I was sitting in bed, as usual, sketching, when suddenly the window burst open. I flinched and looked up in surprise. The window?! The wind rustled in, cold wind…and…a sound…a sound that I hadn`t made…how long had it been since I`d heard one of those...? But that window had been locked, bolted—and guarded by a spell. Mother had told me to not go out; if I listened and stayed inside, the spell would prevent anyone or anything from entering, and would keep me protected. Had…had mother`s spell failed? That should have been impossible since she was…had…had been…so very good at casting spells, something I had never been good at.
And yet…this…insubstantial?!—human? figure was coming in anyway, climbing in the window as if the spell meant nothing. Nothing, when the spell had been cast with all of mother`s remaining life energy… and that was the type of spell that was always strongest. Mother had told me that. So…so…how….? I drew back into the corner as I studied him, afraid. How…how had he gotten through the spell? He must be strong…very strong…stronger than mother even! And…and… mother had always warned me that strong people were dangerous. That other people in general were dangerous. I`d seen pictures in books, but I`d been in this cottage my entire life, and only mother had entered. I was scared to see someone not mother. But…I was…a little curious. What did people who weren`t mother look like in real life, and not pictures?
In books they hadn`t looked so different, but this figure didn`t quite look like the pictures I`d seen in books, and he looked very different than mother; long, silvery blonde hair streamed in the moonlight, and the eyes were like no color I’d ever seen…no wait…that was the color of ice! Mother had sometimes brought ice back from the nearby village, so I knew what it was. But the color of his eyes could also be the color of water, perhaps…His eyes were a whitish, almost clear color, with a tint of blue! I hadn`t known that that was a real color. The figure wore pants, plain brown pants that hugged his hips, but no shirt, and his feet were bare. He ghosted around the room for a few minutes, seeing me but…but…not interested? As he glanced around. I breathed a slight sigh of relief when he only glanced my way but didn`t come too close. I had never seen someone not mother before, and I didn`t know what he`d do. I didn`t know what I should do.
The way he tilted his head slightly as he looked around caught my attention. His face was rather expressionless, but he was looking around as if trying to find something. He was…pretty. Maybe pretty wasn’t the right word, exactly, because he seemed to be a man, not a woman like mother was…had been…but he was pretty. He was much prettier than pictures of people I’d seen in books, prettier even, than mother. He was…the first man I`d ever seen…first person other than mother. The second person I`d seen in my life. Although why was he incorporeal? According to books, and what mother had taught me, people were as solid as she and I. I looked towards the window as the wind whistled through it and I shivered. Insubstantial or no, he had to be cold because I was, with the window open. But at least I was wearing a nice thick shirt, and leggings under my skirt, since it was already late autumn.
When he turned away from me, I was suddenly afraid, not of him, but of something else and I called “W-wait!” coughing at how dry my throat was. I…I didn’t want him to leave. Since mother…since mother had…if he left…I would be alone again. No one else had ever been here but me and my mother, and now that she had…had…had died, it had been just me, by myself. For a long time. A very long, quiet time. Long enough for me to have read every book in the house, memorize them, and daydream everything I possibly could. Long enough for me to lose track of time, and use up almost all of my sketchbooks, and the food stores that mother had left.
And…after that very long time…if…if he had been able to come in, that…that had to mean something, didn’t it? Mother had…had always told me that there was coincidence, but then there was fate. With the spell broken, I was no longer protected by mother…And he hadn`t hurt me, had barely looked at me. So…so…maybe he wasn`t the kind of person mother had warned me about? Story books had always had both good and bad people. When I had mentioned that to mother, she had smiled sadly and said it was wishful thinking. But that if anyone like that came along, she would certainly bring them to meet me. Maybe mother`s spirit had found him and led him to me…?
