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“This may burn,” I warned as I leaned over her, tipping the bottle. The astringent hit the wound, causing her to jerk. The liquid immediately bubbled in the cut as I gritted my teeth. I knew it had to sting, but Poppy didn’t make a sound.
“Sorry about that.” I set the bottle aside. “It will need to sit for a bit to burn out any infection that may have already been making its way in there.”
She said nothing, just let her head fall back against the mattress. The hair that was always in her face slipped down her cheek.
I stopped myself from moving it out of the way and instead focused on what I had to tell her. “The Craven were our fault,” I said. “Their creation, that is. All of this. The monsters in the mist. The war. What has become of this land. You. Us. It all started with an incredibly desperate, foolish act of love, many, many centuries before the War of Two Kings.”
“I know.” Poppy cleared her throat. “I know the history.”
“But do you know the true history?”
“I know the only history.” Her eyes opened, fixing on the bones above her.
“You know only what the Ascended have led everyone to believe, and it is not the truth.” I picked up the chain that lay across her lower stomach, moving it off her. “My people lived alongside mortals in harmony for thousands of years, but then King Malec O’Meer—”
“Created the Craven,” she interrupted. “Like I said—”
“You’re wrong.” I sat, drawing a leg up to rest my arm on. There wasn’t a lot of time to tell her this, but I had to if I had any hope of her understanding. “King Malec fell hopelessly in love with a mortal woman. Her name was Isbeth. Some say it was Queen Eloana who poisoned her. Others claim it was a jilted lover of the King’s who stabbed her because he apparently had quite the history of being unfaithful,” I told her, imagining my mother conspiring to poison someone. It wasn’t exactly that hard to imagine. “But either way, she was mortally wounded. As I said, Malec was desperate to save her. He committed the forbidden act of Ascending her—what you know as the Ascension.”
Poppy’s gaze shot to mine.
“Yes,” I confirmed what I knew she was putting together. “Isbeth was the first to Ascend. Not your false King and Queen. She became the first vampry. Malec drank from her, only stopping once he felt her heart begin to fail, and then he shared his blood with her.” I stretched my neck. “Perhaps if your act of Ascension wasn’t so well-guarded, the finer details would not come as a surprise to you.”
Poppy started to rise but stopped. “Ascension is a Blessing from the gods.”
I smirked. “It is far from that. More like an act that can either create near immortality or make nightmares come true. We Atlantians are born nearly mortal. And remain so until the Culling.”
“The Culling?” she repeated.
“It’s when we change.” I curled my upper lip, showing the tip of a fang. “The fangs appear, lengthening only when we feed, and we change in…other ways.”
“How?” Curiosity filled her.
“That’s not important.” I reached for a cloth. There wasn’t enough time to explain all of that. “We may be harder to kill than the Ascended, but we can be killed. We age slower than mortals, and if we take care, we can live for thousands of years.”
Poppy stared at me. She didn’t counter that, so I figured I’d made progress. Or it was just her curiosity. Probably the latter.
“How…how old are you?” she asked.
“Older than I look.”
“Hundreds of years older?” she whispered.
“I was born after the war,” I told her. “I’ve seen two centuries come and go.”
She gaped at me, and I figured it was best I continue.
“King Malec created the first vampry. They are…a part of all of us, but they are not like us. Daylight does not affect us. Not like it does the vamprys,” I said. “Tell me, which of the Ascended have you ever seen in the daylight?”
“They do not walk in the sun because the gods do not,” she answered. “That is how they honor them.”
I snickered. “How convenient for them, then. Vamprys may be blessed with the closest possible thing to immortality, like us, but they cannot walk in daylight without their skin starting to decay. You want to kill an Ascended without getting your hands dirty? Lock them outside with no possible shelter. They’ll be dead before noon. They also need to feed, and by feed, I am talking about blood. They need to do so frequently to live, to prevent whatever mortal wounds or illnesses they suffered before they Ascended from returning.” I glanced at her wound. The fizzing had eased. “They cannot procreate, not after the Ascension, and many experience bloodlust when they feed, often killing mortals in the process.”
