She never thought she would, but here Samantha was, truly carving a wooden sculpture in the most beautiful sunshine, albeit with a very fresh wind. She transformed her hobby skills as a carpenter into the wooden likeness of a Roman-looking, scantily clad female figure standing as a statue in the middle of a frozen fountain in Stein’s gigantic garden.... At this time of year much lay fallow, but hedges of slender conifers provided colour despite the winter and there were several conservatories, sheltered by glass and warm temperature, where plants, shrubs and flowers grew and bloomed in all their variety of colour.


    What perhaps did not quite fit into this peaceful yet symbiotic picture of snow and greenery was a certain ghoul. Motionless and somewhat impassive, Raug remained on a hill, unimpressed by the snow and cold. It was not that he kept a constant eye on the guest, but simply watched her carve.


    Samantha wasn’t entirely comfortable with him, but at least she had gotten used to him in the last few days, and if she put aside how scary he seemed and that he could crush a whole zombie horde with one finger, she had to admit that he was relatively docile and helpful. He had carried the necessary utensils and the thick log Samantha was whittling away at here for her. "Raug likes your artwork."


    "Eh, thank you ... Raug," Samantha smiled genially, but the ghoul certainly didn’t recognise it. She herself looked at her far-advanced work self-critically, but she too was relatively pleased.


    "You have talent," a voice admired. Despite the noon hour and unbridled sun in the sky, an observer stood low in the twilight of the fully covered archway that belonged to an outbuilding of the estate. It was Patriarch Stein, whom no sunlight reached, but the brightness penetrated at least a few feet into the shadowy corridor, giving the cloaked vampire a mysterious aura in which his yellow eyes stood out especially. "Is art your passion, besides law?"


    "Sometimes I paint and make creative gifts, but I am carving for the very first time."


    "A hidden talent, I see."


    "Well, ask Raug how many trunks this is," Samantha admitted frankly, pressing the knife into the lower, unused part of the sculpture.


    The ghoul nodded. "Raug has already fetched five logs."


    "Yes, thank you for that Raug," Samantha said politely and walked to the corridor. She had on winter-proof clothes, but near the brickwork it was less draughty. "Who does the statue actually represent? Is it a Roman goddess or any ancient celebrity at all?"


    For some reason, this question brought an unusually warm smile to Oskar’s lips. "A goddess, indeed," he revealed, closing his eyes reminiscently. "The only one for me, then, as now and forever. This is my late wife Artemisia."


    "Oh, my condolences," Samantha professed, looking to the side a little ashamed. "If my sculpture is inappropriate, I will remove it immediately."


    "There’s no need for that," Oskar denied, looking at the art in all its glory and possibility. "You have combined life and death in your work. There are not many who consider the grave of the deceased as a source of inspiration.""


    "What do you mean, grave?" asked Samantha awkwardly, glancing at the fountain. "This is ... a grave?"


    "I didn’t think you knew that," Oskar replied, drawing attention to a marbled plaque on the edge, embellished with gold plates. "It says everything you need to know. In every cardinal direction there is this inscription."


    Samantha had seen the plaque before but had not bothered to read it until now. "I really didn’t mean to be irreverent."


    "You weren’t and I’m glad you breathed a little life into my Artemisia for a brief moment."


    "Thank you and if I may ask, was she also a ...?"


    "I met her in Rome in 1356," Oskar told me, taking a seat on a comfortable wooden bench in the corridor. "She didn’t know what I was at first, but her passion for botany was infectious and pure romance, and clever to boot. She noticed that we always met at night and I trusted her so much that I revealed my nature to her and ... she accepted it, with heart and mind, without an ounce of fear. Rarely do people react like that when a vampire reveals themselves."


    Dryly, Samantha looked to Raug. "Or when a ghoul marauds roaring in the night forest."


    The ghoul didn’t mind and Oskar laughed. "Well Raug didn’t exist at the time, so fortunately that wasn’t an option and because of your question, yes, but not right away. We spent almost eight years as husband and wife before she asked me."


    "You can do that with vampires?" inquired Samantha in amazement.


    "Love knows no bounds and there are no laws against it, although I must mention that it was extremely frowned upon back then in particular and it was a popular gossip topic for centuries, but what did I care? I had my dear Artemisia and after she became a vampire, eternity was open to us. I couldn’t imagine or wish for anything more beautiful."


    Samantha wasn’t sure if it was proper to ask that, but she tentatively ventured. "If you don’t mind me asking ... how is she ...?"


    Even in this twilight, you could clearly see the vampire’s facial muscles contort in bitter annoyance and at first it seemed he didn’t want to answer that. "My loyalty to the Tenebrae cost her her live," Oskar sighed, though it remained questionable why he was going into detail to a stranger. "We vampires had stolen from the Church one of its most precious artefacts - the very first Bible that ever existed and that caused everything and everyone who opposed the vampire world to recover that artefact at all costs."


    This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    The church was a place of faith and the Bible was sacred and the very first of its kind to boot, but Samantha couldn’t see how a single book could mobilise such powers. "I mean, I guess it doesn’t get much holier than that, but why go to all that trouble for an object of symbolism, no matter how important it is?"


    "Oh my dear, it’s not just a book," Oskar said weightily. His words, and coming from a dyed-in-the-wool vampire, sounded like a myth. "The first Bible in this world came from heaven itself. Not only does it have a spiritual power beyond compare, but it is also the link between heaven and earth. Call it a connection, for all I care, through which heavenly powers can enter and leave this world or give their orders."


    Samantha certainly meant no disrespect where Artemisia’s death was concerned, but Heaven? THE heavens? "So you’re telling me that ... angels, Jesus ... God? This is all real? Really and truly?!"


