Chapter 2: At the Head of the Trail

I stretched my legs in the Transylvanian airport’s lobby, having flown several hours from San Francisco to the very heart of the myth. I was pretty sure he would no longer be in the place of his youth, but I was also sure there would be clues as to where he might be now. I looked through the tourist traps first, hoping to catch some locals trying to spook the new comers. I found a lot of such places but few were the correct version. Most were of Vladimir, chosen for their goriness, chosen to get a reaction. But soon I got deeper into the city, finding more true stories. Until I came upon a group of children. The leader, a boy close to 12 in age was telling them a story. A mix between the correct, and of Vlad. As he came to one of the gorier sections a young girl finally got fed up. “That’s not right, and you know it, Haden. Da told us the story a million times! In the beginning he just wants her to use her, but as time goes on he begins to love her! No mess, just love. He begs her to join him, but her family intervenes and they are separated until she admits her own feelings. You know dad hates it when people tell it wrong, what would he say if he were--” “Can it, Eloise! This is my story!” “Hold up a second.” I said. It had seemed, smelled rather, like it was about to come to blows between the children. The boy and most of the group ran, but little Eloise stayed. She looked to be about the same age as the boy, but their features were almost opposites. While he had been darker haired and stocky, she was slender and had hair the color of caramel. “Hey there,” I said, “you told them off pretty good. Nice job.” I smiled. “My name’s Akira. Would you mind showing me around?” She smiled back, “My name’s Eloise. Why do you think I can guide you? I’m only eleven, after all.” “Well, I just happened to notice that you’ve got your history down. That and you seem like the type who might enjoy a little time away from it all.” She smiled up at me again, grabbed my hand, and we ran into the fading sunset. *********************************************************************************************************************************************************** As I sat in the warm belfry of St. Micheal’s, sharing my lodgings with nothing but birds and bats, I remembered. First came this afternoon. I remembered taking Eloise to a commonly loved ice cream parlor. We’d both picked chocolate waffle cones, her eyes lighting up when I actually asked what she’d wanted. Then, after seeing the normal tourist attractions, she took me to see her dad, the infamous storyteller. He’d looked me over, then scolded little Eloise for bringing me. It wasn’t a whole hearted scolding though, because Eloise told him why she’d brought me to him. He was angry that his own son would even consider telling the Vladness. When she was done, he hugged her and sent her to find her brother and make him come home, so I was left alone with the ragged old man. His dark hair, so much like his sons, was like a mane around his balding head, and his arms were pock-marked with scars that seemed as endless as the stars in the sky. He beckoned me to sit across from him near the fire. For what seemed like hours, we said nothing. We just searched each other’s eyes for the truth. But at some point we both must have figured out that the stories behind our eyes were both in turn to long and numerous to be found without words. Finally he spoke. “So,” he murmured, his voice reflecting the tones of a mighty mountain, “Why have you come? Do you merely seek a story? Or is there some tale behind your travel? Shall I know…Maybe.” He looked at me once more, and jumped into the exact tales I wanted to hear, those of the illustrious Dracula, and where he might be. The tales went on for hours, until we were interrupted by the homecomings of his children. He asked if I would stay for dinner, so that I might share my own stories. And so I did. I stayed up much longer into the night than I was used to, telling what I remembered. “When I was young I was not so settled as I am now, and so would wander, finding places not seen by eyes often, places mostly found and lost by accident. One such place had golden arches, and sapphire waters, I had come there by…” It went like that until I could see the older fellow beginning to fall under sleeps spell against his will, him being interested about those places I did wander through. It was false dawn. I asked him one more question before I had to leave, one that would be crucial to my quest. “Tell me, do you know where he went from here?” The Storyteller smiled, “ And so the story begins.” He looked up at me with questioning grey eyes. “I’m sorry, I don’t know for sure where he went after here. Dracula was a mysterious man. Though…” He looked over my shoulder, an amused look on his surprisingly smooth face, “There have been tales. You might look in Germany.” I looked in his face, still seeing, not to mention smelling, his amusement. It was like lilies in the morning dew, sweet and strange. “Thank you. Would you like to know why I asked?” I asked this last question as I turned away. I turned my head to see him nod. As I reached the door, I said simply. “I seek him.” Then, I turned, and ran into the night.

Reviews

[Hot-N-Cold_17]

oh my goodness i am loving this even more as I read it I love this and the way the chapter ended was really good nice work. keep writing