On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

“Just how will this work?” Ileana asked, and not for the first time. After their excursion into Sibiu yesterday, on the festive day of Christmas, they had stumbled into something which had offered hope, no matter how flimsy, a place where it seemed even those not quite human, whether for good or for ill, had the chance of being accepted, and sheltered from persecution. After seeing the television broadcast, a wonderous, almost magical marvel, which apparently was not, but a product of science and technology, much as a sling was the natural progression from throwing stones, an iron spear from bronze, which followed crude carved wood…

It certainly would have been delightful to have such in the days long buried. I did enjoy reading, but even then, books were priceless treasures, not available to the common Rumân, the serfs and farmers who made up the bulk of those who dwelled within these lands. Now…

They had once more ventured onto the crowded streets of Sibiu, the people moving through the light snowfall, ignoring the grey skies and the bitter cold which would have kept the serfs indoors, huddling around their meagre fires. Such was almost disregarded by the brightly attired, modern folk, who casually wore clothes as fine as anything that Ileana or her family would have possessed, moving through the snow with purpose, laughing and joking with each other, or buying hot street food from vendors lining the broad, well-paved roads.

It makes my teeth itch and my stomach clench. I am so very hungry. But not merely for food… Her earlier thought about the joys of reading resurfaced, as they passed a small, dingy store, which sold books, and contained many thousands of tomes. Yes, they were not the meticulously bound and crafted books of her childhood, with hand-scribed and gilded letters, yet… their number and availability continued to amaze her, and some of the illustrations were so real, or so utterly fantastical, as to shock her.

Seeing Ileana’s gaze, and hearing the question she had asked several times, her blood child, Valeska, merely motioned to her to keep her voice down, glancing around cautiously, though trying not to draw attention. In her hand, she carried a small, cheap one of these mobile phones, which the last of their meagre money, except a few near-worthless coins, had been sunk into buying.

There is still my ring, and a few other lesser keepsakes. Valeska had returned her heirloom, which was a treasure of precious memories, but of less value than meeting her current needs. If the situation became truly desperate, she had imagined surely they could find someone willing to buy it, gold was always precious. Sadly her blood child had explained that selling gold was, while possible, fraught with checks and bureaucracy, and legitimate vendors, they would ask for names, and… identification, information they neither had nor were willing to or could risk giving.

“It is simple, little light.” Valeska flourished the device in her hand carefully, wary of pickpockets or thieves. It was shabby thing, small, flimsy, with a tiny screen without any of the tactile features of the one the barmaid had possessed. It is a… Nokia, I think Valeska called it. And it cost some two hundred leu, the currency of this modern country. I still find coins of silver and gold easier to understand. Who would trust this fluttery, patterned paper? Yet it must be I who is mistaken, as everyone seems to.

Two hundred leu was a pittance, though able to buy them both a meal to fill their stomachs, hence why the mobile phone was so pitiful. But her blood child insisted they needed it, and her explanation was a little hard for Ileana to grasp.

“I may be an old woman who lived alone in the mountains, but I’m still no fool. I at least understand these new modern technologies, even if I had little use for them. One time, when I was selling some of my produce in town, a supplier insisted on sending me some stupid newsletters and other annoying nonsense. I made an email address just to shut him up and never bothered to check. But I remembered it still existed.” She flourished the phone. “Luckily my mind is still sharp as a razor. I’m far from senile. Perhaps now…” Her complexion had recovered further over the night, the blood that Ileana had gifted her integrating and working on repairing her injuries, though at a cost to her flesh and blood, as she had lost further weight, seeming somewhat gaunt, due to their paucity of sustenance. “…if I am a Strigoi, then I shall not age, if the old tales are to be believed.”

“I keep telling you, I am not a Strigoi or a Moroi, the restless dead! I am simply what I am!” Ileana twisted her lips into a sullen pout as she tugged at her hood to keep the snow from sneaking down her neckline. “And we age, do you think we remain as a babes for ever? Did I spring fully this size from my mother’s womb? We merely, like our blood, mature slowly, sluggishly. So yes, you shall live long, Valeska, just slowed. I have explained this before!” She was exasperated by her blood child’s repetitive questions, missing the slight smile on her lips.

“Assuming we survive our pursuers.” Her blood child could not help but say such, and Ileana made a gesture to ward off misfortune, faking spitting three times, quite the irony, as she remembered her brother saying that the serfs and common folk often made such gestures or laid out garlic, red and white ribbons and thread, or left salt outside their hovels, or if they were fortunate enough to have one, nailed a horseshoe upside down above their door.

