The End of Hatred

by Rebecca Hefner

  When she entered he was sitting at the cedar table he had fashioned for himself, studying maps of the Deamon caves. The pale light filtered over his brown hair and broad shoulders. His looks favored her father’s so much and she knew that leaving him would be a thousand times harder than leaving anyone she’d ever known.

  “Well, he’s banishing me to Restia,” she said, trying her best to keep her tone light. “It’s been nice knowing ya.”

  Kenden’s head snapped up and he scowled. “What?”

  “He’s sending me to Restia to marry Kalil. He’s going to ask you to kill the Vampyre woman later this evening. I’m wondering if I should ask you to just off me too since getting married might be worse than death.”

  “Wow,” he said, his cheeks puffing as he blew out a breath. “That’s harsh.”

  “No less than what I deserve, I guess, for harboring a Vampyre and hiding it from him.”

  “Right,” Kenden said, his tone flat.

  “Well,” she said, kicking the ground with her shoe. “I wanted to say thanks for helping me with the Vampyre and all. I really thought that this was a chance for us to have the upper hand but my fossil of a father just wants to keep us in a state of constant war. Oh well, he’ll have to live with that, I guess. I’m off to bed. Just wanted you to know that, um, I really appreciated your help with…everything,” she finished lamely. “Night.”

  “Whoa,” her cousin said. He stood and walked toward her. Grabbing her lower arm, he turned her toward him. “What are you doing, Randi?”

  “Going to bed. I just told you.”

  “Uh huh. Just like that. No fight? No argument? Just ‘oh, my dad’s sending me to another compound to get married’ and you’re going to bed?”

  “Yep,” she said, gazing up at him, trying to control her broken smile. “I love you, you know.”

  “Fuck, Miranda,” he said softly, grabbing her other arm as well. “You can’t do this. It’s insane. You’ll die the moment you step onto their compound. I won’t let you do it.”

  Her heart squeezed with love for this man who would always be the most important person in her life. They had shared so much. So much pain and loss. So much war and hate. He was more of a father to her than her own had ever been. More of a brother than a cousin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ken. It’s late. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Enough,” he said softly and pulled her toward the table so that they could both sit. “You don’t know me at all if you think I would let you engage with the Vampyres without protection.” Pulling out a notebook, he grabbed a pen. “Let’s make a plan. Quickly, since we don’t have a lot of time.”

  Heart swelling with love, they began discussing the plan that would change her future and, if all went well, the course of history for her people.

  They decided that she would take a Hummer with darkly tinted windows so the Vampyre’s skin wouldn’t burn. Kenden would send two soldiers along with her to guard and protect them. He also persuaded her that Sadie should accompany them. Although she didn’t like the idea, the Slayer physician could help keep the Vampyre in an unconscious state and bring her to consciousness when needed. Miranda felt wary about putting her friend in danger but ultimately agreed that it was the right choice.

  Understanding that they needed to ensure that their compound wouldn’t be raided for blood while Miranda was traveling with the Vampyre princess, Kenden agreed to bank the soldiers’ blood from the infirmary and deliver it to an agreed upon spot outside Astaria’s wall daily at dusk.

  Finally, after almost an hour, the plans had been solidified.

  Giving her cousin one last hug, Miranda pulled away from him to return to the castle.

  “Take this,” he said, handing her a small cell phone. “You won’t have service when you get past the Portal of Mithos but until then you can call me anytime. It will be untraceable by your father.”

  “Thank you, Ken.” Taking the small device, she gave him a tiny smile and exited the shed.

  Once in her chambers she showered, put on her camouflage pants, black tank and boots, and loaded up a backpack with supplies. Then she headed to find the Vampyre whose fate, whether she liked it or not, was now inexorably tied to her own.

  Excerpt from The Ancient Manuscript of the Slayera Soothsayers

  Book 6 – The Vampyre Raids

  Needing Slayera blood to sustain them, the Vampyres raided Uteria.

  Their reserves had run dry and they were no longer receiving the shipments of banked blood from the Slayera, their now-sworn enemy.

  In the darkness they came, their savage screams waking the sleeping Slayera.

  Our powerful King Marsias grabbed his sword and fought with strength and valor.

  That night thirty Slayera men were lost.

  Showing a twisted sense of honor, the Vampyres did not abduct any women or children.

  King Marsias knew there would be more raids and began to build a powerful army to protect his people.

  He enlisted his nephew, who was cunning and resilient, to form the military.

  Our noble Commander Kenden proceeded to build a great militia and awaited the next raid.

  The raids would continue for eternity, as peace had become a distant memory.

  All hope for a reconciliation of the tribes was lost…

  Chapter 4

  Kenden contemplated why he didn’t try to stop her. As her closest advisor he could’ve talked her out of the seemingly impossible plan she was embarking on.

  And yet, he’d let her go.

  After their meeting he showered and sat down in his bedchamber to prepare for the next morning’s training with his army, feeling restless. He hadn’t stopped her because deep down he knew she was right. Their people could not go on like this. They had lived with unending war and persecution for centuries. Unless the cycle was broken there was no end to the pattern. They were no better than rats on a wheel, doomed to live in a cage of their own making.

