Chapter 16: The North(part 2)
Mid-Winter, 1080, Suzdal
Felix leaned against a tree, watching his "friends" chatter around the fire, laughing as if they hadn't lost a companion just days before. Turning off emotions seemed like an easy escape to him, but Felix had always chosen to confront his struggles, especially as the pseudo-leader of this ragtag group who'd followed him north from Athens.
He clenched his fists as they drained the last drops out of the flask of blood that they had kept from a merchant they'd ran into a few days prior. If he wasn't careful, they'd consume every resource they could get their hands on. Hunger was the one feeling even the most detached of them still held onto.
A calm voice interrupted. "Looks like I'm late to the party."
Felix turned sharply, his eyes narrowing at the sight of a stranger—a young man, maybe twenty-one, with olive-toned skin and dressed as a local lord. A woman stood beside him, her trembling form mute with either fear or cold.
The stranger gave an easy smile, nodding toward the group. "Isaac," he said, gesturing with a slight bow. "I come bearing a gift."
Felix frowned, not entirely sure he'd understood. The accent was unusual, a blend of sounds that didn't quite fit any he recognized. He caught fragments but not much else. From the other side of the fire, Rene, a Frenchman who had joined them along their travels, seemed to catch a few words, his brows furrowing in mild understanding.
Sensing their confusion, Isaac turned to the woman. Realizing his intent, her eyes widened, and she drew a breath to scream. Swiftly, Isaac moved his hand to cover her mouth, his grip firm but controlled.
Her muffled cries were barely audible as he leaned in and bit into her neck with practiced precision. She struggled briefly, her eyes filled with a mix of terror and fury, but his hold was unyielding. After a moment, he released her, blood trailing down her neck.
Her attempted screams had dwindled to faint whimpers. Isaac gently pushed her forward toward the group. Isaac had come across this trick by accident along his many years of feeding. If he pierced a certain spot right under the jaw, the vocal cords would stop working, rendering his prey speechless, literally.
"Blood," Isaac said, gesturing toward her for emphasis. "For you."
Felix's caution shifted slightly to intrigue. They'd found another of their kind, even if the words were difficult to piece together.
"Your offer is...unexpected," He responded in Latin, his tone careful, as if testing common ground. watching for Isaac's reaction.
Isaac inclined his head, understanding just enough through his tone. They didn't need to share a language to make a temporary alliance, and he let a slight smile tug at his lips as he motioned for them to enjoy the gift.
Isaac spent the night with the vampires, keeping his demeanor friendly and unthreatening, even raising a toast with them to ease any lingering tension. He learned their names and origins, as well as some of the group's dynamics.
The woman he'd brought as a gift proved a fitting gesture; it established a bond and helped him slip seamlessly into their circle. They didn't seem too aware of such obvious schemes, but well, TV wont be invented for around 850 years...
As dawn approached, he led them to a modest house in the town, one he knew would be empty as it used to belonged to one of his previous 'dinners' and he happened to know the house hasn't been claimed by another, as he himself took it as his own property. The vampires followed, their movements easy and unguarded, and as they entered, they made themselves comfortable.
Settling them in, Isaac kept his expression calm as he leaned against the hearth. "Stay here for now. Don't forget the deal, this place is safe, so just don't draw attention, and don't leave the house. In the meantime," he paused, casting a casual glance around, "I'll make arrangements to help us… understand each other better."
Rene, a Frenchman, gave a rough explanation of what Isaac said while Felix nodded. Rene was partly of Norman descent and had picked up a bit of Norse in France. Although the Normans had largely adopted French, some still clung to elements of their older tongue, allowing Rene to learn a handful of commonly used Norse words that had slipped into the French they spoke.
Though his Norse was limited, this basic knowledge helped him understand some of what Isaac said, especially once Isaac switched from East Slavic to true Norse later that night. The two languages shared certain similarities, but Norse proved far easier for Rene to follow.
After that, Isaac left the group and returned to his routine, until he came across Meixing. As the sun came to the middle of the sky, she met him in a quiet corner of the castle, her brow furrowing as he explained the situation.
"There are five of them, four from Athens one French and with no common language between us," Isaac murmured, crossing his arms thoughtfully. "We're piecing things together, but they're not fluent enough in anything I can speak."
