Saturday, September 24, 2016

Immortal Part 22

            “Sure. Let’s look at that arm too. Quintas especially won’t be able to resist for too long if you keep bleeding all over the place.”
            “What’s a glog?” I asked. Tavian had swept me into his arms and was carrying me towards a soft patch of grass by the side of the road. Away from Zhivvah, and especially Quintas.  “And why can you resist when neither of them can?”
            “I told you,” Tavian said easily and he placed me gently in the grass and then plopped down next to me. He was sitting very, very close to me and he lifted the sleeve of my shirt so that he could get a real look at the damage Quintas had caused to my skin.
            “He snagged you pretty good, didn’t he?” Tavian whispered.
            I too examined my wound and more than just a mere scratch, there were five, pretty deep gashes. Enough time had passed that none of the lacerations was actually gushing blood anymore, but they were still seeping a bit and now that I saw them, I was a little bit frightened. I could tell by sight I needed stitches and antibiotics. None of these would just heal on their own.
            “Mom,” Tavian shouted, “she’s going to need stitches. They’re pretty deep. And antibiotics or something… and bandages. I’ll work on her foot if you could go get some stuff so I can take care of her.”
            Zhivvah didn’t answer but we both saw her gesture that she understood and then suddenly she disappeared. Tavian tore off his belt and put it around my arm, just above where the scratches were and tightened it.
            “It’s still bleeding a bit and we best stop the blood flow if we can,” he explained. I really didn’t see the point but I didn’t argue with him. He scooted down a little bit and picked up my right ankle and placed it in his lap. Slowly he untied my shoe and then with me grunting and crying he removed my white tennis shoe altogether. Already I could see how swollen and discolored my foot was.
            “I hope you didn’t break it,” Tavian snarled glaring dejectedly at my ankle.
            “I hope not either.” Did they just tend to remove injured body parts in 1408? I wasn’t sure.
            He was very gentle and nice about it and I could tell he was trying very hard not to hurt me, but he tested the mobility of my ankle by moving it slightly in several different directions. It hurt and I cussed at him every few minutes.
            “Well the good news is, I don’t think it’s broken. Bad news… its sprained pretty bad.”
            “What will we do?”
            “Wrap it up real good and then you’re going to have to just toughen up and bare it. We can’t just sit around here forever waiting for you to heal. I’ll carry you when I can.”
            “You’ve been doing that anyhow,” I pointed out.
            “Yeah so… it won’t be that much of a problem, right?”
            I sighed heavily and nodded, “you were telling me about glogs.”
            “Oh yeah,” Tavian said and he surprised me again my taking off his shirt. I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised though because we didn’t bring any ace bandages and as Tavian tore his shirt into long, black strips that he could use to wrap my ankle, I understood what he was doing. “Glogs, like I said before, are vampire hunters.
            There are legends and lore surrounding vampire hunters just like there are concerning vampires. Some say they’re mere humans that know a bunch about vampires and so they just know how to take them out. Sometimes they’re believed to be Dhampirs… like me… but… true Dhampirs are pretty rare. Usually it’s a vampire father and a human mother to make Dhampirs but the mothers usually get killed by the baby before its born and then it can’t take care of itself and it is buried with the mother. Since the baby is weak, just like human babies, it can’t dig itself out, it can’t take care of itself…
            “So it dies?” I asked sadly.
            “No. It lives forever in the belly of its mother starving and weak. It’s a miserable, wretched thing.  The thing that saved me is that my father changed my mother and then Septimus helped us. Anyhow… just a lot of the legends claim that vampire hunters are half vampires…
            A vampire hunter like you, is almost as rare as half vampires. The hunters that have super natural abilities. Who are transformed when they come to their calling. It doesn’t happen a lot.”
            “Super natural abilities?” I asked curiously, but I couldn’t help but feeling slightly pleased.
            “You kicked Quintas’s ass,” Tavian said and his mouth twitched as he struggled to keep himself from smiling. “You kicked my ass,” he said a little bit more painfully.
            “I don’t know how or… or why I did that.”
            Tavian snorted, “I don’t think Quintas would have hurt you… but you took him by surprise when you threw him. And then when he grabbed your arm… you felt threatened by a vampire and you came into who you are,” Tavian said simply. “We’ll just have to make sure you never feel threatened by us. Or you might just kill us all.”
            “I couldn’t do that!” I cried.
            “You almost DID do that,” Tavian reminded me.
            I wanted to protest, proclaim his words lies but I couldn’t. I looked away in shame, “And all you’re trying to do is help me.”
            “I understand,” Tavian assured me. “Really, I do.”
            “And Quintas?”
            Tavian seemed to be through talking after that. He finished wrapping my ankle tightly and then ordered me to sit still while he went to go see what was keeping his mother.
            He returned shortly carrying a box.
            “Crude supplies,” Tavian told me with a grimace, “but its okay.”
            I watched in fascination as Tavian opened the box. I peered over the lid to examine the contents. It contained a needle, but not a sharp pristine needle like I was accustomed to or that I would want piercing my skin. There was also a couple of leather bags which Tavian told me contained water. There was also some kind of paste that smelled really bad but that Tavian assured me would help. There were no real bandages but as Tavian had done with his shirt there were long strips of cloth that would be used to dress the gashes.
            To say I was nervous as Tavian began would be an understatement. I was petrified. He started by ripping the sleeve from my shirt. I gave him a dirty look and asked if that was necessary.

            “Well, yeah. It’s covered with blood. Quintas and my mom would go nuts. It’s bad enough for me.”

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