After She Has Gone

WITHIN THE ABANDONED castle, there had been not a soul for centuries. It had always been Lord Vaulic, drifting among the shadows and forgotten by history. Vaulic was not old; he was ancient. He’d been before humans began to record time, before their civilization, before the creation of storybooks that depicted him devouring their souls in his younger (more shameful) days.

But tonight, there was. One had been taken, and now one had been created.

Vaulic sat beside the corpse of his love, the ever-brilliant and ever-loving Stella. Her limbs were frozen and cold, with dusted lips. Although her skin was beginning to fade in its vitality and be replaced with the blue of her veins, her hair still remained a vibrant and curled golden-yellow.

He brought the strands to his lips, feeling their softness as he had done even while she lived, and wept silently.

Elsewhere in the castle, there was life. Vaulic knew of its presence, for it had taken his beloved’s. A newborn babe, the one she had prepared endlessly for as it grew in her womb. Vaulic hadn’t seen a child in so long, but Stella assured him that it would be together they would raise it.

But now that she was gone, Vaulic had no desire to take on the task himself.

So, Vaulic let the newborn cry for hours. Deep within him, he hoped it would cry itself to death and he wouldn’t be trapped with it in this castle without Stella.

But after the fourth day, he couldn’t take it any longer. Its cries echoed in the empty castle, and even Vaulic could hear the small thing’s voice grow hoarse. And yet, it carried on, desperate for its mother’s attention.

Vaulic arrived in an instant, but it did not stop. He couldn’t do nothing but stare, and the infant stared back, still wailing.

“Thy mother is gone, child.” Vaulic stated, hoping to inform it of why it has not been comforted.

But the babe was too loud to hear, it seemed, because it hiccupped and wailed like the armies of old. Vaulic grew annoyed.

“Cease thy cries and hear me clear. There is no use in tears. She is gone, dead like a tree broken at its trunk, and shan’t return.”

The infant refused to hear. It squeezed its eyes shut and wailed, softer than it had before, as it seemed to be drifting to slumber.

“There is no use in tears.” Vaulic repeated, feeling the rising waters of grief pooling into his chest, like a hand had gripped his throat. Vaulic knelt beside the crib, the one Stella had built, as she hadn’t thought a stone coffin would be adequate enough.

“Thy mother knew how to care for thee. I do not.” Vaulic admitted to the now-passed-out child.

If it were left to him, he wouldn’t have placed the child within a stone coffin and allowed it to sleep, wake to eat, then sleep again. But Stella insisted human babies required more than such basic care.

What care she had been speaking of, he did not know. And that he feared.

“Thy name is Francis, child. As she hath wished.” Vaulic said. The name out loud caused the infant to stir, and he took it as a sign that it fit well.

***

Vaulic does not eat humans as he used to, because it would require leaving the castle. He found it much easier and less consuming if he simply slept to gather his energy.

He knew the time was coming when he would need to slumber. Stella would have brought him goats to feast on, but now that she was gone, he would need to return to unconsciousness to survive. And the pain of her passing was too much for him to bear in the waking world.

He left the infant to cry. Vaulic hoped it would sleep when he did, and when he woke, Vaulic would tend to it.