by Adam Watson
He had stayed silent during the ‘Meeting of Councils,’ and that was something he deeply regretted - deep down he knew the reason why. To avoid a fucking war. That's it? That's the reason he stayed silent? To avoid a fucking war with the other clans? If only he had known back then what he knew now. I should have executed the entire council for even contemplating such heresy. That heresy had almost cost them their entire race. Vuko sighed, he still hated thinking about the consequences of inaction - even after all this time, but not to worry, he wouldn't be making that mistake again.
He had learnt in the following centuries that if you kill the problem, then you no longer have a problem. Enemies can't think when they're dead, and he was ready to extinguish the whole lot of them. He had already dealt with the other clans and proved himself to be the greatest of all Drakhar generals.
Two hundred years of war had finally yielded a result. There were no longer twelve clans of Drakhar - now there was only one. War and butchery of his own kind, mass execution of rival clan aristocracy and the amalgamation of the remnants into his own clan had brought his army into a position where it was finally strong enough to storm Castle Candelier.
He reached the tunnels beneath the lower levels of the castle. Almost everyone knew that Castle Candelier had tunnels beneath it, in the levels below the dungeons, but what most people, even the people who lived in the castle did not know, was that these were also a gateway to the catacombs which lay even further below.
He knew though, he knew everything about this castle. It was his home once, a long time ago, before his clan was cast out by the humans. King Halgor had been the one responsible; a religious zealot on a holy crusade. He was long dead now, but his legacy still continued to this day. Vuko smiled his wry, sardonic smile again; thin black lips drawing out into a line, eyes shining in the night. This would, in fact, be the last day of that legacy, and he took great pleasure in knowing that he would be the one to end it. We're taking back what you stole from us Halgor, such a shame you aren't around to see it.
He entered the catacombs. There were more of his kind around, excavating, repairing, restoring - it was a hive of activity. These were the lowest ranking of the Creed. ‘The twisted' as they were referred to now, were Drakhar that had been inflicted with the ‘Curse of Wotan’ - not true Drakhar, but deformed mutations; nothing more than mindless slaves. Still, Vuko hoped that the Drakhar scholars would someday find a cure for the curse - true Drakhar that could think for themselves would be much more useful than a bunch of animates cursed by Wotan.
Wotan! The very thought made him spit onto the ground - what a vile creature he was. One of the new gods. Vuko hated the new gods with a passion. They had brought nothing but death and destruction to the Drakhar. The new gods favoured the humans, helping them rise to power by bringing their 'light' into the world. Vuko still had faith in the old gods, the gods of darkness, the gods of the night. They were the good gods; they still favoured the Drakhar. They know we are the true bloods of this world. The humans put them to sleep, but soon they will awaken.
It was Wotan that created the twisted - those deformed and misshapen Drakhar; those mindless creatures, those foul abominations. 'The Curse of Wotan' was something all new Drakhar parents dreaded. Would their children be the next to be infected? Would they be the ones to bring a new abomination into the world? Would they have to cast their own child away to the handlers the moment it was born?
Vuko shook his head. These were questions straight from the realm of nightmares, and sometimes he thought Wotan himself was from the realm of nightmares too - because of him seventy-five out of a hundred Drakhar were born ‘twisted’. Never mind Wotan, Solus Bal will deal with your blasphemies soon enough. The grim black smile graced his face once more.
Ahead of him, he could see a revered Drakhar woman. She was dressed in priestly robes of a deep, dark purple that were trimmed in gold. Magical sigils emanated a pale purple light down the front of her robe. Her belt was ornate and intricately carved. A golden skull of some monstrous creature served as a buckle; three smaller ornate skulls hung down as accessories. Her fragile frame was disguised by vaulted pauldrons that spiked towards the sky.
Like all Drakhar her hair was as white as snow, her skin a light grey slate and her eyes a dark ruby red. Upon her long and luxurious hair, she wore an ornate headdress of gold and white gold; two antler-like structures protruded from the top in a vee shape, giving her a horned appearance.
