“So my adjutant has told me,” he responded. “But an alliance between the elves and dwarves would most likely grind any human aggression to a halt with no risk to your diplomatic envoys. So one must wonder why you’re really here.”
“He says truly,” Sheildwall answered using her most regal and diplomatic voice. “The dwarf nations cannot afford to antagonize the humans at this time.”
“Any war would cost our people greatly,” Lanisa said. “An alliance of the empires would annihilate us.”
“I see,” the large man rumbled. “And were there no other options? The king of the elves was so desperate to protect his people that he would risk his only son?” We went silent, looking at one another. “There’s more isn’t there?” Vale asked. His eyes burned into our skins. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“We’re expected to die,” I answered quietly. All eyes turned to me. Vale was far too smart to fall for any line we could come up with. It was time to lay all my cards on the table. “I’ve offended the king, but the elf mages have insisted I and my sister be given sanctuary. I guess he decided this was the best way to get rid of me. And if this didn’t work, negotiating with an all-powerful mage and darklings should.”
“And what is the name of this all-powerful spellcaster?”
I wracked my brain as I tried to remember her name. The king only mentioned it once. “Vetta Winters, I think.”
A large grin spread across the man’s face and a deep laugh rumbled from within. “Vetta Winters? The elf king really does hate you. Do you have any idea what would happen to you if Vetta Winters were to learn you tried to propose an alliance with us?” The large man didn’t wait for us to answer. Instead, he turned his eyes to Tallus. “He hated you enough to endanger the life of his son?”
“Actually, I was forbidden to come,” Tallus said. “But I’ve never been good at following orders. King or otherwise.”
The man nodded, called out to his adjutant. Stormcloak entered and waited by the hallway we’d entered from.
“I’ve quite enjoyed our conversation,” Vale rumbled. “But I’m afraid the rest of these negotiations will be conducted between myself and Mr. Martin.” The others looked about to argue, but Vale raised his hands. “You are all under my personal protection while in this palace and no harm will come to any of you, Mr. Martin included.”
My friends looked at me, and I nodded. One by one they filed out. “Stormcloak,” Vale said before the man could leave. “See to their every comfort, then call a summit.” Stormcloak bowed and left the room.
Once the sound of their footsteps vanished into obscurity I turned to Vale. “How did you know my name? I only just told Lord Stormcloak.”
“I used magic to listen to your conversations,” the large man said. “Now I have a question for you. Do you know why we spared you in the fields of Withermoor?”
Withermoor. Obviously, what they call the area they grabbed us from. Perhaps their entire realm.
“Because as diplomats we’re afforded protections?” I answered. An obvious but unrealistic answer.
“Because of your weapon.”
“My weapon?” I asked feigning ignorance.
His hand reached into his robes and pulled out my pistol. “I believe the colloquial term from your world for it is ‘gun’,” he said with a hint of a superior smile.
The Trinity
“How the hell do you know that term?” I asked in astonishment as Vale turned my pistol over to me.
“Several decades ago a man from your world found himself here. He, unfortunately, was captured by an order other than mine and died under their imprisonment. But he did carry one of those ‘guns’. They have a limited number of charges as I recall.”
“Any idea how he got here?” I asked, suddenly and desperately intrigued.
“One of our spells may have gone awry and pulled him here. Or it could have been the elves. After all this time there’s no way to be sure.”
“One of your spells? Undead have the ability to cross between worlds?” I asked in astonishment.
Vale’s stare felt like it was piercing my soul. “Do you think the elves are the only ones to cross between worlds?” he rumbled as he found a chair to sit in. “The elves need the fairies to cross, because they themselves aren’t pure blood fairies. The weave of magic fuels the life-force of faerie kind. It’s that direction connection to the weave that’s needed to establish the connection.”
“And you have a direct connection to the weave?”
Vale’s pale face split into a hellish smile as he gazed past the wall, to a far off point only he could see. “I do not. In spite of the legends, vampires aren’t true undead, but merely a form of unlife. True undead draw their life directly from the weave, just as faeries do. Vampires draw our life from the bodies of the living. I suppose you could say we are to true undead as the elves are to the faeries.”
A flare of hope burst in my chest. “But there are those here who can send us back?” I asked quickly, forgetting to mask my desperation. “I don’t need the elves?”
“You come to us for an alliance, and now wish us to cast one of the most difficult spells known? You must have a great deal that we need.” Vale’s smile became almost predatory, his tone mocking. “What is this astounding windfall that you offer, I wonder?”
I reach into my pocket and pull out that ornate envelope the elf king had given me. “I believe everything you need is in here,” I said with far more confidence than I felt. I had a sneaking suspicion the envelope’s contents wouldn’t be the windfall that I hoped it would be.
Vale took the envelope. He read its contents, looked at me with a face that conveyed a strange combination of surprise and humor before looking at the contents again.
“If the terms aren’t entirely to your liking…” I said uncomfortably, “…I’m sure there’s room to negotiate further.”
I actually heard the vampire chuckle as he read the note in his hands a third time. “I think you may have been right,” he said as he handed the envelope’s contents to me. “I believe the elf king expects you to die here.”