“It still amuses me you have the same mannerisms as we do.” Her blood child chuckled, breath rasping. Her eyes were still ringed with dark circles, and her hollow cheeks gave her a ghoulish, stressed cast, but she was at least haler than yesterday overall.  If I am not mistaken, a few new wisps of white hair are growing from her head.

“Now…” She flourished her cheap purchase. “When I contacted the Japanese embassy, I left this email address. I could have had them contact us in another manner, but… best we lie low. Even if the barmaid could be trusted, I would feel a piază rea, that I would jinx her to ill-fortune. I would never sleep again if she was caught up in our troubles, little light. When we are in hiding, we should leave as few clues to our whereabouts as possible.”

“I agree.” Ileana nodded slowly. “I fear that our pursuers, that man Ardelean, will use other means to find us. The longer we delay here…”

“Exactly. So I felt it unwise to wait for any correspondence to reach our little home away from home…” Her tone was dry. “…nor would exposing it do us any good. Rabbits always have a few hidden exits to escape the predators, and we, my little bunny…”

Ileana’s face screwed up at that nickname. I even prefer little light! I am no rabbit, even if I seem timid and constantly flee. If pushed… if pushed, I can… Putting that unpleasant thought aside, remembering the warnings her mother gave her, so long ago and yet to her so recently, she let her blood child speak.

“…are rabbits being chased down by a persistent, cunning hunter. And our assets are exhausted. I’m too old to show a man a good time for a few leu, and I’ll be cold and dead in my grave before I let you, my dear granddaughter…” She was still keeping up that fiction, and Ileana rolled her eyes again, both exasperated and comforted by the pretence, even if, as the one who gave her precious heart’s blood, she was the mother, and Valeska her child.

“…do what I had wrongly accused you of when you first turned up, ragged, lost and confused, at my door.” She paused, even as she fiddled with the slow, clunky phone, water from melted snow getting on the screen, making it hard to read. “Not that there’s anything wrong with physical affection. I’m a country girl at heart, little light. I had my fair share of dalliances when I was a young woman. Some pleasant, others not so much. And I also know desperation can drive people to make choices in the heat of the moment. I won’t blame anyone in unfortunate circumstances. But… we have hope. I’m surprised, you know? I never thought that the Japanese Ministry for… Spiritual Matters, the translation software on her phone said… this piece of junk can’t even do that, it can barely text, email and make calls. Still, what can I expect for just two hundred leu?”

Ileana nodded, still not entirely following, but when an hour ago, Valeska had erupted with excitement while trying to explain, and had hurried them out of the small, cramped dwelling, she had felt the faint stirrings of hope.

“Fortunately, under the Japanese, there is an English, though my English is rather terrible, I admit, and more importantly, a Romanian translation. Otherwise only the Lord…” Her words made Ileana flinch, and Valeska tutted. “Sorry, little light. Force of habit. Besides, it is just the fools who claim to follow His will who persecute you, I believe that God must be good. Else he’s merely a Devil.” She coughed, embarrassed. “…what I meant to say was, I wouldn’t know who to ask for help translating it. If what they say is true…” Valeska gaze turned to a small, odd device set into the wall of a building which proclaimed itself Banca Transilvania. A man was standing in front of it, and it was making some odd beeping sounds as he touched the screen, not dissimilar to the barmaid’s phone yesterday.

Moments later, a whirring was heard, and the man pulled something free, placing it in his pocket, before walking away. When he was gone, Valeska waited for a minute, scanning up and down the quieter street until the passers-by had diminished, and she hurried over, phone in one hand, before quickly pressing the screen, which beeped.

“Cardless… withdrawal?” Ileana read, and her blood child motioned to her to keep her voice down.

“Yes. I might have been able to unravel it, even without speaking Japanese, as the numbers stand out, but…” She continued tapping, entering a code from the message she had received, and moments later, the machine beeped and whirred, and soon a metal slot opened up, and Ileana jumped, surprised. Then out came a bundle of the brightly coloured paper that passed as money nowadays, and her eyes, which shifted between sapphire, emerald and an almost metallic copper, depending on the angle of the light, gazed down in wonder, as Valeska hurriedly tucked it away inside her coat.

