A Vampire's Life - Part 1

4 July, 1600

The small fishing village was a lively place. Set along the northern coast of Prussia, in territory that the Romans had once called 'Germania', a couple of farms flanked it, and small merchant vessels lined the docks. The fishermen were out in their boats, hauling in their catches before the storm that was threatening the area struck. The sky was gray, filled with storm clouds heavy with rain, though it was not yet falling. Today was a special day in the village – it was Bastian Falkenrath's eleventh birthday and, as was typical of birthdays here, there was to be a big party.

All the children in the village had gathered at the small home that the Falkenrath family-owned, as had many of the wives. The oldest child there was Bastian's brother, Donner, who was five years his senior today. While Bastian kept the kids his age entertained, playing all manner of games, Donner worked on chopping firewood and storing it so that it wouldn't get soaked by the storm. Normally, he would have been out on the family fishing boat, but today his father had told him to stay behind, chop wood, and help with the party however his mother instructed.

During one of the games, Bastian broke away from the other kids and let them keep playing, making his way over to his brother as he was expertly chopping wood. He watched him for a moment, waited for his brother to look at him, and then spoke. “Won't you come and play too, big brother? Please?” As he asked, he gave his best sad-puppy look.

Donner laughed and leaned the ax he was using against the stump he'd been chopping wood on, then stepped over to his brother and took a knee, ruffling his hair a bit. “I can't, little brother. I have to get all this wood chopped before dad gets home.” He thumbed over his shoulder toward the dwindling woodpile behind him. Then he looked toward the sky, “Or worse, before it rains.”

Bastian pouted a bit, but then smiled brightly as an idea formed in his young mind, “I know! Me and the others can gather up the wood that you have chopped already, and put it away. Then you'll be done as soon as you're done chopping.”

Donner was about to say something, likely something along the lines of Bastian needing to go enjoy his party and the time with his friends, when a feminine voice interrupted from behind him.

“That sounds like an excellent idea to me, Bastian.”

Bastian leaned to look around his brother as the elder of them stood and turned. There, before both of them, was a lovely girl, petite of figure, with short raven-colored hair and dazzling sapphire eyes. Donner froze at the sight, and Bastian grinned to himself as he saw his brother's reaction. The older boy swallowed thickly, finding himself at a loss for words.

The girl giggled, “You work too hard, Donner. Always so serious, too.” She stepped closer, “If your brother wants to help you, and thinks he can get the others to pitch in, then let him try. It is his birthday, after all. Can you really deny him some time with you, today, of all days?”

“See!” Bastian said, poking Donner's side, “Even Elsa thinks I'm right.”

Donner looked from Elsa, down to Bastian, and back, then shook his head and sighed. “Fine, okay, I guess I'm outnumbered.” He shrugged, “You win.”

Bastian beamed happily and ran off to get his friends, meanwhile Elsa stepped closer and lowered her voice, whispering as she put her arms over Donner's shoulders, “He's almost as cute as you.” She leaned close, then quickly placed a kiss on his nose and stepped back, giggling as she saw him blush. “I'll be the same age as you next month. Better not try avoiding me with work, too.” She winked, then turned and walked away, “Now hurry up, or you'll miss all the fun!”

Donner still found himself speechless, though Elsa rounded the corner of the house soon enough, and the children all showed up a moment later. With Bastian showing them where to put the wood and how to stack it, they collected up what had already been chopped quickly, and Donner got back to chopping the last pieces. As Bastian watched him, a small, knowing smile came to his lips. Reading his brother had become pretty easy, especially when he liked a girl. And no girl besides Elsa had ever made him act so out of sorts. He smirked at a thought. The young boy was so very sure that no girl would ever make him act that way.

Three hours later, most of the kids were tired from playing as much as they had, and from helping with the wood. While they all had decided to sit around, eat snacks, and rest, Bastian, Donner, and their cousin Kilian had gone down to the docks to wait for Bastian and Donner's father. Kilian was six months older than Bastian, with a braid of honey-blonde hair that hung down between her shoulder blades, and a pair of deep green eyes. Slightly taller and better educated at this point in their young lives, she had come from a small city a few miles away to spend the day with her cousin.

Sitting between his elder brother and his cousin, Bastian kicked his legs in that bored way that young kids do, letting them hang off the end of the dock. Kilian did the same. Donner sat with only one leg hanging off the edge, his other crossed under the knee of the first.

“Where is he?” Bastian asked, though he didn't really expect an answer. Chin in his hands, and elbows on his knees, he looked out to the sea. “He said he was going to be home earlier than normal today.”

