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It had been a quiet night in the woods surrounding the town of Krestel. There was the ambient chirp of insects and the occasional call of night birds, interspersed with the rustle of a cloaked young woman walking through the brush. It was still cold in the early Wallachian spring, but as had been the case for weeks now, Raksha found herself unbothered by the chill. She paused and breathed in the crisp air, filling dead lungs that would never need to breathe again. There had been a light rain earlier in the evening, and the forest was still fresh with the scent of petrichor. There were nuances to it that she’d never noticed when she was alive. Clean water, rich soil, decaying plants, the musky hint of deer and rabbits that had passed by. Everything smelled different now, sharper and stronger than they ever had in life. Everything was different now.
Letting out her breath, Raksha continued her search for shelter materials. She’d been alone with her thoughts longer than she ever had when she was alive. In her 26 years of life, she’d never gone more than a week without talking to someone. Even when her parents were busy with work, or when she needed to tend to the sheep for long hours, there had always been her sister, or her friends, or some other townsfolk who would eventually stop by.
Raksha had never been a people person. She’d never minded that time to herself, had usually enjoyed it as a welcome reprieve from socializing, but this was something else entirely. Now, the most she could do was sneak to the edge of town and watch the people finishing their errands or closing their shops for the night. Now, she had to catch glimpses of her mother crying as she held the quilt they had made together, or hide from her sharp-eyed little sister when the girl looked out over the hills like she expected Raksha to come walking over them at any moment.
Raksha’s eyes burned, and she growled as the back of her hand came back streaked with crimson when she reached up to swipe at the tears. Blood, because that’s what her life now revolved around. The Beast, that awful, omnipresent new companion of hers, stirred at the scent, and Raksha hated herself a little more as her tongue darted out to lick the blood off her hand. She was hungry, as she had been for months, but it was manageable for now. She had found some rabbits yesterday, and that would have to be good enough. The Beast rumbled in displeasure at that, but she shoved it away. She had to learn quickly how to get good at doing that. It was why she didn’t let herself get too close to town when she decided to torture herself with some people-watching.
She supposed she’d been “lucky” on her first night, in that regard–that she’d been deep in the forest rather than the middle of town when she awoke feral and ravenous. She had been hungrier than she had been the winter her family nearly starved after a blight had killed most of the village’s crops. They had only survived because Raksha and her father were skilled hunters who knew where the deer and rabbits hid from the cold. This time, she had come out of that all-consuming hunger covered in the blood of the deer herd she had torn apart in her frenzy. Her nails had been elongated into razor-sharp claws, her ears long and furred like a wolf’s. Her ears eventually went back to normal, though she found she could control summoning those claws if she focused. The blood had taken longer to get out of her clothes. But she had been lucky, because those first casualties had only been deer instead of the townsfolk.
Raksha’s recollection of her last night alive was hazy at best. One moment she was out checking traps on a perfectly mundane late fall evening, and the next there was a thunderous growl and glowing red eyes staring at her from the shadows. Who knows how long it had been stalking her through the moonlit trees, a silent, deadly predator watching its oblivious prey. She now knew what it was, though she hadn’t been able to tell in the moment. It had been a vampire, a creature of the night against which she had never stood a chance.
She thinks she fought back. She hoped she did. She vaguely remembers aiming her bow at the snarling thing, grabbing her knife when it tackled her to the ground. It’s little comfort, but it has to count for something. The worst part is that the thing she does remember from those last moments is how good it felt. As her life drained away at the claws and fangs of some predator in the woods, all she could think about was the pleasure. She hated herself a little for that, too. She didn’t like thinking about it.
Raksha leaned down to pick up some fallen leafy branches, adding them to the rest of the materials tucked under her arm. She’d have to make some cordage to start weaving baskets now that the grasses and trees were growing again, but new sunblock panels for her shelter took precedence. She hadn’t planned on hunting tonight, so she could probably get most of the panel completed.
Having come to an area where the trees thinned, Raksha looked up between the branches to gauge the moon’s position in the sky. And what a sky it was! She could see in the dark now, could make her eyes glow red just like the monster that murdered her, but this was something else entirely. The sky was not black, but rather rich shades of deep blues, purple, and greens that swirled together like expensive oil paints scattered with sparkling gemstones. She had spent long hours simply gazing up at it, counting constellations and watching the occasional streak of a shooting star. It was truly a beautiful sight. She could never experience sunlight again, could never feel its pleasant warmth on her skin or see the vibrant colors of the world, but at least she had this.
