The Vapor

by Nathan Parks

“Fashionably, if I may say so,” she noted.

  “Of course.” He and his troupe made their way around the side of the table and took their places on the table’s right side, just down from where Elisheth sat. Kadar noticed that she had left the side of “prestige” for the Nephelium, the Outcast Clan.

  Right behind the Nephelium leader entered a few fledgling Clan leaders . . . clearly not Overlords yet, as their Clans were small and usually paid allegiance to a larger Clan for whom they fought.

  “Oh, how clever she really is,” Arioch was thinking to himself as Kadar and his group entered and sat down. “What is going on in your mind, Hecate? What are you conspiring? Why now?”

  Adramelech was seething. He was starting to think he had walked into a trap, and he was feeling an itch to just finish it here and now.

  Since the Clan Wars had started, factions of “would-be” Clans had attempted coups . . . some successful and others destroyed. Familiars played among the different Houses, and everything the Fallen had worked toward had started falling apart.

  “Now that we are all here, it is time,” Hecate stated smoothly. “All of you are sitting here with your thoughts, apprehensions, and concerns; and I understand them all. Much of what I am about to say may even bring more concern, but I ask you to hear me out.”

  Her voice was almost melodic and hypnotic. She stood up; and her pup walked quietly away, curling up in the corner of the room. Her presence and demeanor captivated most in the room, and she had their attention.

  “The time has come to put our differences, if not to rest, at least to the side. We have something that is rising that is much bigger than each of us individually; and if we are not careful, we will miss it.”

  She moved about the room, showing to them that she had no Darkins or any of her Clan present. She had come by herself. True, they were in her domain; and with one word she would be surrounded . . . but that was not the point.

  “Tonight we must put it all on the table and once again join together as a family. Even the weak and wretched mortal families fight but are able to come together when it means for the good of the whole.”

  “Are you asking for us to just ‘trust’ again?” Arioch laughed, “Are you serious, Hecate? For what?”

  “Is there ever really trust amongst us, Arioch?” she laughed. “I am asking for us to find a common reason to walk beside each other and together hold the weapons of destruction . . . at least until we can see if we are able to rise once again to our rightful place.”

  A burst of deep laughter broke out. Hecate turned and glared at the person who seemed to mock her.

  “Kadar?”

  “We? You keep talking about ‘we,’ yet you forget that ‘we,’” indicating the Nephelium, “are still not accepted as an official Clan within the family. Why is it now that you are asking us to be a part of whatever it is that you are scheming?”

  She nodded. “True, Kadar, and even now I hesitate because there are none of you that are true Fallens . . . merely half.”

  “Is that considered flattery?” he questioned, almost mockingly.

  “Hear me out!” She snapped, placing both hands on the table and looking at him intently. “Let me explain it all to everyone. From there we can begin to work out the fine details. To all of you,” she continued, “I ask only one thing: to hear me out. Let me lay the reason that you are ALL here,” placing an emphasis on “all” as she looked hard at the Nephelium leader. “Then you decide what part you wish to commit to. I have promised all of you safe passage to here and back from where you came; so, if you choose to walk away from it all,” she paused, “you do so without any fear that you will not return to your Clans.”

  Arioch took a long drink, finishing the contents, and held up his glass. “Then let’s hear it! I have already grown weary of all of this. I feel like some bored chairman in a stock meeting instead of a leader of a dark and gothic Clan.”

  Hecate knew she had them all right where they needed to be. They wanted to know and yet were not ready to trust each other. This was good because the one thing they all had in common was the desire for the information from her. She had them. Now it was time to drop the guillotine.

  ◆◆◆

  “In the last five years, we have seen more division between the different Houses represented here than ever before. We didn’t even have this much division at the time we were exiled.” They all were listening to Hecate with intent. “Elisheth, even your House was unable to keep from the division that has threatened us.”

  The Ancient Overlord’s eyes raged. “How could we avoid that which we wanted no part of,” he responded as he glared at Adramelech, “when well over a hundred of my House were murdered in a cowardly effort to destroy that which was established from the start?”

  “Careful, Old Man . . . those are words and insinuations that will only escalate the fury that is already brimming to almost the tipping point tonight!” Adramelech stated with no emotion.

  Elisheth pushed back from the table and stood. He was tall, and his frame was chiseled with time. Arioch had heard of this original Overlord, but the stories could never have done him justice. He truly understood his power, his place, and his strength. He feared no one; this was evident.

  “Please!” Hecate soothingly but firmly spoke, “This is not going to get us anywhere. This is exactly what has kept us from gaining any ground within the mortal or even immortal realm. We should be gods ruling with authority and confidence . . . not schoolyard bullies fighting for what section of the monkey bars we will hold to!”

  Elisheth leaned his massive frame over the table toward Adramelech. “I will sit and listen to what she has to say. I may even agree tonight to go along with whatever cockamamie plan she devises tonight; but I will ensure one thing:” his fist clinching on the table as he spoke, “you may have been my brother at one time, but nothing except your blood will ever pay the debt of those your Clan murdered of my House . . . your eternal damnation!” He sat down and motioned to Hecate to continue.