Donner put a hand on his shoulder, patting it, “Hey, you know he wouldn't miss out on your birthday. He'll be back soon.”

“Yeah,” Kilian added, “Your dad always comes back before the sun goes down.” She cast those green eyes toward the sky then, “Besides, that storm looks like it's getting closer. He'll come in before it hits. I'm sure of it.”

As if the words had summoned it, lightning cracked out over the sea, while thunder boomed and rolled through the skies overhead. A moment later, raindrops began to fall, slowly, but the slow pace didn't last long. By the time that the three kids were up and moving for home, the rain was coming down in sheets. When they walked through the front door, they were soaked to the bone.

An hour later, they had changed into dry clothing and a decent fire was crackling away in the fireplace. Bastian's mother was trying to make herself look calm, pretending that everything was fine. The children, all but Bastian, sat huddled – listening to stories; ancient legends that Donner knew. Greek, Roman, Norse; even tales of King Arthur's Court and stories from the Crusades about the famed Knight's Templar – the origin of the myths didn't matter. The children loved them. Bastian did too, but his focus was on what lay outside the window.

Somewhere out in the driving rain was his father, and the boy was worried. His father was a man of his word, and while he often lost track of time out on the water, never had he done so to such an extent as this. At some point, Kilian had noticed her cousin by the window and broken off from the others, sitting next to him and hugging him.

As he hugged her back, he whispered to her. “I'm really worried. He's never done this before. He's never stayed out in a storm.”

“Maybe he was catching lots and lots of fish and didn't want to lose the opportunity.” She replied in that same whisper, slowly pulling him closer to her and petting his head as he leaned against her. She could see the tears in his eyes. “He will be okay, Bastian. You just have to believe that.”

All Bastian could do was nod and force the tears away before they could fall.

Another hour would pass. Then another after it, and the storm had only grown more fierce. The rain pelted the village, and a lightning bolt had struck a tree, blasting it in two. Small leaks in the ceiling had opened up, and drips were coming down here and there into pots and bowls. Dinner time had come and gone, though Bastian had refused, saying that he wasn't hungry. His mother decided not to force him; she knew what was wrong, and she felt the same way.

Kilian had left his side, only because she was hungry, and Donner had taken her place until dinner was done. Then he had gone about collecting the dishes and washing them with Kilian's help. While the two of them did the chore, Bastian's mother moved to sit with him, pulling him onto her lap and holding him, kissing the top of his head tenderly and keeping him snug in her arms.

“I know you're worried.” She spoke to him softly, petting his head, “I am too.”

Bastian was quiet for a moment, then turned his head and hugged his mother tight. He didn't look up at her, but he spoke so she could hear. “Don't be, mama. Papa will be okay. He has to be.”

The woman smiled softly, hugging him back and whispering to him, “You're right.”

They stayed that way a few minutes, until suddenly the door burst open, slamming against the wall before some stepped inside, grabbed it, and forced it back in place – sliding the bar across the inside to hold it. Everyone inside the house stopped and stared for a moment, not sure what was going on. The person was shrouded in darkness. A heavy coat was on him, as was a wide-brim hat that had been ruined by the weather. He was soaked all the way through, water dripping off of him as if he were a living storm cloud. Then he reached up and pulled off the hat, pushed off his coat, and hung them.

When he turned toward the light of the fire, Bastian's eyes lit up and he ran to the man, “Dad!” He shouted as he ran, clamping his arms around the man when he reached him, and earning a hearty laugh as his reward. His father took a knee then, pulling his son into a tight embrace.

“George! Thank God!” Bastian's mother said as she stood and moved toward the two, wrapping her arms around him as he stood upright again; Bastian still holding him between the two.

“You had us all worried, Old Man.” Donner said as he stepped over – having been telling stories again to keep the kids entertained.

“Yeah, Uncle George! We thought you were dead or something!” Kilian said as she ran over and gave him a punch to the thigh. George just laughed and ruffled her damp hair – the young girl having let it hang naturally to help dry it.

“Well, it's good to see that I'm loved.” George smiled and held his wife and youngest son, then kissed his wife, “I don't suppose there's any of your delicious stew left, is there, my dearest Hilda?”

Hilda smirked a little bit, “I had planned on your appetite. There's plenty.” She looked to Donner, “Get your father some food, son.”

“On it.” Donner said, and turned to head for the kitchen.

“Me too, big brother!” Bastian called after him, “I'm starving!”

Hilda smiled at hearing that, then turned and moved over to the children, lighting a lantern and putting a small wooden box with a hole in the side over it. Turning the box, it cast a beam of light on a dark wall, and she began to make shadow puppets – showing the children how to do them too.

