I’m adjusting to my vampirism. I can never quite decide if that’s a good thing or not. I suppose it's better that I know how to survive, but I can’t help but consider that I’m not truly living anymore. I’m a monster just the same as those zombies and skeletons wandering about… But even so, I am adjusting.
It was very difficult at first. The first few days were a blur of painful hunger. Looking at the other clan leaders. Looking at Willow. It was hard not to just see food. Their pulses seemed to leap from their skin and dance before my eyes, twisting and throbbing in tantalizing pulses.
I still get shivers thinking about it.
I was put in a jar of all things. It was something I was originally building for myself. A giant, enchanted jar. (Strange, perhaps, but my hope was to fill it with earth and plant life and slowly warp them into something fae. To make something that feels like home without changing too much of Austral. It may be bad in this world, but fae beasts are worse than anything out here.)
The glass is specially treated, keeping out the harmful parts of the sun’s rays to my new condition. It had the additional advantage of keeping the others out of reach, as the materials used to create my new sanctuary are warded against destruction. They were safe and I was trapped. It was the best for us all.
Willow rarely left my sight those first few days. We found out fairly early that her blood is poison to me. It burns my tongue and offers no relief from the hunger. It made her relatively safe in my company. Even now she is still my greatest provider of sustenance as she was then. In more than one way, these days.
After I gained some control over myself and could force my eyes to no longer drag forward the pulses of the living, I was allowed out. There were a few close calls when controlling myself was too much to ask, but that isn’t an issue anymore.
For the most part.
As long as I keep my hunger sated, there are no accidents. No attacks. My peculiar mix of fae and vampire seems to give me more options for that. I quite often use that when I can. However, I’ve found a couple donors among our number.
The first is Nyx. A fairly even tempered sort, they taste a bit like salted sweets. Like caramel. Second is Vyrian. Now they are a bit -different- from the others. In a way not unlike myself. There is something creamy to their blood. It’s smoother, richer. I know it tastes pleasant, but I can’t really place the flavor. I suppose even Vyrian’s blood is more unique than anyone else... Lastly, there is the fox. He’s a more reluctant donor. His blood is earthy, like a root or something of the like. I can’t say I really like it, but it’s there if I can find nothing else.
I’m finding that many of the remaining leaders and followers are surprisingly supportive. There are a few that have taken precautions against me, but on large, I’m left to my peace. I spend most of my hours entrenched in magic now. We either need to heal this world or survive its destruction. I doubt technology is going to do that for us. When I’m not working to this goal…
I’m with Willow.
I can admit here, at least, that she is a driving force behind my efforts. I am still certain there is no way I can survive when magic truly dies… But I can make sure she lives on.
