“There are few things in
this life that worry me.” the vampire said, his lavender eyes staring out over
the vast ocean, only just changing hue with the rising of the sun. His pale hands rested on the hilts of Dawn
and Dusk, the twin blades given to him by the sister deities of light and
dark. Their true names were Diluculo and Crepesculum, and they were powerful weapons indeed. His grip on the Dawnblade, even slight as it
was, kept him shielded from the dawn’s burning rays even as they began to fill
the sky with their brilliance.
“What worries you, my love?” the woman beside him
asked. He turned to meet her gaze, her
bright blue eyes glistening in the morning light. She was Delilah, a priestess of the
Songsisters of Seelia, a group of priestesses granted the divine vocal prowess
of their god, Achelous. Through him,
they channel his voice and project such raw power as to calm dragons and crush
mountains. For the vampire, though, she
reserved her calmest, most quiet tones best spoken in the hush of night.
“Morganna is
dead.” he replied, turning his gaze back out over the rolling sea. “The Coven Syn is likely still reeling from the shock of losing their
leader and the blow of losing so many of their number. But it will not last long. Her death has created an opening for some
cunning and crafty creature to assume
power, and vampires are nothing if not cunning.”
“The Coven Syn?” she asked, her eyes widening in
alarm. “The coven that…turned…you?”
“The same.” he answered with a nod. “I killed their leader. Without her, they’re
dangerous, more chaotic.”
“Morganna was not one known to keep the peace.”
Delilah replied, scoffing as she, too, turned her gaze once more upon the
sea. “I can recall the many times she
threatened retaliation on my sisters for meddling in the affairs of her
kind. I am glad she is no more. The murderous witch killed far too many good
people for me to ever have tolerated her like you did.”
Euliclese could hear the anger simmering in her
words, and he laid a gentle hand on her shoulder. He squeezed her delicately, and smiled,
trying to calm her.
“We had a pact.” he said. “Granted, it was not one that kept everyone
safe. But in return for leaving her
alone, she would keep the coven out of Gothis and its countryside. I knew she would turn her attention
elsewhere, but I had no idea it would threaten you and your people, my love.”
“You should destroy them all,” she said coldly, her
blue eyes narrowing dangerously, as though focusing her hatred on some distant
shore. “That they may never harm another
innocent again. Why you have not already
is a mystery to me, Euliclese. They are
evil and should be dealt with. Would
that I could convince the Ivory Council to a call for war so that I could lead
my sisters against them and let them taste of our voices.”
“Delilah.” Euliclese said, squeezing her shoulder and
turning her to face him. “The Ivory
Aerie is a peaceful place,
and I would have thought their priestesses were just as peaceful.”
“Have you ever buried friends?” she retorted, her
anger now focused on him. “Have you ever
watched those you love
died because you failed to act?”
“Yes.” he replied, his expression calm and
restrained, though she could see the pain in his eyes.
“I am sorry,” she said, lowering her gaze. “Of course you have. You would have to, I suppose, being the only
vampire that does not hunt innocents.
Forgive me. Having such a strong
connection to Achelous brings with it a sense of divine purpose, and the power to
enact his judgment on the evil in this world.
It can be difficult to maintain the focus needed not to let it overwhelm
me.”
Euliclese nodded, and lifted his arms, pulling her
close to him. She nestled her cheek
against his armored chest, feeling the cool metal on her skin and the warmth of
the rising sun growing on her back. She
sighed softly, reveling in the security and comfort the vampire offered, before
pulling back and looking up into his lavender eyes.
“So what will you do?” she asked, her bright blue
eyes meeting his. He held her gaze for a
long moment, unsure of just how to answer her question. He knew the most obvious answer, but the
thought of it made him cringe, and violated everything he believed in. When they had murdered his family and turned
him into a vampire, they had kept him locked away without sustenance, until the
bloodlust was so powerful and overwhelming that he didn’t even realize the
victim they had given him was his wife until after he had already drained her
dry. The Coven represented everything
that he had spent five hundred years fighting against, and now, leaderless and
lost, the only way to keep their remaining members from spreading like a plague
across the countryside was to give them something more to fear than their
former leader.
