Slaying the Vampire Conqueror

by Carissa Broadbent

Ascension, not death. Never death. Arachessen didn’t believe in death, only change. Just as the loss of our eyes didn’t mean the loss of sight, the loss of a heartbeat didn’t mean the loss of life.

I jumped a little, startled, as he touched my cheek, the rough pad brushing a strand of my hair behind my ear. “You’re lucky,” he said, “that I have a soft spot for caged birds.”

“Do you think I don’t see,” he said, voice low, “that the past is devouring you, too?” I knew that a wounded soul craved another to mirror theirs.

“Death is what happens when you stand still,” I said. “Don’t stand still. Not for anything.”