“I believe you wished to know why you would have to wait a long time to be with Elyse. The simple and honest answer is that both of you will be different people. You are immortal now. You cannot die, at least not easily. You will meet again when Elyse has grown up. That could be twenty years, or eighty. It depends when she dies here.”
“So I’ll never get to see her again?” This saddens me. I still do not completely believe him, but I am becoming more inclined to do so as our conversation continues.
“You will, but as I said, you will have to change. You have to adapt to the life of a Lys-Karalis and become what you are. You must stop seeking her out. If you continue to search, you will live until the end of time and you will never be happy again. Her absence would devour you, I am sure.”
“But how can I trust your words?”
“I don’t need trust from you at the moment. All I ask is that you believe me. Our friendship will blossom and the trust between us will grow naturally. I have seen it.”
“Is the world all pre-planned then?”
“Oh no. When I see into the future, I can see the most likely occurrence. The vision becomes more prone to change the further I see. Here.”
He reaches into one of the pockets of his coat and produces a small bronze disc, which he hands to me. I take it, turning the reflective disc over a few times in my hands. It seems to be just a flat piece of polished metal.
“What is this?”
“Just hold it up and look into it.”
I do as he instructs and Kellum moves around me to look over my shoulder at the mirrored metal. As I peer into the reflective surface I see nothing but the dark wet sand and rocks of the beach.
“Hmm.” Kellum sounds puzzled, so I turn to look up at him.
“What? What is it?”
“Tell me what you see in it.”
“Just the beach. What was I supposed to see?”
Kellum whistles and sits down next to me, his coat dragging over the sand, smoothing it a little. He runs his hands through his hair. I wait for an answer, growing more impatient as time slowly passes.
“You didn’t see your reflection?”
It hits home. I was looking directly into the mirror. I should have had a reflection.
“No...” I say absentmindedly, my thoughts elsewhere.
“You should have had one. You still have a…”
“I still have a what?” I ask impatiently. Kellum fails to reply. He seems deep in thought. I’m not letting this pass, so I ask again, only louder, “I still have a what?” My voice is far more menacing this time, as I use its new sound to the fullest. Kellum looks at me and nods slowly.
“You... you still have a soul. I do not, that is why I have no reflection.” His expression suddenly changes. It is as if he has just tripped over an idea. “You must be their leader.”
“Whose?”
“The Lys-Karalis’.”
“I thought you said–”
“I know I said Liesl was the leader, but what if you are the natural commander: created with neither the weaknesses of vampires nor the few penalties that the Lys-Karalis suffer.”
This is all beginning to go way over my head. Kellum seems to accept his own reasoning.
“I intended to show you what you looked like, but that is impossible now, being as you have no reflection. I will describe you.”
“I suppose you could. But I already know what I look like.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. And I apologise for the brutality.”
What does that mean? He continues, cutting me off before I even begin to ask him what he meant.
“Yours is currently the face of a bloated corpse. Your eyes are sunken, your lips stretched back to expose your viciously sharp teeth, which are framed in a face of rotten flesh with two pearl white eyes staring out. You have high widows peaks and a small semi circular scar slightly off centre on your forehead. Your nose, though bloated and decaying, is of sound shape and form. Your jaw line is hard, but striking. There is the stain of years around your eyes, many wrinkles, set deep into your skin. Your hair is flecked with grey as is your short beard.”
I understand what he meant about brutality now. I guess that explains what he meant only too well. And the face he described was my own, though without the decay or the wrinkles or the beard. I reach up a hand to my face and feel the hair there. It must be a just under a half-season’s worth. I was clean-shaven on my wedding night. Do I really look like a dead man? That would explain the reactions of the people I had met so far.
Kellum speaks again, snapping me out of my thoughts. I let the bronze mirror drop to the beach. It lands edge down and imbeds itself in the sand, jutting out like a shining fish jumping from a sea of grains.
“Do you see now, my ‘Karalis?”
“You’re saying I’m a monster. If I look like that…”
“But did you see nothing else?”
“Nothing else?” What does that mean?
“You did not see me either.”
“No… no, you were not in the bronze… why?”
“As vampires we have no reflection. If you will accept that I have not lied about your lineage and our race I shall continue… unless you have further doubts about we vampires?”
“No, not really… yes. Blood. I have not felt the hunger which goes along with the legends. I do not crave blood. Should I?” The question just kind of jumped out of my mouth. I’m not sure I even want to know the answer.
“Yes, you do, and you need it. When you consume human blood you will absorb power, and with that life energy you will be able to make yourself look human again. You will even be able to heal any wounds you incur with it.”
“But I do not feel hungry and I have not eaten or drunk since I dug myself up.”
“Again, this is because you are a Lys-Karalis. You do not have an insatiable hunger, but in order to have the abilities that blood allows us, you must drink of it. Remember when I found you, and how you spotted me. That was the taste of my blood in the water. It was a bitter taste if you remember. That bitterness was the vampire in my veins and the fact that my blood is dead: living human blood is sweet and sickly.”
