How did things go so wrong?  How has it come to this?

After more than two thousand years walking Earth, I thought I was through.  My existence no longer has meaning; I no longer  feel as if I had a purpose.  I had seen and done it all.  What reason did I have to stay?  For the first time in more years than I could remember, I felt no fear with the rising of the sun; I only felt relief and joy that my pain would finally be at an end.

I was a fool.

How could I not consider how badly my True Death would affect my child, my greatest creation?  Why did I think my leaving would not cause him great distress?  I was selfish.  I knew Eric would be the one to be the most affected of my two progenies.  Nora . . . well, Nora had changed.  Gone was the caring, selfless girl I had turned at my son’s request.  Eric had been enamored with her spirit to live and die on her own terms.  While I too admired Nora’s spirit, I was not compelled to turn her; I was not drawn to her as I was Eric.  I only turned her as a gift for my son; if I had not done so, I feared it would have created a rift between us.  I still do not know why Eric did not turn Nora, but it is a moot point now.

I should have considered Eric’s reaction to my leaving.  My son, despite his stoic demeanor, is extremely passionate, fiercely loyal, and above all others, scared.  In  the thousand years of  his existence, Eric has always feared being alone though he would not admit it, not even to himself.  That is why he stayed with me far longer than most progenies stay with their makers.  Oh he would leave for a time, but he would never stray far.  It was only because I commanded him to go his own way that he finally left my side.  It was not long after that when he turned Pamela.  Though I never met her, I felt she was a fitting companion for my child.  She worshipped him as if he  was a god, and she would follow him to the ends of the earth if needed.

Still, I knew Pamela would not be enough to keep Eric going after I met the sun.  Despite loving her, Eric never fully gave  into his emotions around Pamela; he always held part of himself back.  That is why I asked Miss Stackhouse to care for my Eric.  In the brief amount of time I spent with her, I was in awe of her bravery, her willingness to help those in need no matter who they were, and most of all, her compassion.  She truly was a shining beacon of light in the darkness of the night.  I could see that Eric was fascinated by her.  I never knew how he came to be in the Fellowship’s church, but I knew it did not have anything to do with me.  When I had gone to the Fellowship, I had closed my end of the maker/child bond, so I knew Eric’s presence in the church had to do with the partly human woman I had saved.  Yes, I could tell Sookie Stackhouse was mostly human.  Her attractiveness, the light that seemed to shine from within, reminded me of the Fae I had met throughout the years.  However, she lacked the selfishness and deviousness that seemed to surround all Fae.  Perhaps it was because their blood was so diluted in her body.  Even now, I am in awe of her selflessness; it is because of her that I am where I am now.

On the rooftop of the Hotel Carmilla, Sookie Stackhouse had cried for me as I met the sun.  She worried about the pain I would be in; trying to assuage her worries, I told her I only felt joy, but I knew I would feel pain.  All vampires that meet the sun burned slowly; like logs in a fire, we charred on the outside while the inside slowly burned to a crisp.  I did not want Miss Stackhouse to see that; I wanted to shield her from the horror she was about to see.  I cautioned her to stay away from me because I did not want her to be harmed as I felt the smoke rising from my skin.  Her tears and heartfelt good-bye were comforting to me as I felt the sun’s rays caress my skin.  Imagine my surprise when instead of ending up a smoldering pile of ash on the rooftop, I was consumed by blue and white flames that brought me to my current location.

Godric in any of my TB fics

One instant,I’m standing in the sun on the rooftop of the Hotel Carmilla; the next, I am standing in a meadow beside a stream.  The sun is at its highest point in the sky; it is an instinct for me to cover myself and try to find shelter.

“Do not be afraid.  The sun cannot hurt you here.”  A woman, dressed in a flowing white dress, walks towards me, her body and face hidden by the sun’s rays that shine behind her.  I am frozen in place as I stare at her.  Her lips are curved in a welcoming smile as she stands before me.  My lips part slightly as I recognize the woman before me, a woman I have not seen in over two thousand years.

“Mater (Mother)?”  How can this be possible?  My mother was lost to me when I was taken as a slave by the Romans.

My mother smiles fully at me, her hands moving to cup my cheeks.  “All is possible fili mi (my son) if you believe.”

