I had to test my blood before I healed myself. However, I did not know of any nearby villages, nor did I want to unnecessarily create vampires without knowing the potential consequences.

I sat down a little way off Amara and dug a hole. Earth and pebbles sunk into my nails. Rocks scraped against my skin. Worms and ants crawled up my hands as I invaded their home. I formed the hole into a bowl. The excess earth became the wall to the small ritual site I placed my hand above the bowl and let my blood flow. For five minutes it dripped till a small pond formed at the bottom of the bowl. Of course, the insects could no longer be seen, no doubt having delved into the ground. However, I couldn’t sense anything from them, no enhanced heartbeat, or strong emotional ties. Perhaps they had become little vampiric insects; too little to be detected. Perhaps only humans or humanoid creatures could become vampires. Was vampirism a physical or magical phenomenon? Was it related to what felt like pebbles in my lungs? I wasn’t a vet or anything of the sorts; however, I did know insects didn’t have lungs.

I’d have to test these hypotheses out later.

I stayed around the blood bowl for another hour; however, I didn’t sense anything. Nothing seemed to have changed. But then, why did I think I could sense vampires or those with my blood. I could never sense my father’s blood. Perhaps progenitors gained extra powers, but then, wouldn’t the words of the XXII patriarch speak of such, even if in passing. No, the only thing which changed since my childhood was the addition of mana. That’s true, Amara’s brown mana became purple. Perhaps mana is what I sensed and not blood. But then, that meant purple mana was different than brown mana. How did those two differ? Did mana use previously established physical laws or did it work under a new system? There were too many questions and no starting point.

#

With the sleeping Amara in my arms, I walked out of the cave. The sun peaked above the plains, rays of light spilled forth and inundated the green plains.

#

I walked for half an hour before I could get a full view of the mountains without the need to look up to the skies. Half an hour to get a full picture of the carnage, half an hour to see the castle as nothing but a pebble carefully balanced atop a pile of rubble, half an hour for Amara’s breathing to ease.

#

Vampires had the intrinsic need to sleep. But we slept for a long time. Of course, this meant we stayed awake for prolonged periods of time as well.

Two weeks passed since we set off from the ruined castle, yet I had neither felt the need to close my eyes or sit down. Nor had Amara showed the slightest sign of waking. Her eyelids didn’t even twitch when I ran with her in my arms. Although convenient it did worry me. Not for her. Her heartbeat with mechanical consistency and athletic strength. Her mana flowed with vigour and fullness.

No, I worried for myself. How could I care for Amara if I slept for years on end? How would I defend the vampiric flame, or myself for that matter, if I slept with such peace and caprice?

#

We eventually reached the Red Sea. I had stopped counting the suns after the third week. They meshed so well together. I came to see them as a single half-spherical line of light.

I wanted to fly, to escape the oppressive bounds of earth.

I wanted to meet others and escape the lonely coast of misery and solitude.

I fell to my knees and sank in sand. Quiet waves of salty water washed over my calcified and crusted skin. The sea breeze did not come to greet me. Humidity did, and feel it I did as my lungs grew heavy and the ever-present purple mist fell to the ground, pushed down by hot, water-saturated air.

Something cried. I looked up and down, east and west. That’s when I noticed that Amara had awoken. Her purple eyes shined brighter than the sun and mana came forth from her mouth. I cradled her in my arms, “It’s going to be okay. We’re almost there. Just a few more sleeps. That’s all,” I said to console her.

Her screams continued to resound. It pierced both my ears and that of the sun. Clouds rushed to comfort the bright spot in the sky and out of pity gave moisture back to my joints, letting me stand. I knew what she required, and so did I know what I desired. It was just a matter of me reading the letters painted red.

I knew for certain of one thing which changed after I became a patriarch. Blood was now more of a luxury than a need. However, if a luxury made one grow mad simply at its sight, was it a luxury? Perhaps, but others may also use the term addiction.

What was worse? The need to drink blood less you die, or the need to drink blood less the sun blends into the moon.

Amara’s wails stuttered to a stop. The corners of her mouth cracked, and blood fled down her cheeks. At least for her it was a necessity.

I stood up, Amara nestled in my arms, and walked alongside the Sea with haste.

#

Two to three hours passed. The sun had set, and the moon shined brightly amongst the stars. Unfortunately, during such a beautiful night little Amara bled from her mouth and countless newly formed fissures on her skin.

I set her down where sand turned to dirt and transformed into a bat. I flew off. There was no time to lose. I needed to find human blood.

My wings beat to the drum of a hummingbird’s heart. However, a few minutes later my vision doubled, and I tumbled into the sea. The water was warm, and the currents made light work of my small bat body. I tried to flap my wings. It didn’t work. I transformed back into a human and tried to swim up; however, when I reached for the brightest point, the next instant I’d face the depths of the abyss.

Up was down, light was dark.