On Astral Tides: From Humble Freelancer To Astral Emperor

“I have some food, Ileana. It’s hot, so eat up.” Valeska, her blood child, had returned, holding a small basket of steaming food, as well as a pair of mugs of what smelt like spiced wine. Setting it down on the small, battered table, she sat, brushing flakes of snow from her hair and shoulders, her eyes sunken and ringed with dark circles, showing she still had not fully healed from the grievous wounds she had suffered at the hands of the so-called Godly men.

I do not have much strength left, I slept… far too long. My heart blood was brackish and dark. So her recovery is delayed. Mine, however… Despite everything, Ileana was feeling stronger, her own savage wounds having closed up. Still, I hunger. Recovery without sustenance is… painful. Her own face was gaunt, her hair, once her pride, now lank and straw-like. To that end, she reached out one pale hand, her ring back on her finger, as despite everything, Valeska refused to keep it. Inside the basket was fragrant cooked pork, minced and served in cabbage leaves. Her saliva running, her canines itching, she quickly shovelled some into her mouth, chewing. Is this… rice? And some sort of milk, no… cream, is it?

Seeing her eat, Valeska smiled fondly, as if looking at a child. Slowly, she began to eat herself, taking a sip of the wine. Ileana reached for it, taking a swig, and her metallic-hued eyes shimmered with pleasure as the warming, spicy liquid teased her tongue. There was silence, only broken by the sounds of eating, until the both of them leaned back in their chairs, sated for now, yet knowing such a small feast could only stave away the tides of hunger for a short while.

Licking at her lips, Ileana came back to reality, as painful as that was. With a mournful sigh, she looked at her only friend in this wide, confusing world. “How… how is your money holding out?”

“Not used to it yet, are you?” Valeska chuckled. “I suppose money was all precious metals then, silver, gold and such. And a little aristocrat like you probably didn’t have much need for money. Probably had a servant sort out any payments for you. They say nobles don’t carry cash like us common folk.”

At her blood child’s teasing, which had become a staple these past days, Ileana felt irritation, but also a little happiness. It is shocking just what one can cling to when nothing else remains. The situation is… hopeless. “You had to sell your… your girl, as you called it. The car, horseless carriage.”

Vakesha snorted, expression sour. “That I did. Poor old girl, she’s been with me through thick and thin. But what choice did we have? Most of my money burned with my home. Never did much trust the banks, and even if I did, I’m no fool. Too easy to trace us, if those bastards in white have connections. Still, we didn’t get a terrible deal, and the fact we got transported here to Sibiu under wraps is a good thing. The Romanian Mafia probably won’t have dealings with the holy folks. They’ve got a code of silence and shouldn’t sell out a client. We have a little money for now, and this tiny room is cheap. Still, we can’t stay here, can we?”

“No.” Ileana agreed. She stood, walking over to the window, pulling aside the tattered curtain. Outside, the sky was cloudy, blocking the irritating sun, and flakes of white were floating down, though the snowfall was far from enough to coat the roads and paths, having been churned into mud by the feet of the pedestrians. So many. How can the world contain so many people?

“No, we cannot evade them forever, and fighting them… it is futile. We are few, they were always many. We escaped, yet… I have never been fortunate. I fear we shall be discovered. And even were we to remain hidden… how shall we live? We can survive off our vitality long, but… in the end we are not the dead, merely…”

“Merely the slowed, yes. You say that often, little light.” Valeska had started calling her that, a play on her name. “You’re right, of course. Sibiu’s not a city I’m that familiar with, but there’s a few hundred thousand people here. It’ll be hard to find us, even if the Mafia gives us up. Still, now that I have mostly recovered…” She flexed her limbs, trying not to show discomfort. “…we need a plan. I admit, I’m furious, Ileana, furious. Those so-called men of faith, fuck them and their mother’s Gods! My house, burned down. I would have been killed, just for showing a little light like you a touch of kindness. Besides… I never believed in the Strigoi, but if you are one, little light, then I don’t think you are as evil as the myths and old stories say. I judge it as I see it, and I saw their swords and maces, and my own blood and broken body.”