“I’m both shocked and impressed they responded so generously. It seems a bit foolish, opening them up to being scammed, but… I suppose talk of you, and your suffering at the hands of this Church of True Revelation, moved them. Or they have ways of finding out information. That might be troubling. Now then…”

She grabbed Ileana’s hand, and as their cool skins made contact, Ileana’s mind raced, memories of happier times returning. She was lost in thought until moments later they were in a small, nearly deserted store, a pair of hot, steaming mugs of a dark, fragrant beverage before them both, alongside a small plate of sponge cakes, filled with cherries, raspberries and other red fruits.

“Might as well eat up. We have a decision to make.” Taking her own advice, Valeska took a sip of the strong, black coffee, letting out a contented sigh. “That wakes me up.” She used a fork to cut off a piece of cake, ferrying it to her mouth with a satisfied smile, and Ileana needed no further invitation, her stomach gurgling, sending a reddish tint of embarrassment across her pale skin. She took a sip of coffee, tongue curling at the bitter taste, and her blood child chuckled, sliding over some sugar and cream.

“A childish palate indeed. No shame in adding a little sweetness, dear.”

Pouting, Ileana nodded, spooning in several heaps of the sweet, white powder, so different to the coarse, brownish sugar she remembered. A drizzle of milk, and her next sip was indeed less astringent. Taking a forkful of cake, she ate with relish, before pausing, realising Vakesha had something important to say.

“Oh, I simply enjoyed watching you eat, little light. It was the same when you stumbled upon my home. Now then… we were given a quite large sum of money. Honestly, I wasn’t aware you could withdraw so much in a single transaction. It must be the benefits of government interference. Oh, it’s not enough to make us wealthy, little light, don’t mistake me.” Her smile was teasing, as she took a sip of coffee to orient her thoughts. “But we could go to ground for a while without having to worry about starving. We don’t have to follow their suggestions, just because we took their money… though Isus Hristos taught us that it’s a sin to steal. Though to survive, sometimes we have to get a little dirty.”

Ileana nodded, though she lacked confidence in their ability to evade detection. Indeed, without her blood child’s desperate flight, even while dying, outmanoeuvring the Church pursuers with her trusty, now departed vehicle, and her deep knowledge of the surrounding terrain, they would never have escaped. Then her blood child made a deal with the Mafia, and they were safely ferried here, and survived in hiding, though their meagre resources dwindled.

“Then, we could do as they suggest. The Japanese embassy is in Bucharest. We could take a bus, or a train, and reach there by this evening. Though… I get an uneasy feeling, doing that.” She reached in and felt inside her coat. “We have enough. I’d prefer to be subtle.”

“You are leaning towards accepting their offer?” Ileana asked, between bites of cake, and Valeska merely smiled knowingly.

“It was your idea, my little light. When you saw that broadcast, didn’t you say an enemy of your enemy could be your ally? From what little we heard since, he seems the sort to protect those in danger. And in danger, we certainly are. And it seems he has no fear of those unlike us, at least the pretty ones.”

Ileana flushed at the implication. “I am not… some sort of monster. I am simply who I am. And I may be pretty, but what does that have to do with matters? That cursed Judge would burn me just the same were I a stunning beauty, or a disgusting wretch.”

“Oh, my dear, you are certainly young. Let grandmother keep an eye on you, lest you fall into trouble you can’t get out of. More than we are in now.” She raised one white, threadbare eyebrow teasingly, an odd contrast with her sunken, shadowed eye. “Men will naturally seek to impress and protect beautiful girls, and this one especially. His public image is built on heroics. Were he to mistreat or abandon you, it would shatter that. Though of course…” She drummed her fingers on the table idly, thinking. “…if such was never revealed, covered up, that wouldn’t help us. And Japan is surely not a monolith, there will be contrasting and competing interests. There always are.”

Ileana nodded. Her family was quite unified, but certainly, others of her kind competed, there were rivals and allies aplenty, or so she had learned from her tutors.

“Still, it seems that the Church that threatens us has little to no foothold there. Do you still think it worth the gamble?”

Ileana finished her coffee and cake, hastily licking the fork clean. Her stomach, now no longer grumbling incessantly, was pleasantly sated. “I do. You said we can take the… money… and go into hiding again. But we will not get a second chance from them if we do so. And when it runs out, we will have cut off the Mărțișor, the red and white threads of hope for peace and prosperity.”

“Yes, that’s a worry. Well then…” Her blood child stood, straightening her thin coat. “…listen to me, dear. I’ll steer us there safely.”

