Notte

He’s one of the oldest living beings among the Mythos. The father of all vampires (or Night-Children, as they’re called), he’s a mystery; no one knows where the heck he came from, or who made him.

Name meaning: Night (Italian – he picked that one)

Other names: Naktam; Night-King; Nox Aeterna; He Who Walks Unhindered; King of Blood; the Blood King; Lord of the Night Whispers; Notte the Unending; the Mortal’s Doom; and of course, just Night.

Notte by Celine Chapus (colored by Ruthanne Reid)

He’s one of the oldest living beings among the Mythos. The father of all vampires (or Night-Children, as they’re called), he’s a mystery; no one knows where the heck he came from, or who made him.

Thanks to his influence, Night-Children do not fall into the category of Kin, even though no one is born a vampire. They are of The Darkness, at least technically.

He doesn’t look powerful. He’s been described as young, with large, soulful eyes and enormous brown curls. A poet’s face hiding a monster’s appetite, or so he’s phrased it.

It should be noted that he is intimately connected to every single Night-Child. He feels them all; he can always find them, and knows if they’re in pleasure or pain, yet he’s able to hang on to his own mind due to his hard-earned self-control – or possibly because Death himself is responsible for the composition of Notte’s brain.

More on that in the upcoming book, BELOVED, NOTTE.

“I am He Who Walks Unhindered,” Notte says, and it wasn’t my imagination, the room is rumbling. “I am Naktam, Night, the Night-King and Nox Aeterna. I am the king of Blood and Lord of the Night Whispers. I am The Mortal’s Doom, and before your mother even shed her first infant tears onto the soil of the old world, I was.” His voice echoes in the void he just created, in the darkness that throbs and caresses him and swallows the firelight, in the utter steadiness of his eyes as he pins the Fey with will alone.

[…]

“I gave your mother the power to do what she did. I, too, beheld the purple light of the Night Sky as it tore asunder and crashed to the soil, a crude knife thick like fists and sharp as guilt. I, too, was changed – and walked the streets of Az’Kabek, witnessing the First Death, and I was there when your mother spun the final song to make the Silver Dawning. Do not, Leonard Jasper Silas Dain, mistake my patience for weakness. You are in my home, on land that I am owed beyond even the death of your Throne, and you will treat my guests well – or you will find you are no longer counted among them.”

– SOLOMON’S CHOICE, coming in 2022
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