I drop to my knees, overcome with emotion.  Like a little boy, I wrap my arms around my mother’s waist, burying my face into her torso as I sob uncontrollably.  My mother’s arms move around me, comforting me as I release all the pent-up emotions I’ve held inside for so long.  For two thousand years, I have had to be strong; I have needed to be resilient in order to survive.  I have not had the luxury of giving into my emotions, or allowing myself to be comforted by another.  It is very cathartic to finally let go of all the hurt and sorrow I have carried with me for so long.

I pull away after what feels like an eternity, slightly embarrassed to have lost control in such a fashion.  “Do not worry fili mi; I will never judge you,” my mother’s voice is but a whisper on the breeze.

“You would not say that Mater if you knew everything I have done.”  I hang my head in shame as I run through the litany of all my misdeeds throughout my existence.  I feel as if the scales of justice have been broken because of the weight of my many misdeeds; truly I can think of nothing I have done as a vampire that would outweigh all of my selfish actions.

My mother’s gentle hand grasps my chin, forcing me to look into her eyes.  “Godric, I do know everything you have done in your existence.  Since I have come here, I have watched over you.  My heart has hurt for you just as I have shared in your joys.  You are my son, I shall love you always; nothing will change that.”

I am humbled by my mother’s forgiving and loving nature.  I only wish I could find it in myself to forgive me for the things I have done.  Deciding to change the topic of conversation, I look around in wonder at our surroundings.  “Where are we?  Why does the sun not hurt me here?”

Despite all the time that has passed, the sun had not moved from its position in the sky.  I look in wonder at the wildflowers in the meadow around us; many of them are varieties that I have never seen because they only bloom during the day.  The water in the stream continues to flow gently over the rocks, creating a twinkling music in the background.  Strange, I crave the feeling of the cool water against my lips and down my throat.  I find that I want to partake of the water, wanting to enjoy the refreshment and respite that it can provide.

My mother drops to her knees beside me in the grass, twisting so that she reclines on one hip as she looks at me with love in her eyes.  “This place has many names: Heaven, Valhalla, Summerlands, Elysium, are but a few.  I prefer to think of it as home.”

“But why am I here?”  If it is truly the place she speaks of, I have done nothing deserving of this honor.

“You are here for two reasons fili mi.  As much as I love having you here, you do not belong here.  You were never meant to find the afterlife.”  Her look is one of sadness as she gazes towards the stream.

“I do not understand.”  My brow furrows in confusion.  Was I sent here by mistake?  Am I supposed to spend eternity condemned to hell because of all my sins?

“STOP IT!”  The forcefulness of my mother’s voice surprises me.  Her look is fierce and her eyes blaze with anger as she stares at me.  “You have nothing to be ashamed of.”  I glance down so she cannot see the shame in my eyes, but she will not have any of it.  She grabs my face in her hands forcing me to look at her so I can see the sincerity in her eyes.  “Godric, you have done what you needed to do in order to survive.  You were destined for great things.  I knew before you were born that you were destined for something far greater than an ordinary human life.  Everything you have done, everything that has been thrown in your path was supposed to lead you to finding your mate.  And you had found her.”

“WHAT?!?!?!?!”  How is it possible I found my mate and did not recognize her?  Mates are supposed to recognize each other the moment they lay eyes on each other.  What could have possibly gone wrong?  Is my mate now suffering needlessly because of my selfish action?  I feel a heavy burden settling on my chest, squeezing the area around my heart.

My mother looks at me regretfully before glancing towards the stream again.  “I cannot tell you who your mate is Godric; that is something I am not allowed to do.  Knowing now who she is will do nothing but torment you.”

I want to argue with my mother; I have every right to know who I was supposed to spend eternity with.  Mates are a truly sacred phenomenon in the world; when two mates find each other, they are supposed to exist for eternity for one cannot exist without the other.  Mates cannot stand to be separated for great lengths of time; it will cause them to fall physically and emotionally ill.  And if one mate dies, the other will not survive for long.  I feel bereft for having lost something I never even knew I had.

“The other reason you are here is because someone wished it for you.  Someone wished that you would not feel any pain; that you would go to a place where you would find the peace that you seek.  This person wished this both for you as well as for your child.  She wanted to be able to comfort your child, telling him that you did not suffer in your final moments; that you were finally happy.”

