Sun's Glory - Pt. 01

THE LEGEND OF SUN'S GLORY

I never saw the sun until my fifth birthday. Always, it was dark when I awakened, when I ate, when I went places with my parents. I didn't go to school; I had no childhood friends. But I learned a lot.

I learned that people do things in the dark they normally wouldn't in the light, as if no one could see them. I learned to love the color red. I did not ever hear my mother say she loved me, nor my father. I did not play baseball or football or go to the Prom. Do not pity me. I am what I have become.

I saw the sun by accident. After a birthday party at the local ice cream parlor, my parents dumped me off at home with strict instructions to stay inside. Then they left to do whatever it was they did when they were alone.

Gleefully, I turned on the television and watched all the programs I wasn't allowed to watch normally. I sat mesmerized on the sofa clicking the remote control past cartoons, scenes of white bodies writhing, guns blazing, and cars crashing. My parents returned home and went to bed without noticing me, a frequent occurrence. I was tired, but still did not want to go to bed.

A faint light in the east caught my attention, and I shut off the television. Walking over to the window, I gazed out through the dirty glass. The sky became pink, pinker, orange and yellow, until the edge of a blazing red ball emerged over the horizon. It continued to rise, and for the first time I beheld the sun in all its shocking glory.

Its rays bathed me in light, and I saw all the colors of the world, green and blue and brown. Right then I knew I was not a creature of the night. My soul yearned for the light and seemed to cry as I turned away from the glory into my dark little room.

Some instinct kept me from mentioning my discovery to my parents; I felt they would not understand. I pretended to live as they wanted me to live, spending time in the sun while they slept, until I reached the age of twelve. Then I came into my own power.

I called them before me only minutes before dawn. They were puzzled, unsure of what I wanted. It had been seven long years since I discovered the sun, and they looked the same. My mother's hair still shone like polished wood; my father's bushy black beard was as dark as ever. I knew they had always wondered about my hair. It had steadily lightened since my fifth birthday, and now shone nearly white.

I am not a creature of the dark, I told them, standing before them unafraid. My mother's fingers contracted into claws, and she hissed at me, her beautiful face transformed into that of a hag. My father had better control.

Son, he said, that isn't true.

I know what you are, I said. I'm not like you. You can't make me like you.

We could, my mother said, and showed her sharp white teeth.

After everything we've given up for you, this is what we get? You've betrayed your very blood. My father stood tall and straight, glaring at me as he used to when I was a child and I'd done something wrong. But he had no power over me. I'd had seven years to prepare myself for this moment.

Goodbye, I told them, and felt a bit of sorrow pierce my soul.

Striding over to the windows, I yanked the heavy red curtains down, letting in the full glory of the sun. They were incinerated instantly; I'm sure they didn't suffer.

In that dawn, I was reborn, reborn as a hunter.

I am feared, I am dangerous, I am not merciful.

I am called Sun's Glory.

***************************************

People do love their heroes, especially ones with a tragic backstory. That all happened decades ago, the stuff of legends and folktales. Since then the world had changed, overrun with vamps and werewolves, witches and wizards. Humanity retreated into small settlements, hiding in abandoned buildings, surrounding their villages with makeshift fences and distrusting everyone.

People watched me, wondering at the stories, wondering when I would show them my power, my abilities, anything so they could pass the story along, fabricating it as they went. Or they challenged me, thinking to catch me off guard. I regretted that, because all I knew was killing. I grew weary of this and began avoiding gatherings of humans in favor of solitude.

I had just settled in for the night beneath an outcropping in the foothills, the small fire burning merrily, when my peace was intruded upon. One of the things my heritage gifted me was acute hearing--there was someone out in the night, someone trying to sneak up on me. My hand gripped the smooth baton hanging at my waist, the only movement I made. If the interloper thought I would be blinded by the light of the fire and therefore unable to see into the surrounding darkness, well, they would soon discover their folly.

The twigs snapped and I jumped to my feet and stepped beyond the fire. I heard an intake of breath, felt movement in the air and stepped back just as a machete swung past my face. I grabbed the wrist and squeezed hard so that the sword fell to the ground.

"Don't hurt me!"