    "Plainly put, yes," Oskar asserted without flinching. "As there is heaven, so there is hell. There is so much more in and around this world that you know or suspect nothing about."


    "And how exactly did you and your wife get involved there?"


    "My connections were requested in order to keep an object of the highest importance safe," Oskar recounted with self-loathing. "The Tenebrae said it was extremely important and was being hunted for, but I ... had I known what it was, my loyalty would have ended there and then. Instead, I trusted and prepared for a tough fight, but what was to come was beyond tough. For me, it was judgement day and just as I lost my wife, many of my clan found death."


    Thoughtful, Samantha held back. She didn’t want to inquire further and had probably opened up an old wound.


    However, another voice also joined in the story. "Raug has failed," came dejectedly from the ghoul.


    "Yes Raug ... we both did," Oskar admitted, but for a moment he looked resentfully at the plain servant. Then Oskar rose from the bench and sent the ghoul away, moving his hand as if to blur the servant’s thoughts. "Find a quiet place and rest. Let the past fade away."


    "Raug forgets. Raug rests," the ghoul nodded and stomped away.


    "Is he sleeping at all?" wondered Samantha, checking.


    "Not really," Oskar shook his head and turned away, so that for the first time he did not look at his guest as he spoke and felt indulgence. "But he is what he is because of what happened back then."


    "Did he die in that fight?" asked Samantha, not quite understanding where the ghoul had failed. "Is that how he became Raug?"


    "Before he became a ghoul, he was my most loyal blood knight," Oskar recalled wistfully, looking up at the ceiling. "Few people have I trusted so much, and he was human. He was supposed to keep Artemisia safe, but ..." The vampire, so eloquent and steadfast until now, came to a point of disappointment. "No, it was not his fault. He fought off many powerful enemies, but in the end it was too much. I don’t blame him ... at least I try not to."


    "That’s why you both failed," Samantha realised, combining razor-sharp connections. "That’s the reason, isn’t it! Raug’s dying wish! You said he wanted that gruesome fate of a ghoul! He wanted it because he couldn’t protect your wife?"


    "...Yes," Oskar breathed, but he slowly tried to get away from those memories. "But like Raug, let’s let bygones be bygones again. Instead, let’s talk about the future." It was clear that further elaboration on this tragic subject was not desired, but at least Oskar sought eye contact again.


    "I guess it’s time for me to make my decision isn’t it?" surmised Samantha. She hadn’t seen the patriarch in the last few days and Emily had told her that he had important business to attend to and apparently there might be some great calamity soon. That he was now making time for Samantha had to mean something.


    "Well, certainly you could do more thinking," Oskar conceded to the woman, opening his cloak enough to fold his arms behind his back in a tight officer’s stance. "But a feeling tells me that you have made your choice."


    That the patriarch hid his hands didn’t worry Samantha. She trusted the vampire at least insofar as he wasn’t preparing words that might displease him. "The last few days have been crazy, to put it kindly," she opined. She had definitely talked to some of Oskar’s children and learned a few things about the society of the night. "I’ve really been thinking hard and getting to know some of your family members and Emily has spoken highly of you. I really think I could do a lot of good with your help, more than I could before."


    Despite the patriarch’s stony countenance, one could read Oskar’s patience and interest. His guest’s praise and outlook even made him smile briefly, but the Klan leader was not deceived by it. "I see it in your eyes," he said sympathetically. "You would only too gladly accept my offer, but you won’t."


    Politely, Samantha shook her head. "No, I won’t. I’m really sorry."


    "There’s nothing to apologise for," Oskar replied, approaching his guest. Friendly, he extended his right palm to her. "I regard you as a gifted and extremely intelligent woman, aware of the possible consequences, and yet you remain true to yourself, despite the overwhelming benefits of my offer. Such integrity is not found every day and I sincerely admire that. You are one of the better specimens of the human species."


    "I’m about to blush and not many have managed that," Samantha admitted sheepishly, but she allowed no doubts about her drive. "I don’t suppose I can get the next taxi back to town, though?"


    "That would be most odd," Oskar agreed, seeming to have prepared himself for a refusal. "We kept your tattered uniform and left it as it was. Put it on, get dirty and Raug will take you back to the forest. What explanation you have for your disappearance and what happened when you return, I will leave to you. To say it will be hard for you, however, would be a vast understatement on my part. Even if the Tenebrae leaves you in peace, I fear you will regret your choice."


    Indecisively, Samantha eyed the man who had earlier spoken of integrity. "This is not an attempt to convince me with fear, is it?"


    "No, it is simply my feeling and experience," Oskar said in all his wisdom and even without words, his eyes would have spoken clarity. This was not the first time he had experienced such a situation. "Ages may change, but many stories repeat themselves in some ways, with marginally different details and yours is not the first time I have taken part in it. Almost always, that path ends in doom."


    "Then that’s just more incentive for me. I have no intention of repeating the lives of others."


    "I’ll keep a close eye on it, as long as you don’t mind."


    Samantha pretended to be calm. "It’s your life, so you can do what you want with it," she smirked saucily. "Besides, I couldn’t stop you, whether I’m for it or against it."


    Like a true gentleman, Oskar at least left open the illusion of a possibility. "Hardly you could, but nothing is impossible. Personally, I hope your story will broaden my experience into a positive one, but I think we should now prepare everything for your departure."


    "Get me dirty you mean," Samantha laughed at herself. "I suppose that’s the price I gladly pay for all the comfort and your hospitality. Thank you so much, Patriarch Stein."


    Oskar bowed politely. "The honour and pleasure was all mine, Police Officer Rockford."