“I never had art. Music, but rarely, only on special occasions, and it was never for me to simply enjoy. I didn’t have histories to read, mathematics, or an education beyond the smithy. All I’ve ever known is survival. My bodily needs were met while my soul starved.” I have never hated my home more than in this moment. And, yet, despite it all I still love it. It’s still home. “I wonder if the first hunters laid the curse out of spite,” I softly wonder aloud. “After the Fade was formed, our world became so small and we were so cut off from all the wonder here. We had nothing.”
Ruvan is silent for long enough that I end up looking his way. He stares beyond the horizon, brows knitted slightly.
“Or they laid the curse out of hatred for what King Solos might have done to those early humans during the discovery of blood lore. The museum paints the creation of blood lore in rosy colors because it is our history. It helpedus. But it glosses over the human cost of it at the time.” Ruvan shakes his head. “Am I any better than them? I killed your master hunter in cold blood.”
“You thought he was the curse anchor.”
“I would’ve killed your brother if you hadn’t intervened.” His solemn words draw my eyes to him. The wind whispers between us but it sounds like a howling chasm. For the first time in weeks, I feel far from him. “I would’ve been no better than Solos, spilling human blood because I could—because in that moment I was the one with the power.”
“Speaking of Solos,” I begin and then pause, searching for words. I know what I must ask, and yet, am apprehensive to. Everything they’ve said about this king, the clipped words, the mention of humans…it doesn’t bode well for what I need to know. “You brought me here under the pretense of explaining to me why Solos would never work with a human.”
“I suppose I did.” He hesitates. I can feel discomfort oozing from every inch of him. I can see it in how he shifts his weight, hunching his shoulders slightly.
“Tell me; I’d rather know the whole truth than the rosy one.” I meet his eyes and hold his attention, removing any doubt for him that I am about to let the matter rest.
He sighs heavily and is silent for an abnormally long stretch of time. I shift my weight on the railing before my skin turns numb and blue. Finally, when Ruvan does speak, it’s slow and pained. “According to Jontun’s histories, the first humans that came to Tempost were a small group of travelers who arrived for the full moon festivals. They wanted to research the magic of the vampir. And they got more than they bargained for.
“Solos discovered that human blood was more potent and powerful for us than others. Perhaps because of their connection to the dryads who first made them. Perhaps from the fae rituals they were taught. A combination, likely. But they were too valuable to the vampir to simply let go after the festival. They came to us, expecting warmth and hospitality like the fae…then never saw their homes again.”
“They became captives?”
Ruvan gives a slight nod. “The majority of the vampir didn’t know what was happening at the time. Even Jontun’s writings from the castle on Solos’s actions are brief. He sheltered his people from the brunt of his crimes.”
“What do those writings say?” My stomach is already churning, but I ask anyway. I have to know. I can’t let the matter rest.
“The human’s blood was used to uncover the blood lore and strengthen the vampir. Toward the end, a few were lost to the experimentation of strengthening the body.” He hangs his head. “Those notes were only found much later…but, even if most vampir didn’t know the full scope of what was happening, it doesn’t excuse it. Our strength was paid for with the lives of innocents.”
I stare back out over the city, letting the words sink into me. All these towering buildings and their splendor were built with the power of the blood lore fueling the vampir. Their beauty is tarnished some by an unforgiveable history.
“When did it end?” I ask.
“Just before the curse was laid. After the deaths, the remaining humans were led away by one of their own…ultimately cut off on the other side of the Fade. Solos couldn’t cross with his armies to retrieve them. When he tried to send a search party over, the humans fought.”
“The first hunters,” I realize. That group of humans, fleeing horrors, were the founders of Hunter’s Hamlet. Our history from the beginning has been steeped in blood and hatred for the vampir. “That’s why you thought the curse anchor was across the Fade, and why the hunters were the ones to lay it.”
“I can’t say we didn’t deserve the curse.” His admission startles me. The curse has always been talked about as the most horrible thing to happen to the vampir. But the true history is far more complicated. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for the actions of my forefathers, but I am sorry for them. And once the curse is lifted and the power of the vampir is restored in full Iwillmake every attempt at amends to the people of Hunter’s Hamlet.”
I’m silent. The wintry air of Tempost puts my thoughts on ice. I search, deep within me, for the red-hot rage I once felt toward the vampir and find nothing. It’s cooled and hardened into a firmer resolve—into the woman I’m working on becoming. Even in the face of these revelations, I still don’t hate these people. The curse was laid three thousand years ago. One hundred years before Ruvan himself was even born.
Ruvan goes to move away. I grab his hand and his cheek, guiding his eyes back to mine.
“I’m going to hold you to it, you know,” I say softly, firmly.
“Do you hate me?” he whispers, eyes shining.
“Hate youagain?” I grin faintly. He huffs in amusement. It’s the closest we can get to levity right now. “You weren’t the one to lay the curse. I don’t blame you for it and I don’t blame you for wanting to save your people. This curse, justified or not when it was made, is hurting all of us now. I believe the founders of the hamlet would’ve wanted it to end if they’d known their own people would be harmed and forever linked to the vampir. We have to move forward.”
Ruvan stares at me as if I am the source of the moon and stars. His lips part slightly, his face relaxing, and for a brief second, I think he is about to weep. But then, laughter.
“May I kiss you?” he asks. Given our actions around each other, I’m surprised he feels the need to ask. And yet, after our current discussion, I appreciate it—and him for it—all the more.
“You may.”
He pulls me to him, kissing me firmly but gently and, for a brief moment, the world pauses.
There’s nothing particularly sensual about the kiss. Perhaps it’s the lack of lust that makes it all the sweeter. This expression of pure joy and acceptance with someone I’ve come to know and care for. Exploring the museum today was possibly one of the best days of my life and this man—not the vampir lord or his forefathers—was the one to give it to me.
I intend to tell him so as we lean away, but the clouds shift in the distance. A beam of sunlight strikes us, turning everything golden. It would be picturesque, if not for Ruvan’s wince.