  Knowing he would get no sleep this night, he waited for Marsias to summon him to execute the Vampyre, unaware that Miranda would have already absconded with her.

  His cousin was the descendent of Valktor. Being a woman in their tiny world of tradition, she had always been dismissed by his uncle. But he knew her to be strong—so much stronger than she or anyone else gave herself credit for. He hoped that Miranda would call upon all of her strength for the road that lay ahead. Their people were in dire need of a new vision, a new leader.

  He had absolute faith that she was up to the task.

  Around four o’clock in the morning he heard the banging. Opening his bedroom door, the king stood on the other side. “Where is the Vampyre?” he asked.

  “I don’t know,” Kenden replied. At least this was truthful.

  “Where is Miranda?” Marsias asked.

  Kenden contemplated lying to his king, an action that held considerable consequences. “She’s gone.”

  “And you let her go?”

  Kenden felt his lips draw into a thin line. “I think the time of you or I letting Miranda do anything is over.”

  Anger flashed in his eyes. “You would dare betray me too, the commander of my army and my own nephew?”

  “You’ve grown paranoid, Marsias,” Kenden said, keeping his tone calm and clear. “I’m still here and will fight and defend our people until our last days. But Miranda is Valktor’s heir. His blood runs strong through her. We must give her the latitude to protect our people in whatever way she sees fit.”

  “I knew it was a mistake to let you train her,” he spat. “You’ve filled her head with notions of grandeur that will be her undoing!”

  “And you’ve denied her the right to rule her people for too long. I won’t fight you on this, uncle. I will set out to train the troops at daybreak as I always do. But don’t ask me to choose between you. I think you know who I’ll pick.”

  “Treason,” his uncle whispered, anger seething in his brown eyes.

  “N
o, just reality. Have faith in your daughter. She’s stronger than you’ve ever been able to see.”

  “I see her just fine, insolent child.”

  “No, you don’t,” Kenden said, struggling to contain the small bubble of anger that was welling in his chest. “You don’t know half of what she’s struggled with in this life.” He thought of all of the times he’d held her by the riverbank. “She’s lost so much. You should be grateful that she hasn’t yet lost the ability to fight for her people.”

  Marsias scowled. “I’ll figure out what to do with this situation, and with your insolence, tomorrow. Don’t let anyone know that she has defected. I want them to think that she is at Restia.”

  “You have my word,” Kenden said with a nod.

  After another scowl, Marsias stalked off.

  Closing the door, Kenden said a silent prayer for his cousin. The one remaining descendent of Valktor was very important. He was determined to make sure his soldiers kept an eye on her and that she stayed alive.

  The future of their people depended on it.

  * * * *

  Sathan lifted the binoculars and scanned the horizon for any sight of his sister. She had now been gone almost three full nights and he realized that with every passing moment the chances of finding her alive were diminishing.

  “Nothing is disturbed for twenty miles,” his brother said from behind. “We should keep moving down the river.”

  “It’s almost daybreak,” Sathan said. He threw the binoculars on the ground and screamed a loud curse. “How can we find her when we’re relegated to searching in the dark like animals? I’m so tired of this fucking curse. When will Etherya realize that we are still her faithful servants and end this?”

  Latimus latched his beefy hand onto Sathan’s shoulder. “One day, brother, the sun will shine upon us again. There must be an end to the darkness if we only keep our faith.”

  Sathan ran his fingers through his thick, wavy hair. “I hope so. Gather the party. Let’s get back to the compound. No good will be done if we incinerate ourselves while searching for her.”

  Latimus placed his index finger and thumb in his mouth and let out a loud whistle. The members of the search party all scattered to the various four-wheelers to head home.

  Once back at the compound, Sathan went to his royal office chamber and poured a hefty amount of Slayer blood into the metal goblet that sat upon his desk. Ingesting the liquid he reveled in the taste of it, rusty and dense. If only Etherya hadn’t created a world where Vampyres needed Slayer blood to survive. How different would his life be now? What world could he have built for his people? He swallowed the rest of the blood, along with a good bit of bitterness, and headed down to the dungeon.

  Once there he walked along the darkened hallway past the cells, many of them containing a male Slayer who had been captured in their last raid. Coming to the end of the hallway, he entered the infirmary and addressed the man in the white lab coat.

  “How many are left, Nolan?”

  The doctor turned away from the counter scattered with medical equipment and looked at his king. “Only eight, I’m afraid. They keep killing themselves even though we’ve promised them no harm if they bank quietly and peacefully.”

  Sathan studied the human. Dr. Nolan Price had come to live on his compound under the most peculiar circumstances. Due to his actions to protect Sathan on the fateful day they met, and his discovery of the Vampyres, Etherya had granted the man immortality. For three-hundred years he had lived on the compound and used his medical knowledge to try to extend the lives of the Slayers they abducted.

  His job was quite difficult though, as the bastard Marsias had commanded all abductees to commit suicide upon capture. This left Sathan with a rather strange task. He must abduct Slayers so that he could bank their blood, but also wanted to extend the prisoners’ lives so that he could perform fewer raids on their compound. If only their idiot king could see how futile this was.