Ileana nodded, and following her back out into the cold winter chill, flakes of snow still falling from the grey clouds overhead, she wondered whether her choice was correct. If I am a little rabbit, as Valeska so insultingly likened me to, then… hiding only delays the inevitable, when the fox drags me from my burrow. No, we must escape far from such predators, or better yet, find a greater beast to shield us from the wicked foxes…

***

“Isn’t your granddaughter hot? I know it’s cold outside, but here… I keep it warm!” the burly, bearish man before them asked, sitting in a somewhat rumpled outfit in a shade of blue that her blood child had called a suit, which resembled slightly some of the attire she remembered her brothers wearing, though there were many differences, obviously, in both fabric and style. Sweat was dripping from his red face, and indeed, it was shockingly warm inside, despite the lack of fire. Electricity again, perhaps? Or some other ingenious invention that has flourished while I slept?

“She is, but…” Valeska put on a sad, almost frightened expression. “…sir, you don’t know what it’s been like. My dear daughter, foolish idiot she was for love, steamed up so much she married a man everyone knew was unsuitable. Lazy, crude, a sour temper… still, love is blind, isn’t it?”

The man, a dealer of used cars, the same sort of carriage her blood child had sold before, seemed puzzled by the explanation, but Valeska carried on, setting a scene.

“…in the end, my daughter died, and… that layabout, he wanted my dear granddaughter to earn money for him. That way.” she insinuated, shuddering. “So we ran, with barely the possessions on our back, and my modest savings. He might be a lazy wretch, but he has friends in low places, if you catch my drift?”

The man nodded, somewhat interested in the outcome of this tale now, and her blood child did not disappoint. “They have eyes everywhere, and while there are many women fallen low to disgrace, and one who slipped the net might seem a small matter… my granddaughter takes after my daughter. A beauty. So the Nașu, their Godfather, he wants her for a mistress. Now…” She narrowed her eyes. “Don’t think you can sell that information. I haven’t said which Godfather. We’ve already fled far. If you stick your hand into this fire, don’t blame me if you get burned.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” the man chuckled. “It’s like something out of a drama. Two women on the run from the mob and an abusive relative. That being said, while I sympathise, I’m a businessman. I can’t go any lower than five thousand leu for the car. Best I can do. I have my own kids to worry about.”

“I understand, but…” Valeska fidgeted restlessly. “They have connections. If I’m on the paperwork, they’ll find I bought a car here, and… you know as well as I do, the Police, there are many rotten apples willing to earn a few leu, selling information or finding a… lost traveller… for their dear friends.”

The man agreed, nodding, a sour expression on his face. “That I do, I’ve had a few run-ins myself. But you see, the law’s the law. Every vehicle sold has to have the right paperwork. Verifying your licence, and more.”

“But…” Valeska wheedled, and soon more money was placed on the table, and the man let out a wry chuckle, as he scooped the money up.

“Just don’t let the car be involved in any crimes, you hear me?” He scrawled some random letters on the documentation, before spilling his half-drunk pot of coffee on the pages, smearing the ink and staining it to an unreadable mess. “I can get away with this once, if anyone checks, as an unfortunate accident, but… if the car causes trouble, it’ll be traced back to me.”

“You have my thanks. Thank him, dear granddaughter.”

At Valeska’s words, Ileana bowed, face still covered by her hood, and the man tossed her blood child the keys, which she caught in one pale hand. “I’m glad there are still some gentlemen about, willing to help a poor grandmother and granddaughter, when they are in trouble.” Valeska thanked him politely.

He took money for it. I do not find it so praiseworthy.

“Don’t worry, if I have to get rid of the car, I’ll make sure it’s scrapped properly and not sold on to criminals. But I anticipate we’ll be using it for a long time, so long as our purchase isn’t leaked.” She assured him.

“Oh, I like money, but you’re right.” The man mopped at his sweaty brow. “I’m not the sort to deal with criminals. Too risky. I’m an honest man.”

The conversation concluded, and soon they were inside the small, white car. It was cramped, and the heater gave off a strange rattling noise, but as Valeska turned they key, and the gentle thrum of the engine sent vibrations through the poorly fitted seats, Ileana felt a sense of quiet relief and comfort. A small bag of snacks and drinks was stored on the cramped back seat, and as the car began to drive, leaving the forecourt, Ileana squeezed shut her eyes, enjoying the moment of calm.

“We could have taken the bus or the train, but… out on the open road, who can catch us?” Vakesha fiddled with the radio, until it found a news station. Now it was talking about some unimportant matters, but the chatter of the male and female presenters was quite soothing. “It’s around four hours to drive to the capital. I’m not going to rush. Then we’ll head straight to the embassy. They can dispose of the car legally. Assuming they take us in.”