"How goes the excavation Katra?" he asked, as he approached her presence. Startled the woman turned around to face him.
"Ah General Vlad," she replied. "It is good to see you." Her face was alight with joy. "We have had the twisted working day and night for the last month on the excavations. We have made tremendous progress and should be reaching the tomb any time now." Vuko was pleased, he had been waiting a long time, almost two centuries, to excavate his brother's tomb - the thought that they would soon be reaching it almost filled him with joy ... almost.
"Yes, commendations to the handlers … they are doing an excellent job."
The humans had buried the tomb, sealing it off from the outside world; making it inaccessible and unobtainable. Perhaps they hoped it would be forgotten, perhaps they thought the Drakhar would simply give up and walk away. Perhaps they are fools.
Humans lived short lives and had even shorter memories. The Drakhar would never forget where their king lay. The Drakhar would never give up and just walk away - even if they wanted to, for the King of the Drakhar was more than just an ordinary king, he was the High Priest and the conduit with their god Solus Bal. All Drakhar could feel the power of the priest-king no matter where they were in the world, and all Drakhar felt it was their duty to serve and protect him. The humans didn't know this ... the humans were fools.
"Thank you General, I will pass on your kind words." Katra cast her eyes down coyly and approached the General more informally. "Vuko," she started, brushing her hand against his arm.
"What's wrong Katra?" he asked, looking down at her. She looked back up to meet his gaze.
"Vuko, I want you to know that I'm glad you were the one who led us through the darkness." Vuko smiled, he knew what she was talking about. The darkness was what the Drakhar had been calling the time since the priest-king had been entombed by the humans - the time since they had been cut off from their god.
"Thank you Katra, that means a lot to me. I know I'm nothing compared to Eefest, but someone had to act before the humans killed us all."
"Only one of us can talk directly to Solus Bal. No-one can compare to Eefest in that way, not even me and I am the High Priestess." She laughed light-heartedly. "But you are the one that held us together Vuko. You are the one that united the clans and made us powerful enough to retake Candelier. You are the one who will get our king back, and you are the one who will bring Solus Bal back to us … and for that, I thank you."
Vuko considered her words. Yes, they were true, he had led them for the last two centuries and was now considered the greatest general the Drakhar had ever produced, and yet he never really felt like he was the leader. Lead an army to battle and bloodshed? Yes, he could do that, and he could do that very well, but rule the lands and inspire the people to go out into the world and do great deeds? No, that was not him. That was his brother. That had always been his brother, and that would always be his brother.
"Together we will bring back glory to the Drakhar, High Priestess." His black lips thinned together as he smiled his wry, sardonic smile; his eyes shone red. Battle and bloodshed … he had centuries of battle and bloodshed. Butchering thousands of his own kind, melding them together into a force of reckoning, but that bloodshed was a drop in the ocean compared to the blood he was going to unleash upon the human world. Once Eefest is released and Solus Bal is with us, we will be unstoppable. "You can count on that."
"I have no doubt, with you to lead our armies General." The pair started to make their way to the end of the excavations. The General’s
footfalls were loud and heavy; the High Priestesses could hardly be heard at all.
Vuko looked around at the surrounding halls as he strode down the corridor. The walls were dirty, caked in dust, with large clumps of dirt still stuck in the corners. Some of the statues and ornate pillars could be seen poking through the earth but had been left largely untouched - they were a secondary priority. This corridor was grand once, he thought. It will be again. First, they had to reach and excavate the Temple of Solus Bal, which was currently nothing more than a tomb in its present state. Then High Priestess Katra Varta had to perform the rituals necessary to raise his brother and king from the dead - once raised his brother would know what to do.
"Will he be the same as he was before he was sealed?" He had often worried that after all this time his brother may have lost all memory of who he was.
"He will Vuko, but he will awaken to find that it is we who have changed." Vuko nodded his head. It made perfect sense, two centuries of infighting had changed the Drakhar.
