Aishe's Turn

"Kem..." Aishe's thoughts revolved around the one word as her feet took her into Nachton. She knew where she was heading, mostly. She wasn't sure what she'd find when she got there, but she did know who.

Vampires.

Lots of 'em.

Perfect.

She remembered how it had happened. Stopping on the side of the road, hiking her backpack up a bit on both shoulders, she closed her eyes as a cool breeze sifted her black hair over them.

She was on a dig. Not just any dig, but the one she'd always wanted to be on. She'd been invited to Egypt, her birthplace, with an old professor of hers to study hierogplyphics. She had been there for three months, and her excavation had yeilded more information than she'd have thought possible. She was finding scraps of stone etchings that she was certain would date back to the early AD. She was looking for that break, the tiny crack of time where hieroglyphs lost and Roman script won.

It was late; The sun had dipped below the horizon and the sky was turning ruddy orange. Aishe was only here at the site because she had special permission. When darkness finally made it impossible for her to continue, she packed her things and started to head back along the streets to the rented house she shared with Dr. Montrose and two other former students, like herself.

She saw the man before he saw her. He was standing at the edge of the Nile, that river so impossibly wide it dominated the landscape. She would have missed him completely but for the fact that he had a shock of silvery-blond hair that caught all the moonlight as he turned his head. She waved, and was about to move on, when he turned and walked her way.

Aishe wasn't afraid; somehow she had the feeling this man wasn't about to rob or rape her. As he approached, she noticed that although his hair was nearly white, his face didn't seem that old.

"These streets aren't always safe at night," he said in unaccented Egyptian. "A lady shouldn't be out so late."

Aishe noticed the way he walked; although he was at least a foot taller than she, he moved with fluid grace, in an unhurried gait that was almost on the slow side. Even when he spoke, there was an air of culture about him, and... something else.

"What were you doing down there?" she asked him in the same language, her curiosity winning for the moment.

He looked at her closely. "Watching the river," he finally replied. "Doesn't it fascinate you?"

She liked his face; it was finely sculpted, certainly not what anyone would ever call 'ruggedly' masculine, but there was no denying he was male. His eyes were as pale as the rest of him from what she could see, almond-shaped as hers were, framed with silvery lashes. His nose was straight and perhaps a little prominent, but it only gave him a somewhat hawkish appearance.

Pulling herself away from the little scrutiny she could give in the twilight, she looked down at the Nile, so close to where they stood. She nodded uncertainly.

He turned back, facing the water that glittered in the starlight. "It's always moving," he said softly. "You'd think once in a while it might stop and take a break, but no. It's been there for centuries. Thousands of years."

Aishe tried to see it that way. "I'm sure it's altered its course once or twice over the years," she said. "Rivers do, you know."

He looked down at her, and she got the impression he was amused. "They do," he agreed. "But even then, the waters keep flowing. I wonder why they don't get tired. Wouldn't you?"

"Get tired?"

He nodded, silvery hair shimmering like a starfall.

Aishe considered it. Then, she shook her head thoughtfully. "No. I don't think I would. I wouldn't mind that, going on as the Nile's gone on, seeing everything change around me, watching civilizations come and go."

"While everyone around you grows old, bleeds, and dies," the man added pensively.

They stood there for minutes, watching the water.

"Who are you?" Aishe asked.

"Kem," was his simple answer.

"Aishe," she said, smiling up at him. "Do you live here? In Egypt?"

His brow furrowed slightly. "I'm visiting from America," he replied. "I was... born here. I guess you could say I've come home."

Aishe beamed. "I'm from America too," she said, in English. "My parents moved from here with me when I was twelve."

He actually bowed to her. "Pleased to meet you."

And he was, she remembered. They saw each other often after that. Kem was fun to talk to. He had unique views, and he knew a lot about well... everything. She had never asked too much about him, but he volunteered that he'd made some money through investments and now had the time and the means to travel, so he thought he'd do just that. She'd wondered, privately, if it was because he was so sickly.

Aishe didn't know how else to describe it. He was thin, pale, lacked energy. Oh, he never really seemed to be in any real distress, but to her he just always seemed to be somewhat... incomplete. She saw him almost every night while she was in Egypt. He made a habit of waiting for her by the river. They talked there often; sometimes he'd have dinner with him in a basket from one of the local shops, and they'd picnic under the moonlight.

It was during that time when she'd found some old hieroglyphs, older than anything she'd ever found. They weren't from the time period she wanted, so initially she'd set them aside. When she finally got back to them however, she realized there were some strange signs there she'd never encountered.

Days and days spent poring over the stone plaques soon began telling a story she could barely believe. It was a trial, an ancient trial. It revolved around a man who'd killed his sister's abusive husband. The revenge was a crime; in those days, women could be treated that way legally... the husband had every right to beat her. This man, though, had taken revenge and slain his brother-in-law. Failing to escape the pharoah's soldiers, he was brought before him to face judgment; the man he'd killed was of noble rank.