  “My Brothers, we all have come from the same family. We all have shared the same burden of this mortal realm and the crushing blow of the exile. Together we have vowed to return to our home and from there control the mortal realm in the fullness for which we have always fought. You are just as aware as I am that we had one joining power, one force, that allowed all of us to come together as one united movement . . .”

  “Are you kidding me?” Arioch spat. “I have heard the stories of your bastard child for ages. I have heard how the original Overlords all gave up blood to save this bastard child . . . how all the elements of each Overlord grew within him and how he was to be the hero.”

  Hecate was seething, but Arioch continued, “Yet, where is he? Oh, yes, I forgot . . . he is with his daddy in the Abyss, isn’t he?”

  “Silence, Arioch!” she hissed.

  “No . . . wait . . . please! I’m getting to the good part,” he scoffed. “I guess he isn’t with his daddy because no one has ever proven that Mantus is his daddy. In fact, maybe it was Elisheth here . . . or Marduk . . . or was it . . .” he spoke, feigning a gasp, “a miracle baby?”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “You will silence that babbling rat trap of yours now before I rip that lower part of your jaw away and leave your serpent tongue flapping uselessly!” a booming voice spoke with warrior finesse. The door to the meeting room had opened; and everyone in the room, including Hecate, sat stunned and unable to move.

  “Good evening, Dear! I’m sorry I must have not gotten the correct time to the meeting on my invitation. So please, excuse my tardiness.”

  Immediately, without even having it to be suggested, every lieutenant and underling at the table stood and moved back to ensure that the unexpected guest could choose whatever seat in which he wished to sit.

  Hecate was the first to gather her wits about her as she stood to face her husband. “Mantus, I did not believe that you would be interested in attending a meeting of the Clan Over
lords.” She emphasized the last two words of her sentence.

  Mantus was one feared by many, yet many within this room had never laid eyes upon him. As he had taken the reins of command within the Gates of the Abyss and Underworld, he became a presence within the Fallens that no one wanted to cross or even see. The Abyss or Underworld was not a place where Fallens wanted to be or with which they wanted to associate.

  Mantus walked to the head of the table where Hecate sat and reached down and grabbed the goblet from which she had been drinking, spitting into it. As he swirled the excrement from his mouth inside the liquid, he stood glaring down at her. “Ah, my darling whore of a wife, could it be that my invitation did not make it to me because of your fear of what I may bring to the table?”

  She held his gaze. The two had been so volatile before, yet such a force with which to be reckoned. She would not allow him the satisfaction of seeing her skin crawling and her heart racing. This truly was not expected. What had brought him here? No one in this room would have told him about this meeting, so there would have been no way of his knowing . . . right?

  He placed the goblet down and made his way toward where Kadar sat, flanked by the Nephelium who had stood with the other underlings when Mantus walked in. As he reached him, Kadar stood and bowed slightly. “My Lord, I am grateful that, in fact, you did receive my invitation as my guest of honor here before the families.”

  “Kadar, I have never believed until now that your kind was needed or desired. You, in fact, with your invitation have proven every thought I had about the half breeds; but also, with your invitation you have shown me that you are more cunning and brazen than any of your kind before. I never stand in debt to any within the families, but I will say that your actions will not go unrewarded.”

  As Mantus finished, Kadar stood and gave up his seat at the table. Hecate could slit his throat with one move if she could reach him right now! How dare he! To be outwitted by this . . . this piece of garbage that she had invited only because of the exact cunningness of which Mantus was just speaking. She had underestimated him for sure, but she could guarantee that wouldn’t happen again.

  “So allow me, if I may, pick up where you, Hecate, so eloquently left off and where Arioch’s rotting breath attempted to fill in.” He looked with a side glance at the now tight-lipped Overlord.

  In fact, none of them looked as if they even could find their tongues . . . all but Elisheth, who was leaning back with ease and comfort. He had truly underestimated the young Assassin and his Clan. He was impressed. It had been way too long since the last time he sat in company with Mantus; and to watch Hecate squirm and the young, overconfident leaders sit in silence was golden!

  “What my darling wife was trying to state was that we have waited too long, allowing the Alliance, the Arch Council, and even ourselves to destroy any chance that we have to rise to the level of authority that we all used to have or believe that we should continue to have. If we have a chance, yes, it would be through Legion.

  “As you are all aware, there is only one way that we would be able to bring him back to his full essence: through the lifeblood of an immortal willingly sacrificed for another. Well, as I am sure that none of you are willing to stand and volunteer or, of course, my taking your blood from you . . .” he stated these last words looking over at Arioch, “would not meet the requirements. The only way that we can see that this will happen is if we are able to obtain the vial of blood that was saved from the death of Jah’s son . . . or one of you must willingly take one for the Family.

