To my utter surprise, Antun replied bashfully, one hand rubbing the back of his neck while he didn’t meet the doctor’s eyes. “I may have fibbed about having an appointment with you.”
“According to Maya’s blush, that wasn’t the only thing you did,” Sava said with a tone of severity, causing all of us surprise.
In our shock, Antun still somehow attempted comedy. “I’m charming?” he said, shrugging, more question than statement.
You could’ve heard a cricket sneeze for how quiet the area around the bench had gone. It was like even nature itself was holding its breath for his reaction. Sava let out a deep chuckle that rumbled into a laugh. “Oh, that girl. And you, Antun, are trouble, sir.”
“The best kind… I hope,” Antun replied cautiously.
Sava chuckled again. “I think so.”
Then his countenance dropped, like a shade had gone over his features. “To get back to Michael’s question, I was Davor’s scribe for the earliest experiments. As his scribe, I kept copies of every experiment, as insurance should the other copy be destroyed somehow. It’s something all archivists know. However, Davor was not an archivist, nor did he think like one. He thought I meant to steal his work. I only ever meant to keep it honest. He said that if he ever saw me again, he’d kill me himself.”
“He exiled you?” Antun asked.
“‘Cast out the witness and the miracle stays pure.’ Those were Davor’s words at the time, though I couldn’t tell you what he meant at all. Being his scribe didn’t mean that I understood the man.” He sighed, the sound weary and full of centuries of being a witness.
From the folio, Sava drew out a plastic-protected page. It looked old and brittle, burnt almost to nothing inside the protection of the plastic sleeve. He handed it to Antun, asking, “Does this handwriting look familiar to you?”
Antun squinted at the warped ink for only a moment. “That’s Davor’s handwriting.” He squinted and tromboned the page in front of him to get the right angle to read it. “Someone ‘demonstrates a fervor bordering on worship. He believes true immortality requires removing the soul from the equation…Creation as if the soul were optional….’ The rest of it was burned.”
He studied the page a moment longer before handing it back to Sava, who slipped it into the folio. Sava said, “That’s all that remains of his original notes. Well, that I had access to. Most of it was burned in a fire a few centuries ago.”
I wondered for a moment if we should tell him about the journal we had back at Antun’s. Glancing at Antun, I saw the question in his own eyes before he set his jaw. Ultimately, I decided that if Antun didn’t want to say anything, maybe we shouldn’t say anything. Yet.
“No name, no result – only conviction. But if one believed this, then Nikola will not be the last,” Sava concluded.
My chest tightened. I already knew there was a good chance that one of Davor’s progeny was active again, but to hear this, it was almost a confirmation of what I already knew. Nikola was only the beginning of this, whatever this was.
Michael whispered, “So it’s not over.” It didn’t sound as if he thought that perhaps it wasn’t. More like it was confirmation for him too.
Sava shook his head, “It never is.” Dread unfolded over the reverent quiet as we let that knowledge sink in.
Syla tried to brighten the conversation by asking, “What exactly is it that you do here at the Archives, Dr. Stojanov?”
Sava sat up and explained, “I am a director of digital preservation for museums and governments. I am the middleman, you could say, between them and the archive.”
“What I’m hearing is that you’re the gatekeeper,” Michael replied.
Sava’s jaw tightened. “Of a sort, you could say. Nothing goes into the Archives without passing through my hands first.”
“That’s a lot of power,” Antun mentioned casually. “You decide whether something remains to be remembered.”
With a steady tone, Sava responded, “I remove dangerous footnotes. History heals faster without evidence. Take Nikola, for example. None of us want someone doing what was done to Drew to someone else. So, I did what I could to ensure that his memory would not survive. Though my work was made significantly easier by his lack of digital footprint in the first place. It even seemed as though someone had gotten to his information before I did, because there was hardly a thing at all left to find. All that matters in the end is that his deeds will not be remembered, and that keeps all vampires safer.”
Antun nodded, “That would be thanks to Stojan, another of Davor’s progeny. He’s the head of a firm that helps governments and companies cover up all kinds of things. Seems to me that there isn’t much of a difference between what you two do, you both even claim to be doing it for the sake of vampire-kind.”
Sava glared. “Would you do any different?” He didn’t raise his voice at all, but his words hit home. I still didn’t know what the right thing to do was in this situation.
I frowned. “You erased him?” My stomach sank at the thought – not of Nikola himself being erased, but that anyone could be erased. Even an immortal vampire.
