2. Thinking Back

I sat down with my bag of blood, leaning against my small wooden door. It was just a little room that was set aside for me here at headquarters. I wasn’t part of a couple and according to leadership a small room was all I needed. Not that it mattered much to me, I was hardly here. I was almost always in the field. Apparently being the brightest of my generation meant I was to be of use to the Vanguard.

I had books piled up all over the room to the point there was almost no floor space. I had a single bed and a very small wardrobe to hold my clothes, which consisted of two outfits. I wondered if at one time this room was in fact a storage closet. It was small enough to be. I took a sip of the blood feeling my body soak it up. Aiden always just called me a vampire as did everyone else within Vanguard. Only the purist saw me as third generation Dahmir, well those who fought for the Order.

Dahmir, it was derogatory, but it was better than what I was called in school by those same purists that I was now fighting against. There had been a plethora of names I was called. I snorted thinking about it, I sure showed them, didn’t I? Best student every year, more powerful than most, with my ancient gift of weather control. Aiden was right, this whole third generation, second generation, Dahmir shit was crap.

We all drank blood, we all stayed young for centuries, we all had heightened senses and superior strength to humans, and we all had some form of a gift even if it was just a little bit of one. And once we were old enough, we would die, much like the humans. Granted we would still look young, and we would be centuries old, but we would all eventually die. So why was this war happening? Because it all came down to one individual wanting power and using people’s prejudice to achieve his goal.

I finished up the last of my blood and tossed the bag in my trash bin. I knew I would have to go back to the dilapidated cathedral at some point, only this time I would be alone. No Wes or Henry. But I still had no idea what the hell I was looking for? This had been all my idea, and I didn’t even know what the thing was I was searching for. I had gone back to Darkwood, the school for our kind, the first year after the war started. I went straight to the library. Darkwood had the largest archives on our kind there and I needed access to it once things really started to fall apart.

But upon my arrival I found that the professors, I assumed, made it cave in. Burying the information that could potentially win the war and stop Malachar.  They probably didn’t want Malachar to have access to it, or someone who was part of the order. The cave in was dramatic and had taken just about three years for me to completely unbury it. With the war raging and me having an invaluable gift of weather and being so bright I was constantly fighting battles for Vanguard. I didn’t have time to devote to jumping into Darkwood and bringing back books.

None of the leadership would send anyone to help me either, so it had taken years to get all the books back here. Varin ended up being pissed having to find a space to house a whole library. The hospital we had overtaken for headquarters was filled with people, so they moved the books to a small hospital building that I guess used to be referred to as the Annex.

But with all the books and constant late night reading sessions I had discovered a lot about blood magic, and we all knew that is how Malachar had rose to such power. He was using something ancient and evil. Something powerful, but in all of that some of his power was hidden by him to use if he needed it. If I could get all his hidden power, I thought we could weaken him enough to kill. Problem was it could be anything, an animal or an object. I had no idea the books just spoke of it briefly.

But I had seen him survive a stake to the heart. The sure thing that would kill our kind and he lived through it. It was years ago that I had seen him in person, just at the beginning of the war. At that time the man with the stone mask was not around, but Malachar was, and he did not die. There were ways to kill us or weaken our species but a stake to the heart was always a death sentence and he lived. That is when I knew it was blood magic, that had been outlawed a long time ago in our society.

I was sure that he had hid one of whatever this power thing was in that cathedral. It was where he started this war. It was the first massacre of the humans. Him and his Order walked in. It had been small at the time, or so I was told, his numbers now were staggering. It seemed like he had almost every purist family in the whole world fighting for him.  Very few of those pure bloodlines fought with Vanguard.

Malachar and his Order had walked right into the Sunday Mass and bolted the doors of the cathedral and then proceeded to gorge themselves on blood until everyone was drained and blood coated the floor. Malachar exposed our existence to the humans that day and thus the war unfolded. All the humans sided with Vanguard and fought with us. It benefitted both our species. They donated blood and we helped them fight the Order. They didn’t want to be cattle.

I didn’t know when I would return to the Cathedral? It would have to be soon. I was positive Malachar left power there it was an important place, and blood magic had to be performed with lots of blood. It wasn’t just a drop, and that place was seeped in it. I sighed leaning my head back against the door. I was tired and wanted all this stuff to end. I was tired of fighting, I often wondered if the war ever did end, would I even be a semblance of the girl I was when I attended Darkwood. I doubted it.

The war broke out when I was 19 my sixth year at Darkwood. I had one year left and Malachar attacked that fucking church and I, as well as everyone else, was forced to pick sides. Those who didn’t were all dead now. Hunted down by Malachar and his Order. No, it was pick a side and fight. If we lost, I would be killed for being a third generation Dhamir and the humans would be cattle, for consumption. Wasn’t much of an option, I preferred to live, and I liked humans, seeing as my parents were that species.

That was what being third generation was. Human parents and one of my great grandparents had to have been a vampire. But I had never met any of my biological family. I was adopted so my parents were quite surprised that I was what I was. I turned 13 and new sharp teeth ripped from my gums and all I could think about was my parents' necks. I received a letter the day after my birthday, and it all fell into place after that. I had been fortunate to have good parents who accepted me and didn’t force me out. Apparently, that would happen to some.

My face pinched up, thinking of my parents. They were dead now. The war took them as did it many people. I missed them, I wondered if they would like me now knowing I was a killer and a ruthless one at that. No, I knew they would be disappointed. They abhorred violence. They were kind people and never thought I was bad for needing blood but asked that I was humane about it. Obviously, I didn’t need to kill people for it and with that knowledge they were happy and content with what I was. But I had killed more people than I could count at this point.

Humans and Vampires alike. Yep, they would hate what I had become, I knew it. The feeling of disappoint clung to me as I pulled myself from the floor and into my single bed. I was tired and I didn’t want to dwell on how much this war was taking from me. My eyes were heavy, and I fell into restless sleep.