Meixing's eyes narrowed slightly. "If they speak Latin, perhaps we could bring someone in who can help—someone who can bridge the language gap."
"A translator?" he asked, a brow raised.
She nodded. "The local church will have clerics with Latin, and if they believe it's a matter of… urgency, they'd be inclined to help. Mention the demons, perhaps—they won't be able to resist."
"We tell them we've caught 'demons' and need assistance?" Isaac chuckled at her suggestion.
"Exactly," she replied, a glint in her eye. "Once the cleric's there, you can… convince him to stay quiet and act as a translator, for however long you need."
"I love the way you think." Isaac let out a smile, as he leaned in to kiss her lightly "Can you contact the church, I kind of have my hands full with practice."
"Sure," Meixing smiled "but your excuses could use some work, a lot of it."
"What would I do without you?" He returned the smile, turning back towards the main hall where he will continue his studies for the day.
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Isaac returned to the house near dusk, having arranged for the cleric's arrival. But as he neared, he felt an immediate shift in the atmosphere—a heavy, metallic scent of blood filled the air. His jaw tightened. Without a word, he turned and moved swiftly through the shadows, following the scent toward the village outskirts, a grim urgency in his steps.
Rounding a corner, he found them.
In a narrow alley, three of the vampires he'd told to stay hidden were standing over a blood-stained scene, they were laughing between themselves as they shared a near dead young woman who was probably the last of the family that was now the remains strewn around them like discarded scraps. They were quite loud, feeding carelessly, each lost to their own hunger as if entirely oblivious to the chaos.
Isaac didn't waste time on words. He stepped forward with silent precision, his gaze cold. The first vampire didn't even sense him before his hand plunged into its chest, tearing out the heart in a single, brutal motion. Before the second could register the danger, Isaac's hand flashed as if it was a blade, severing the head cleanly from its body.
The last—a woman—stared at him in horror, frozen by the suddenness of it all. Before she could react, or let go of the girl's shoulders, Isaac closed the distance, his hand clamping down on her neck, a crank like sound followed as her struggles ceased. She went limp, her body slumping under his hold.
He threw the now unconscious vampire over his shoulder and turned to the girl, she was quite beautiful, with long ash-blonde hair and an extremely pale complexion, she couldn't be more than eighteen, probably even younger.
As he looked at her, he was unexpectedly reminded of one of the first person he'd killed in this world—intentionally, that is. Possibly the only innocent one. He had made a mistake back then, thinking rationally but without clarity, his need for a systematic approach overtaking his moral sense in a moment of confusion and overwhelm.
Though he wasn't certain why she reminded him of her, given they looked nothing alike, he found himself pausing, internally debating his next move. After a few moments, he made his decision. Watching his right hand as his nails extended into claws, he let them pierce his own palm, drawing blood. He pressed the wound to her lips, allowing her to drink before lifting her onto his shoulder alongside the other.
'I'm so going to regret this.' Isaac thought with conviction, and disappeared in a blur, reappearing in the dungeon beneath the cabin where he held all his... personal prisoners. At the entrance, he handed the vampire off to one of the current werewolf guards, who was still surprised by Isaac's sudden appearance. his tone controlled yet unmistakably sharp.
"Lock her up and administer vervain," he commanded. "She's not to be neared after that, until I say otherwise."
With the prisoner secured, Isaac made his way back to the 'normal' part of the house where he left the girl on a bed, one that has never really been slept in. He could hear she still had a pulse, but it was getting weaker by the minute. She had lost way too much blood.
"I hope you make it, but otherwise, we will know by tomorrow. That's all I can do for you now." He spoke to her and than turned to the second guard. "If she wakes up, calm her down, if you can't and she tries to leave, put her in one of the cells, I'll deal with it when I'm back."
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Returning to the house where Felix waited, Isaac found the cleric nearby, holding a book and a wooden cross. Isaac approached with a calm face, but his usual courteous smile was absent. The events weighed on him, making him question his judgment...
"Isaac Volkodar," he said, bowing slightly to the cleric. "Just to be sure, do you know Latin?"
{Volkodar means wolf gifted, it's a title.}
Moments later, Isaac entered the house, the priest trailing close behind. The fire's glow cast flickering shadows on the walls, its light catching on the polished wood and stone. Felix regarded the newcomer with a hint of suspicion, his eyes darting briefly to the priest at Isaac's side.