Her reverie was interrupted by the faintest rustle of leaves behind her. She jerked around, scanning her surroundings for the source. It only took a few moments to notice the fluffy brown shape of a tawny owl on a nearby branch. The very familiar tawny owl that Raksha had been spotting for the past several nights. As it had on every other occasion, it simply sat on the branch, watching intently with a cleverness in its eyes that unnerved her.
They stared at each other for some time. It blinked at her as she watched it dubiously. When it still made no sign of moving, Raksha huffed and drew herself up to stand a little straighter. She found herself baffled by this strange bird that seemed to be following her. Most animals were instinctually terrified of her, or were skittish at the very least, yet this owl had shown up for at least three nights. Did it think her an unwanted guest in its territory? Was it staying nearby to try scavenging her hunts?
In what was certainly a sign she must really be going mad, she called up to the owl, “Hello? Can I help you, or are you just going to keep staring at me?”
To her great surprise, the owl leaned forward at the words, tilting its head. It hooted once, then launched itself off its perch and flew out into the trees. For a moment, Raksha had the absurd notion that she was meant to follow it, but a lifetime of tales warning people not to follow strangely-acting wildlife trying to lead you into the forest made her decide against it. She watched the direction it had flown and shook her head, dragging her fingers through her tangled brown hair. It is just an owl, she told herself. Just a weird, too-bold owl that you are vastly overestimating.
Putting the encounter out of her mind, Raksha stalked back to her shelter to do what she was actually supposed to do that night. She had changed the shelter’s location several times, never quite happy with it, but this iteration had lasted the longest. It was a small cave in the side of a hill deep within the forest, half of the opening framed by the thick roots of a nearby tree. It was likely the den of some animal, though it had long since been abandoned by the time Raksha found it. After clearing it out and padding the ground with some moss, the interior could almost be called cozy, albeit small.
The opening of the cave was covered by panels woven out of leaves and branches, an old hunting trick that served both as camouflage and protection from the sun. Raksha set down her bundle of materials, pulling out a knife to strip and split the branches. A windstorm had blown away one of the panels, and she needed to add some fresh foliage to one of the older ones.
About an hour of work later, Raksha had just finished weaving in one of the last branches when a hoot signaled that the owl had returned once again. She put the panel to the side and glared up at the small brown bird. “You again? I don’t have any food for you!”
The owl hooted again, louder this time. Raksha started to shoot back another retort, but froze when she caught the sound of approaching footsteps. Eyes wide, she grabbed the panel and darted behind a large tree. She held perfectly still, just barely peeking around the trunk. It hadn’t sounded like the steps of an animal. Who in the world would be out this far into the forest at this hour?
A few moments later, a cloaked figure strode into view. They paused in front of her shelter’s entrance, looking down at the remnants of the panel materials Raksha had left strewn across the forest floor. The stranger whistled, holding up an arm as the owl flew down to land on it. They leaned in and seemed to whisper something to the bird, the words too low to make out even as Raksha strained her ears to listen. The owl hooted and looked directly at Raksha, and she pulled back behind the tree just as the stranger looked over as well.
Just as her thoughts started racing with escape plans, the stranger called out to her, “Hail, stranger! There is no need to hide; I wish you no harm.” The voice is feminine, calm, and confident. The accent was hard to place, but it definitely wasn’t local. It was the first time Raksha had been spoken to in months, and it shocked her so greatly that she moved to get a closer look at the newcomer.
The woman was standing about 4 meters away, clad in simple, dark traveler’s clothing. She pulled back the hood of her cloak when she spotted Raksha. She looked to be in her late 30s, with lightly tanned skin and wavy brown hair decorated with braids and beads. Her face had the telltale lines that spoke of a life spent weathering hardships. A dagger was sheathed on her belt, but she looked otherwise unarmed. The woman smiled, and Raksha startled when she saw the flash of fangs in the moonlight.
Vampire, Raksha realized, hackles bristling. Could this be the one that attacked her? Was she returning to finish the job? A growl rose in the back of her throat, baring her own fangs a little. “You…you’re a...”
“A vampire?” The stranger said, unbothered by Raksha’s hostility. “Indeed. I seem to be in good company in that regard.”