“I will have to destroy them.”
* * * * *
“We should be
out feeding!” the vampire cried, his fist crashing into the old stone wall of
the crypt behind him. The mortar and
stone crumbled beneath the weight of the blow, dust falling from the ceiling,
but the vampire didn’t seem to notice, the thought of a cave-in much more
appealing than going without blood for one more moment. “Morganna is gone, and the foolish deal she
had with her bastard childe is no more.
We can do whatever we want!”
“Be not a fool,
Nicodemus!” another vampire replied, a tall being with long, white hair and
piercing silver eyes. His fair features
and pointed ears spoke of an elven heritage, but whatever his origins, he was
only a vampire now, the tips of his fangs showing from beneath his upper lip. “Morganna is gone, but her former childe remains. Do you not think that he will be watching,
especially now that he knows we are leaderless?
He is no stranger to watching our actions!”
“Do you fear
him, Alwynn?” Nicodemus retorted, smirking even as the words left his
mouth. “He is but one vampire. He cannot possibly stand against a coven
united.”
“We are not
united, Nicodemus.” a voice called from the darkness, and both vampires turned
to see Celeste emerge from the shadows, wearing a long black gown, her pale
face framed by her raven locks. “Far
from it. That is a weakness that
Euliclese is cunning enough to exploit.
And do not be naïve enough to think that we are a match for the likes of
that one. He is five centuries old, and
the last one to have partaken of Morganna’s blood. She sired no other after him, and none have
tasted her blood since. He is as
powerful as she, perhaps even moreso.”
Nicodemus
growled and shook his head, slumping against the catacomb wall, his face
forming a silent scowl. Celeste smirked,
then turned her gaze to Alwynn. The
silver haired creature met her gaze and smiled, then nodded after she inclined
her head back, indicating that he should follow her. The two slowly left the chamber, leaving
their errant kinsman to silently brood.
“He is impetuous
and rash.” Celeste said, once they were alone.
Alwynn nodded and stood before the door after shutting it behind
him. “It is surprising that Morganna
never disposed of him.”
“You know well
the coven’s rule against slaughtering our own kind.” he replied. “Not even she could so easily break one of
the Twelve Tenants.”
“And yet she
alone had the Right of Destruction over every one of us.” Celeste
answered. “Perhaps that was her failing,
Alwynn, hoarding the power of leadership.
Surely, her advisors had her ear, but not even their counsel was enough
to stop her from being turned to ash by her own childe. And yet, he remains. He is a persistent
threat, regardless of how many number our ranks.”
Alwynn remained
silent, staring at her. Celeste smiled,
and crossed the room, pressing herself up against him. Her hands rose, and she cupped his cheeks,
pressing her lips to his own in a lingering kiss. Alwynn eagerly returned the embrace, his
lithe body melding against her own, the two having long been lovers as well as
sire and childe.
“He is powerful.
But we can be more powerful. We just need to reclaim that power. Morganna is
gone, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t others like her. Others with the
power to stand against him, and keep him at bay. But we must remain wary, and
cloaked in shadow. I trust that you will keep Nicodemus under control, at least
for the time being. We cannot allow him to risk us all.”
Alwynn
nodded, and looked back at the doorway that led to the other end of the crypt.
He sighed, knowing that he had his work cut out for him. But Celeste would
accept nothing short of absolute devotion, so he merely nodded again.
* * * * *
“Tis a foolish
idea, Euliclese.” Adoria said, a few nights later. She stood with her long,
cream-colored arms folded over the chest of her crimson gown, her simmering anger
hard to ignore. Her long auburn hair was
pleated and artfully woven atop her head, and her fingernails were colored the
same red as her gown. Her role as
courtesan to the senator of Albinus, a merchant city at the center of Seelia,
had given her power and had increased her already substantial wealth, but it
had also apparently given her a sense of entitlement to address her sire so
boldly.
