No matter how many times Arthur did it, waking up underwater was always a bit unsettling. He sat up in the shallow pool and shook the water from his curly hair, giving his body a moment to remember to start breathing again. For some of his younger brothers, this reawakening process could take several minutes. Arthur, however, was on his feet and walking toward the end of the Sleep Pool in a matter of seconds.
The majority of the Clade was now sleeping beneath the shallow water, resting up for the Crucible ceremony that evening. In this state, submerged and motionless, their heartbeats synchronized to the same slow rhythm. This was one of those rare times when Arthur sensed his brothers not as a cacophony of individual heartbeats and emotions, but as one peaceful entity. He stepped out of the pool and hesitated. A lone erratic pulse stood out from the steady hum of the Clade, coming from somewhere above the chamber. It was weak, but rapid – human.
Arthur took a frayed, black terrycloth robe (one of the few vestiges of his life before the Clade that he allowed himself to keep) from a metal hook on the wall. He wrapped the robe around his body before stepping through the open doorway and up a narrow concrete staircase.
Two flights up, the stairwell opened into a long corridor lined with a series of doorways. Decades before, these had led to factory offices. With little need for privacy, the Clade had replaced the broken or missing doors with fabric of various colors and textures, ranging from the dramatic red velvet curtain in the first doorway to the polka dot bedsheet hanging in the last. Arthur paused. The frantic heartbeat was close, as well as the faint smell of human sweat. Together, these things added up to a nervous initiate.
Arthur pushed aside the velvet curtain and stepped through the first doorway. Unlike the crumbling industrial surfaces of most of the plant, the interior of this small room was designed for comfort. Clusters of tall candles in the corners cast a warm glow on the suede wall covering and the white faux fur rug that covered the majority of the concrete floor.
In the center of the room, a young blond man lay face-up on a pile of cushions. He wore gray fleece shorts that looked darker against his pale skin. His eyes were closed, but Arthur knew he was awake.
“Kyle,” Arthur said, kneeling on the floor.
The young man opened his eyes.
“Hello, Arthur, Sir”
Arthur placed a hand on the blonde man’s shoulder.
“Please,” he said. “Don’t ever call me ‘Sir’ again.”
“I’m sorry,” Kyle said sitting up on the cushions.
“After tonight, we’re going to be brothers,” Arthur reminded him.
“I know,” Kyle said. “I’ve been looking forward to my Crucible ceremony for weeks, but now that it’s almost here …”
“You’re nervous,” Arthur said.
“I know I shouldn’t be,” Kyle said. “Marco has been preparing me for months.”
“It’s natural,” Arthur assured him. “You start a whole new life tonight.”
At just over nineteen, Kyle was the youngest initiate in the Clade’s history, and with his fair skin and big blue eyes, he looked even younger. Although Marco vouched for his initiate’s commitment and maturity, there had still been some argument among the brothers over whether Kyle was old enough to join them. In the end, Arthur remembered that he had faced the same issue when he brought Marco (only 23 himself) into the Clade two years earlier.
Arthur took the young man’s hand. He had been told on more than one occasion that his demeanor often made him appear less than warm, so this small physical gesture was his way of cutting through that perception.
“Kyle,” he began. “I trust Marco’s judgment completely, and I know how much he cares about you. However, I need to hear this directly from you. Are you positive that this is what you want? Have you thought about the life that you’ll be sacrificing in order to start your life with us?”
“I may be a little nervous, but that doesn’t mean I have any doubts,” Kyle answered. “I absolutely want this.”
Arthur smiled.
“Do you have any questions for me? Anything that Marco didn’t cover with you?”
“Well,” Kyle said, “I know that the Crucible isn’t just a ceremony, that there is risk involved…”
“True,” Arthur said. “We call it a Crucible, a trial by fire, for a reason. At the end of it, you’ll emerge as a member of the Clade…”
“Or I won’t emerge at all,” Kyle said. “That’s where the nervousness comes in.”
“That’s not going to happen, Kyle.”
“Don’t get wrong,” Kyle continued, “I think that being a member of the Clade is worth dying for, but I can’t help worrying that I won’t pass.”
“It isn’t an exam,” Arthur said.
“But if it doesn’t work and the Crucible doesn’t turn me into a vampire…”
Arthur shook his head.
“It’s important that you understand this, Kyle,” he said. “No one can turn you into a vampire.”
Kyle frowned, confused. Arthur curled his lips upward, exposing his elongated canines.
“I didn’t always have these fangs,” he explained, “but they have always been my birthright.”
“I don’t understand,” Kyle said. “I thought that the whole point of the Crucible was for the brothers to fuse their blood with mine, so that I’ll become a vampire.”
“Not exactly,” Arthur explained. “You can’t be infected with vampirism, it isn’t a disease that you can catch. Fusion with one of us doesn’t ‘give’ you vampirism , it only awakens the vampire gene that is already encoded in your DNA.”
“So, there are people walking around with vampire genes who don’t even know it?” Kyle asked.
“I believe that the gene makes itself known in a number of subtle ways,” Arthur explained. “Things like extreme food allergies, hard-to-diagnose muscle conditions, or so-called “failure to thrive” – any of these could really be the result of a genetically encoded thirst that is never quenched.”
“You’re telling me that my Aunt Freda’s celiac disease is just her gene’s way of telling us that she’s a vampire?”
“Maybe,” Arthur said. “But I also believe that the gene wants us to reach our full potential – it wants to be awakened. Vampires and potential vampires will eventually be drawn to one another in order for that to happen. Remember how you felt the first time you saw Marco?”
“Electricity,” Kyle answered. “That all makes sense, I guess. But, where did the gene come from – who was the first vampire?”
“I don’t know,” Arthur admitted. “I have my theories, but nothing concrete enough to say out loud just yet.”
Kyle started to speak, but hesitated.
“I know what you want to ask,” Arthur said. “What happens if someone without the vampire gene fuses with a vampire? The human circulatory system is amazing, but vulnerable. It can’t handle vampire blood. But you don’t have to worry about that, Kyle. Marco would never have brought you to this point if he wasn’t absolutely confident, nor would I have allowed it.”
“Thanks,” Kyle said. “But that wasn’t my question.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
“Marco calls you the First because you started the Clade,” Kyle said. “So you ‘awakened’ the first members with your blood.”
“That’s correct.”
“So whose blood did you fuse with?” Kyle asked. “If you’re the First, then who awakened you?”
The Blue 