Raksha stepped out from behind the tree, eyes narrowed. This woman certainly didn’t seem like the snarling beast she remembered, but she hadn’t exactly gotten a good look at them.
The woman looked pleased. “Well met! How many winters?”
Raksha blinked, the question catching her off guard. “Uh… what?”
The stranger’s head tilted ever so slightly, and Raksha got the distinct impression she’d just failed some test. “Ah, I see. What I mean is, how long has it been since you became this way? Since you woke up cold and unbreathing, the hunger ever clawing at your belly?”
“It’s been… a little over four months? It was the end of November.”
The woman’s eyebrows rose, seeming to watch Raksha with a little more interest than before. “Oh? And what did you think of your first winter?”
Unsure what to make of the encounter, Raksha hesitantly answered, “Well, it took some time to find enough animals, but I know these woods. There was more time to hunt because of the longer nights. I made shelters to hide from the sun. Winter survival is more straightforward when you don’t need to worry about freezing to death.”
The woman made an amused sound that was something between a laugh and a growl. “That is one way to look at it. I have seen fledglings older than you who were in substantially worse positions. To be turned right before the winter as well… You seem to be doing pretty well for yourself, all things considered.”
A breeze swept through the woods then, the wind having changed to blow in Raksha’s direction. Instinctively sniffing the air, she had a realization that made some of the tension leave her: this woman’s scent was entirely new, earthy with a hint of herbs and wildflowers.
“You don’t smell familiar. You’re not the one who did this to me?” she asked.
“Certainly not; I have not sired in decades.” She smiles again. “Clever girl, using your nose. If you are wondering how I found you, I was passing through when Mircea noticed you. My little friend has sharp eyes,” she says, nodding to the owl perched on her arm. Mircea fluffed her feathers and stood tall, like she was proud of herself. She chirped at the woman, whose eyes widened. “Oh! How rude of me. My name is Shivani Whitlock.”
“Raksha.” She paused for a moment, though her curiosity for that owl quickly got the better of her. “You can really talk to her?”
Shivani grinned in obvious delight. “Indeed. Not just her either, though it is easier because she is mine. It is an invaluable skill that many vampires overlook and underestimate. The rats and birds and dogs see many things. Who would suspect the crow on the fence to be eavesdropping, or that friendly street dog was watching who you talk to?” Shivani sighed happily, stroking Mircea’s head. “They make for wonderful conversation on the road; you would not believe the gossip animals have. So much more pleasant and straightforward than humans or vampires.”
“Can all vampires do that?” Raksha asked, a little awestruck by the prospect. She’d spent her entire life talking to the animals of the town and forest, dreaming about what they would say if they could understand her and respond.
“Technically anyone can learn it, though it comes more naturally to some clans than it does to others. There are many different bloodlines, each specializing in certain skills.” Shivani tilted her head, watching Raksha thoughtfully. “I already have a guess, but if you would humor me, what do you know of the one who turned you? What abilities have you found yourself capable of?”
Raksha stared out at the surrounding trees as her mood once again soured. “I don’t remember much. I was attacked and woke up alone. You’re the first vampire I’ve seen since.” She looked down at her hands, studying the dirt under her nails with a blank expression. “I can grow claws and see in the dark. I’m much harder to hurt than I used to be.” Considering for a moment, she added, “I had wolf ears that first night, but I’m not sure how I did that. They were gone by the next night.”
Shivani’s eyes glinted with a hint of triumph, flashing with a familiar red glow. “Ah, it sounds like I was correct in my assumption. Welcome, pup, to Clan Gangrel. The Outlanders, the Wolves, the Clan of the Beast. My own clan.”
Raksha stared. Clan of the Beast? Was that horrible voice in her head just from the type of vampire she was? “What makes you so certain I’m one of you? That I’m a… a Gangrel?”
“I have become adept at recognizing one of my own. Between the abilities you possess, gaining animal features, and the manner of your embrace, I am quite confident.”
“My embrace?” Raksha echoed.
Shivani’s nose wrinkled in apparent distaste. “How you became a vampire. Kindred, we call ourselves. I never was fond of the term; ‘Embrace’ sounds much too flowery for the reality of the act.” She hummed sympathetically. “Yours is not an uncommon story. Our clan in particular is known for sires abandoning new childr to their own devices. It is a tradition, of sorts.”
