I sat in the back of the ship for a day with Amara in my arms. “Bring me a crab.” I ordered.

“Yes sir,” answered a crew mate with enthusiasm uncharacteristic for a living skeleton. They listened to every one of my orders. I did not know why, however, the only thing I could think of was those illusions.

The man came back and placed a small crab in my palms. He ran off to do whatever sailors did in a sea of fake crustaceans.

Back to my crab. I closed my eyes and tried to sense any mana. However, nothing came of it. But then again, back then I couldn’t sense the brown mana in Amara or the sword. I proceeded to stare into the crab’s eyes, nose, and mouth. If I remembered correctly crabs had both lungs and gills. However, nothing came forth as it exhaled. I laid it on it’s back and tried to rip it open, however, as soon as I applied a bit of force it disappeared. I concentrated on the area it occupied and tried to see any residual mana; however, nothing appeared.

Well, the thing which created this illusion probably controlled the ship and its crewmates. I would soon meet another like me. A progenitor of its species.

#

A day later the ship stuttered to a stop. Its hull, torn to shreds by the crab shells. I looked over to the shore. It was about half a kilometre away. However, the men didn’t hesitate in lowering the ramp. They descended the wooden plank, the red crabs stacked atop themselves and made a wide bridge of red shells. When they had traversed it for a full hundred metres, I gave it a shot. Making sure to walk with care as to not make the crabs vanish under my feet.

With care I managed to traverse the bridge and reach land. There, a large city was enshrined in the midst of a lush oasis. People tended coffee plantations, patrolled the walls, and socialized. However, one could only ignore the sea of red crabs for so long. They were everywhere. Up atop trees, on farmers' heads, and in between the stones which made up the city wall. Yet the mass of thinning men did not bat an eye at their presence.

I followed the sailors inside the confines of the city whereupon they led me to a small villa or palace. It was built as a square. With all sides open and held up by great yellow arches, one could peer inside and admire the mosaic decorations. Palace guards armoured in black studded leather, and red silk stood guard under the corridor’s shade.

However, these greatly decorated men were no more than statues. The sailors who had no right to step into what one could mistake for sacred grounds were let through without a word. Their salt-crusted shoes streaked across the grey and black marble floor. Leaving behind great white ponds of dried sand. We eventually entered a salon which we passed through to reach the courtyard gardens. There, in the centre, a glass torch stood; protected by four majestic phoenix statues whose wings spread two metres wide, with open beaks which clutched at the sun, and hundreds of individually carved feathers painted red.

“You came,” said someone behind me. I turned; a wisp of nearly transparent smoke neared me.

I looked back to the men who guided me for confirmation on what I saw; however, they had already disappeared. And so, without support, I could do no more than speak. “Were you born of the eternal flame?” I asked.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! You too, right? I felt so lonely here, all alone amongst the ghost of the dead.”

“What’s your name?” I asked. There was no need for me to ask what they considered alive or dead.

“Ugh… I’ve never thought of one. You see, I’ve tried so long to speak to the beings here, but they ignore me. I know all of their names, all of their habits, interests, and skills. Yet they turn a blind eye.” The wisp of smoke started to condense and take the shape of a human. “But then, if no one wishes to speak to me, maybe it’s my fault.” His body dispersed back into mist.

I had no doubt he could communicate with humans. I just needed to tell him to condense into a human form. Perhaps I too would have been stuck in such a state had I not previously known humanity. Were all beings born from the eternal flame born as mist? Or were there different types of progenitors?

“Do you want me to name you? Or do you have an idea?” I made him stray from his foul thoughts.

“Hmmm … how about Sara, she is the person I have come the closest to speaking with. I think she’s been shunned into not speaking to me. Every time I approach her, she looks towards me and points me out. However, the bigger humans think she is pointing to the wall or something else and then rebuke her. No, now I understand. They are shunning me.” The smoke became hazy. “Perha—”

“Is that why you are starving them to death?” I interrupted. “You know if you keep this up, you won’t even have the chance to speak to Sara.”

“Starving them? I’m mad but I wouldn’t go so far as to kill them.” The fog dispersed back into near invisibility. A precarious one they were.

“Do you know what humans need to eat?” I asked. He wasn’t a bad existence, perhaps I should have tried to kill him now, however, just as the patriarch had said. It probably wasn’t for the best to start this era head hunting. Maybe this era could last a few thousand millennia instead of a few years. Perhaps this era could end when all of us progenitors get bored with life. Or, if my dreams can come true we can all fly to the edge of the universe. Uncover the truth to it all and admire life for all of eternity.

“They drink water,” said Sara.

I wanted to facepalm but resisted the urge. “No,” I said exasperatedly. “Humans need to eat food. Just water won’t keep them alive for long.”

“But don’t you only drink blood to survive? Isn’t the human equivalent water?”

“How do you know that vampires drink blood?” Had they observed us? Since when?

“I mean I wasn’t sure until I saw that little girl in your arms drink the blood of the men I sent. And I’ve only seen humans drink water since coming into existence.”

“That’s because they think they’re eating the crabs. They can’t tell that they’re illusions. Only those born after our existence possess mana, which is necessary to break the illusions. And those babies are still too young to do, even to say anything.”

The progenitor of illusions did not speak. “Illusions? How can you call them illusions!” His form started to condense and take the shape of a human. The white mist grew hotter, the heat pricked my skin. “They are my children. Take back—”

“I’m sorry,” I said in haste. “I was inconsiderate in not asking you how to refer to them. To us vampires, the word illusion can also be used to refer to those we cannot make our own. For they are forever out of reach but never leave our hearts.” The white mist cooled and spread back into the sky. Sara seemed like a deeply lonely person. For one’s family to be illusions, for one to try and reach out to humans with good intentions, for one who saved my child, even if accidentally. Yet they could not find a simple friend in this world. That was more tragic than any nostalgia attacks I may face. “If you want, I can stay here until Amara wakes up and teach you how to take care of humans, and, although I can’t guarantee this, I may know a way for you to interact with humans.”

The mist froze. “Really…?” Sara asked.

“I promise to try my best.”

The mist wrapped around my body. “Then I thank you most warmly.”

“I’d just like to ask you one thing.”

“Please, ask away,” said Sara with a warm voice.

“I’d like to test some blood magic; however, for that I may kill a few humans. I won’t take many I promise.”

“No, it’s fine, as long as I have one human to keep me company, then I don’t care. Oh, and don’t touch Sara.”

“Of course. I would never.”

“Then we have no qualms. Please live in the palace. There are many nice rooms.”

I nodded and thanked them.

The mist disappeared.