“So if I were to devour blood I’d be able to look normal, like I used to?”
“Not entirely. You will never again look like you do in your memories. You have aged beyond them. You only remember up to your wedding night, am I right?”
“Yes…”
“Yet sixteen and a half years had passed when you rose, yes?”
“Something like that…” How does he know? I should be more careful.
“How did you die?”
“I… I don’t know. How did you know what I can remember?”
“I have witnessed this conversation already. Allow me to tell you how you died.” I nod for him to continue. “You were stabbed in your sleep. During your life you made an enemy of someone and that person murdered you. I cannot tell you more, as it occurred in the past.”
“How do you know?”
“I saw it happen in my visions. Check your chest. You were stabbed three times, twice in the gut, once in the heart, that much I know.”
Under my soaking wet suit, the one I’d been buried in, I have several layers of bandages wrapped around my torso.
Peeling the bandaging away I find three knife wounds, two in the gut and one to the heart, just like he said. They’re swollen and look infected, but they don’t hurt, and they aren’t numb. Kellum must have done this, how else could he have known when even I didn’t?
“You killed me!”
“No my ‘Karalis, I merely knew it would happen. You have to believe me. I know that will be hard for you, but it is something you must do in order to continue your journey.”
“And why do I need to trust you to be able to find Elyse?”
“Because, my ‘Karalis, I will travel with you and guide you down the roads you have to travel to find her. I cannot show you to your destination, but it is I who will start
you off on your journey.” He seems to almost be pleading with me. He’s almost begging.
“And if I refuse your help?”
“As I said, you’ll die whilst searching for her, or you’ll miss her completely.”
My head aches from trying to understand. Do I go along with Kellum, offering him a glimmer of trust? Or do I strike out on my own, ignoring his warnings, but at the risk of losing Elyse forever.
“So I’m just supposed to trust you blindly?”
“Not really, we will travel together. And yes, you’ll have to believe me to begin with, but in time you will learn that I speak the truth and accept that I only wish to help you and our race. With time comes trust.”
“And I’m supposed to lead the vampires somehow?”
“Yes, you will lead us to victory over the Calcians. But that is a long way off. First we have to forge a path for you in this world. It will be hard at first for you to accept what must be done to achieve your goals, but in the end you will succeed.”
I’m still not sure. But I guess I can use Kellum until he proves himself either one way or the other. He suddenly stands and looks about, scanning the island.
“I’m starving, where can I get some food around here? You could use a good feeding too.”
If he described me truly, then I guess he’s right.
The Third Chapter
- Lys-Karalis -
93 days until the birth of a god
The 16th day of Winter-Fall, 1537
We are walking along the beach. We’ve still not found any food and we seem to be heading back toward Khorale. The vampire is talking at me, but I’ve not been paying attention.
“...When a new Lys-Karalis is born, it is tradition for them to be inaugurated there, with every other Lys-Karalis and as many of the vampiric race that can feasibly get there. Naturally, being so advanced, you won’t need an inauguration. You’re the natural–”
I’ve not known him long, and I’ve already figured out that he’s a bit of a know-it-all. It’s annoying, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it if I choose to allow him to travel with me.
“Where are we heading?”
“To your hometown, Khorale.”
No, no I don’t want to go there. I’ve caused enough damage to that town already. I’m not sure what’ll become of me if I go back there. I might not be able to control myself.
“We’re not going there.”
“Ah, okay. We could... We could go to Lankar, we might not make it there before dawn, but I’m sure we could find somewhere to hide out during the day.”
“That will be fine.”
Kellum nods and begins to walk a little faster. I have no trouble keeping up with him, but he soon begins his ‘teaching’ again, and I do have difficulty listening to that. I keep walking tirelessly along the rock strewn beach, taking in whatever I can that Kellum is telling me. It’s not a lot.
***
When we were about a mile past Khorale we began to head across the low sloping land towards Lankar. I can’t remember the place, but it is familiar. Kellum has found himself an abandoned shed, and I’ve come to take a look at the place.
Lankar is a medium sized village, which has its own hall, setting it apart from other settlements of this size, and many larger ones.
To begin with I had stayed with him in the dark shed, attempting to listen as he spoke and spoke about unimportant things. I soon decided to have a look at the village. I’ve kept my distance so far. As bits of the village are familiar I guess that I must have come to this place while I was alive. That seems to be the only answer.
***
We are walking into the centre of the village of Lankar, to a small cobbled square with the hall on the south front. Houses have been built on the northern, eastern, and western sides of the square.
Kellum continues to school me on the ‘principles’ of being a vampire. This schooling has gone on for most of the daytime, as neither of us need sleep.
“With feeding, it is much the same as the myths and stories say; we bite, draw blood, and drink of it. Normal vampires usually drain their victims, unable to stop drinking because the demon inside has them in a thrall. You, on the other hand, will be able to control your demon, allowing you to take only what you need, meaning that you won’t have to kill. But as a Lys-Karalis it will be expected that if you feed on someone, you’ll either kill them, or turn that lucky individual.”