“We are not. Not monsters.” Ileana protested, not for the first time. “Just… just different. Yes, we ruled, because we were strong, and long-lived, so could accumulate learning and wisdom, and… yes, there were those among us who saw your kind as inferior, only fit to be serfs, but… we are not Godless creatures. It is not fair, but…” She shivered, feeling so very alone once more, despite her blood child’s reassuring presence. “…life is not fair, my mother told me. It seems she had the wisdom she was famed for.”

“Mothers always are wise, little light.” Valeska laughed quietly. “So, we are alone. But… you exist. Others like you surely do too. Now, I don’t have much call for a television, but I heard things, when I visited the nearest town. Dismissed it as nonsense, nothing to do with me, of course.” Her previous head of thin white hair had thickened, and a faint hint of her previous brown colour was creeping back in. The revivifying power of my heart blood, surely. Youth can slowly be regained, though it will never reverse all the ravages of age.

“Now though, it might be time to do some digging. I don’t know about you, little light, but I despise not being busy. And I’m more likely to escape notice and blend in, even with my tired old bones…” She winced, still not fully recovered. “…than you. You don’t know much about the modern world, do you, sleeping beauty?”

Sleeping beauty? I am charming yes, but… I am wide awake? As Valeska laughed at her confusion, Ileana puffed out her cheeks in an angry pout, and her stomach gurgled, moving her sluggish blood to heat her pale face a soft pink. “I know I am unversed in the world I find myself in, but… I am a quick learner. I always have been. And you cannot shelter me forever! Besides, closer to me, our blood resonates, you shall be stronger, faster, and recover more quickly. I should come with you. If…”

“Ah, don’t worry, little light. I’m no fool, I know a few tricks.” With a smirk she brought out one more package she’d purchased. “Money is tight, but… if you don’t care much about the colour, hair dye is cheap, girl. It’s a shame, your beautiful hair, so much like gold, the metal, not a mere blonde… it’ll take it hard, but… you can always grow out your hair again, not so much your head, I imagine. Though, some of the myths, little light, about your kind…” As she dragged a bucket over to the tap at the rusty sink the small room possessed, filling it with lukewarm water, the best the boiler could provide, Valeska nattered on, and while Ileana was confused, she found it a comfort. “…who can say if that’s true? Now then…” She grinned, tapping the sink. “Over here and lie down. It’ll be a bit chilly, but… you’re a big girl now, aren’t you? Let granny Valeska take care of it…”

Take care of what? Despite her puzzlement, Ileana laid her head down, and was soon shivering as the water was poured onto her head. Unlike her previous shower, this was not pleasant, and there was no warm hair dryer, to dry her now damp, brown hair, and soon she was looking at her reflection in the cracked glass of the window, a cheap, thin winter coat around her shoulders. I… do not look myself. That… that is welcome though. Alas, I do not expect a disguise will fool any of those who hunt me, but it might make the serfs and peasants unable to identify me and spread word of our passing…

***

Outside, her cheap hood hiding her face, the thin coat and her worn, tattered clothes, gifted to her by Valeska before they fled, doing little to keep the chill from stinging her flesh, she breathed out slowly, still holding Valeska’s hand like a young child. Yes, around her, everything was strange, and the bustle of the peasantry surprised her, as did the fact they seemed prosperous, lively despite the snow. Even so, I am not going to get swept away by the crowd, nor will I allow my attention to wander, I am simply not knowledgeable about habits and customs yet. I have adapted to the shift in language, although… I hear many tongues I vaguely recognise, and some I do not. Unusual…

From her experience, foreign travellers were rare, but it did not seem the case now. Also… such a display. They are not lanterns, nor candles or torches. More lights functioning on this ‘electricity’. It truly is a marvel. And pretty… Her own eyes shifting between blues, greens and copper hues, her breath misting in the winter chill, she gazed at the brilliant, beautiful lamps in red, white, blue, green and many other colours, lining the streets and wrapped around trees and bushes. Garish signs in languages she could not read were also giving off brilliant hues, and coupled with the noise of the people, as well as music, many types, overlapping, with instruments and sounds exotic to her ears, it was a rush of strange sensations.

“Easy now, little light.” Valeska chuckled. “Don’t get distracted. Drawing attention is bad.”

“I know that.” she grumbled, though she instinctively squeezed her blood child’s hand tighter. “Where are we going? You said you wished to find out information, but… I may be sheltered, but even I am aware that places knowledge is brokered are dangerous. Like these Mafia you dealt with, such sellers of rumour and stolen knowledge cannot be trusted.”