“Miss Stackhouse,” I whisper in wonder.  I am truly in awe of the tolerance, generosity, and humanity Sookie Stackhouse has demonstrated to both me and my Eric.  She is the perfect match for Eric; the light to his dark, compassionate to balance his cruelty, humane to his inhumanity.  “She is well-matched for my son.”

Another expression of regret crosses my mother’s face.  “Yes, she would have been if not for the interference of others.”

“What do you mean?”

“Time acts differently here than it does in other realms.  Time for us is nearly at a standstill; there is no day or night, no passing of the hours.  Everything just exists.  For you, it feels as if minutes maybe even an hour has passed since you left your existence on Earth.  In reality, it has been many months, years actually.  Things have not been easy for Eric and Sookie,” she cautions.

“What do you know?  Please, you must tell me!”  I am desperate for her to tell me what has happened to my beloved son.

Sighing, my mother rises from her place in the grass.  She extends her hand to me, indicating that I too should rise.  Once I have risen, she leads me towards the stream.  She stops on the water’s edge, turning to face me with a look of concern on her face.  “Are you sure you wish to know what has happened?  You will not like what you see.”

“Please,” I beg her.

“Very well fili mi,” she says with a resigned sigh before turning back to face the water.  “Stand beside me and look at what life has become for your progeny and the woman he loves.”

I do as commanded of me.  One minute I am looking at the clear blue water of the stream moving over the rocks, the next I am looking into flashes of Eric’s life.

The first scene is of what I assumed is the basement of Fangtasia.  Eric has a woman tied up; I cannot hear any audio, but from the expression on the woman’s face, she is not in any pain.  My child is fucking her, but he is taking no pleasure in it; his expression is cold, indifferent.  That is until he notices Miss Stackhouse standing on the stairs behind him.  He swallows hard, his expression becoming one of regret and longing before schooling his features to turn around to speak with her.  Miss Stackhouse’s expression also interests me; she is both repulsed and aroused by what she sees.  She stiffens her spine and her resolve as he approaches her.  I have no idea what they discuss, but I can tell it is not something that pleases Eric.  He stares after Miss Stackhouse once she flounces off.

The next scene is one of Eric at what looks to be at Miss Stackhouse’s home.  She greets him with a gun in her hand.  I am surprised to discover the absolute squalor she lived in.  What happened to her home?  She did not strike me as the type of person to be so careless with her possessions.  Again there is no audio, but the discussion is a serious one.  My lips do curl into a grin when I see Eric slip into his seduction mode; heavy-lidded eyes, sexy smirk, and he crowds in close to the one he wants.  It’s a look I experienced more than my fair share in my existence and it makes me think of happier times.  However, his expression changes quickly; to one that he knows well, I can tell this is the mask he wears when he is hurt by something.  I wonder what she may have said to him, but that’s when my eye notices the ring on her left hand.  That can only mean the vampire she had been in Dallas with has proposed to her.  He didn’t deserve her; he didn’t see Miss Stackhouse for the extraordinary being she is.  He saw her as a possession, something to be owned and lord over others.  I do not understand what see saw in him, though I can tell from the few times I was in her presence that she did have a tremendous quantity of his blood inside her.  I wonder if she knew how much that influenced her thoughts, feelings, and actions; I am willing to bet that is what prevented Eric from laying claim to her.

Something happens to cause Eric to push Miss Stackhouse against the wall of her home.  There must be danger because his fangs have dropped and his body is rigid with tension.  Whatever he sensed was inside Miss Stackhouse’s home: a werewolf.  Eric and the Were fight; Miss Stackhouse tries to shoot the Were but Eric steps in front of the bullet.  Does he wish her to suck another bullet out of his body?  I must admit that ploy of his in Dallas was an act of desperation.  He desired Miss Stackhouse so greatly that he used her kind nature against her to get his blood in her.  I knew it was sheer folly on his part because she would resent him for his action.  Perhaps that is what prevented her from accepting Eric into her heart.

I am drawn out of my thoughts when I see Eric pin the Were on the floor.  Eric pulls the Were’s hair back to reveal a symbol I have not seen since World War II.  It is the symbol that has haunted Eric since he was a human; the same symbol that the Weres that killed his human parents had on their bodies.  Eric and I had found no trace of the vampire that controlled these Weres after our encounter with that Were bitch during World War II.  I had hoped that the vampire in question had met his True Death during the war.  Eric, however, had not been convinced; it was what led Eric and me to not speaking for several decades.  He could not let go his vengeance against the one responsible for the death of his human family.