“No,” he said. “I protected the living from believing.”
I noticed the way Michael’s hands tightened into fists. “That’s the same logic Stojan used – bury the truth, call it mercy.”
After a moment, Sava’s head bowed slightly. “Perhaps mercy and cowardice share a border. I’ve spent lifetimes crossing it.”
Thinking about it, it made sense. Was it mercy or cowardice to lie to someone? Where was the difference. The line seemed so blurred that all it gave was grey unknown.
And that unknown blurriness reminded me of Selene. Her words rang through my head – it seems we only meet when bleak things are at hand. It was obvious that it was up to us, to me, to get this figured out before worse things happened. I wondered…
“Dr. Stojanov,” I began, “Something that Nikola mentioned is on my mind. Since you’re an archivist, you seem like one of the best people to ask. Have you ever heard of the legend of Dracula and Selene?” Was she the same Selene that I was meeting in my dreams? What did that mean?
Michael, Antun, and Syla each looked at me with varying degrees of confusion and concern, having not talked about this with them beforehand. But it came to mind as I sat next to Sava. Something about his quiet presence reminded me of Selene, and if there was any chance that he knew more, I had to ask.
Sava’s eyes narrowed in thought. “I have, though it’s been a very long time since I heard it.”
“Would you mind giving us your telling of the story? Nikola said some pretty wild things before the end and I don’t know what of it is even true, if any,” I explained, knowing that this was a very random turn of conversation but needing to know.
His gaze became unfocused as he leaned back, crossing his legs and a hand going to his face. He stroked his bearded chin in thought. “The last time I heard this story was probably around the same time that Davor had thrown me out, perhaps just before it. Dracula and Selene were young and in love. During a hunt, he changed. How he became a vampire, whether or not he was the first, I don’t know. All I know is that the story goes that he went into the forest alive and came out transformed.
“Despite that love he had for Selene, once he learned of what he had become, he craved for more. For recognition, for fear. He wanted to be a god among men. Selene could see that he was dissatisfied but hadn’t known the cause. You see, Dracula had never told Selene of what had happened to him. So, one night, being the brave young woman she was, she confronted him.
“The next part of the story differs a little from telling to telling, but most consistently, he ended up telling her exactly what he was, including his need to feed on the blood of the living. Selene was a smart young woman, but she was deeply in love. Too deeply. She offered herself up to Dracula, hoping that by helping him in this way, it would bring back the man he used to be.
“Dracula, overcome with emotion, fed upon her. But in his passion, he took too much, or maybe began to feed on her energy instead of her mana. Whichever the case, he had to turn her in order to save her.”
Michael and I looked at each other. Well, didn’t that sound familiar…
“After her turning, she believed that everything was solved. It was not. Dracula had, somehow through Selene’s sacrifice, become a god. Distracted by this new power, he went and terrorized the neighboring villages and cities.
“Selene was left at his castle, newly turned and alone. She knew that Dracula had changed from the man that she had fallen in love with. She sought out a witch to help her, and the witch told her that the only thing that could end her Dracula would be the toxin of the yew.
“The witch fashioned a dagger out of yew for Selene, and all that was needed was to wait. When Dracula eventually returned to his castle, her love had turned into resolve. He went into the bedchamber, and when he had lain down and closed his eyes, Selene plunged the dagger into his heart.
“As he lay dying, he looked upon the woman he had loved, and he cursed her to remain in the castle for the remainder of her days. Davor believed the story, but as much as I like a good story, I couldn’t determine the truth of it, so I always believed it to be a legend, a fantasy.”
“Well, Nikola certainly believed it was real.” I shivered at the memory. He had wanted me to become his “Selene” in every sense of the word. I took measured breaths through my nose, willing the nausea at the thought to subside.
He’s dead. He can’t do anything to me now, so why does he still affect me so badly?
I continued, “From the way he had told it, he made it sound as if Dracula had been obsessed with Selene as much as he was with power.”
“Perhaps. Who’s to say? Though I’d wager that his greed for power was greater. Is there a particular reason you wanted to know?” Sava asked.
I swallowed. Do I tell him about my dreams? What if he thinks I’m delusional or crazy or something? Despite him being a stranger, his opinion mattered to me for some reason. Glancing at my friends, my eyes landing on Michael’s, I could almost hear him think I trust him.
