Page 45 of We Were Eternal Once

“Then we have the human soldiers fight,” Menodotus says with a roll of his eyes. He dislikes me—that is fine. I hate him. He is no better than Theon with his stupid word games and how he says so much but so little.

“Ah, the mighty war admiral, who puts his weak humans on the front lines because he cannot survive in the sun,” I reply. Zahra giggles, but Ardashir does not join her pleasure.

“What do you know of battle?” he hisses, then chances a glance to you. Perhaps I am protected from their true ire by my proximity to you. Essemteu may whisper in your ear, but I am made by you. Chosen. I am your companion and they are not.

Still, I know to tread lightly. I wanted this camaraderie amongst our kind; I asked for this. And for all your annoyed gestures, you enjoy their devotion. You are a goddess, you deserve nothing less.

So I still my tongue when I want to rip theirs out.

“Enough to know being felled by the sun would make for a poor leader. Tell me, how long can you resist the call of the sun in the morning? A minute? Two? An hour?” I press. Dione watches me curiously, her head tilted ever so slightly.

“Resist?” Ardashir asks, blinking at me.

“Yes. When the sun rises in the morning, how long until you fall into the deep slumber?”

“Instantly,” Ardashir says, confused. “As do we all.”

“The point stands,” you interrupt, drawing attention from me. Well, all the attention except for Dione. Her gaze cuts into me, reading what I do not say.

“Our strengths are great, but our weaknesses are greater. It is why the first rule was made first, to show its importance. If humans were to know our true nature, they would exploit it,” you continue.

“Exploit it how?” Zahra asks, leaning forward, her chin resting on her hands.

“The blood of our kind creates immortality,” Essemteu says.

“Yes, but it’s not that simple,” Zahra says. “They cannot just drink our blood and be like us.”

“No,” you agree. “But our blood does lend to healing. Our blood fed to a sick child can heal them of most maladies. If they knew this, they would hunt us down.”

“But we are stronger,” Menodotus protests. “No human could overpower us.”

“They need only find where we rest,” you say.

“But they would need to know that,” Menodotus continues.

“It is far better for them to know nothing. The tales of our kind are myths to humans, stories they tell their children to behave, or excuses for treating others poorly. The more we remain in mysticism, the less chance we will be hunted,” you say.

“Have we been hunted before?” Dione asks.

“Yes,” you say, your voice so quiet that had we been human, we wouldn’t have heard it.

“By humans?” Ardashir asks.

“Yes,” you repeat, louder now. “It is why the five rules were created. Each was to rectify a grievous wrong. Telling our true nature to a human without intention to make them into one of us led to their knowledge of our kind. Leaving a trail of bodies gave the humans a villain to investigate. Making another of our kind without proper thought meant too many of us, and too few humans to hunt. Writing about us leaves evidence. And the last rule...” You pause, your gaze sweeping skyward for a moment before you continue. “To walk this earth eternally in the body of a child is cruelty. The bond between maker and creation is intimate, too intimate for a child—or family. So the rules were created.”

“What grievous wrong?” Dione asks.

You are quiet for a long moment, and I think you will not answer. When you do, I do not recognize your voice. “A wrong that brought our numbers from hundreds to less than ten. I will not speak on it, lest I bring about its second coming.”

Dione follows me through the streets.

Does she think I cannot sense her? Does she think she is that quiet? She is no hunter—she was a philosopher’s daughter, created by a poet who thought her clever. She may be clever with words, but she is not so clever now.

It is not hard to disappear down an alley, climb up a building and drop into the street behind her. She searches for me, her pace quickening as she tries to recover the distance between us when I disappeared.

“Looking for someone?” I ask, just as she is about to duck down an alley and search for me.

She turns quickly, her eyes narrowed as she watches me. “How did you do that?”