“True. No honour among thieves, they say. Not that that’s entirely true. Many gangs, like the Mafia, they rely on their word at least seeming good. If they can betray without any rumour leaking out, then yes, it might come down to profit. But you misunderstand. What we need isn’t rumourmongers, or town gossips. The world has moved on, little light. It’s moved faster and further than someone who doesn’t recognise what a hair dryer is can imagine.”

As Ileana’s slow flush deepened, they continued to walk, turning down a smaller side street. It was still busy, as busy as a main thoroughfare back in Ileana’s lost youth, but compared to the riot of people on the main street, it felt almost relaxing.

“There.” Valeska pointed, interrupting Ileana’s reverie. “That’s the place we need.”

The faded sign said that it was a ‘public house’ which confused her, but once inside, the welcome warmth of the interior greeting them, she understood. Ah, it is a tavern. It seems clean enough, if a little… confusing.

Glancing around, she could see small groups of men sitting around tables, mugs of beer or small glasses of some strong liquors in hand. It seemed there were no female patrons, though a bored-looking woman was waiting around, idly wiping some glasses. The clothes they wore were unusual to Ileana, but she had learned from her blood child that fashion had changed significantly in the long years she’d been sleeping.

The last thing to catch her eyes were the… televisions… the strange devices which broadcast images of people and places far away, just as if one was there, or even produced impossible falsehoods, as if by magic. Valeska had feared I would insist little people were trapped inside and forced to perform, but that is simply insulting my intelligence. I can grasp a simple concept when it is explained to me! Remembering that caused her to puff out her cheeks, irritated, though her hood shrouded her face, rendering that unseen. Now though, she was pleased that she was able to sate her curiosity and look at one properly. Most of the… screens… were showing some sort of sport, a group of men, wearing two sets of brightly coloured shirts, running about, chasing a ball, while a massive crowd watched on.

Once more bothered by the mass of people this world now held, she obediently followed Valeska, not wanting to make a scene. Her blood child went over to the wooden bar, where a burly, moustachioed man in a white shirt and black coat, was watching the television with idle boredom.

“Two glasses of wine. Red.” Valeska asked, dropping some of the strange paper money that had replaced silver and gold on the table. Seeing that, the man grinned sourly and asked if she had any preference.

“Wet and strong is all. It’s chilly out.” Valeska replied, and the man barked a laugh as he reached behind him and pulled out a bottle, before emptying the red contents into two glasses.

“That it is. Just flurries now, but it’s going to come down some later. A white Christmas. I wonder if it’s an omen… the world’s gone mad.”

That is the truth. I thought the world was chaotic and cruel when I was forced to sleep, but now… so much I fail to understand. Valeska handed her the wine, so reminiscent of the colour of blood, and as she reached for it, the man snorted.

“She’s a pale one. And it’s warm in here. Why the hood? She so pretty you worried the guys in here will be… impolite? We may be a backstreet tavern, but the boys here are all good Christians. Besides…” He snorted again, amused at his own joke. “…most of them are married, and their wives would serve them shit for dinner rather than pork. It’s not worth porking an unwilling girl only to have their own sausage cut off and thrown into the fire, is it?” He laughed uproariously. A few men glanced over, before going back to their drinks and television, and the barmaid merely rolled her eyes.

“I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue, young man.” As he shook his head, muttering that he wasn’t young, Valeska’s expression softened. “My granddaughter’s a pretty one for sure, just like I used to be.” Being called that, Ileana felt an odd stinging around her eyes and nose. She took a sip of the wine, dyed hair falling out of the hood, exposing her face for a moment, and the man nodded as Valeska kept explaining.

“Sadly, my old husband, Iisus Hristos rest his soul…” She made the sign of the cross, a gesture that made Ileana uncomfortable, but she knew not all that followed such a faith were enemies, no, it was just the fanatics, the so-called demon-hunters and witch-burners, to be feared. “…was not a robust man. And he passed that down to my kids. Gone now…” she mourned, and for a moment Ileana wondered if this was a slightly altered telling of her blood child’s true life. “Luckily… my granddaughter here is still with us. She didn’t inherit my stamina though. After all, I’m still going strong…”

At her words, the man agreed, nodding along, and after a sip of wine, Valeska finished her story. “Sadly, she keeps her pretty face covered up, not because she’s shy, or I worry anyone will try and snatch her…” She flexed her fist. “I’ve still got the strength in my old bones to shoo off a pest.”