Though, if he
were honest with himself, she had always had no fear of speaking to him so
boldly.
“The coven is a
danger to Gothis and every outlying town between it and Seelia. If they are not controlled, their numbers will spread, and the death
toll will grow with every mortal turned. They cannot be allowed
to threaten everything we have worked so hard to achieve.”
“Everything you
worked to achieve, you mean.” she replied, shaking her head. “I never believed in your foolish quest for repentance. Surely, your code to drink only from the
evildoer is a just one, and
I practice it to this very night.
Albinus is overflowing with evil men.
But while my hands are clean of
the blood of the innocent, I am still a vampire, Euliclese. As are you. Yet you would continue a war that has already cost so much?”
“You were not
there to see the depths of horror that unchecked vampiric power can achieve.”
he answered angrily. “The original
members murdered my entire family, Adoria.
They turned me and waited until I was mad with hunger to feed my own
wife to the beast. That was what they
did to those who were powerful enough to threaten them. What might they do to those too weak to
defend themselves? No, I cannot allow such
a threat to come to fruition again. I
will destroy them, with or without you.”
“Your choice is
made, then.” she replied. “I know full
well that I cannot sway you from your decision.
I never could. But consider
this…why would you walk a path that you have tread before? Is this some attempt at absolving your guilt
at being unable to save your family from the coven’s attack? You were only mortal, Euliclese. You could not have stopped what happened,
even with the skills of a vampire hunter at your disposal. None of the hunters that came for us at the
manor were ever a threat unless they were many in number.”
“You could never
understand my desire to protect humanity from our kind, could you?” he asked,
his lavender eyes staring hard at her.
“It was never about trying to absolve myself the guilt of being a
monster. It was about protecting those
who could not protect themselves. It was
about maintaining the nobility that my father showed me as a boy. It was about being better than what was
forced upon me. I tried to show you
that.”
“And yet I
became a monster, regardless.” she said, her voice soft but her gaze hard as
stone. “I never wanted this. But that did not matter to the great and noble
Lord Blackthorne, did it? For all your
talk of nobility and being better than those who turned you, you still forced
this upon me. I have never had a child,
damn you. I have never had a man to truly love for more than his blood. You took my life from me, and what have you
given me in return? A cause that was
your own and a reason to want to destroy you every time we meet.”
The venom in her
words stung him, but he remained still, his face an expressionless mask. The two immortals stared at one another for a
long, quiet moment, before Adoria sighed and reached behind her, pulling her
shawl tightly about her shoulders.
Without another word, she turned, and began walking the long path down
the hill that led to Albinus’ southern gate.
He watched her go, silent as the grave, his heart heavy with the truth
in her words. He had foolishly believed
that he could immortalize everything about her that had been so alluring, only
to see it wither and die the longer she remained immortal. She was right…he had taken everything from
her, and what he had to give in return had not been anywhere near enough.
Sighing,
the vampire turned, and walked away.
* * * * *
Seelia stood a
hundred leagues or more from Gothis’ southern tip, across the Barren Sea and
many miles inland across a great desert. It had been a trip that the vampire
had not undertaken lightly. But Delilah’s presence had been soothing and
comforting, and her counsel was often exactly what he needed to hear. Adoria
was aware of the Songsisters, and of his relationship with the woman. She did
not approve, but that mattered little to him. It had been a long time since he
had loved anyone like he loved Delilah, and being away from his ancestral
homeland was a small price to pay to be with his beloved.
And while
thoughts of her often elevated his mood, Adoria’s bitter words still lingered
in his mind. He had thought that her time in Seelia had helped mend the divide
between them, but it was still as great as ever. But perhaps what hurt the most
was that her words were entirely true. He had done all those things to her. He
had robbed her of so much life yet to live, and had given her damnation
instead. Perhaps he was the monster she thought him to be after all. He sighed,
turning the corner to move through the town’s southern gate, and back to the
Ivory Aerie, where Delilah called home.
