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December, 1476 A.D.


***

Kaine

Kaine grabbed the hammer’s handle but Mjolnir, Thor’s hammer, wouldn’t move. Lightning flashed through the snowstorm. Crags and sheer drops surrounded him as he stood on the rocky outcropping on the side of the mountain Sildpollneset. He glanced at his youngling, then back at the god’s hammer. It was the stuff of legends, and the legends were, apparently, true in this case. Thor bled at his feet. The first of the immortals had fallen. Yet still the hammer was stuck.

Kaine wiped the golden blood off his mouth. “Drink child. The power you gain will be immeasurable.”

Vlad Tepes stared at his sire, then dipped his finger in the viscous fluid welling from the fallen god’s throat. “This makes no sense to me … how have you done this?”

Kaine smiled. “They feed on belief the way we feed on blood. They are no different than us, other than being able to feed on countless victims simultaneously. I attacked him at the source of his power. His food. That is what you are going to do, Vlad.”

The younger vampire looked confused. “How?”

“Belief.” Vlad leaned over and lapped at Thor’s throat while he listened. “While I attack the gods, you will attack the other gifted species. The Shifters, the Fey, the Angels, and the species that draw power from faith. It will take centuries, but you must change how they are seen. You must change what they are. Kill them as protectors. Make them villains, make them monsters. Then make them jokes. Take away the fear, and leave them no place to live but in stories.”

Vlad finished his meal and looked up to Kaine. “I believe I understand. The same way that the Ottomans disparage Wallachia and Christianity, attacking us with rumors, I must attack the very words that the commoners hear and speak.”

“Exactly. You have been given the gift of death. You have been cut free from the Threads of Fate. In a world of blacks and whites, you are gray. You can sway between the poles of creation. Not mortal, not divine. That is the curse, and the gift, of the vampire—and those like us.” Kaine reach down and tore Thor’s head off. He handed it to Vlad. “Give this to Stephen Bathory. He will deliver it to the Turks. The shifters are attacking his family, giving him this gift will do well to secure the future for you. You must pass along the protection of your country.”

Vlad turn the head over, studying it. “I don’t understand. Of all the things you have asked, why do you insist I must give up my homeland?”

Kaine placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “I know you don’t understand. But the world must be shaped. I have been granted visions by my mother, the mother of Night. Someday, a werewolf will be born that cannot change. His blood will be the shape of the container we need. He will be able to hold power like no other on this planet. At the same time another like my brother will be born. When that vampire is born, one that doesn’t need blood, alongside the werewolf who cannot shift, I must have them both. The vampire can define the power within the wolf, and the wolf must be there when the unblooded is born. It is the key to our kind becoming gods.”

“We must reshape the world until the gods themselves believe that those two must be brought together. Changing the future is not an easy feat.” Kaine squeezed Vlad’s arm. “But while we shape events, I can promise you this—I will destroy the Boyars over time. You must trust me. I will hand you the world. You are so much more than you realize now. Your father may have been of the order of the dragon, but now you are the dragon, and when you roar it shall shake the pillars of heaven.”

The two stood in silence and watched as the snows slowly buried Mjolnir. Vlad stood, cradling the head. “I shall make them monsters. As you command.”

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