He didn’t turn back, didn’t seem to have heard my call, and left the same way he had come in. I swallowed hard. If…if he really left…I was alone again. I didn`t want to be alone anymore. While Mother had been alive, I had been alone sometimes, but it had been a different kind of alone than the alone I had been after she died. And I did not like the latter. I liked it less than I was afraid of him, so I hurriedly got up, grabbed a jacket and ran after him. Mother had always said that because other people wouldn`t be nice, we had to be, and sometimes that meant offering a cold person a jacket. Not that I ever had before, but mother had told me that she had, to people in town…and…and maybe being nice would mean he wouldn`t leave. I didn`t want to be alone. I didn`t…I didn`t…
I followed easily, though unsteadily—even tripping out the window--it had been a while since I’d been on my feet. I coughed at how hard I`d landed, but tried to quickly stand back up. I usually stayed in bed. With no one to talk to and nowhere to go, what was the point in getting out of bed? I hadn’t realized that that would make my legs unsteady; it was also a little painful to walk.
I hesitated slightly at the gate just beyond the garden: the gate that I had never been past. When I was little, the gate had shocked me every time that I touched it, so I had stopped trying. But he was heading into the forest, and in another moment or two, he would be out of sight, and I would be alone again. Alone…Alone forever. Mother wasn`t here anymore, and he had managed to get past her spell…that meant…that meant he was stronger than mother, didn`t it? And someone stronger than mother could certainly protect me from…whatever it was that mother had been protecting me from. She had never told me what...
I hesitated, watching him ghost along. I still didn`t know for sure if he was a good person or a bad person. And Mother had always warned me against other people. But…but I didn`t want to lose him. I…I didn`t want to be alone. I didn`t want to be alone more than I was afraid of following him. I braced myself for the shock when I touched the gate, which was weaker than I remembered. There was a slight tug of resistance as I passed the gate, as if mother had left a spell on that too, but when I pushed forward, it fell away. I was surprised, since last time I had tried to go past the gate when mother had died, it hadn`t let me through, no matter how I pushed. That must mean that it was ok to follow him….didn`t it?
I looked back at the house once I was past the gate. The small one story wooden cottage that my mother had built with her own two hands, with the small, carefully tended garden along the side. Although it was already starting to grow wild, since it had been mother that had tended to it. I had always wondered what was beyond the fence, where I stood now, but mother had always warned me away from leaving, telling me everything that could go wrong, and that I couldn`t go out until I was a grown up, like her. That people past the fence wouldn`t be understanding, and would be harsher on children then adults…they weren`t…hadn`t been…understanding of the fact that Mother could do magic. She had had scars to prove it, something that had frightened me. Especially since sometimes, just leaving for a day to get supplies, she came back with new scars. I closed my eyes on the tears that threatened, and turned resolutely towards the forest. Mother wasn`t here now. Surely I didn`t have to be alone the rest of my life…?
Despite unsteady legs, I only fell a few times, while chasing him until we were a little ways away from the clearing that the house was in. My ‘run’ wasn’t very fast, and was more of a stumbling walk, but he was not going that fast either, still ghosting slowly, looking around him as he walked, as if searching for something still. Mother had often told me that there were tree roots everywhere in this forest, and I had seen her trip as she walked towards the village to get us supplies, so I watched for them. Not that it helped, since I didn’t have the night vision this man evidently had. He didn`t trip at all. It wasn`t night yet, but in the forest was darker than I`d expected.
…I…was a little scared. I didn`t actually know anything about men, other than what I`d read in books. Mother had said that they were similar to women, but more stubborn, and often stronger, which was why you had to be careful. But I didn`t know if that would mean he was good or bad. Stubborn could be both. Strong could be both. But…after…after mother died…everything had been quiet. It had been just me, alone. Just me. I didn`t like it. I had been alone before, when mother went to the village, but never for more than a day. After mother had…had died…it had been so long…why…why did I have to be alone?
This was a relatively dense forest that we were walking through, and the evergreen trees grew tall, untouched by others because this was mother`s property, and despite people hurting her, they had never dared hurt the land near our cottage. I knew that much, even if I had never been this far before. Mother had told me that she had made sure no one could get close. And so many trees, and such a small path between them meant I had to pay attention to that rather than my thoughts. But I kept glancing up to make sure I didn`t lose him. I couldn`t lose him.