Rage the likes of which I haven’t felt in several centuries overcomes me; my child is alone and is facing a foe older than him.  How could I have left him alone to deal with his?  I have endangered my child by leaving him without my protection.  These dark thoughts swirl inside me as the scene shifts again; Eric is standing in a home that I do not recognize.  It is very ornate, decorated by someone with a keen eye for items of worth.  Eric is in what looks to be a study admiring artifacts with another vampire.  Eric is flirting with the vampire, but that makes no sense; other than myself, Eric has never preferred the company of men.  Why would he actively flirt with this vampire?  Eric returns the scrolls he has perused to the cabinet but he freezes when he sees a crown.  The crown is simple in its design, but the carvings are very detailed.  Why does this crown hold Eric’s attention so?

The scene shifts again, but it must be the same evening because Eric and the other vampire are dressed in the same clothes.  The door of the mansion flings open to show Miss Stackhouse being dragged in along with the vampire she belongs to.  But what worries me the most is the vampire standing closest to Eric: Russell Edgington, the mad King of Mississippi.  Dread and fear fill me as I realize that Russell, a 3,000 year old vampire, is likely the one behind the Weres.  The crown, of course!  Eric recognized the crown as being his father’s.  He had told me that the murderers of his parents demanded the crown from his father’s head.  As I continue to watch, Eric grabs Miss Stackhouse and escorts her into the room he had vacated.  They must fight because she is crying and he his fangs are down.  I can make out that he tells her she means nothing to him.  Why does he lie to her?

“Mater,” I whisper as the water swirls again to erase the scene we just watched.  “Please tell me that Eric will be alright, that he finds a way to survive this.”

“Watch fili mi; you will see,” she says gently, squeezing my hand in comfort.

Images flicker past, none as in-depth as what we have previously seen . . . Eric attacking the Queen of Louisiana, Sophie-Anne Leclerq, in Russell’s presence . . . my son, his progeny, and the two monarchs in the basement of Fangtasia with the Magister . . . Russell ending the Magister.  I am confused by all the images I see.  Why is Eric siding with Russell?  The images continue to shift quickly . . . Eric staking a vampire in Russell’s home . . . a confrontation with Miss Stackhouse and her vampire . . . Miss Stackhouse barging into his office in Fangtasia . . . and what must be their first kiss.  My lips split into a smile seeing the passion between the two of them, but it’s quickly erased as I watch Eric chain Miss Stackhouse in the basement.  I snarl and growl as Eric meets with Russell, striking some sort of deal with him.  A deal, I realize, that includes Miss Stackhouse because the next picture is of Eric and Russell taking her hostage . . . them drinking from her . . . and both of them walking into the sun.

“NO!!!!!!!  How can Eric be so foolish?  The Fae cannot grant vampires the ability to daywalk.  It is a myth; the protection lasts only a few hours at the most and that is when draining a full Fae.  With a hybrid, it can only be a few moments at best.  We have to stop him!”

“Godric, there is nothing we can do.  All of this has already happened,” my mother reminds me.

“But . . .” I feel so helpless there must be something I can do.  My child is going to burn.

The images begin moving rapidly again.  Miss Stackhouse drags both Eric and Russell inside.  She gives her blood to heal Eric; he treats her with infinite care once he regains consciousness.  However, she is enraged with all vampires; not that I can blame her.  The next evening, Eric and Compton took a charred Russell Edgington to a construction site and buried him in concrete.

“Why did my child not end him?”  After one thousand years, Eric could finally avenge his family.  Why would he leave their murderer alive?

“He had a vision,” mother begins to tell me.  “In his vision, you came to him saying that everyone finds peace in the afterlife.  Your son did not want Russell to find any type of peace; he believed he did not deserve it after everything he has done.”

“Why does Eric think I came to him in a vision?  And why would he think I said everyone finds peace in the afterlife?  None of this makes sense!”  I stop speaking as I see Compton deceive Eric, pushing him into the wet concrete and then pouring more over him.