“I don’t doubt it…” the man murmured.

“She just doesn’t take well to the outdoors. Not so bad today, what with the cloud cover, but… why take chances?”

After that conversation, they found a corner seat, where they could keep their backs to the wall and see the door. It was paranoid, but there were no guarantees their pursuers were lost for good, despite Valeska’s efforts over the past days. One more smaller television was on the wall, displaying something else, and as they sipped on their wine, warming up, Valeska narrowed her eyes.

“What’s this?” She was looking at the television, reading the words on the screen. While Ileana had adapted to the changes in the spoken language here easily enough, the written word took time and study, though with her talent for languages, it would not be too hard for her. Words, though? I can understand perhaps how images of people can be shown, but… words? Words are not… never mind.

Ileana glanced at the television, seeing a man and a woman walking through a busy street. The woman was beautiful, if a little stern-looking, with rich brown hair and shining blue eyes. The man had an exotic appearance, with grey eyes that almost seemed to sparkle with gold or amber. They were walking hand-in-hand, and those around them were pointing and gasping excitedly.

Then the image changed, to the same man, but with an entirely different woman. It shifted again, and suddenly a voiceover started.

“Akio Oshiro and Princess Eleanor of Great Britain. The world wants to know what is happening, especially after the shock announcement of his engagement to Princess Mikasa of Japan. But more importantly…”

“These scenes were taken just hours apart. Some have questioned…” A second voice began. “…if it is a lookalike or some sort of stunt, but when the BBC reached out to the Monarch’s Press Office, it was confirmed that indeed it was Akio Oshiro and their Princess, though they refused to clarify the nature of their relationship. When the Japanese Foreign Ministry was asked about this, and whether Akio Oshiro could teleport, they replied that of course he could not move freely around the world, but that nowhere within Japan and Britain was outside his reach, warning those that would cause trouble in either country that he could be there, blade aimed at their necks, in an instant. Apparently, it was a warning to the Church of True Revelation, not to repeat…”

The Church? Ardelean? Ileana drew in a sharp breath, clammy sweat beading on her pale skin, hand clutching the wineglass so hard the contents almost sloshed free.

“Calm yourself.” her blood child insisted, before she waved a hand. The barmaid strolled over, and asked if they wanted more drinks, or something to eat.

“Best bring a bottle. Red.” She threw out more of their dwindling, precious money. “And a plate of sarmale. My granddaughter needs to eat, and it is Christmas. But I was wondering… who’s that and what are they talking about?” She pointed at the TV and the woman’s eyes widened in shock.

“You don’t know? He’s the most famous man alive right now, even surpassing the Hollywood celebrities or the President of the USA. Are you teasing me, or have you been living under a rock?”

Valeska coughed bitterly at the insult. “My granddaughter and I lived out in the wilderness. I only go to town a couple of times a month to sell my produce and pick up supplies. Don’t even have a TV, satellite was too expensive, and no way anyone’ll run a phoneline out to my desolate home. So no internet and bad phone coverage.”

“Doamne ferește. Shit.” The woman cursed, shuddering. “No phone, no TV, no internet? How did you live?”

“Quietly.” Valeska chuckled, patting Ileana’s hand. “And I had my dear granddaughter to look after and think of. But I felt she’s old enough to at least see a little of the world, and it’s Christmas…” she lied. “…so we came here for a little trip. We have a radio back home, though it’s mostly for listening to music…”

“How third world.” The barmaid sighed. “So you don’t know then?” Suddenly her expression perked up, eyes alight with excitement, their order forgotten. “Crazy! Then you must be some of the only people that don’t know magic has come back to the world! People with superpowers, like Akio Oshiro and Princess Eleanor. Not just them…” She was warming to the topic, and the TV changed, showing Akio Oshiro out with two young women, one with the same odd features as him, black hair and similar eyes, though Ileana noted she was very beautiful, and beside her, a short girl with gleaming amber hair and eyes. “…there are all sorts of mythical creatures too. See that!” She jerked her thumb at the television. “That’s Shaeula. She’s apparently not human, a Faerie. Look…” She pulled out what Ileana recognised as a mobile telephone, though it seemed quite fancy. After a moment, the screen worked just like these televisions, playing a scene with the orange-haired woman, declaring “You would bar-bar my way?”, her hair and dress fluttering as an unnatural green glow flared around her.