A shocked growl built in Raksha’s throat, anger flaring hot in her veins. This was just something their “clan” did? “Tradition? They do this to people and just leave?! That’s awful! That’s-”
“Cruel? Not fair?” Shivani cut her off, her pleasant tone having suddenly gone sharp. “Of course not, nothing in life is fair. You are either strong, fast, smart, or lucky enough to survive, and those who are not will die. Brutal, perhaps, but that is nature.” She flicked her hand, causing Mircea to fly off to a nearby branch. She drew herself to her full height, regarding Raksha more coolly than she had all night.
Raksha flinched at the admonishment. She took an instinctive step back, that voice in her head whining in discomfort. It hadn’t been as noticeable when the other woman had been playing nice, but now she became distinctly aware of the fact that this was a much older and more powerful vampire with the effortless dominance of someone utterly in control of a situation.
Shivani watched Raksha shrink back and sighed, the unsettling sensation of a watchful predator dissipating as quickly as it had appeared. Her eyes lost their coldness, still firm but regaining some of the gentleness from before. “You do not need to understand it all just yet. You are young, and now you have all the time in the world to figure it out.” When Raksha remained silent, she continued, “It does get easier. Like any big change it will take getting used to, but the fact that you have survived this long on your own is a good sign. Most of our fledglings do not last even the first few days. There is the spark of a survivor in you. It is what your sire saw, and why they ultimately believed you would be a worthy addition to Clan Gangrel. You have been given a second chance, so do not waste it. Take it in stride and find your way to keep fighting, just as you did in life.”
Raksha met Shivani’s eyes, glaring. “A second chance? So I’m just supposed to wander the nights alone, being hungry forevermore? No matter how many animals I hunt, it's never enough, even when I can’t stomach a drop more.”
Shivani blinked as if something had surprised her. “You have truly only eaten animals all this time?”
“What else was I supposed to do?” Raksha huffed.
“Well, color me impressed,” Shivani said with a short laugh before sobering a little. “The only way we can truly be sated is to drain a human. That last bit of life leaving is what fully silences the Beast. It is remarkable you have not yet discovered that, despite being so close to a town.”
Raksha balked in horror, stumbling back a step. “We have to... to murder to make it go away? You expected me to attack the townsfolk like some rabid monster?” she gasped, sickened at the very idea.
Shivani’s eyes hardened again. “If a creature does not find food, it will die. Would you call a wolf evil because it must kill to eat? Is an eagle monstrous for hunting rabbit kits to feed its chicks? Perhaps from the perspective of the prey, but the predator is not at fault for acting on its nature. We are simply another predator stalking the night. It is the unfortunate truth about our kind that we must kill to be at peace; no amount of lamentation will change that.”
Raksha growled softly, frustrated and at a loss. “Humans aren’t the same as animals.”
“Oh my dear,” Shivani said, clicking her tongue. “We were animals when we lived and are now more animal than ever. However, you are correct that there is a difference, at least to the Beast. Indiscriminate slaughter and disregard for human life are among the fastest ways kindred lose what precious humanity they have left. We are not mindless beasts acting solely on instinct, so long as we maintain control. We do not have to kill or even feed on humans to survive, especially if one is strong in willpower and conviction. It will not satisfy you completely, but if you are careful, you can still drink from a mortal without killing them. Kindred can go their entire existence without killing a human. It is not easy, but it is possible. We may be monsters, but that does not mean we must be monstrous.”
Shivani walked forward, reaching out to lightly touch Raksha’s shoulder. “If you are to avoid accidentally hurting people, you must learn to keep your Beast in check. You must learn to walk that delicate line between resistance and capitulation, for too much of either is dangerous. Give in to its desires too often and you risk becoming the monster it wants you to be, but fight it for too long and it will take what it wants regardless. It will be difficult, but you will find the balance with time.”
Raksha chewed her lip as Shivani pulled away, having barely managed not to flinch at the first contact she’d felt in months. “This voice in my head, this ‘Beast’... Is it something every kindred has or is it unique to Gangrel?”
“Ah, it is a part of every kindred. It manifests a little differently for each clan, though the Gangrel tend to have a closer understanding of it than most. It is a simple creature that wants only to survive, and we are nothing if not survivors.”