The Ivory Aerie
was a soaring monolith that defied the skies and reached for the heavens. Made of alabaster and ironwood, the Aerie was
a magical construction as well as physical, its wide sweeping arches and immaculate
masonry making such a grand structure seem alarmingly delicate. The Aerie had stood for hundreds of years,
though, with hardly a scratch or breach to show for it. Never in the recorded history of the grand
structure had its walls been breached or its defenses bested. Nestled on the seaside cliffs of southern
Seelia, the Aerie was a bastion of hope for sailors and fishermen, the beacon
at its highest point always lit, guiding the lost back to land.
Within the Aerie
were the Songsisters of Seelia. To the
goodly folk of the land, they were healers and curse-breakers, counselors and
peace keepers. To the bandits and
marauders that always plagued the countryside, they were terrors in white,
their namesake ability to channel the divine voice of their god through
their own vocal chords making them powerful priestesses of good and defenders
of justice. The Songsisters were often
nicknamed Lovely Doves, both for their simple beauty and their divine vocal
ability.
It was to the
head of their order, Delilah the Pure, that he had sought what would be the
greatest aid of his existence. He was
leery at first…how would she and the other Songsisters react to having an
undead creature of the night within their midst, let alone the heart of their
Holy Order? He had thought that surely
his reputation had grown, passing through the land as tales of the vampire whom
only fed from the wicked, of which there were plenty. He had thought that surely his name had passed
along the lips of those that he had saved, but to what extent? He had no way of
knowing if his name reached the southern shores, or if the Songsisters would
allow him entry.
But they had.
And when he was ushered to Delilah, her warm smile and bright, blue eyes were a
balm to his fears. She had welcomed him, wanting to know all about him and his
vampiric ways. She had put him at ease, and he had welcomed such companionship.
It was not much longer before he began
to feel affection toward her, and her toward him, and once again, the vampire
had fallen in love with a mortal.
His trek through
the outlying desert was long but quiet, and the night wasn’t half gone before
he saw the Aerie on the seaside cliff, a large fire lit at its peak as a
landmark for any vessels sailing at night. He smiled, and quickened his pace,
eager to be with his beloved once more. But as he did, he felt a presence
nearby. Someone was watching him. He continued walking, not wanting to alert
his observer that he had been sensed, and let his lavender gaze look about
carefully.
The desert wasn’t
only barren sand, but had many craggy slabs of rock and slate that dotted the
landscape. There were many places to set an ambush, though Euliclese didn’t
sense more than one person watching him. He was surprised that he had sensed
the figure at all. His keen hearing heard no heartbeat, and his sense of smell
caught no lingering odor of sweat or life, which could only mean one thing.
Whatever was watching him was not human.
Turning to climb
a short hill between two jagged bits of rock, he stopped, his gaze falling on a
shadowy figure at the top of the hill. The figure seemed a man, with wide
shoulders and a bald head that glistened in the moonlight. But as the moon was
behind him, his face was buried in shadow, and Euliclese sensed that some
magical enhancement kept him shrouded from his own vampiric vision.
The two stared
at one another for a long moment, before the figure spoke.
“You are the
vampire, Lord Blackthorne.” The figure spoke, a frank statement rather than a question.
Euliclese
nodded. “I am.”
“Why are you
here?” the figure asked.
“That is none of
your concern.” Euliclese retorted, his hands going to the hilts of his twin
blades.
The figure
laughed, a deep, sinister laugh that lingered in the darkness for a moment
after he fell silent. Euliclese felt a shudder move through him, though he was
sure to remain still, lest he show any weakness to this man. He was growing
more and more certain that the figure was a vampire, though he showed none of
the traits of one. His eyes were dark, not reflective in the darkness, and he
had no scent whatsoever, where most immortals either smelled of the grave or of
whatever fancy oils or perfumes they preferred to appear more human.
“You trifle with
these Songsisters, seeking solace, and of all things, love. You think that such
a thing is important, even though you have been dead far longer than most of
your kind. But you should know well the deviousness of mortals. Even now, your
beloved Delilah lies entwined in the arms of another.”
“Lies.”