“I WILL KILL HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

As soon as the sentiment falls from my lips, the scene changes again.  An encrusted Eric is walking up the steps of Miss Stackhouse’s home.  He must be telling her something heartbreaking because she begins to sob.  Whatever it is my child had to tell her causes her to rescind the invitation of Mr. Compton.  Eric looks positively gleeful to see Miss Stackhouse turn on her beloved vampire.  However, she must turn her ire on him as well.  His demeanor changes as he vamps in front of her; he becomes regretful, and his eyes are burning with his love for her.  But she slams the door on his face.

The image fades away and the water remains still.  “Is that everything that has happened?”  My voice is hoarse.  I feel my child’s pain as if I were standing right beside him; I left him alone when he needed me most.  To know he battled a vampire three times his age and survived is a great testament to his intellect and strength, but he should have never needed to fight it alone.  I should have been by his side as he staked the mother fucker, not interred him in concrete.  That is not a permanent solution and I fear it will come back to haunt him.  As for Miss Stackhouse, I fear he has damaged any chance he may have had with her.  She will never be able to trust him.

My mother chuckles, but it is a hollow sound.  “Godric, I hate to tell you, but that all happened within two months of you meeting the sun.  Life has been very eventful for Eric and Miss Stackhouse.”

The water shimmers again and I do not understand what I am now seeing.  Eric is now walking through Miss Stackhouse’s home, but it has fallen into further disrepair.  He trails his hands along certain things, caressing them as one would caress the body of a lover.  Moving up the stairs, he enters what I assume to be Miss Stackhouse’s room.  He moves to the closet, rifling through the items hanging in there, and pulls out a white dress with red flowers.  The garment must be of great importance to Eric because he clutches it to his chest as tears fall from his eyes.  He curls up on the bed, sobbing uncontrollably with the garment pressed tightly to his chest.

“What has happened to her?”  Anguish fills my voice as the image changes showing construction crews working to restore the house.  What was once a rotting structure looks brand new; something tells me the house has never looked as good as it does even though I am sure it was lovingly cared for.

“The night Eric was covered in cement is the night he told Miss Stackhouse that the Queen of Louisiana had sent Mr. Compton to procure a part-Fae telepath for her.  The entire relationship had been based on a lie.”  My mother’s voice is filled with an icy hatred I have never heard from her before and her hands have curled into fists.  “Miss Stackhouse had been a true innocent until Mr. Compton entered her life.  He abused her in the worst way possible; he took her love and her innocence all on the basis of a lie.  Miss Stackhouse’s grandmother was murdered because Miss Stackhouse was associating with a vampire.  He took everything away from her.”

Panic creeps into my voice hearing that.  “She didn’t do anything rash did she?  Please tell me she didn’t try to kill herself!”  If Miss Stackhouse had ended her life, Eric would never forgive himself.  He would carry the burden with him until the end of his days.  Coupled with my True Death, he may try to seek his own True Death and now that I am not there to command him never to do it.

My mother clasps my hand again, squeezing it in reassurance.  “No fili mi, she did not kill herself; but she did do something rash.  She left to go to the Fae Realm.  She was gone for over a year; though she thought it had only been fifteen minutes.  While she was gone, everyone gave up on her except Eric.  Her brother sold her home; Eric bought it so he could restore it and have it waiting upon her return.  What you saw was the night he took ownership; the dress he is clutching is the dress she wore the night they met.”

“I am scared to see what happens next,” I whisper.

A smile of true joy spreads across my mother’s face, lighting it up in a way the sun never could.  “The next part is the best part of the story.  Be brave Godric and look.”

The water shimmers to reveal a picture of Eric startled out of his daytime rest.  His eyes snap open, and he looks quickly at the time.  Confusion clouds his face until he places a hand over his heart.  His eyes widen and a look of pure joy spreads across his features; I smile with him as I realize that his beloved Miss Stackhouse has returned to him.  She greets both of the vampires interested in her on her front porch.  She recoils from Compton, but she looks baffled by my child.  For once, Eric allows his true emotions to shine through on his face.  He looks at her with love, longing, and sheer awe.  He does not advance towards her but maintains his distance, knowing she would not welcome his closeness.  He smiles at her boyishly before leaving, which leaves her confused.

