"I feel at ease seeing you as usual," Abraham Lincoln remarked, his voice carrying the weight of years filled with both triumph and turmoil. "After all the hatred—both from within and without—after the war, and the bitterness that lingers in its wake... If it weren't for you and your people making me trust, I don't know how many times I would've been a mere footnote in history."
Abraham Lincoln, having retired from the presidency, found himself wrestling with ghosts of the past. The Civil War had ended, the South had surrendered, and yet the undercurrents of hate, resentment, and political discord still echoed through the country. It was clear that though victory was won, peace was yet to be achieved.
The assassination attempt on Lincoln, orchestrated by those loyal to the Confederate cause, had been narrowly thwarted by Jack, the stalwart family guard captain sent by James, Lincoln's trusted ally. However, even with the Southern rebellion crushed, the next four years would not be easy.
Had Lincoln perished after the war—assassinated by Confederate loyalists—the narrative of his legacy would have been written in the most tragic and heroic tones. His death would have united the country in sorrow, with the Union's victory underlined by the martyrdom of their leader. The South's plantation owners, though despising the Union's victory, would have felt their own revenge tempered by the collective mourning of a nation. Perhaps, in his death, Lincoln would have become a myth, a legend for generations to come.
But he lived. And that survival carried its own burdens. He became the target of relentless hatred from former Confederates, an outcast in the eyes of those who had once praised his leadership. While white America turned their back on him, the freed slaves struggled to carve out lives of dignity and opportunity in a nation that was still learning how to reckon with its sins.
During his tenure, President Lincoln faced numerous assassination attempts, each narrowly avoided through the intervention of James, who, understanding the stakes of history, ensured Lincoln's safety with the help of the Howlett family's private forces. It was this personal, untold protection that kept Lincoln alive when he might have otherwise fallen victim to forces beyond his control.
"You know, when you were president, you had the protection of the nation's highest office," James mused, sitting back lazily on the sofa with a cigar in hand. "But now, you're a former president. People think they can do anything they want. And trust me, some of them would."
Daniel, another of James' companions, poured whiskey into his glass and added his thoughts. "Your temperament has changed, James. There's a lightness to you now, something that wasn't there before."
James smirked, tapping the cigar against the edge of the ashtray. "Sounds like a good thing," he said, not taking the remark too seriously. It had been years since he last wrestled with the monster inside him, the vampire power that had once threatened to overtake him. Now, free from that dark influence, he could finally enjoy life without the constant fear of becoming a slave to his own power.
"Exactly. You're not so burdened by the weight of the world anymore," Daniel continued, chuckling. "Almost like a different person."
James nodded, his thoughts drifting. Five years had passed since he'd rid himself of the vampire origin blood that had once coursed through his veins, a process that left him physically different. His body, once unnaturally large and imposing, had returned to a more manageable form. At over 6'3" now, James appeared more natural, though his muscles remained formidable, a testament to the disciplined life he had led. His long hair flowed freely, his sharp features softened slightly by time but still exuding a raw, masculine energy.
But despite the changes in his physical form, it wasn't just his body that had evolved. The years had allowed him to grow emotionally, to free himself from the turmoil that had once defined him. The Howlett family's aging butler, Wayne, now devoted himself solely to maintaining the family estate, while his son, Casper, took on more responsibilities in the family business. Daniel, ever the wanderer, had returned to Europe after several years of travel. And while he had settled down, with a charming French wife and children, his restless spirit had never fully been tamed.
As for Abraham Lincoln, his life in retirement had been quieter than the turbulent years he had spent as president. He spent his time writing, working on essays about civil rights and the role of law in a post-slavery America. James had even helped his younger sons get into college in New York, encouraging them to take a path of intellectual and personal growth.
Despite the challenges of old age, Lincoln harbored a deep desire to revisit the places of his past—the humble beginnings in Kentucky, the days spent in Indiana, and the years he spent in Illinois, where he met and married Mary, and where his public career began.
James, ever loyal, had accompanied him on these travels. Together, they had explored the diverse realities of the United States, seeing first-hand the remnants of the divided nation. Finally, Lincoln returned to Washington, knowing his time was drawing near. He wished to die peacefully, at home, on his own terms. And so he did—quietly and without the fanfare of assassination, but with a peace that eluded him during the height of his presidency.
The Howlett family, in the wake of their patriarch's death, made strides in the technological world. The breakthrough in gasoline combustion engines marked a new era in industry, transforming the landscape of human capital and industry in the late 19th century. James, always forward-thinking, found himself reflecting on the changes in the world around him as he sailed across the Mediterranean Sea. The vast and powerful shifts in technology were starting to mirror the modern life he had once known.
Years of academic pursuits across Europe had also come to an end for James. His time spent at some of the world's most prestigious universities had given him an intellectual grounding in the histories of civilizations long past. From Oxford to Cambridge, from Munich to Stockholm, James had navigated the intricate world of European academia, always shifting identities to blend in with the aristocratic elites that ruled these institutions.
But even with the academic world behind him, James found himself longing for a break. He had become weary of the world of intellectualism and was eager to leave Europe behind. His thoughts turned to Egypt, where the sands of time had preserved the ruins of one of the world's greatest ancient civilizations. With the map in hand, he made plans to travel south into Africa, hoping to find the remnants of a forgotten tribe that had remained hidden for centuries.
But as fate would have it, James' journey took an unexpected turn. In a small Egyptian town, he encountered a circus troupe performing lowly acts. Among the crowd, he witnessed something peculiar—a cage holding a creature that seemed to defy explanation. The creature—a child-like being, red-skinned and emaciated—caught James' attention. Despite its monstrous appearance, there was something about the creature that tugged at his heart.
The child, whom he would later learn was named Asazo, was malnourished and terrified. But after sharing a simple meal with the child, James found a strange bond forming between them. This child, a living relic of a forgotten world, was in need of protection, something James instinctively offered.
But this was no ordinary child. Asazo had a mysterious origin, one that led James to speculate about the ancient forces at play. The name Asazo, or Azazel, struck a chord with James—a name linked to devilish lore, a name whispered in ancient texts. This connection stirred something deep within him.
As James walked through the village with Asazo in his arms, he realized that his journey had only just begun. He had seen much of the world, but it was clear that the true challenges lay ahead. And with the child by his side, the past and future of the world would intersect in ways neither of them could have predicted.
As the wind swept across the desert, James disappeared into the horizon, a new chapter of his life beginning in the far reaches of Africa.
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