"Yet you sought to harm me," I said, kicking their feet out from beneath them. The figure landed on their back, and I smashed my boot onto the throat, ignoring the pathetic attempts to escape. It was much too late for that. There is no mercy in me; the legend has that part right at the very least. Steel-toed boots made short work of the skull and I wasn't even breathing hard. I fervently wished they would leave me alone, so I didn't have to do things like this.

I kicked the ruined corpse down the hill and then returned to my fire.

**

Loneliness ate at me and when it became too much to bear, I shouldered my pack and began walking back toward civilization. As I left the outcropping where I'd camped for a few days, the rising sun beat down upon my head, bleaching my hair even whiter. It was one of my hallmarks, the token by which I was most often recognized. The glare hurt my eyes, so I pulled on my hat, a worn wide brim that usually hung down my back by a leather lace.

Buildings rose in the distance like the mountains I'd just left, and as I got closer the empty windows began to look like blind eyes and broken teeth in long, sad faces. I wondered what I would find. I had been to this settlement years ago, when I was young.

Joe and Ruth had taken me in not long after I was forced to run from the things my folks had always protected me from. It was not merely vengeance those creatures were after; they feared me, as well. I was nothing they had ever seen before: I was not a vampire yet neither was I human. I was dhampir, and I could destroy them.

I stayed with the couple until my oddness became too apparent. Other children refused to play with me and complained to their parents about the 'creepy kid'. It was a particularly painful time in my life, when I struggled with my identity. At twelve years old I wanted to be like the other kids whose biggest problem was whether their folks would let them stay up late or if they'd get a bike for their birthday. I'd left my childhood in that room with the ashes of my mother and father.

Joe and Ruth were kind, but even that kindness couldn't protect me from angry humans.

We were eating a late supper of rabbit stew when a crowd gathered outside our home. I heard them approaching and lost my appetite. When I pushed away my bowl Ruth asked me what was wrong.

"They're coming," I said and while she looked confused, her husband knew exactly what I meant. "Lucjan, go hide," he ordered, taking his rifle down from above the door frame. Ruth's face went white and she grabbed my shoulders to bustle me away.

"No. They are here for me and I shall face them." My blood began to thrum, my breathing deepened. This. This is what I'd been born to do: protect myself and those under my protection. Joe and Ruth thought they could reason with this mob of frightened humans, but I knew better.

"Lucjan, they will kill you." Joe's face was full of distress because he still saw me as a thirteen year old child. In a moment, he would believe differently.

"They will try," I told him, and turned the doorknob.

When I stepped out onto the porch, my hands held at my sides, the mob sighed collectively. A mass of scared faces looked back at me, makeshift weapons clutched in trembling fingers. A few had firearms, others knives. Most, though, had garden implements.

I stood silently, Joe and Ruth behind me, letting the tension build. I felt a pang of sadness--not because of the hell I was about to unleash, but because I'd have to leave. Again.

"You people, go back to your homes," Joe said, pushing me behind him.

"No," a man shouted, brandishing his pistol. "How can you keep protecting him? He's a dangerous freak." At his words the crowd hollered in agreement. I saw Joe's shoulders slump. He tried once more to reason with the mob, to no avail.

"He keeps us safe from the night creatures! No vamps have bothered us since he came here!"

I could have destroyed them--every last one of them, but Joe's hand on my shoulder was a caution. It was no good. So I left. And now I was back and unsure of my reception. I was no longer that thirteen year old boy-man, still finding his way in life. I was fully grown now, and fully come into my power.

Sweating and thirsty, I paused to drink from my canteen, and also to determine the lay of the land. I usually steered clear of large groups of humans, so this rightfully made me cautious. It's not that I was unable to hold my own, it was that being around so many people was mentally exhausting, especially when they knew who I was. The burden of the legend was heavy.

Still, I needed to replenish my stores and I longed for the comfort of my friends. I hoped Joe and Ruth still lived in this settlement. A formidable-looking palisade of old cars, sharpened sticks and other junk was stacked high, and I stopped before the gate, not too close. I didn't have long to wait.

"What do you want?" The rough voice came from the top of the wall, and belonged to a burly man with a full beard, wearing a grimy green cap. Despite the rifle in his hands, he smelled nervous.