“I… do worry about that.” Ileana admitted, looking out of the window gloomily, watching the passers-by who were braving the snow as it began to come down in heavier flurries. “I am not a monster, I am not! I am a person, just as you are…”

“Were, perhaps, little light.” Valeska’s words were soft, yet not cruel. “I believe I died then, and I’m a restless spirit now, bound to you.”

“That is not true. A blood child is…” Ilena bit her lip, feeling the sting as one of the fangs she kept hidden pierced her tender flesh, and she tasted copper and iron, yet it did not stir her heart or stomach as different sanguine fluids might. “…no, it is not wrong to say that perhaps others might have used the call of blood to dominate and order their children. I… if you wish to leave me, return home, perhaps, when all this has blown over, and the Church with their witch-burners and demon-hunters has moved on… I shall manage.”

“Shall you now?” Valeska’s voice was still quiet. “How very brave of you. Yet I remember you, turning up on my door, barely knowing left from right, looking like a feeble, abused girl seeking escape from bad troubles. Even ready to give away your only treasure, your little ring…”

Ileana clutched at it once again, amazed she still possessed it, as at every turn she had accepted its loss, yet it returned to her.

“…just for a little warmth and simple kindness. No, you might be a Strigoi… and don’t correct me again, little light. I do not use it as a slight. Isus Hristos knows compassion, I am sure. But you are a blood-drinker, aren’t you, little light? My survival proves it.”

At her reluctant nod, Valeska continued, as she skilfully drove through the streets, reading signs which still mystified Ileana. What is this… A1? Some sort of large road for these horseless carriages, cars…

“Perhaps before I met you, I’d be hanging up garlic, scattering salt, praying to the cross… but it’s hard to see you as a monster, little light. Though I admit, looks can be deceiving. But I’m an old, lonely woman. A sour one, some might say. Happy with my own company at the best of times, rather anticipating the time the Lord takes me away from this Earth at the worst. I may be many things, but I don’t believe I’m a poor judge of character, nor do I see myself as uncharitable. Besides…”

Her lips curled into a scowl, as her hand idly turned the wheel, or worked the strange, knob-topped stick that made rusty clanking sounds and sent the car shuddering when pulled or pushed. “…I have no love for those who burned my home and killed me. And I know I’m not dead, just slowed, but… ah, when the milk is spilled, you just have to mop it up and not cry over it. Best I think that old Valeska Văduva, no, now I am simply Valeska… or I do take your family name now? I don’t even know what that is…”

“Ah… usually no, blood children take a derivative name.” Ileana shook her head in memory. “Our kind was very… precious… about bloodlines. Those of us who merely find the sun uncomfortable were seen as the only true members of our kind. Some poor unfortunates could not even go out unless the day was stormy, lest their skins burn, bleed and blister. Father was especially disdainful of those…” She fell silent for a while, and as the car drove on down the road, Valeska tactfully left her to her memories, until, her breath fogging on the glass of the window, beads of snow melting to droplets that streaked down it like lonely tears, Ileana regained her voice.

“Roșuluminel. That was our clan. The sanguine, crimson moon.”

“Perhaps I should call you little red light then…” Valeska softly teased her. “Yes, it’s a beautiful name. Ileana Roșuluminel.”

“Perhaps then… Roșuanu. Of the sanguine. My blood child.” Ileana nodded, remembering her sister had given that as a name to those she chose. Again, it seems so near, yet… time has made it so distant, never to return.

“Valeska Roșuanu. It has a pleasant ring to it.” The older woman, her blood child, chuckled, and for a moment the sorrow of loneliness, of being out of place and out of time, was driven back. “I suppose I shall have to stick with you, dear. You know so little of the world, and while you might be a Strigoi, that won’t stop you getting scammed by some handsome man. Ah, to think I finally understand the worries of my own parents, all these years later.”

Giving up on protesting she was not a Strigoi, Ileana puffed out her pale cheeks, rather frustrated. “I am very clever. I was praised by all my tutors. I shall learn quickly.”

“Do you have time, no matter how quickly?” her blood child asked, her stern countenance reflected in the dirty mirror above her head. “I agree, it’s worth a gamble, seeking out the Japanese. We have proof they are not going to dismiss you… us now, I suppose… as monsters out of hand, as that Shaeula woman, the Faerie, has been accepted. But Faeries are seen as rather cute, seductive and charming. Strigoi… well, we have many tales of you unquiet spirits, though I can see most were fiction.”