Raksha fell silent for a long moment, glancing back towards Krestel. Nothing if not survivors. She had lasted this long on animal blood, but what else was there to do besides survive for the sake of surviving? She could never go back to her family or friends. If the townsfolk found out, they would hunt her as an abomination to God, and even if they didn’t, they would be at risk of her losing herself and attacking someone. She couldn’t bring herself to put them in danger like that.
“There are people you care about in that town?” Shivani said, voice level and unreadable.
Raksha stiffened, her eyes snapping back to the other vampire, who stood perfectly calm and composed.
“Easy, pup. I have no interest in hurting them.” Raksha’s shoulders dropped a fraction, but Shivani held up a finger in a “wait” gesture. “I have no interest in hurting them. The same may not be true for others. There are kindred out there that are true monsters, those who will destroy everything you love as a means to control you. If you want to keep them safe, keep them secret. Keep them as far from the kindred world as you can. That which we love is precious but so very dangerous, which is why we must fight to protect it.”
Raksha’s anger slipped away into something quieter and more melancholy. “What is the point?” she asked, staring down at the woven panel, then at her shelter. God, she hated how hopeless she sounded. “We hunt and watch the world pass around us from the shadows?”
Shivani’s voice is shockingly gentle when she replies, “The point is whatever you make it. It is something you must find for yourself, not unlike the way it was in life. We must accept we are no longer human and never will be again, but now we can be so much more. Make no mistake, there are gifts that come with the challenges. This existence is an opportunity to do things that would never be possible before. You can live your life however you wish. All the things you couldn’t do in life because you lacked the time, the strength, the ability? Now you have the power to change your fate and live as you please. You can travel the lands and learn endless new stories, perfect skills, talk to animals, use your new power to protect, and to give terrible people the fate they deserve. Regardless of how you may feel about what we are, understand that it is a second chance.”
Though a part of Raksha hated to admit it, Shivani did have a point. She had spent most of her time mourning all she had lost, falling into a cycle of simply surviving another night rather than thinking about the future. “I… hadn’t considered that. There are kindred who protect humans from other kindred? From night creatures?”
Shivani nodded. “Of course. Nearly all kindred have at least a few links to humanity, mortals they care about and wish to protect. That being said, it is naive to think there are not countless monsters among humans as well. Those who abuse their power and take advantage of the vulnerable, who hurt women, children, and animals. One could argue they are even worse than us, as they do horrific things not because a Beast whispers in their ear, but because they simply want to. They take pleasure in their cruelty and think themselves untouchable.” She tilts her head, lip curling. “You need never be prey to those people again, for now you are the one who stalks the night. Now, you have the power to protect others from such monsters, should you wish to. You have fangs and claws, strength and wits. Learn to use them.”
Yes, Raksha thought, feeling the first real surge of confidence and purpose she had in months, that I can do. Perhaps she could make this new life worth living after all.
Shivani made that little growl-laugh again, seeming to sense the change in Raksha’s demeanor. “Freedom, the ability to be beholden to no one, is of particular import to our clan.” There was an almost impish glitter in her eyes when she asked, “Would you like to see another thing Gangrel can do besides just speak with animals?”
Raksha nodded, intrigued, then gasped as Shivani’s form began to warp and shift. Within seconds, what stood before her was not a woman, but a wolf. It was the largest wolf Raksha had ever seen, with beautiful grey and tan fur and bright yellow eyes that gleamed with intelligence. Mircea hooted from the branch above them, flying down to land on Shivani’s fluffy shoulder and nibble at her ear. Shivani shook her head, huffing at the owl in a way that seemed inexplicably affectionate. She turned to look at Raksha, a proud tilt to her snout.
Raksha actually laughed, looking down at the wolf in nothing short of wonder. Shapeshifting. Genuine shapeshifting, just like the stories. Suddenly curious about all the other types of kindred and what their abilities could be, she vowed to learn them as well as she knew the plants and animals of the forest.
Shivani shifted back after a moment, letting Mircea hop back onto her arm as she rolled her shoulders. “What a gift it is, to race over hills with the wind in our fur, or to take our first flight and leave our earthly tethers behind us. I have faith you will learn this. As I said before, you are young, and experience comes with time.” She turns, holding out her arm to the forest in a welcoming gesture. “Come, walk with me. The night is still young, and there is much to talk about.”
Shivani’s gaze shifted upward to the brilliant night sky as Raksha moved to follow her. She smiled softly, breathing in the scents of the forest as they walked off together. “After all my decades of wandering these lands, the view has never gotten old.”