Zeuberg

"My legal name where I currently reside in the city of Liege, Belgium, is Gaspar Valessi. But that is not my real name. The name I was given some 30,000 years ago, when I was born in a Paleolithic settlement in the region that is now called Germany - the name my father gave me shortly after I was voided, bloody and howling, from my mother's womb - is Gon."

So begins the saga of the immortal Gon, a 30,000 year-old vampire. He recounts his mortal life in prehistoric Germany alongside his male companion, Brulde, and his two wives, the Neanderthal Eyya and his Cro-Magnon mate, Nyala. It details the fearsome events that lead to his transformation from man to undying monster.

Chronicles Of An Ancient Vampire

Tapas embraced me as we parted. "Fare well, T'sukuru," he said. "Know that you will always be welcome in the lands of the Vis'hantu."

The giant plucked his torch from the ground and turned away, stormwinds tossing his frizzy red hair. I watched the big man walk back to the Neirie camp, the news he had brought me still bouncing around inside my skull.

Ilio, to be a father? I marveled.

The Oombai Elders had sent slave women to see to our ease when we first arrived at the village of the ground scratchers. It was just a ploy to get some of my T'sukuru blood, of course, and we had played right into their hands. Allowed ourselves to be distracted, seduced. Ilio had mated with two of them while I was occupied with the third-- their doomed sister, Aioa. He was still mortal then, a fecund man-child, his bow nocked and ready.

Ilio, a father! I thought, amused.

It seemed too soon for the woman to know she was with child, but then again, I did tend to lose track of time. It was midsummer now. An entire season had passed since we came down from the mountains. We had been trailing after the Neirie for weeks. Plenty of time for her belly to grow.

Truth be told, the news that Tapas just delivered pleased me to no end. As the giant's massive figure dwindled into the night, I stood in the darkness trying to contain my excitement.

From the moment I'd adopted the young mammoth hunter, it had been my ambition to give the lad a normal mortal life. The Oombai Elders had spoiled my plans, but not—as it turned out—without hope of redemption. If this Neirie woman carried his child to term, delivered it without complication, my son might yet know the joys of fatherhood-- a family, perhaps even a wife!

It would not be a simple thing. He would have to master his thirst for human blood to be able to enjoy any kind of interaction with his mortal offspring, but he did not seem to be ruled by his hunger as desperately as I was when I was first made into a blood drinker. In fact, he already seemed to have a firmer grasp on his lethal impulses than I ever had!

Perhaps it was because he was weaker than I, more human-like. Perhaps his will was stronger than mine. Or maybe I was just more self-indulgent. Whatever the reason, I could easily imagine him living alongside a human wife and child, having something very like a natural mortal life—despite the stumbling blocks fate had seen fit to throw beneath the lad's feet.

Of course, it was possible the Neirie woman might miscarry. Both mother and child might die during childbirth. It was not uncommon.

Perhaps it would be wise to keep this news from him. If anything were to happen to either of them, the lad would be devastated.

I knew I couldn't do that, however. I wouldn't want someone to keep news like that from me, not even out of love.

Ilio... a father! I mused one more time, and then I went to find my fertile little brat.

Chapter 135 - Ilio part 2