The images quickly change to one of a naked Miss Stackhouse with her back to Eric. She did not realize he was there, and covers herself quickly.  My son pulls the key for her house from her pocket before advancing on her.  He clearly states that she belongs to him.  Knowing what I did of Miss Stackhouse, I am certain she did not appreciate someone claiming ownership of her; she liked to be independent.

The scene shifts again showing Eric in a store of some kind except there are people gathered in a circle.  I am once again filled with dread as I realize they must be witches.  Witches are to be approached cautiously; while they can be immensely beneficial, they can fuck you over quicker than anyone merely by whispering a few incantations.  Eric attacks one of the members of the group and everything changes in an instant.  The candles flicker as a great wind swirls in the room and Eric’s eyes go blank.  Once the chanting stops, he looks around the room with confusion before vamping out of the room.

“What did they do to him?”  I am really beginning to hate seeing my child’s life through these images.  I feel impotent as I stand here; helpless that I am unable to do anything to help him, guide him, and most importantly, love him.  What have I done by giving up my existence?

“They bewitched him; they removed his memories from him,” my mother answers as an image of Eric walking down a dark road moves into focus.  He is stopped by someone in a car that should have been in the junk yard twenty years ago: it is Sookie.  Eric looks absolutely lost; he lacks the confidence that has always surrounded him. The image shifts again to showing Eric, wrapped in a blanket, sitting on the couch in the home he purchased for Miss Stackhouse with his feet in a basin of water.  Miss Stackhouse kneels at his feet, cleaning the dirt and blood from his wounds.  Something causes her to smile shyly at him.  The scene shifts again showing her where he can stay in the home.  I cannot help but laugh at seeing my progeny in shorts and a sleeveless hoodie.  Eric in his right mind would have never been seen wearing something so hideous; but I sober quickly as I realize he is not in his right mind.

The images flicker quickly again . . . Miss Stackhouse searching for Eric . . . Eric draining a fairy . . . Miss Stackhouse searching for Eric and finding him during the daytime swimming in a pond . . . the sun beginning to burn his alabaster skin . . . Eric sitting in his room with a quilt around him as the object of his affections checks him for injuries.  Another image slides by of the two of them talking in his room before Eric moves in to kiss her. That quickly morphs into Eric walking away from the house, dejected and alone.  The next scene is of him walking up the steps to Miss Stackhouse’s waiting arms.  He folds her closely into him as she kisses along his cheek before they end up kissing passionately.

“They found their way to each other,” I say with satisfaction.  I am buoyed by the knowledge that my son and his mate have finally found a way to be together.  They are perfect for each other.  I feel myself relaxing knowing that Eric is going to be alright.

“Yes, they did find their way to each other.”  A wistful smile crosses my mother’s face as the next image floats by.  Eric and his beloved wrapped in each other’s arms in bed . . . Eric in his room covered in silver as Miss Stackhouse lays beside him . . . Eric and Miss Stackhouse exchanging blood.  He began a blood bond with her?  Even lacking his memories, Eric knew she was important to him.  However, the joy I feel slowly fades as the images keeping coming.  The two of them standing in a cemetery with others facing off against the witches . . . Miss Stackhouse shot while Eric falls under the witch’s spell again . . .Eric attacking Miss Stackhouse’s former lover.  She shoots him with a ball of light to stop the attack; the light does not harm Eric, which is something I do not understand.

“Her light was not meant to harm him; she intended it to heal him,” my mother answers before I can question her.  “And it did heal him; it returned his memories.”  Why does my mother’s tone of voice imply that is not a good thing for my progeny and the woman he loves?

“Eric admitted to Miss Stackhouse that he loved her, even with his memories.  He told her that the Eric she fell in love with was still inside him; that he was just ‘more’.  But Miss Stackhouse was scared and confused I think.  You see, when she had been shot, Mr. Compton,” my mother says his name with complete and utter disgust, “managed to get more of his blood inside her. She began to question her feelings, wondering if she truly loved them or if it was the blood.  She spurned both of them,” my mother tells me sadly.

My poor Eric . . . he must be so desolate.  To finally admit he loved Miss Stackhouse, to finally have her as his, and then she rejects him.  What could she have been thinking?!?!?!?!  And to be blood bound to someone that spurned him, I can only imagine the rage that my son must have felt.  I do not understand; they were perfect for one another.  What happened?