  “Now, there is something else of which I believe you all should be aware . . . and I am not sure if your gracious host was going to share this part.”

  Hecate was shooting visual daggers at him with all the effort she had within her. This was not the way this was supposed to go, and if he thought that he could waltz in here and . . .

  “As you are aware, there were many segments of Legion that were not fully put into captivity within the Abyss. Since that time, the elements of him have wreaked havoc upon mortals through the ages. Many of you have benefited from it, but what you are not aware of is that your host here has started secretly sending members of her House and her Darkins out to start bringing about followers of Dracon . . . or Legion. Her desire is that once he is released, the elements of him will already have a Clan following. Then with one swift move he will become whole and will already have a force to stand beside his mother’s Clan. Which of you would be able to stand? Which of your Houses will be able to withstand an onslaught of such force?”

  Hecate let out a scream and leaped across the table at him. Kadar jumped between her and Mantus and felt the nails from her right hand cut deep into his face. Blood began to flow; and with a strong right uppercut, he felt his fist crash against the open, screaming jaw of the Enchantress.

  Hecate fell to the side of the table. Before she could get up, she heard music to her ears as the vicious, violent, and savage raging bark from Cerberus blasted through the room. She felt his body fly over her, and the commotion that rang out after that was beyond chaos.

  Kadar’s assassin instincts kicked in from the moment his fist collided with Hecate’s jaw. As he felt her fall to the ground, he shoved Mantus backward and ducked as Hecate’s protector came flying at him. One of Cerberus’ heads missed its mark . . . but blast that second one! Kadar felt the jaws clamp down upon his arm that was protecting his head. He held the desire to scream out in pain and, instead, channeled the feeling of agony into his alert conscience. He was grateful that they had not frisked for weapons beforehand. He thrust upward with his legs from a squatting position; and at the same time, his left hand pulled a thin but sharp blade from a hiding place within his clothes. He thrust his hand upward with such force that he felt the underbelly of the creature part and the warmth of the inner contents swallow his hand. The blade was so sharp that it cut through with ease.

  Kadar felt the mouth of the mongrel loosen as the dog’s blood poured over the stone table. Kadar, for effect, jerked his hand the length of the body, gutting the dog from neck to hind end.

  Hecate could do nothing but look on in shock and horror, her appearance changing before the very eyes of all who were within the room. The picture of the alluring Enchantress was now gone, replaced with the enraged appearance of the dark, evil creature she was! Her canines were elongated; her hair became disheveled; and her eyes were completely inky black. She stood with fury and anger. Blood would be the only thing that would quench her thirst! She screeched as she lunged for Kadar; but instead, she felt strong hands pull her back and hold her firmly where she was.

  She turned, ready to lash out at whomever it was who dared restrict her and came face-to-face with Elisheth. “I don’t think so, Hecate. You created this tonight. You will be the one reaping from this tonight. All the trickery, pain, and anguish that would have come upon the Houses represented here tonight is now on you!”

  “You stand against me?” she screamed at him. “Me? You stand with this half breed and against one of the Originals? You owe me your life! I am the one who rescued you from death and instead got us exiled . . . a way for us to once again plan to return to our rightful place!”

  “You are wrong, Hecate! You are wrong, and I told you that if you double-crossed me again . . . then you would lose!”

  Her eyes widened in horror as a voice spoke from somewhere behind the chaos. There was no way! No! She was in charge! She was the Enchantress! She controlled them! She pulled the strings!

  Elisheth released his grasp as Hecate turned to face the crowd. It was not all the faces of the Overlords that were blanketed in anger and satisfaction that made her fall to her knees. No . . . but it was the face of Azrael.

  “What? I don’t . . . how?” She could not finish a complete sentence. “This is treason!”

  “Yes, you are correct but not in the manner to which you are inferring,” Mantus spoke. “You are the traitor here. Now is the time for you to stand trial among the Clans.
The truth will be known to all, and all that you have done through the ages will be exposed.”

  “You need me!” she seethed. “Legion will not follow you . . . any of you! He is my son!”

  “Maybe. Just maybe you are right, but the fact still remains that he was infused with the lifeblood of each of the original Overlords!” Mantus stated authoritatively. “And I venture to say that if he will listen to anyone, then he will also listen to his father.”

  Clasping her arms to her chest and rocking back and forth, she threw her head backward and laughed out loud . . . laughed with great fervor at this statement. “And who do you suppose that is?” she spat.

  She stood up from where she had fallen to her knees, attempting to re-obtain some form of dignity and strength. “Who do you believe is his father? You, Mantus? Maybe you, Azrael?”

  She looked at Elisheth. His eyes were stern, almost daring her to make the accusation. His glare did not cause her to falter in any shape or form. “Elisheth, have you not shared what the others have? So, could he not be yours? The one fact is that you do know he came from my body! You are aware that I am his mother, and if he will listen to anyone before any of you . . . it will be to me!”