I read the envelope and my stomach dropped into my shoes. I thought I would vomit right there. You will agree to an unconditional alliance with the Elvin Weald, the note said. If you fail to comply, you and your kind will be wiped from this land as the abominations that you are.
“You might perhaps be mistaken about that room for negotiation,” rumbled Vale with a dark chuckle.
I knew I was in deep shit and my hand tightened instinctively on my pistol. Vale didn’t miss the motion.
“Do you really think I would hand you a weapon that could harm me?” Vale asked. “As impressive as your gun is, it will have little effect upon a vampire.”
It took a force of will, but I relaxed my grip on the pistol. “I suppose not,” I said sliding the insulting message from the king in my pocket. “Why would the elf king take such a risk with this note? He’s not worried about your retribution?”
“He’s protected by the faeries that dwell inside the rivers on his border. Any attempt to cross would mean the destruction of all undead who tried. And to travel around the headwaters for this insult isn’t worth my time or effort, although I couldn’t say the same of the leaders of the other orders. I’m sure that’s why the king sent you to me and not them.”
I looked down and ground my teeth in aggravation. I’d known the king was setting me up to die, but that didn’t really help. I still felt the betrayal as keenly as though it had been a surprise. My mind was flooded with images of slitting the bastard’s throat.
“If it makes you feel any better,” said the abyssal rumble of the tall vampire’s voice, “your trip may not be an entire loss.”
“What do you mean? You’re willing to send my sister and me home?”
The shake of Vale’s head could have almost been considered apologetic, except vampires weren’t known for their compassion. “I’m afraid that’s impossible at the moment. Bu
t the alliance is still an attainable goal.”
My eyes narrowed at Vale. “After this?” I asked patting the pocket that held the insulting note. “Why would you be willing to do the elves any favors?”
“Because you’re going to do me a favor in return,” the vampire rumbled. There was a glint in its eye that chilled me to the bone. “And when you return with this alliance, the elf king will be disgraced.” That evil smile returned to Vale’s face at the thought of disgracing the elf king.
“What could I possibly do for you?” I asked, suspicion narrowing my eyes.
“Nothing untoward, I promise you,” Vale said trying to paste a friendly smile on his face. His voice tried to take on a friendly and almost fatherly tone. He tried and failed on both counts. My skin was crawling even worse now than before. “I simply need you to deliver an item to Vetta Winters for destruction.”
“That’s all?” I asked evenly. Suspicion and doubt crept up and down my spine as I tried to figure out this creature’s angle.
“It may seem like a small matter to you, but as the landgrave of the Eternals, I am all but a prisoner here. And the item I wish you to deliver is too sensitive for me to entrust to one of my own. Your arrival has provided me an opportunity that had been impossible before now.”
“So… you’re called Eternals?” I asked. That did make some sense given that they lived forever.
“Not all of us, just my particular order,” said Vale. He noticed the incomprehension on my face and sighed. With his deep and gravelly voice, that sigh almost sounded like a growl. “Let me explain.”
“Several thousand years ago, human mages were just beginning to understand how to manipulate the weave of magic. But their ambition far outweighed their means and skill. One of their more risky experiments slipped from their control as they polluted the weave. The weave, being pure in nature, erupted into this world to expel the polluted magic.”
“We were bathed in a foul magic that fouled our bodies. Some died instantly. Others took time to die. But eventually, every living thing died only to return as the walking dead. Some, like me, didn’t get the full force of the corruption, and therefore aren’t pure undead. We’re bastard creatures of undeath, too dead to be accepted by the living and too close to the living for the pure undead to trust.”
“So, was that how the undead came to be?” I asked.
“Undead walked this world before,” he said. “And the experiment didn’t create any new forms of undead. Likely, we recreated a similar mistake from the past, though no one can ever know for sure.”
“Living in an area that was remote enough that the dwarves and elves didn’t want to bother with us and because other humans were, at the time, little more than savages and hunter-gatherers, we were left to our own devices. But there was a problem. As a rule, undead do not form heterogeneous units. You might find a group of vampires at a single location or a group of ghosts, but never a mix of the two. We tend to be somewhat xenophobic, even of other forms of undead. It takes an extraordinary power of will to bind multiple forms of undead into cooperation.”
“There were struggles between many of us for control of the limited space. Some of our numbers left and fanned out to all corners of the land in search of their own territory. But eventually, humans developed a level of complexity that gave rise to groups who considered it their duty to rid the world of undead. They began to hunt us. Due to our numbers alone, this land became a sanctuary for undead. No living creature was willing to attack a force as numerous as we. An influx of undead began and we were forced to learn to work together.”
“In time, we named this land Withermoor and a government formed out of the chaos. In order to maintain peace, we found ourselves instinctively falling into a division of three orders based on needs and characteristics. Those three orders inspired the name we now call ourselves. We are the Trinity of Withermoor, and our people are known as the Fallen.”
