- 11 -

  Fenrir

  "My story is a long and complicated one, but let me tell you how I came to live... and die in the city. My mother died in childbirth. It was a tricky delivery. My father never spoke of it, never attributed any guilt for it. He didn’t ck for female company; a handsome man with money in his pocket. He sold pelts and skins and lived handsomely from it.

  He gifted me a magnificent wolfskin when I was about your age, bigger than anything you could imagine. What a battle it must have been to acquire it. I felt such pride when I wore it.

  I took the money he left me when he passed and came to the city and opened a shop. It failed miserably. I tried everything to make it a success, but nothing I could do could keep the doors open. Seeing my father's success come so easily to him in his ter years, I was foolish enough to think I could repeat it.

  I was too young to see his struggles in his early years. I didn’t know the sacrifices and knocks it took to become successful in business. When I lost the shop, I was fortunate enough to find work in a tavern, trying to keep myself afloat. There I found myself a love for drink, something else my father had left me.

  The failure didn’t weigh as heavily when I drank.

  The widow that ran the tavern took pity on me. I knew she recognised me from my shop, though we never spoke of it. She treated everyone equally. Truly, she was like the mother I missed growing up.

  I wasn’t long in finding out that drink wasn’t my only vice, however. I loved gambling; the bones, in particur, were a favourite pastime. I thought I could win my money back; give me a second chance. It was inevitable that my vices would catch up with me. It was a wonder I sted as long as I did!

  I borrowed heavily from a ne’er-do-well who was passing through. He probably saw me coming. Lost the lot in a single night! Can you believe it? I tried to pay him back with money from the tavern's coffers.

  She found out, and although it broke her heart to do so, she kicked me out into the streets. There I was, a wretch who had ridden in the good graces of this woman from whom I had stolen, and I still had the gall to look her in the eye with disgust that she was putting me out.

  I was on the street, and my main worry was, 'How would I get a drink to do me the night?’

  Well, would you believe my luck? Someone offered to buy my st possession in the world, my wolfskin. And for a small fortune. I never even pondered it, 'Here you go and thank you.’

  A fortnight's worth of drinking money. Now the irony here is that he didn’t pay so much because it was such an exquisite piece. No...more to the fact he knew how cold of a night it was to be. I fell asleep clutching the bag of coins to my chest, shivering, holding a drink even tighter in my other hand.

  And then there was darkness. Beyond the sleep, there was further darkness.

  From that abyss I returned, an experience I wonder if we share? Instinctively, I plucked a nearby rat from the gutter and bit into it. Its blood warmed me. I wanted blood more than the desire for alcohol had ever gripped me. There is a level of desire beyond addiction, a force that drives actions without thought.

  I had to leave the city immediately. Back then, there was no part of the city where vampires had any sense of safety. It used to be that we had to hide who we were and move from pce to pce. It doesn't take long for people to notice that you only come out at night and don’t eat anything.

  Staying in one pce for too long just wasn’t a choice. We were all very aware of the others who were afflicted, and we looked out for each other. There were those who succumbed to their baser instincts, and there were those who made do with animals. Our numbers were steady, and there were times when we had to deal with those who crossed the line and risked exposing we who chose to behave ourselves.

  Luckily, by this time, Magnus had resurfaced, and he was prepared to do what had to be done with those people. Magnus knew that human blood would grant him strength and sharpen his senses even further. He partook only as a utility rather than to enjoy it. He was very different that way, or maybe that was just how I chose to see it. I admit I was willing to make excuses for him.

  We were aware of the build-up of forces to the south; an army that rge does not go unnoticed. Not least because it offers our kind all sorts of targets of opportunity. This pce was always going to be a natural target. They headed slowly towards the city, cutting a path of destruction as they proceeded.

  There were several attempts at diplomacy that fell on deaf ears. You have to remember that the city itself enjoyed its fair share of warmongering in the past. It has deep-rooted enemies throughout the continent. As the invaders drew closer to the city and the people retreated inside the walls, a massive siege was set up.

  Determined to draw out the city’s defenders, they bombarded the city non-stop throughout the day, and by night they would attempt to scale the defences. The fortifications being what they were, even in those days, it was all retch and no vomit. The true goal was to starve the city into submission. There were no allies to come to the rescue.

  Or so they thought.

  Magnus, being a keen strategist, knew that we could take advantage of the situation. We snuck into the city using a small pass in the wall. I swear to you, the only break in the wall of the entire city and enough for only one man to fit through at a time. It’s still there, but only a vampire would know it.

  We were given this part of the city based on the location of that break in the wall! For all the glorious sights to see in the city, if not for that hole in the wall, we wouldn’t be around to see it!

  We met with the consul, the man elected to defend the city, as was their way at the time. We knew he was desperate. We knew it was the only time he’d entertain any sort of discussion with us. We offered to help break the siege. We would torment the opposition at night.

  We began by picking off stragglers. Anyone that stepped away for any reason, we killed them.

  We id siege to those besieging the city.

  The first night, stories spread through their camps like wildfire. They bmed ghosts and demons as much as vampires, so terrible were we at the carnage we delivered. By the end of the second night, men had started to desert. On the third night, their army turned their backs to the city and faced the darkness. Still, we picked them off.

  On the fourth night, the city's army attacked. They could have been fighting in broad daylight, such were the efforts the invaders had made to light up the surrounding area in response to our campaign.

  We continued steadily with our work during the confusion. On the fifth night, they were ready to surrender.

  We did not allow it.

  For our part in the sughter, we would be given our part of the city. A small price to pay when they could have lost it all. The man we made our deal with had seen the benefit of working together with us, and for a short while, we were celebrated for our part in saving the city.

  I remember it being very short-lived, but that was to be expected. We had achieved what we set out to; we had a safe pce for our kind to live. No more need to live like nomads. For my part, I wanted to build on this and provide work. I had no idea how successful that would be. Being able to move goods by night gave me an edge on some of my competitors, and being able to outlive and outlearn them made me unstoppable.

  There was no need to beat out any competition. It soon became necessary to have vampires guard your caravan. No human merchant could hire them, and there was no chance of another vampire starting up against me.

  I built the abattoir to help feed the city, and by that I mean, give us a steady source of blood. Once I had more money than I could count, I started paying for the defence of the vampire district as violence against us began to rise. It wasn’t long before I was funding the entire guard!

  I can understand why many feel like we’ve taken over the city. You have to understand that every single action was a result of trying to make life liveable for us. Now I’m stuck here, in a prison of my own design, doing everything I can to protect everything I’ve built.

  Those that have been with me since the start and endured have benefited this city in ways that a human never could. We are bonded in a way that no man could ever understand."

  The old man leant in as though the walls were listening.

  "I will tell you a secret that few people know about Magnus."

  Fenrir’s face lit up, and a heartfelt smile crossed his face, causing his already extensive wrinkles to multiply.

  "He’s –"

  THWUMP!

  Both Matthew and Fenrir jolted out of their seats. They looked at each other and then at the entrance to the study. Ambrose rose from his seat, where, until now, he had been listening quietly, and reached for something at his waist. As he was about to draw whatever it was, Terrant appeared in the doorway.

  "Bite my wrists!" The old man excimed in frustration. "It’s a door, not a drum!"

  After a few seconds, the tension in the room dissipated. Terrant could not hide his smile, realising that he had given them quite the fright.

  "I believe you have a job for me?"