"Food and water, shelter for the night." I knew part of the man's nervousness was the nearness of dusk, when only fools and vamps roamed the land.

"We don't let in strangers," the man called, and I heard him shuck the rifle.

"I am no stranger," I said, and removed my hat, lifted my chin so he could see my red eyes. "You know who I am." It wasn't the way I wanted this to go; I'd wanted to enter quietly, anonymously. Foolish of me.

He sucked in a breath, the rifle sagging in his grip. Impatient, I stepped closer to the gate.

"Open the gate. Now." The man disappeared from sight to speak, I presumed, to those in charge. The back of my neck tingled unpleasantly. Vamps stirred as the sun touched the horizon and began to sink. I did not want to spend the night in this destroyed city; it was riddled with vamps, and worse.

The gate creaked open. I was not as cautious as I should have been, perhaps. I was eager to see Joe and Ruth, eager to relax, eager to be 'normal'. The bearded man closed the gate after me, his face tense.

"Stop right where you are." A group of people stood in a line before me, all armed with various weaponry. The speaker was a woman with brown hair in two braids that hung on either side of her thin face. She was tall for a human, and held her knife like she knew how to use it. The others were a rabble of men and women, mostly young, although one older man wearing a tattered fedora interested me.

"Drop your belongings," she ordered in the tone of one used to being obeyed. I ignored her, addressing my words to the man.

"Joe and Ruth Briarwood. Do they still live here?" I saw the man flinch and quickly recover; why? What did it mean?

Before he could respond the woman stepped closer to me, brandishing her knife.

"We're asking the questions here, freak. Now drop your shit and get down on your knees."

"No, Nadine," the man said, but she ignored him. "Not him."

"You're not in charge, Graham," she said, never taking her eyes from me. That, at least, was smart of her. Unfortunately for her, though, it was the only smart thing. "I don't care who you are, everyone gets searched, everyone gets questioned." She made a hand motion and two burly men approached us. "Sun's Glory," she scoffed. "That's just a made up story." Nadine rolled her eyes. "You're just an albino freak."

I was beginning to regret coming here. All I'd wanted was time with a friend. The men grabbed my arms and I allowed them to push me to my knees. One of them ripped off my backpack and tossed it to the ground. Confident now, Nadine crouched down and riffled through my things. Not satisfied with digging around, she upended the backpack, spilling clothes and various items across the dirt. I had a few keepsakes: my mother's necklace I'd taken from her ashes, a tie belonging to my father that he'd ever worn. And the knife. I knew the moment she found it, because she froze, her face going blank.

She rose slowly to her feet, eyes darting to where I calmly waited, biding my time.

Graham inched closer, clearly intimidated by the large men.

Nadine stared at the blade, disgust washing over her face. I wasn't sure if it was that it was made of human bone that disgusted her, or that this was the only thing of value I carried. At any rate, I was tired of this ridiculousness.

I stood quickly, surprising my two guards. They were even more surprised when I slashed each of their throats with my claws--a 'gift' from my vampiric background and one I rarely used unless necessary. My appearance was mostly human--my red eyes and white hair being the most obvious signs I was part vamp. If one looked close enough--something I actively discouraged--one could see the other signs, such as too long fingers and teeth.

With blood dripping from my hands onto the dusty ground and two corpses at my feet, Nadine appeared to have become a believer. Blubbering, she backed away fast, stumbling, face white. Only Graham, the one who'd tried to stop her, was brave enough to approach.

"Sun's Glory--forgive us." His voice shook yet he looked me straight in the eye.

"Is this how all travelers are welcomed here?" Disdain colored my voice; these people had ransacked my belongings, treated me badly, and now I was supposed to forgive?

"No, please forgive us," he said again, and I shook my head and crouched down to repack my belongings. I felt him watching me, heard the villagers retreat back to their homes. The corpses were left in the dirt.

Finished, I stood and slung my pack over my shoulder. Graham still stood there, as did Nadine. Either she was very brave or just stupid. Wordlessly, she held out the knife in a trembling hand.

I took it and tucked it away in my pack, ignoring both of them while I did so. "Now. Take me to Joe and Ruth Briarwood."

*End of part 1*