The firelight sharpened Isaac's features, highlighting the cold edge now replacing his usual calmness. No polite smile, no friendly gestures. His gaze was fixed on Felix and the female vampire beside him—Hela. Isaac knew she and Felix were the oldest of the group, and that she always stayed close to him.
"Your companions decided to ignore my hospitality," Isaac began, his tone clipped and cold. The cleric, voice shaking, translated. "I told them to stay put, but instead they went on a blood-soaked rampage through the village."
Felix stiffened slightly at the words. "They weren't under orders, this was—"
"What is he saying?" Isaac cut him off, turning to the cleric. The priest, now trembling, repeated Felix's words softly. Despite the fear coursing through him, something about Isaac's bearing—his quiet confidence—made the cleric feel oddly safe with him even with the vampires there.
"Orders?" Isaac's voice was quiet, dangerous. "They enjoyed my shelter and threw it back in my face."
Hela's perpetual smirk began to falter. Isaac didn't raise his voice, but the meaning was impossible to miss.
"They made a choice," Isaac continued, eyes narrowing, "and I responded in kind. The three of them are dust."
The cleric paled, his voice faltering as he conveyed Isaac's words. Hela's smirk vanished completely, and Felix's jaw tightened.
"So, what now?" Felix asked, trying to sound composed but failing to hide his unease.
Isaac met his gaze, unwavering. "Now we do things differently."
The silence that followed was heavy. Felix glanced at Hela, realizing fully that they stood in Isaac's domain, not their own.
"And what exactly do you mean by that?" Felix pressed, keeping his tone cautious.
Isaac took a step closer, his voice measured but razor-sharp. "I offered you safety, shelter, and even sustenance. All I asked for was simple respect. What they did was anything but respectful."
Felix tried to keep his expression neutral, but Isaac caught the uncertainty flickering in his eyes. Hela, silent until now, finally spoke.
"What do you suggest than, Isaac?" she asked, trying to sound steady.
Isaac looked at the cleric, who seemed as if he'd been dropped into a den of monsters. "Translate this carefully," Isaac instructed, then addressed the vampires: "You have two options. Stay and follow my rules—no more pointless killings, no more needless noise—and I'll ensure you have blood. Or you leave and never return."
Felix raised an eyebrow, he could tell that Isaac wasn't happy, but his confidence seemed a bit excessive. "Those three were much younger and inexperienced, why should we listen to you?"
Isaac regarded Felix for a long moment, as if weighing his character. Then, in an instant, Isaac was behind Hela, his hand clamped around her throat. His movements were clear as precise, most other vampires would find it impossible to move the way he did at that speed.
His claws pricked her skin, and though she tried to struggle, his strength was absolute. Not a single step or flinch from Isaac, as if it cost him no effort at all. At that moment, Felix knew, that the three clearly hadn't died for no reason.
"Believe me," Isaac said softly, the threat crystal clear even without translation, "if I want you dead, you will be."
Felix looked at Hela who was pale as paper and coughed lightly, they than exchanged a glance. The weight of the ultimatum was unmistakable. They now saw Isaac's strength firsthand, as well as his restraint.
He narrowed his eyes, catching something in Isaac's word and actions. "Why not just make us leave? You seem to want us to stay, why?"
Isaac allowed himself a brief, thin smile. "Stay, and you'll have access to everything I offer—shelter, resources, stability. You'll be under my protection as long as you respect this place. All I ask is your help in keeping control here, in case others arrive." He paused, letting the meaning settle.
Felix held Isaac's gaze, contemplating his options. They had come north to make life easier, to avoid the sun more, as the nights here were longer. But they had so far stopped twice, in one they lost a friend while on patrol and they didn't even know how. On the other, now, three of them died. But this time, he was also given another option, to stop running.
He was never a fan of the vampire life-style, this was a solution to it, it might seem unnecessarily dangerous, but he had heard a bit about Isaac's unusual code: taking only guilty blood and he had also seen his reaction to this event. It was enough to tip the balance towards trusting Isaac's character, as he finally gave a slow nod.
"Fine," he said, his voice carrying a hint of resolve. Glancing at Hela, her face was still slightly pale, but as she knew she was no longer in danger, the smirk quickly returned to her face as she let out a nod. "We stay, for now."
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