All of the sister's pleas fell on deaf ears. The man was sentenced to suffer eternal damnation of the soul. The glyphs were vague after this; Aishe could make out certain ritual symbols but most of them she'd never come across. The result though, was the man's transformation into some kind of strange monster. Vampire, a corner of her mind whispered. That's what he... it... looks like now.

The man was driven out of town by an angry mob, and from there on the glyphs continued to describe the ritual. Aishe was excited; she'd never found anything so interesting in her life. She wanted to tell Kem.

But when she related the news to a somewhat lacklustre Kem, he simply lifted one shoulder.

"Stories," he said. "Someone wanted to scare their children into bad behavior." His voice was tight.

Aishe touched his arm gently, and he started a bit. "Are you all right, Kem?"

He turned his pale grey eyes on her. "I'm fine. Don't worry about me." He gave her one of his half-smiles and looked back out over the river.

Two more months had passed, and everyone in their small city had seen the two Americans walking hand in hand by the river each night. Dr. Montrose had never said anything, for Aishe's studies were fruitful. By day she scoured texts and documents for clues to the meaning of the strange ritual. By night she met with Kem, sitting by the river or walking through the quiet streets.

When she returned to America, she'd met Kem here as well. He lived not far from her, a few hours by car. They met often, spending entire nights out at a time, sleeping during the day and meeting up again for another long night. Kem was refreshing to talk to, and although she had begun to feel for him very deeply, they never did anything but hold hands.

Aishe couldn't help but notice Kem's deteriorating health. Every time they met, he seemed even leaner and paler than the time before. It wasn't long after their return to the States when she began to put all the facts together.

He's pale, he never comes out by day. He was born there, and those sharp little teeth of his...

She tried to deny it in her head, but the litany continued...

He has wisdom beyond his years, and years beyond his looks. He won't let you get too close. It is possible? Is that what he really is?

It took her a long time to come to terms with it, and during that time she said nothing, but studied him quietly. When all was said and done, she could find no wrong in him. She loved him.

The day she came to that realization was the day things changed. She had gone walking with Kem, but he was lagging behind. He looked even wearier than usual and although he still talked to her with interest and animation, weakness practically seeped from his every pore.

Finally she dragged him off of the park trail they were on, into a glade steeped in moonlight. They weren't supposed to be here to begin with, but where else could one hike when one's partner was a vampire?

Kem hadn't resisted; Aishe suspected he couldn't have put up much of a fight anyway. She sat on the grass and pulled him down with her. Reaching up, she touched his cheek gently.

"Why don't you say what you need to say?" she asked. The nighttime noises of the parkland had faded; not even a cicada dared to chirp.

Kem's eyes met hers. "I don't want you to have to deal with it," he answered.

Aishe shrugged. "I've already dealt with it. I've made my peace. Have you not made yours after all these years?"

"You know what I am," Kem said, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

"Was it you?" she questioned softly. "Those hieroglyphs... are you truly that old?"

He stared into the distance, seeing things she knew she'd never see herself. He nodded slowly. "That was me. A very long time ago."

"I've been reading," Aishe said. "I do know what you are."

"I knew it was only a matter of time," Kem admitted.

"I know who you are, too," Aishe continued, "and it conflicts with the what, doesn't it."

Without waiting for an answer she drew the blade of her pocket knife across her wrist, having palmed it into her hand before they sat down. The cut wasn't deep enough to kill her, but it bled freely. She saw Kem's eyes grow wide.

"Aishe, what is this?"

She speechlessly held her wrist to his mouth. "If you don't, if I have to force you, you'll only hurt me."

She had more leverage then he from where they were. He tried to turn away, but she pinned down one of his hands with her knee and kept him from moving very far with her free arm.

It was a caress, at first. Then it was more. It was indescribable, it was euphoria. Kem's hands brushed the skin of her arm and then, almost hesitantly, gripped harder as the need to sustain himself overcame his reluctance to do so. What could have been pain for Aishe was, instead, blinding pleasure.

It didn't last long. Aishe bandaged her wrist; Kem sat slumped over his own knees. When she wriggled her way under his arm, he didn't push her away. But it took a very long time before he pulled her close.

Aishe scowled at the city ahead of her. "Run away from me now, will you?" she muttered darkly. "Coward."

She knew he'd come here. He'd told her enough about it for her to figure it out. His guilt had driven him away. He couldn't live off of her, he'd written. He couldn't bring her into it any more than he already had. He couldn't give her any kind of a life, when he himself had none.

Aishe laughed humorlessly. "Let's even the playing ground," she said to no one in particular.

"I'll give you someone you can live with, Kem'Raaisu. Nightmare." She had thought it over. She knew what she was doing. "Nightmare," she repeated, the translation of the name he'd taken for himself so long ago. Aishe shook her head. "No longer. You won't be alone anymore."

This was where she had meant to come. This was where she would find someone who could put her on even terms with Kem, and perhaps Kem himself was still here as well. She looked at the lights again, and murmured the one word she had that might lead her to him. "Evenhet."

She walked forward again. "I'm ready, Kem'Raaisu," she said. "Only this time, I'll be the same as you."