Euliclese retorted, drawing the blades of Dusk and Dawn from their hilts. The
twin blades flared angrily, the Dawnblade’s light penetrating the magical
darkness that hid the figure’s face. As it did, the figure growled, and turned,
as if flinching. Instead, he simply vanished, as though he had never been there
to begin with. Stunned, the vampire cautiously moved closer, his glowing blades
at the ready, but there was no trace of the figure. He let his senses open, his
preternatural mind searching for any sign of the man, but there was none.
Sheathing
his blades, his lavender gaze lifted to the Aerie, his eyes narrowing in
suspicion.
* * * * *
The fire was low
in the hearth in Delilah’s room when he climbed through the window, having
levitated the side of the Aerie so as to remain unseen. It was dark, but there
was enough light for him to see the figures in the bed, bodies draped over one
another in slumber. He did not recognize the man that was half-covered by the
bed’s drapery, but he knew all too well the figure of Delilah, his precious
Delilah. The figure’s words were true.
Euliclese stood
absolutely still, unable to believe the scene before him. The figure had been
right. He had never considered that she would so blatantly betray him. Yes, all
mortals were devious in their own way, but she was the head of a goodly order.
She was Delilah the Pure! But there was nothing pure about the scene before
him, about the way that she stank of this mortal man, the scent of their love
making still lingering in the air. The memory of their own flashed through his
mind, as did the memory of every gentle touch, of every smile, of every song
she had sung while tending to the wounded of Seelia. His mind was overwhelmed
with every emotion he had ever felt for the woman, only to have all of it
crushed by this heavy, heavy betrayal.
Picking up a thick tome on a nearby table, he flung it across the room and into the hearth,
where it landed with a loud crash, scattering hot coals and ashes into the
air. The commotion made them both stir, and Delilah sat upright with a start,
her blue eyes wide with shock and fear. He briefly thought about how he had
stared so lovingly into her eyes, but cast it aside as his rage-filled gaze
fell to her lover.
The man stood,
wearing only a simple pair of white breeches. He immediately reached for his
sword, and as he drew it, Euliclese remained still, his face a mask of fury,
showing no fear whatsoever. Delilah stood, covering herself with a blanket from
the bed, as though she preferred modesty despite her flagrant disregard for
loyalty.
“Please…” she
said. “Don’t do anything rash.”
The vampire
ignored her, staring hard at her lover. He waved the sword threateningly at
him, but still Euliclese didn’t move. Slowly, his gaze fell to her, and he
growled, his rage rising, threatening to consume him. He hadn’t felt that rage
for quite some time, and it took much to bring it forth. The thought that he
had battled that rage for so long in order to remain human almost made him
laugh. He wanted nothing more at that moment then to unleash the monster within
him, to tear her lover limb from limb while she watched.
“Why?” he
managed to ask, his voice a sinister hiss.
“Because you are
dead.” She snapped. “You are not alive. Your cold skin was no comfort. Your
heart was still and not beating when I laid my head on your chest. I needed
life. I needed warmth, and heat, and passion. You could only mimic those
things.”
Euliclese stepped
forward, ready to unleash his outrage, when her lover decided that he had had
enough. He thrust forward, and truly, his speed was enough to catch many a
mortal man unaware. It would likely have been the death of any man, but
Euliclese was no man. He turned to the side, letting the sword move just inches
from his flesh, and with one mighty blow, sent the man careening backwards
toward the open window. Stumbling, reeling from the impact, the fool lost his
footing and tumbled backwards, over the windowsill and out the window, falling
to his death.
“No!” Delilah
cried, her face contorting with rage and grief. Her angry gaze turned to the
vampire, and with a short intake of breath, she screamed, unleashing a powerful
cry that overwhelmed his senses. He collapsed to one knee, his hands falling to
the floor to steady himself, the incredible agony of her divinely-enhanced
vocal chords making his ears bleed. He cried out, his hands moving to cover his
ears, his vampire senses making the assault only more painful. She continued
the assault, magically carrying the same pitch to keep him at bay and helpless.