Is that… the breath of wind? Such was a fading power, along with the glow of flame, the might of earth, the flow of water…

“After that, the dreadful attack by the Church of True Revelation was fended off, not just there, but in Japan later too.” The woman revealed a three-barred cross around her neck, which she clutched tightly. “By God, I’m a religious woman, but… I don’t think the Lord would wish us to shed blood of the innocents in his name. But…” She frowned suddenly. “Oh, sorry, your order! I’ll be right back…”

As she scurried off, Ileana and Valeska exchanged glances. “Well then…” Her blood child was the first to speak, her voice low. “…it seems your existence makes rather more sense. If the Strigoi are like these Faeries…”

“I keep telling you, I am no Strigoi. I am not a monster!” As she insisted that again sourly, she realised Vakesha was teasing her, trying to keep her calm. Annoyed at having fallen for the bait, she sighed, her long canines gnawing at her lips as she watched the television. It now showed footage of similar white-clad warriors to the hated crusader who had come for her, being repelled in a foreign land. Wait, is that girl the black haired one we have just seen? The shots were taken at a distance and rather blurry, but Ileana presumed so.

“What do you think?” They fell silent for a moment as the barmaid brought over the bottle, along with a tray of warm meat and cabbage rolls. Once the barmaid left, after another brief, excited spray of words about this Akio Oshiro, and the strange new world, Valeska spoke again. “The way I see it, we only have a few options. One…” She frowned, her expression hard. “…we try and set an ambush for our pursuers, finish them off. But it won’t be easy, little light.” She clicked her tongue. “Firstly, I’m still rather useless as anything but a distraction. I’m no fighter. Even with your… gift… I’m still no match. And killing doesn’t sit right with me, though I’m not the Virgin Mary, I’ll fight for my life if I must. But even if we did succeed…” She nodded at the television. “…it seems there’s more than a few of these white-armoured bastards. Do you think they’ll come for you again?”

“Undoubtedly.” Ileana was without any hope of a sudden cessation of hostilities. “We are anathema to them. We always were.” Thoughts once more turned to just before her sleep, the screams, the smoke, the taste of iron, the smell on the bitter, charred breeze, and she shut that away. Not now. That was a long time ago. Now… now I must think.

“They always have methods of finding those who wish to remain hidden. It is their way.”

“I see.” Valeska was disappointed. “The next hope is… finding more like you. But from your situation…”

“Yes. I… doubt there are many of us left. Even if there were, I have no way of discovering them. I have slept too long.” She rubbed her ring softly, finding little comfort in it.

“Then… if we cannot hide, and we cannot fight, and help is nowhere to be found…” Valeska poured them more wine, before digging into the rolls.

“Could we not… go to this Japan? An enemy of his is an enemy of mine.” Ileana asked, thinking hard. “And if he is with this Faerie… he will perhaps not turn on us out of hand, and at least hear us out.”

“It’s… an idea. But I’d want to know more about him first…” Valeska asked, and waving to the barmaid, she brought her over, only to ask her more about the broadcast. As she was bored, the few patrons nursing cheap alcohol, she was happy to talk, and did so at length, until even Ileana, who was incredibly curious, was bored. The wine was almost gone, the rolls devoured, when the barmaid was called to serve some other patrons, and Ileana was left rubbing her temples.

“She was… enthusiastic. It all sounds a nonsense though.” Ileana grumbled. “Tales of heroism and villainy all rolled into one. Generous yet cruel, mighty, yet giving. Propaganda of the Kings of old.”