“Wait!” I said again, trying to be louder, looking up and seeing that the man was closer now, and he had slowed enough that this time I was close enough to reach out, mostly because he had paused, looking at a tree. Though seemingly insubstantial, I grabbed his arm easily enough, as I tripped, falling against him. How could I grab his arm when he was insubstantial? Maybe he was just translucent? Although that didn’t explain how he had gotten through mother’s spell…and I noticed too, that a man`s arm didn`t feel any different than mother`s had. All muscle and wiry strength hidden underneath. Now he turned. Since he saw me, I dropped my hand from his arm, since I had got my balance and he was watching me. His expression was only mildly curious—or perhaps I imagined that he was. His expression was pretty blank, not telling me much about how he was feeling. Mother had been more expressive. Perhaps men were just expressionless? Having never met a man before, I wasn`t sure.
I twisted my hands nervously. I had never talked to anyone other than mother before. “A-aren’t y-you c-c-cold?” by the lack of change in his expression, I realized that he didn’t understand. Mother had always looked at me rather blankly when I asked something she didn`t understand. But just now I`d asked a simple question, so…why didn’t he understand? Had I said it wrong? Or was it just the language I was speaking that he didn’t understand? I didn’t know any other, though there were others. Mother had taught me a few words here and there of some of the others, but had never taught me another language in its entirety. Was he…was he not from the village mother used to visit?
Maybe I`d said it wrong. I tried again, to the same response. I bit my lip a little and looked at him, not sure what to do if he didn`t understand, then I handed him the jacket, repeating the question. He took it, but didn’t seem to know what to do with it. First he tried putting it on his head, then held it gingerly in one hand and sniffed at it. How odd! In books, people always had jackets when it was cold, and mother and I had always had jackets… “N-no, l-like th-this.” I took the jacket back, slung it around his shoulders—he was taller—helped him put his arms through the sleeves, then began buttoning it up for him. That`s how mother had done it for me when I`d been little, before I`d learned to do it myself. And I was trying to be nice, because he was cold. But because it was my jacket, it didn`t fit him properly. I was shorter than he was, and smaller.
He reached out and grabbed one of my wrists in a surprisingly strong grip, stopping me before I had finished. He studied the scrape I had obtained by falling when I had been chasing him. Then he brought my hand to his mouth and licked the cut. I felt his breath and his tongue was warm and rough against the scrape. He was…what was…he was licking my cut? “Ow!” it stung, and he wouldn’t let me pull away—somehow his grip was getting stronger. Why…why was he…l-licking my cut? Mother had always washed cuts, never…never…Oh! I watched startled as his physical body started to solidify, looking more like a person and less like a ghost. He looked up at me, and I was startled to see that his eyes had darkened to actual blue. His glance was quick though, and then he looked down again. I whimpered slightly when his teeth actually pierced the skin of my hand. That hurt! Why was he hurting me? Why was he biting me? Was he actually one of those bad people mother had warned me about? Moments later, there was nothing about him to suggest that he had ever been insubstantial at all. He was real, solid like a regular person. That was…how…? He couldn`t…
He lifted his head, and now I tried to pull away, scared, but he retained hold of my hand and pulled me closer to him, grip tight enough that I couldn`t move very much. I didn`t want to be hurt…it was scary. Mother had had all those scars from people hurting her…and now I was shivering…had it been this cold when I’d first left my room? It was cold. He put his arms around me—but not for warmth, like mother had, only to keep me near as he bit into my neck. It hurt and I whimpered and cried, and tried futilely to pull away again, hitting him. But it seemed he didn`t even notice that I had tried to pull away, and didn`t seem to notice me hitting him. He was very strong… stronger even, than mother.
His lips were warm, but my neck was cold, and got colder as I felt the blood leaving my body. My arms dropped, cold and nerveless. I couldn`t lift them anymore…What…was he not…not human? What…what was he; a…a…vampire? Mother had said vampires were legends…
I didn`t want to be close to him if he was going to hurt me. I…I…couldn’t think any more…Mother had always said that I had never been all that strong, which was also why I couldn`t go out until I was grown up…and mother had always panicked if I was bleeding, so losing blood didn`t seem like a good thing…and it hurt…it was cold…
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