Euliclese tried
to stand, but the sound was just too overpowering. He felt himself begin to
collapse, his senses spinning. He grew dizzy, and his vision was a blur. He
couldn’t stand, even if he wanted to, much less launch an attack against her. Again,
the visions of their time together moved through his thoughts, of every quiet
moment, every soft touch, every gentle kiss…how had all of that led to this, he
wondered?
Suddenly, the
room went silent. His ears ringing, the vampire could only remain on the floor,
trying desperately to regain his senses. Though his body was already beginning to
repair the damage done to his hearing, he was still at the mercy of vertigo,
and he shook his head, trying to clear his vision. One hand weakly moved to one
of his swords, only to miss and nearly make him fall over.
“Rise,” a voice
said, and through the din, he recognized it as the voice of the figure that had
told him of this very betrayal. “Rise and look at what you have wrought.”
Groaning, the
vampire stood, his legs shaky but growing stronger as his senses cleared. He
looked up, only to see the figure holding Delilah tightly, one hand over her
mouth, his other arm wrapped tightly around her naked body. Her eyes were wide
with fear, and tears stained her cheeks. She silently begged him for help,
knowing that she was entirely helpless. The irony of that moment would have
made him laugh if it weren’t for the foolish, lingering affection he had for
her that hadn’t yet turned to hate.
“Please…” he
said. “Let her go.”
“Why? She has
betrayed you. She attacked you after you killed her lover, showing that you mean nothing to her.”
“She’s only
mortal…they make mistakes.” He began, though his words sounded hollow even as
they passed his lips. What suitable defense could he give when he knew that she
had willingly turned against him?
“You struggle to
appeal for her life, and yet you know she deserves to die.” The figure replied.
From below, Euliclese could hear commotion, the sound of cries of anger and
fear and of booted feet coming to see what had occurred.
“The Songsisters
gather to protect her.” Euliclese warned. “They are powerful.”
“They will not
arrive in time to save her.”
“Who are you?”
Euliclese asked, hands on the hilts of his swords, though he didn’t draw them.
The figure
laughed, and it was that same, mocking laughter from earlier.
“I am Magnus. I
am the ancestor through blood and death of Morganna the Dread. You killed her. And while I mourn her loss, what is more
important is that the creature that slew her take up her legacy. But you are not worthy. You are a mewling coward that
plays at being human when he
is clearly so much more.”
The commotion
from below grew louder, and it would only be a matter of time before the other
Songsisters forced their way through. They were already chanting to their god
Achelous, gathering power to their voices through a prayerful melody that would
grant them his divine magic. Euliclese remained still, however, uncertain that
even their aid would be enough to save Delilah.
“You cannot save
her…” Magnus said, having read his thoughts. “And why would you want to? Her
disloyalty is a truth you must accept…you are not alive. You are a vampire. And
the more you trifle with these weak and pathetic mortals, the weaker you
become. I will not have you weak, Euliclese. I will not accept the bearer of
Morganna’s legacy, of my legacy, to be a fool such as this.”
Before he could
react, before he could even move, Magnus wrenched his arm back, turning her
head with it. A loud, wet snap ushered forth, and she immediately collapsed.
Euliclese watched in horror as she fell to the floor, and with a rage that he
hadn’t felt in nearly a century, he launched himself at Magnus, drawing his
blades, his fangs bared and ready to eviscerate him where he stood.
And then he was
flying, crashing through the stone wall of the Aerie and out into the night,
his blades tumbling into the sands below. He hadn’t even seen the blow that had
hit him; Magnus had moved so fast! He had never felt power like that before,
and try as he might, he couldn’t reverse his ascent, struggling to summon the
vampiric blood within him to allow him to fly. He crashed into the ocean, the
impact breaking his ribs, legs, and arms. The pain was agonizing, and his world
went dark. He could feel himself descend into the murky darkness of the sea,
and before the darkness claimed him, he felt more than heard Magnus’ words in
his mind.
“Become
the creature you were meant to be. Summon others to your side. The house of
Magnus will rise again, with you as my harbinger.”