“Do not judge Miss Stackhouse too harshly,” my mother counsels me gently.  “There are forces at work preventing the two of them from being together.  Look, fili mi, though the images are not pleasant ones.”

I do not understand what I am seeing; the images fade in and out so quickly that I cannot make sense of anything.  Eric on his knees . . . Nora forcing Eric to drink some type of blood . . . Eric begging for something . . . Russell Edgington finally staked by my child as he should have been . . . Eric and Miss Stackhouse covered in blood . . .Eric battling with Mr. Compton . . . what does it all mean?

Before I can ask any of the questions running through my mind, the images begin to change more frequently.  Eric and Sookie standing with a piece of paper between them . . . Eric kneeling before a dark haired girl in a grave . . . Eric and Pam facing off against one another in blue suits in a starkly lit white room . . . Eric holding a weakened Nora . . . Eric crying brokenly as Nora turns to a pile of goo in his arms . . .  a bloody Eric attacking people inside of a building . . . freeing other vampires and walking with them in daylight?!?!?!?!?!

“Mater,” I exclaim in utter horror, “what has happened in my absence?”

She sighs deeply before turning to me.  The image of Eric and other vampires walking in the sun is the last image I see.  The stream is once again cool, clear water moving swiftly.  I am completely baffled by what I have been shown.  Is there any way I could have prevented this?

“Does it really matter?  You chose to leave after all.”  I am shocked by the words that come from my mother; she sounds so cold and callous.  “Besides, it is not the past that should concern you.  It is what is going on this very minute you should worry about.”  With a wave of her fingers, the stream once again changes to show me an image of my beloved son.  The image is quite possibly the most shocking of any she has shown me thus far.

“ERIC?!?!?!?!?!”  My child is sitting nude in a lounge chair reading a book . . .  IN BROAD DAYLIGHT.  “Mater, what is he doing????  We have to stop him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”  I am frantic to get to my child.

“Eric is fine.  He has the blood of an ancient fairy vampire hybrid that enables him to walk in the sun permanently . . . or so he thinks.”

A second image appears beside the image of Eric reading his book.  Two of the three individuals in the image I do not recognize but the third is Jason Stackhouse, Miss Stackhouse’s confused, but well-intended brother.  He is staking a vampire, but the stake has no effect on him.  How is it that a vampire can survive being staked through the heart?  The image expands to show Miss Stackhouse slumped against the wall of what is a bathroom.  She uses her light to bind the stake to the vampire’s heart, which causes the vampire to turn into a pile of goo and dust . . . This must be the fairy/vampire hybrid Mater spoke of!  But if dies, what will that do to Eric?

As if the Gods heard my question, Eric’s skin begins to smoke.  I watch in horror as Eric’s body becomes engulfed in flames.  Why is this happening?!?!?!?!?!  A vampire never burns like this; what is causing my progeny to burn so quickly?  The images shift to focus solely on Eric and Miss Stackhouse, who is screaming on the floor in agony.  What has happened to her?  She is not injured . . . THE BLOOD BOND?!?!?!?!?!  She is dying because her mate is dying.

“Mater, please,” I beg as tears fall down my face, “we have to do something!  We have to help them!”

“There is nothing I can do fili mi.”

“Please Mater; I would do ANYTHING to save my son and his mate!  Please, I beg of you to save them.”

“Godric, fili mi, there is nothing I can do,” she tells me gently.  She cups my face in her hands as I sob for the two dying people before me.  “But there is something you can do, if you are willing to make the sacrifice.”

“Tell me, Mater!  I need to save them!”

“You have to go back Godric; you need to undo all the wrong that has happened.  Are you willing to do that?”

“Yes, Mater.  I wish . . .”

Celeste stands in the meadow by the stream; the images shown to Godric are no more.  Instead, three images appear to her: Sookie Stackhouse weeping in the arms of her grandmother, a longer-haired Eric rising suddenly from his daytime rest, and her beloved son Godric asleep in Dallas residence.  Godric will have no memories of his time with her in the meadow, but it is for the best.  The three of them have been sent back to a time where they can prevent the mistakes that resulted in their deaths; a time when they will be able to recognize that they are destined to be mates.

Celeste watches the images for a moment with a tear falling down her face.  “Good-bye fili mi.  May you find your happiness; that is all I want.”