I turned to face Sava more fully. “What do you know about… visions while dreaming?”
Sava lifted a brow and his forehead crinkled. “Why do you ask?” he responded curiously.
How on earth do clammy hands happen without a functioning circulatory system? I thought to myself as I wiped my palms on the legs of my pants. Well, here goes nothing. Hopefully he doesn’t think I’m a complete loon…
“Ever since Nikola took my reincarnation energy the first time, I’ve been experiencing visions in which I interacted with a woman named Selene—”
“The first time? What are you talking about?” Sava asked, confused.
“Well, the first time he tried to take my reincarnation energy, I kinda stabbed him and made him stop before he could take everything.” Sava lifted his brows in surprise, eyes going wide. “He finished the job a couple weeks later, taking everything else,” I went on. Nodding at Michael, I said, “Michael managed to turn me after that at the last possible moment, and that’s how I’m still here.”
“I see,” Sava intoned. He was quiet a moment longer before saying, “Now, back to the topic of dreams. What can you tell me about the Selene you met?”
I sighed, “To be entirely honest, not much at all beyond her physical description and temperament. She seems very kind, if withdrawn.”
“I see,” Sava replied, nodding. “What else do you remember of these dreams? Perhaps that might give us an idea.”
I thought for a moment, then said, “The dreams are always in the same place. It’s a beautiful terrace balcony on the edge of a cliff with dark climbing roses, and the cliff drops into the sea that goes on past the horizon. I’ve never seen a sky so clear and beautiful before in my life.”
Sava listened intently, deeply invested.
“And I seem to only get the dreams in order for Selene to pass on information in the form of riddles. Information about how I need to stop what is coming, even though I have no idea what it is. The only thing I know is that it’s coming soon, otherwise I wouldn’t have dreamed of her.”
The archivist hummed deeply in his chest, a hand coming up to stroke his chin again as he thought about what I had just shared. He glanced at the others, then looked at me. “I can’t tell you whether or not it’s the same Selene, nor about why she insists on your help. But it is definitely curious.”
So, no answers and more thoughts. Just what had he covered up already? Did it matter? I didn’t know.
The sun was at its zenith, and Sava looked up at the canopy of leaves that were slowly changing color, then back down at his watch. “Oh, bother. Look at the time. I have an appointment, a real one,” he said with a pointed glance in Antun’s direction.
Antun shrugged with a grin.
One side of Sava’s mouth quickly tipped up into a grin of his own before it fell again. “I don’t know what your opinion of me is, at this point. But now you know the truth about me, whatever you decide.”
He stood, holding the folio to his chest with one arm, the other hand drumming his fingers on the back of the folio. Glancing at each of us, he said, “May I leave you with one last caution?” Everyone was silent but I nodded. “Be careful what you preserve,” he urged as he locked eyes with me. “Truth can outlive its mercy.”
He stepped forward and away from our group, turning to look at the four of us altogether. “While I know the lives of the vampires that you must still visit, I do not know how your encounters will turn out. I hope your meetings go well, and that you are able to figure everything out. Should you need me, you know where I’ll be. It’s been a pleasure,” he stated as he held out his hand to Antun.
For a breath, nothing happened. Then Antun took his hand and shook it. “A moment,” Antun asked as he opened a compartment in the back of his phone. “My card, should you need to contact us.”
Sava then shook Michael’s hand. Michael didn’t seem to know how to act after the whole erasing thing, so he just nodded his farewell with the handshake. Then Sava shook Syla’s hand, her smile at him gentle.
I stood as he held his hand out to me. “Thank you for your time, Dr. Stojanov…” I felt like I wanted to say more but I didn’t know the words. He seemed to understand and reiterated, “Remember, you can contact me, should the need arise.”
He stepped back again. “As I said before, it has been a pleasure. Goodbye,” he said simply before turning and walking back toward the Archive.
The rest of us stood there by the bench for an awkward moment before Michael took my hand. “Come on, there’s more of London to see and only today to see it.”
I smiled, but I still felt a niggling in my stomach as we walked back to the pathway and toward the train station. It made me think of erasure, and my inevitable end.
Michael squeezed my hand and I looked up. He had a look of concern on his face.
“I’m okay,” I assured him. “Just a lot of info to process is all.”
He looked at me a moment more before a soft smile broke through. He nodded and we continued on. But his smile, as perfect as it was to me, couldn’t fix what was coming.