  He had tried over the centuries to show some sort of goodwill and gestures of kindness to the inferior species. He had never abducted any women or children and made it illegal for any soldier to do so. No matter how bloody the war, he wished to retain as clean a conscience as possible.

  The orders were clear: abduct only twenty to thirty men at a time. The people of his kingdom, with their four compounds, could survive on the banked blood of thirty Slayers. A Vampyre needed to drink Slayer blood every two to three days to stay alive. Based on that knowledge he thought the Slayer king would give up the first thirty soldiers after the first raid and be done with them.

  But no. The Slayer king was stubborn. This frustrated Sathan to no end. Couldn’t he see that he didn’t want to murder his people? That the raids were a blight on his soul that he could barely tolerate?

  “Of course not,” he muttered to himself, rubbing his forehead in frustration.

  “What was that?” Nolan asked.

  “Nothing. Do everything you can to keep this batch of soldiers alive. I don’t want to plan another raid while we’re still searching for Arderin.”

  “Will do,” the human said. “I miss my little student, with her big smile and curious mind. I hope you find her soon.”

  Sathan nodded. “Me too. I’m happy to hear that she smiles at you. At least I know that someone makes her happy.”

  “You’re a good brother, Sathan,” he said. “She loves you with all her heart. She’s just stubborn and willful. Like some others I know,” he finished wryly.

  “Truer words, my friend,” Sathan said, patting the doctor on the shoulder. “Keep them alive,” he commanded once more before turning to walk back down the dark corridor. When he was in the middle of the murky hallway, surrounded by the Slayers in their cells, he spoke to them in the darkness.

  “I do not wish to harm you, Slayers. I only wish to harvest your blood to keep my people alive. Each one of you who dies represents another soldier that we have to rip away from their post, from their loved ones. I know your king has given you orders to end your life but think of your fellow Slayers. They benefit from you staying alive.”

  His statement was met with mutterings from the dim cells. Fuck you Vampyre…blood sucking murderer…I’ll die before I feed one more Vampyre scum…

  He’d heard it all before but it still never ceased to amaze him how deep the hatred was. They would rather sacrifice their life, and the countless lives of their fellow soldiers, than feed his people.

  And didn’t that just fucking suck.

  With a resigned sigh, the Vampyre king exited the dungeon.

  Excerpt from The Ancient Manuscript of the Slayera Soothsayers

  Book 7 – The Invention of the Mighty Eight-Shooter

  Due to their self-healing abilities, our mighty Commander Kenden found the Vampyres extremely difficult to injure.

  Their capacity to die in battle was even rarer.

  Knowing that he had to create a weapon that would stop our slaughter by our evil enemy, the great Commander Kenden invented the eight-shooter.

  The weapon, fashioned from wood and later from steel, would deploy eight small bullets at once.

  The bullets would pierce each chamber of a Vampyre’s eight-chambered heart simultaneously.

  This meant certain death for the Vampyres and our great people began to emerge as equals in the War of the Species.

  Chapter 5

  Marsias could remember the first time he saw Rina. Clear as day, the image was burned into his brain like a brand on a grazing animal’s skin. He had been so young, a man of only twenty, full of hope and life. His father, the great Slayer aristocrat Attikus, had sent him to the castle to meet with King Valktor. Attikus was ready to retire from the council and wanted Marsias, his first-born heir, to take his place. The king had agreed to meet with him to assure he was worthy and he was determined not to let his father down.

  As he approached the castle, with its cold grey stones and imposing mahogany doors, he’d heard the most amazing sound. Like a mel
ody that was played by the sweetest symphony, a woman was laughing nearby. Turning his head, he looked through the window of the castle.

  She sat on a high-backed chair, holding a glass of champagne. Surrounded by other women, she was the only one who existed in his eyes. Opening her perfect, pink lips, she threw her head back, laughing so thoroughly that he wished he’d heard the joke. The slim line of her neck beckoned for his caress and her straight, raven-black hair fell to her waist since her head was tilted back.

  Unable to move, he stared at her, the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen. As if Etherya herself slowed the progression of time, the woman slowly raised her head and turned her face to him. White teeth formed a glowing smile as she locked onto his eyes.

  Any breath that was left in his now shaking lungs was expelled when he saw the deep green of her irises. His shattered mind could only form one word: mine.

  Regaining his composure, he met with Valktor and the king, whom he’d always found to be kind and jovial, had approved his request to take his father’s place on the council. Pride surged through him that he would be able to represent his people with honor.

  After their meeting, Valktor walked him to the sitting room.

  “Ladies,” the king said, addressing the five women who were sitting in the plushy chairs, “this is Marsias. He will be taking his father’s place on the council.”

  The women all rushed to shake his hand. After all, a handsome, young aristocrat was a valuable asset to an unwed Slayer female. Only one hung back, refusing to leave her seat. After greeting the other women, he approached her.

  “Hello,” he said, bowing. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Rina.”

  She gave a nod and saluted him with her champagne glass. “The pleasure is mine. I am very fond of your father. I hope you have what it takes to replace him.”