“Aye, little light, it sounds like so much nonsense, but… the news reports it. Engaged to the Princess of his land. Clearly something is going on with the Princess of Britain. A harem of Faeries and humans alike. Proposing hospitals to heal the sick, and wielding living weapons of thunder.” The news had shown some of a strange conference, where a living girl had changed into a sword, called and cut the storms. Seeing that had given Ileana chills. As strong as grandfather was rumoured to be, perhaps… it should not be possible, but… it seems the world is changing, becoming more like the world my parents, and their parents before them, knew? Though much is different…

“You are a comely lass, and it seems he is soft on women.” The footage of many dates he had been on, all seemingly yesterday, was shocking, and it was matched by pictures from a noble ball, which had left Ileana feeling wistful, a pain in her chest and heat in her eyes. Such pretty dresses. And the music, the atmosphere. I… I miss… Though the ball had much that was strange, it reminded her of happier times, times which, despite being so long ago, were not so distant for her, since she was sleeping for so long…

“Of course, as my granddaughter…”

Ileana scoffed at that. If anything, by their blood ties, she was the mother now, but… it felt good to be connected with someone, even if the words were comforting lies.

“…I wouldn’t feel good, you going near such a womaniser. You’re too pale, Ileana, and need more meat on your bones, but you’re a beauty. He’d eat you up like a little doe trapped in thorns is devoured by a wolf.”

“So you think… we can go there and find sanctuary? To this Japan? I have never heard of this land, is it a new one?”

“No, it’s a very old one.” Valeska disagreed. “Sadly though, going there… it’s impossible. Firstly, we have no money for the plane.”

Plane?

Seeing her confusion, Valeska sighed. “I forget how much you don’t know. Imagine a metal bird that flies, carrying us great distances. You see… Japan is far, far across the oceans. Besides, even if we did have money, you and I, we have no passports, no documentation. We would be detained or prevented from flying. I would be able to get one, perhaps, but you… you don’t exist, little light.”

“So what do we do then? I will not run like a rat forever, until cornered.”

“Yes, while cornered rats bite, I don’t see it ending well for us.” her blood child agreed. “Let me think. Huh… an idea…”

“What?” Ileana was suddenly flush with hope, and with a wicked grin, Valeska pounded her chest. “Leave it to me, my cute granddaughter. Although… it is a gamble.”

“What is?”

“We don’t know if we will be treated well. After all, many fear Strigoi, and yes, you say you are not such a creature, but… truth matters less than what those with power over us believe. And we have little power of our own. Your fate… perhaps it will only be as cruel as being a concubine… I’m fortunate he likely has no taste in an old relic like me…”

That is… “I have no taste for such wicked humour.” Ileana finished her wine primly, licking her lips clean. “…but… anything is preferable to being burned at the stake, or slowly torn apart, by such wicked men. And I live long…” Mother, father, brothers, sisters… I can endure. I will… not be the last of us. Even if I have a hundred years of suffering, I can take it, and… remember you all…

“…all sorrows pass, except the grave.”

“All sorrows pass, you say? I like that.” Valeska nodded. “I don’t think it true, but you are young yet, girl. I understand you are lost and are grieving, are lonely… but you’d be amazed at just how some sorrows cling to you like glue. That aside… I don’t even know if this will work, but…” She waved to the barmaid again.

“What is it? More wine? Or something to eat?” she asked, as she came over.

“Yes. Food.” Valeska agreed. “But… can I be a pain? My old phone doesn’t have any internet, and I’d dearly like to look something up.” The news scrolled on as she had been thinking, and one phrase caught her eye. “…spokesperson for the Ministry for Spiritual Matters of Japan, in which Oshiro Akio, is special advisor…”

“Sure? I guess. If you make it quick?” she conceded, and Valeska thanked the girl, telling her to buy herself a drink too.

As she left to get their order, Ileana looked on, curious. “Just what are you doing?”

“Hoping that I won’t be dismissed as a prank, little light. Hoping that someone reads this, and also… hoping that the kind side of a man who opens hospitals, rather than the cold, lustful side of a man who snatches up many women, prevails… ah, here it is.” She found the website for that Ministry. “Contact us… ugh, luckily the page is translated, I don’t understand their odd letters… let’s see, providing information on spiritual phenomenon, and also… requests for help. Yes, I shall send a message to each of these…”

As she tapped on the phone screen, a marvel Ileana still barely understood, she felt a sudden premonition. No, two premonitions. Her teeth itched abominably, signalling great danger, while her chest… it burned, burned with the feeling of a desperate, golden opportunity…

I wonder… just what will come of this? For good, for ill… all sorrows pass, but sometimes… fresh sorrows follow…