Meanwhile, George took a knee in front of his son and smiled warmly, “I'm sorry that I worried you, son. But, I did bring you something.”

Immediately, Bastian was curious, “You did? What?” He asked, his excitement at the thought of a present from his father clearly evident on his features.

Reaching into his pocket, George grinned and pulled something out, though kept it hidden in his hand. “Put out your hand and close your eyes.” He said, and when his son had done so, he placed the gift into his palm. “Okay, open your eyes.”

Blinking his eyes open, Bastian looked at what his father had placed in his hand, turning it over and over again. “A coin?” He wasn't disappointed. No, he was curious about it. It wasn't like any coin he'd seen. He recognized the common currencies.

“A special coin.” George said proudly, “Do you know who that man is?” He asked as he pointed toward it. When Bastian shook his head, George leaned to whisper in his ear. “Julius Caesar.”

From his brother's stories, Bastian recognized the name, “Really?” His eyes got big as he looked at the coin again, “He was real? That's him?”

George nodded as he looked at his son. “Yes, to both.”

“How did you get it?”

At that, George chuckled, “It fell out of a fish.”

Bastian stared, and George laughed, “Really?”

“Cross my heart. That coin fell out of a fish. Must have gone from one fish to the next, each time one got eaten, for over a thousand years.” George could only smile at that. Even to him, the story sounded silly. More likely that someone had dropped it in the water by accident after finding it and cleaning it, than it being in fish guts for over a thousand years. But the fish guts made for a better story.

Looking at the coin again, he turned it in his hands, looking at the man with the laurel wreath upon his head. He then looked at the letters, “What does it say?”

“I'm not sure, to be honest.” George said, then turned his head, “Hilda, my love. Can you spare a moment?” He asked, “Your son and I have a bit of a curiosity you might enjoy.”

Excusing herself from the children and letting one of the other mothers take over, she moved over to the two with a smile, “What is it, dears?”

“This, mama.” Bastian said, handing the coin to her.

Holding it up so she could see it in the light of the fire, she was entranced for a moment, “One of Julius Caesar's denarii. Amazing...”

“Quite the find, if I say so myself.” George said proudly.

“What does the writing on it mean, mama?” Bastian asked.

She looked over the coin, and the letters upon it: CAESAR DICT QVART. She smiled, “It means Caesar Dictator Quatrus. This is one of the coins minted after he was made dictator for life.”

When she handed the coin back to her son, he blinked, looking at her, “How do you know this stuff, mama?”

Hilda just gave a little knowing smile, but George explained. “Your grandfather had intended to be a priest until he met your grandmother. When he chose to have a family rather than join the priesthood, he taught your mother everything he had learned.” He chuckled, “That's why she handles the money.”

Hilda gave his chest a playful backhanded swat, then pecked him on the cheek before heading back to entertain the children.

As the remaining hours passed, the mood returned to the jovial way it had been earlier in the day. When the storm outside finally waned, the other families gathered their children and headed home; leaving Kilian as the only guest in the home. Donner had gone to bed, but Bastian and Kilian had stayed up, talking quietly and making shadow puppets by moonlight. About the time they both started to get bored and think about bed, they noticed that there was still light coming up from downstairs. Curious, they moved out of the room, quiet as church mice, and down the stairs.

As they moved downstairs, they could hear voices, and peaked into the kitchen, seeing George and Hilda sitting at the table, talking to one another. Staying silent, they sat on the other side of the wall and listened to the two adults.

“So that's why you were so late? A meeting with the other fishermen?”

“Yes, my love. Sorry to have worried you, but it couldn't wait. Not after today.”

“Another bad catch?”

“Bad for all of us. Most didn't catch anything at all. I only caught one fish, myself.” George sighed, “Last year the nets were full every time we hauled them in. So far this year... almost empty. Today was the worst.”

Hilda was quiet for a moment, then finally asked in a quiet voice: “So what do we do?”

George, too, was quiet before he answered. “At the meeting, we all talked about this very thing. Tomorrow, we're going to go to the farmers. They have more money than we do. We're going to see if we can get them to buy our boats and homes. Maybe one or two will stay here, fish for them to provide fertilizer and food.”

“And us? Where will we all go?”

“We'll move.”

“Where?”

At that, there was a long pause before George answered.

“England.”

The two eavesdropping children waited, hoping that something more would be said, but the two adults had fallen silent. Looking to one another, distraught, they moved quickly and quietly up the stairs and back to the room they were sharing. There they sat, huddled together, holding each other.

“You're my best friend, Bassy. I don't want you to go.”

“I don't want to go either, Kili. I really, really don't.”