“How unfair. The Lele would drink a man dry, until he was shrivelled up like a corpse, or so my brother…”

“No!” Valeska surprised Ileana with a short, sharp command. As she tilted her head, pale hair shifting, eyes shining with confusion, Valeska repeated her order. “No! My dear granddaughter, my little light, if I’m to take care of you, you’ll have to listen to me. Making such crude jokes is simply unacceptable. I won’t feel safe until I’ve handed you off to a proper gentleman, who will cherish you and take care of you for the rest of your life. Oh, the troubles of being a parent…”

Perplexed, Ileana found herself smiling. My parent? No, once more, she is my blood child. But it is true… Ileana was a prodigy in languages, and clever, a swift learner, all her tutors, her family, agreed. So she was confident in quickly being able to understand others. Yet… even now, knowing about ‘electricity’, ‘cars’, ‘mobile phones’ ‘television’ and more, she still could not rationalise them, nor how the world was interconnected. Even if I was lost a mere century or so from when I was forced to slumber, would I not still struggle? I was a sheltered aristocrat, I knew little of what the world outside our manor entailed, the lives of the serfs, the peasantry, even the other clans who were less affluent than ours…

Pondering that, Illeana watched the melting snow as it struck the window beside her, and the cars and larger, stranger vehicles, which zoomed past, lights cutting through the gloom, like giant, staring eyes. Not realising she was clenching her fists, she pondered, wondering just what reception awaited her at this embassy, and indeed, whether ordinary people, no, people from a distant land, would truly offer an orphan such as her shelter and succour…

***

“We’re here.” Valeska’s voice woke Ileana from her slumber. After a while, the dull, monotonous drive had lulled her to sleep, and now she blinked blearily, seeing an impressive four-story white brick building before them, reminding her a little of her own home, now lost to the fires and relentless march of time.

Rubbing at her tired eyes, which shimmered with chromatic and metallic hues, she blinked at the building, as Valeska parked up, several burly men, probably militia of some sort, Ileana guessed from their bearing, coming over.

“You can’t park here. This is sovereign Japanese territory, our embassy.” one of the men, short, with a strange set of features, clearly a foreigner, barked. The man beside him appeared tense, but Valeska merely smiled, and exchanged rapid words with them.

“It’s fine. My apologies. Oh, your Romanian is excellent, by the way. Yes, we were invited by order of one Haru Suzuki, Vice-Minister… yes, yes, her.”

“I see. But you can’t park that here…” the man argued, and Valeska shrugged.

“Sorry, we’re on the run, seeking… asylum, I suppose. We got this vehicle… a little illegally, so… if it could be disposed of?”

“That’s outside my paygrade, miss…”

“Valeska Roșuanu. Oh, do I need documentation? Unfortunately mine and my granddaughter’s were all lost when we were attacked…”

The second man eyed Ileana, and she leant forwards, soft rose-gold hair, glimmering red under the lights outside the embassy building, covering her face to hide her. His scrutiny was uncomfortable, and Ileana left handling matters to her blood child, who was better able to understand what was going on.

“I’m very sorry to hear that, Valeska-san… oh, sorry, doamna Roșuanu…”

“Yes, sadly I am a widow now, my little light here, my granddaughter, is all I have left. And to think she would be pursued by such wicked men for her… talents. She’s special, you know.”

 At her meaningful turn of phrase, the two guards glanced at each other, before their smiles grew warmer. “Oh, we understand. It’s a strange world, doamna, a strange world indeed. You might thank God, I suppose, though in Japan, we’re rather spoiled for choice, in that regard. We have some other guests, too. Just let me confirm.”

The man stepped away, and Ileana watched him pull out his phone, and start speaking in a language she had absolutely no experience with. Perhaps I might struggle more than I imagined. Just what tongue is this? Japanese, I imagine? But I know no forefather language to this. Soon, the man was done, and he politely opened the door of the small car for her. Stepping out into the snow, Ileana took a shaky breath. I wonder what will happen here…

“This way, doamna Roșuanu, domnişoară…”

“Ileana.” her blood child clarified, and the man smiled slightly.

“A pretty name. This way. The party you are to meet is waiting, and we will arrange everything.”

Everything? Ileana wondered precisely what that meant. Hoping it was nothing to worry about, she clenched her fists, hoping this was not an ambush or a trap, and that for the first time since she awoke, buried in the ground, the smell of smoke and charred flesh lingering in her nose, the sound of screams and wails polluting her ears still despite long centuries having seemingly passed, she would be able to finally feel safe, even if only for a short time, free from the pursuit of those that would seek to do her, and her new blood child, harm…