“As a vampire, I am a member of the Eternals. As I said before, we Eternals are not true undead. Unlike the trues, we require sustenance from the living to maintain both our lives and immortality. Vampires drink blood, hags absorb youth and vigor, and even revenants have living bodies that require the same maintenance as yours. Although revenant bodies do have a handful of advantages, such as the added benefit that they won’t age. Eternals often inspire jealousy in the trues because we can pass as living. We remind them of what they’ve lost.”
“Living, huh,” I said with doubt. “I’ve never seen eyes like yours on a living creature.”
Vale blinked those pure black orbs at me then stood and walked to the table of food. He grabbed a random item off and placed it in his mouth. After chewing only a few times, he swallowed then looked toward me. His eyes were normal, human. As blue as the ocean. Even his cloak was no longer the deep abyss of shadows it once was. Now he was a simple tall man with simple black hair in a simple black cloak.
“Forgive me, I’d just fed,” Vale said. Even his voice sounded human now. “When a vampire drinks blood, our true nature becomes apparent for several hours or until we eat normal food. All eternals can pass for the living, but we each have traits that will give us away.” He returned to his seat and laced his fingers across his lap before continuing.
“The second order in the Trinity are the Corporeals,” he said. “Corporeals have physical bodies, although they are almost always in some state of decay. A lich’s aptitude with magic is almost unparalleled, and there are more draugr, zombies, and skeletons in Withermoor than all other undead combined.”
“So, is it the liches who can send me and my sister home?” I asked.
“They could, but they won’t. A lich would kill you before anything else. It’s only my influence that is keeping you and your friends alive. I and the Ethereals.”
“So, I’m guessing the Ethereals are ghosts?”
“Exactly so,” said Vale, “along with shades, phantasms, banshees, and others. They’re enigmatic even to other undead. They can appear and disappear at will, pass through solid objects, and infuriatingly seem to know even the most protected secrets. Like a lich, they’re true undead gaining their life directly from the weave. They would be the most likely to help you, if you could find them. Or trust them.”
“How do you find them?”
“I don’t. If I need them, and they’re willing, they show up. I don’t need to do anything. Stormcloak will notify the Corporeals of a summit I’ve called to discuss your proposed alliance. It’s set to begin within the hour. The Ethereals will either show up or they won’t, but I’m sure they know.”
“Will they help me?”
“Perhaps. But they’re flighty to say the least. Unpredictable and malicious are probably more apt descriptions. If they do open a doorway to another world, it’s likely they will send you to any world other than your own.”
“So what are my options?”
“For now, they’re somewhat limited. Vetta Winters likely will be able to help in some way, although she won’t be able to cast the spell herself.”
I leaned against the back of one of the many chairs, growling to myself at the predicament I was in.
“Be at peace, my friend,” Vale cooed. “I won’t let anything happen to you. And even if I can’t convince the council of the usefulness of this alliance, I will still guarantee your safety in Withermoor until you decide to leave.”
I looked up at the big man. Big vampire. He smiled at me, completely misjudging the reason for my stress. He thought I was worried about the other undead. They may be a problem, but I was planning the long game just like him.
Granted, I was still alive, something I wasn’t supposed to be. That was a small victory. But that came at the cost of allying myself to a vampire who was obviously making plans more intricate than a fractal. There was no doubt that he couldn’t be trusted, but I didn’t have any other options at the moment. And I couldn’t even say I was over the hump, as the saying goes, once I was out of Withermoor. Likely Vett
a Winters or the darklings would kill me as soon as they see me.
Vale stood and walked to me. He placed a consoling hand on my shoulder. Looking at him now, it’s easy to see how he could blend in with us. “Return to your stateroom with your friends,” he said. “Enjoy yourselves but I suggest you specifically avoid food for the time being. I will have you summoned when the summit is about to begin. You should rest until then.”
I forced a smile and nodded. “That sounds like a winning idea,” I said. “Maybe a nap.”
“That’s the spirit!” Vale boomed as he called Stormcloak. “Rest up and soon you will return to the elves as a hero!”
The Summit
Sleep was dark and fitful. Terrifying images of life-sucking undead and skin melting magic tore through my nightmares. I was actually kind of glad when Stormcloak woke me from my nap.
The Captain of the Wild Hunt led me through the same dark and musty hallways to the same room I’d met Vale. Its furniture had been rearranged, three tables near three different walls. Several chairs had been set behind the two tables facing each other. Rasthamus Vale and a woman I’d not met sat at the table to the left. She was somewhat plain looking with stringy dark hair and a tattered robe. As I entered, Vale grinned and motioned for me to sit next to him. Stormcloak took the final seat.
“Good to see you my friend!” he said. “I’d like to introduce Tallia Mel, another of my adjutants.” He motioned to her with one hand and clapped me on the shoulder with the other as though I was a long lost relative. I could see why Vale was a member of the Eternals. Who knows how long this fuck has been dead, and yet his broad smile could have easily convinced me he was my closest friend. More than that, I was having a hard time mistrusting Vale even knowing he was a vampire. And I don’t trust easily. I assumed it was some kind of vampire coercion thing.
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