"I wonder if he will like the change." Vuko sounded worried, if his brother didn't like what the Drakhar had become, he would be the one to get the blame.
"Do not worry so, Vuko. He may not like what we have become, but what choice did we have? What choice did you have? The clans were divided, some had even turned their backs on reviving him. He will understand Vuko, without Solus Bal to guide us, we had to do what was necessary. He will understand that we had to get both him and Solus Bal back ... at any cost, for without them, the Drakhar are surely lost."
"I hope you are right Katra." Vuko agreed with the logic, but he couldn't be sure. They had changed so much and in Vuko's mind not for the better.
"Mistress Varta! Mistress Varta!" They turned to face the shouting; Vuko's guards ready with their swords drawn. It was one of the handlers - a female Drakhar with whitish-grey skin. She wore black leather armour with silver trim and a dual sash. One half was purple silk, and the other half was turquoise leather. Her hair was in the typical handler style; pulled back with a long, extended topknot - it swished from side to side as she ran.
"What is it Nieci?" asked Katra, with a look of uncertainty. The handler continued to run towards them with a big smile across her face.
"Come quick, we've found it!" Katra Varta and Vuko Vlad slowly looked each other in the eye - they both knew what 'it' was.
"Let's go!" They all rushed down the half-excavated corridor; following the handler's swishing topknot. Feelings … a mixture of excitement and dread began to well up inside Vuko. This is it. The Temple of Solus Bal. A tear ran down the side of Vuko's face. Solus Bal, it's been so long, forgive me. He wasn't sure what would happen to him when they finally awakened their god. Would he be blessed and exalted into the world or would he be cast out of it and destroyed? It was sometimes hard to tell what the gods would do - either way, he was ready to face his judgement.
"Here ... look!" Nieci sounded as excited as the rest of them - she had missed her god too. The handler pointed to a large square stone jutting out of a wall of earth, even Vuko untrained in such things knew what it was.
"It's a cornerstone of the base of the Temple," remarked Katra excitedly. "We’ve found it! We've found the Temple of Solus Bal!" Vuko looked around, work had come to a standstill, everyone had stopped to watch the reaction of their leaders.
There were hundreds of twisted over the worksite, but there were also handlers, scholars, some nobility, soldiers, guards and other assorted people helping in the excavation. He knew the Drakhar, he knew how they thought, and he knew what motivated them. Strong leadership for one, words of inspiration for another. It was how he got to where he was today, and even though this was no battle of war, it was just as important - he knew what he had to do.
"Sisters! BRRRROTHERS!" he yelled, commanding and getting the attention of every Drakhar in the area. "And now the time has come to hand, to show our strength and make our stand." He threw his hands up in the air dramatically. "Behold," he continued, pointing to the cornerstone. "The Temple of Solus Bal comes once again within our grasp. So rejoice my brethren, for soon the Priest-King Eefest will be resurrected and returned to the world … and with him will come a new age of darkness!” The Drakhar watched their general in silence. “Solus Bal returns to guide us, the time of the Drakhar comes again … the humans cannot stop us, we will triumph! We will rule once more, just like in the days of old!"
A chorus of cheers and applause followed, with much hollering of voice and celebration; some of the Drakhar even started to dance in the hall. The General smiled his wry, sardonic smile again. Good, at least I know these Drakhar are with me.
"Inspiring words, General," commented the High Priestess, dragging her soft, delicate fingers across the stone. "I will have every handler available clearing the tomb. We will want to perform the ritual as soon as possible."
"Very well, Katra." Vuko's glowing red eyes stared straight onto the exposed skin between her breasts and down to her torso; multiple necklaces hung around her neck. "Make it as quick as you can. We don't want to give these humans time to regroup and storm the castle."
"Have faith General, the will of Solus Bal guides our hand now." The General bowed and nodded before turning around to walk away. Hold on brother, I'm coming. I need you back. His brother would be the leader once more, and what a relief that would be. No more thinking about what's right and what's wrong. No more thinking about whether or not this is what his brother would do or whether this is what Solus Bal would want of him. No thinking, just obeying. He could live with that - he just hoped that obeying meant killing humans.
