#part:no longer human

[knightedwriter]

No Longer Human

To celebrate reaching 1,500 followers, I decided to do a mini series of the events following Alderon’s turning. This is the first part in what will probably turn out to be a long series, knowing how I write. However, it might help to read what I consider the prologue. This ask I did is also relatively important, though not necessary to read in the long run. I hope you enjoy!

[@kai-hogan​, @alittleyellowdinosaur I believe the both of you shouted that I should do this? Also tagging @lux-scriptum, @incandescent-creativity, @kclenhartnovels, @theprissythumbelina, @polapipo, @gingerly-writing bc I think you all would be interested. If you’d like to be added to the list, please let me know. If you want to be taken off, that’s alright too! I can also change which blog of yours I tag, if anyone wants me to.]

“Focus.”

“I am.”

“Then do better.”

Alderon gritted his teeth, jaw cracking with the pressure. Easing up a little, he closed his eyes and breathed in again.

The world burst to life around him: A tangle of scents, wild, colorful, and much too numerous to even begin straightening out. Alderon’s brow furrowed as he tried to focus in on just one, but it was like untangling a knot made up of thousands of different strands, all while someone kept adding and rearranging the strands each second.

Just as the others faded into the background, a new scent assaulted his senses, taking his attention away from the one he’d selected. The scrape of bone on bone—his teeth rubbing together—demanded his attention as well, the sound much more detailed than he was used to: The wet slip of his saliva as his teeth moved, the creaking of his jaw, the twanging vibration of his muscles, even. He never knew he made so much noise.

“Stop, stop, stop.”

Alderon opened his eyes and, realizing how tight his face had gotten, rubbed at his cheeks. “I do not understand how to do this.”

“Clearly,” Eliura said, eyes flickering to scarlet and then back to their startling blue. “You don’t make a good vampire.”

“Well excuse me,” Alderon snapped. “If I had a choice in the matter I wouldn’t be one.”

“Don’t fucking sass me. I said that to make a point.” She stepped forward, her fur-covered cloak swishing with the movement. “You think,” she tapped the top of his head despite having to stand on tiptoe to get there, “too much. It holds you back.”

“What, so I just stop thinking? Why didn’t I think of that?”

“You keep sassing me and I’m gonna rip your arms off and make you sit on them. Just shut up and listen. That’s what apprentices are supposed to do.”

Alderon resisted the urge to say that he didn’t ask to be her apprentice. He had no doubt her threat was real, and he really didn’t want to find out how fast his arms regenerated anytime soon.

“You don’t think yourself into tracking a scent,” Eliura continued, circling him. “You let it happen.”

“Helpful,” Alderon gritted out.

“Get used to it. This isn’t about memorizing a set of steps or about what you knew before. This is completely new. You’ll have to learn as a babe learns: by shitting yourself along the way.”

Lovely. Eliura’s vulgarity never ceased to amaze him. Charmeine had been the same way, always—

Alderon sobered a bit, back itching as he looked away. His throat closed, so he couldn’t reply. Just as well, given that Eliura was already irritated with him.

Eliura sighed. “Take a break. Clear your head.”

Relieved, Alderon walked over to nearest tree and sat at its base. He tried to lean against the trunk, but the slight pressure made his back sting, so he crossed his legs and bent forward instead.

“That cut still bothering you?” Eliura asked. She sat against an oak across from him, arms crossed, head back, and eyes closed. Alderon wondered how she even knew he’d readjusted because of his back.

He grunted, running a hand through his hair. The wound had barely healed, despite a full week of vampirism. Eliura had explained that it probably never would—at least not as it should. It would become a scar, if anything. Alderon was learning that such an “imperfection” was not unheard of in vampires, depending on how they turned. Given that his turning was particularly difficult—he shuddered to remember those feverish three days—he was lucky the scar was healing at all.

“You need more blood.”

“I don’t,” Alderon said swiftly. When Eliura cracked open an eye to glare at him, he hurried on, “I am not hungry. Besides, you said it would take a long time to heal completely.”

Eliura sniffed, obviously unconvinced. “Fine then. Take your shirt off.”

“What?”

“I’m going to check it. The least we can do is keep changing out those bandages.”

Alderon hesitated a moment longer before pulling off his shirt. His cheeks burned, and he kept his gaze fixed on the grass as Eluria stepped around him. She peeled back the bandages one by one, her touch gentle. It still stung. Alderon flinched as she pulled off the last of it; the dried blood had glued the cloth to his back, and ripping it away was like ripping off a piece of his skin.

Eliura pulled in a breath and let it out slow. “Still smells like silver.”

“Silver?”

“From the blade. It had to have been silver.”

“Oh,” Alderon murmured, thinking of a sword glinting in torchlight. He pushed the memory back. “Is that why it hurts so much?”

“No,” Eliura said dryly as she applied something sticky to his wound. “It hurts because it’s not healed.”

For once, Alderon didn’t have the fight to snap back. “Will it ever stop?”

“Hurting? Yes. It’ll always be sensitive, though.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s human flesh on a vampire body.”

“What?” Alderon said, twisting to look at her. “How do you know that?”

“It’s not healing the way it’s supposed to. I’ve seen it before. Some wounds are too deep for the transformation to change.” She started to wrap him up again. “Blood would help, you know.”

Alderon’s hands tightened into fists.

“You can’t avoid it forever.”

“I will not be a murderer.”

Eluria yanked on the bandages and Alderon yelped. “Then you will die! How many fucking times do I have to tell you? This is your life now. The sooner you get used to it, the better.”

“I did not ask for this.”

“Well too damn bad!” Eliura growled. She stalked around to stand in front of him, lips pulled back to show her fangs. “When I found you, you told me you didn’t want to die. This is how you live. You can’t go back. Just accept it.”

Alderon drew his knees to his chest and looked away. He hated how his lips trembled.

Eliura ran a hand down her face. “I took you on to teach you how to survive. The world won’t be kind to you. You need to let these…human morals go, or you’ll be ground into the dust.”

“I am human. I was. I am not going to just forget that.” Alderon glanced up at her, searching her face for some sort of understanding. “Why must I kill? Can’t I just—”

“What? Bite them and only take a little? You think people will just lay down and let you do that? You’ll leave a trail leading straight to you.”

“As if bodies do not leave a trail.”

“At least dead people don’t talk. Bodies don’t clue hunters in to what you look like, or which way you went.” Eliura crouched down next to him. There was nothing gentle in her eyes as she considered him, though she did lower her voice. “Humans will take your kindness and shit all over it the first chance they get. You should know this. You’ve seen it firsthand.”

“Don’t,” Alderon breathed, clutching harder at his knees.

Eliura paused, head cocked. "You’re young. I’m giving you an easy way to learn this. Better take it before you learn the hard way.” When Alderon didn’t reply, Eliura stood and walked away without another word, her bright red hair flicking almost dismissively at him.

Alderon dug his fingers into his knees, trying to ignore the incessant rumbling in his stomach. He was sure Eliura could hear it, too. Not that he cared. She may have convinced him to drink from the bodies she’d brought him after he’d turned, but that didn’t mean her way of life was the only way.

He wished Charmeine were with him. She’d make him smile and give him direction; she’d work with him. Instead he got saddled with a centuries-old vampire who’d long since forgotten what it meant to be human. What it meant to be new to this.

His heart ached as thoughts of Charmeine turned to the night he’d left his home for good. Luckily, Eliura’s voice cut through the memories.

“Rest time’s over. Let’s get back to it.”