“Turn? That’s when I make someone into a vampire isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Kellum nods, “you must drink of their blood, and they must drink of yours, but you have to kill them, after all, who ever heard of a vampire that’s alive?”
There is so much about vampires that I never knew.
“Does a vampire you turn have to obey you? That way you could have slaves forever.”
“No. Firstly, we are not invulnerable; we are immortal. That holds a significant difference that many of our kind seem to shun. We can be killed, but we will not die of natural causes. And we will always live on in some kind of way because if we are killed the body is destroyed and the demon returns to Hell, along with the memories of being a vampire. Duck into this alley.”
I do without question, and Kellum keeps talking.
“As for whether they have to obey you, the simple answer is no, although many newly turned vampires tend to stick with their sire. It gives them someone to learn from and some kind of protection if they get found by Calcian Hunters.”
Kellum gestures that we should wait. I do so, leaning on the alley wall, while he leans opposite me. I recite to him what I have learned.
“Calcian Hunters travel the land in search of vampires, witches, and demons. They want to kill them all so that the followers of Calcia will be safer.”
Kellum smiles, exposing his vampiric teeth.
“Very good, you are learning. Though they hunt more than just our kind, witches, and demons; they will hunt and exterminate anything that is thought to be evil or sinister by the Church of Calcia. They killed all of the werewolves, they hunt the fey-kind, lamiae, spirits, revenants, harpies, golems. Anything they fear will hurt them.”
What even are half of those things? I hear something, which stops me asking. At the far end of the alley, and walking towards us, is a youth of about ten and four, probably on his way to work in one of the taverns.
We return to walking in silence and as we are about to meet, the boy steps to the side of the alley to let us pass by. Kellum’s hand shoots out and catches the boy’s throat, stilling a scream before it can pass his lips and get out into the freezing night air. Bending down he whispers into the boy’s ear. My senses allow me to hear his words.
“Do not scream if you wish to live. You will take a message to the most gallant men of your village. Tell them that there are vampires here for the women and children. Once you have roused the men you may run as fast as your little legs can carry you. But know this boy: if you run before our message is passed on we will hunt you down and make you suffer eternal torment in the pits of Hell. Understand?”
The boy nods, but barely. A smell punctuates the air: urine. The boy has pissed himself. A vicious grin spreads across my face, full of malice and delight. The poor boy whimpers even more at the sight and Kellum releases his grip. He falls as his legs are now too weak to support his terrified body.
The power of just a few words really is amazing. Something within me stirs, but it is not a physical thing. I know it is the demon. I let out a bestial roar which echoes through the night, and the terrified boy scrambles, crawling on all fours until he can get himself up to shakily run away. Kellum looks at me, eyebrows raised.
“What?” I say, knowing he’s wondering why I roared. I continue to ignore the unspoken question.
“So, we’re going to fight the men in the village? That could be fun. I’ve not really tested myself yet,” I say to Kellum.
“No, we’re not,” he replies, confusing me.
“Then why have you called them out
? Do you know that something’s going to happen?”
“Yes, something is going to happen. That boy is going to come back here in the morning, scared witless at what he’ll find, only to find exactly what he expects: a massacre. But ‘we’ are not going to fight them. You are,” he explains.
“What? On my own? I can’t take on an entire village single-handed!”
“But you won’t be on your own.”
“I won’t be on my own? You said you weren’t–”
“The demon within,” Kellum cuts in, “you can draw magic from it. That magic will help you win the coming battle. A trial by fire is how you will start your training.”
As if on cue, my ears hear the sounds of running feet, and a group of large men fill the alley. I immediately sense their weaknesses, as if the demon has indicated the way it thinks this battle will be won. I like its thinking. Their brute strength and slow speed will be their unmaking. Smiling at Kellum, I nod to let him know that I accept his test.
I charge forward, balling my fists and pushing my body to its human limits and beyond. This is the fastest I’ve ever run, faster than any normal man could hope to run. When I reach the first man standing against me, I do not stop, but punch out at his stomach. I feel flesh rend and hot juices spatter up my arm as something hard scrapes down the side of my forearm.
By putting my hand through him I’ve slowed myself dramatically, but the group of men have stumbled and are shaken by the severity and speed of my attack, allowing me a flicker of a moment to assess the group and my next move within it. That time is all I need. Of the group of men, six strong discounting the one impaled on me, two have retreated into the open of the main square. Three huddle to the left side of the alley, and a lone man stands on the right, fear etched in his face.
Ripping my arm free of the first victim’s gut, I round on the loner, I barge into him, shoulder first. There is a wonderful noise of bones breaking that sets my soul alight with joy. I half-turn to the three men still in the alley, but bloodlust takes control and I round on the crushed man. He is still alive, but only barely. I grab him by the shoulder and lift him: his head lolls to one side at an angle that shouldn’t be possible. I sink my teeth into the exposed neck and begin to suck. It is a slow process. Fists start to fly.
The Vampire's Heart Page 4