This was going to be a time of reckoning; a redemption for past mistakes. The time had come to right the wrongs done to his entire race - the Drakhar true-bloods would rule once more.
4. THE TORAC: INQUISITION OF KARA
Slowly, Dray woke up. He didn't open his eyes, but conscious thought was returning to his mind. He could feel his body, the pain had subsided considerably, and for that he thanked the gods. He had never been religious, believing it was just a tool to control people, but the fact that he still lived made him question everything.
He lay there pondering what had happened to him. He could feel that he was naked and that there were other presences in the room … he didn’t care though; he was still weak, and they were helping take away the pain.
The air in the room was warm and slightly humid. He felt comfortable despite the fact that he had nothing covering him. He wondered how long he had been laying there and what had happened to the Oracle - it felt like it had been a long time.
The wounds he had suffered: the gouged neck, the gored torso, the broken back - all felt like they had closed over and somehow repaired themselves. He could still feel the pain, but it had diminished significantly.
He could feel warm oil being poured onto his body. It felt soothing and helped take away the pain. Soft, delicate hands massaged the oil into his aching limbs, and he could feel the healing properties of it reaching deep into the muscle tissue. It felt as though it was seeping into his bones; knitting together the breaks and fractures. It felt so good, he revelled in the rejuvenation - causing his body to stir.
"Sssshhhh," whispered a soft feminine voice. He could feel her hands pushing him back. "Lay still." She sounded young and beautiful, but he could not be sure. "You're not strong enough to get up yet." Dray settled back down; he knew her words to be true, and once he settled she continued with her massage, softly rubbing the oil into his body with her sweet caress.
All Dray wanted to do was sleep and recover, but his mind wouldn’t rest. He needed to know what had happened to the Oracle, he needed to know she was safe.
"O-Ora ..." A delicate finger pressed against his lips making him stop.
"Ssshhhh, don't try to talk. Just lay there and rest." Dray relaxed, his head rolling to the side - he was too weak to argue. But the Oracle, I need to know. His eyelids were as heavy as lead weights, but he forced them open.
He
could see that he was in a chamber. There was a light mist in the air, like steam vapours, which warmed the room. There were two stone beds, his naked body lay upon one of them. Over him stood a young female acolyte dressed in a dark-green robe; her head covered with a simple hood and her face obscured by shadow. He could tell that she was slender, but not much else.
Another female acolyte stood at the second stone bed. She too was dressed the same as the first with very little to tell them apart. Below her, a beautiful dark-haired woman lay upon the bed. When he realised who it was his heart quickened - it was the Oracle.
She lay on the bed with her eyes closed. Her blood-stained clothes had been removed. Dray could not help but stare. It was strange, he felt like he had feelings for the Oracle, almost like he loved her, but ... he didn't even know her. He didn't know a thing about her, except that he had to protect her. He didn’t even know her name, yet ever since he put that ring on ...
The two acolytes looked at each other smiling. He was starting to get hard, and one of them giggled. He didn't care, he didn't care what they thought - it was the Oracle that was making him like that. The acolyte standing next to him casually rested her hand on his knee.
As he gazed at the Oracle, he noticed that the blood and bruising were gone. Her long, dark hair had been washed and brushed. Her skin looked smooth and as white as porcelain, her breasts were pert, and between her legs was a light covering of dark pubic hair.
The acolyte’s hand made its way up the inside of Dray's leg, slowly caressing the hard muscle, further and further up - he was engorged and as hard as a rock. The second acolyte nodded to the first with a cheeky smile encouraging her friend to continue.
Dray was desperate. His body was tense, his breathing was heavy, he couldn't move or speak, but he knew what he wanted, he wanted to take the Oracle right there, right in that room. He wanted to climb on top her and thrust himself deep inside.