow, was I not a part of the land? Was I not the same as the bears, wolves, and rabbits which roamed the land for food and water? Vampires did not aggregate; we did not search for wealth or game, influence or glory. No, vampires searched for blood and blood alone. We were beasts.

Of course, there might have been one or two vampires who took advantage of their traits to influence the human world. However, the most fanciful of them must have been killed.

#

I wondered whether I should play the lost child card, but on second thought, they wouldn’t believe a kid could get lost in the middle of the steppes without clothes, food, or a weapon and live for more than a few minutes.

I looked up and watched a few birds pass by. My body shrank and I became a bat once more. I reached the area above the caravan in a few minutes. The man who was feeding the horse now stoked a small flame. He wore a large fur and leather hat which covered his ears and kept him warm; however, it also impeded his vision. Thanks to this, my presence went unnoticed as I landed, still in my bat form next to the sword which hung on his waist.

I transformed into a boy. The man took a step back; however, I had already taken his sword. With my tiny body, appearing to be around eight years old, I swung his sword down with the strength of a teenage boy.

The man, unprotected and unprepared, soon had his head cut in half. Blood gushed out and soaked my lips red. With a lick, the metallic taste of blood warmed me up and made the snow turn into burgundy mud. I stood there for a pretty second, unsure of myself. As a human, as a vampire, as a part of the ecosystem, and as a part of the future and the past. I was all. I was none. My heart seized up and I broke into a cold sweat.

“Someone killed Samir,” yelled another man.

I snapped out of my daze and tried to locate their voice; however, my eyes were filled with blood. I furiously blinked and rubbed them, yet I still couldn’t see much.

Leather squeaked on snow and its pace picked up. Still unable to see, I transformed into a bat and flew up, beating my wings as quickly as possible. After a few seconds, I assumed that my target was directly under me, so I let myself be pushed down by the wind. There he was, flailing a large wooden stick. Just as I was about to reach him, I transformed back into a human and let my teeth sink into his neck. My momentum brought him down to earth, where he froze up, and I sucked him dry.

The last man didn’t move, frozen near the pond’s banks. His wife and child stood next to him. They wore thick cotton cloaks; however, this did not alleviate their shivers, nor their teeth clatters. I honestly wished that I could let them go; however, my father would finish them off and chastise me for a month.

Blood tasted good.

These three wouldn’t go anywhere, so I sat down next to the man whose head I had nearly split in two and enjoyed my meal. When my teeth came out of his throat and the thread of enzymatic mucous broke between his skin and my teeth, I turned to face the family. They were nowhere to be seen.

“Did they run away?” I muttered. This would mean I had failed my trial and would remain in the steppes for yet another year. Perhaps this was what I wanted. However, I soon noticed pools of blood which led into the pond. My father wouldn’t have killed them since this was a trial, so I transformed into a bat and flew above the body of water.

It didn’t take me long to piece the events together. A bloody spear and three submerged bodies.

Suicide.

I landed next to the campfire and let my body sink into the snow’s embrace. It would be a nice place to sleep after such a filling meal. I would no doubt be full for another month.

As I, the Vampiric Progenitor of the XXIII magical era fell asleep, the world, the world kept on spinning.