“So, it really is true.”
“Yes, it is. Kassina was the subject of the Blood Red Moon prophecy. With her birth; the lord of darkness simply waited for the right opportunity. It came when my daughter and Danton were murdered by a foolish king.”
Karven slowed and Vartan sensed his disturbance.
Rolling waves glistened on the horizon.
“But you could have saved them!” Vartan said.
Karven blew jets of fire. “Bah! As humans? Stripped of our powers? We were weaklings and could do nothing but watch as our daughter’s life came to an abrupt end, and our granddaughter was taken into the grip of darkness.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Close to a thousand years ago.”
They broke free of land, soaring over the moving blanket of water.
“Karven, where is your daughter, Niesha? She would’ve been reborn?”
“You were always perceptive. Indeed, she was reborn. She never forgave us for not saving them, even though we were powerless to do so. Her heart darkened, and regardless of all of our efforts, she resisted our attempts to redeem her. When she came of age, she fled. I’ve never seen her since.”
Vartan’s eyes watered at his words, remembering his own loss of his beloved mother at the hands of the queen of the underworld.
Keturah’s voice entered his mind. He speaks the truth, Vartan. I sense sadness in his heart, as well as yours.
They circled around Greenhaven as if they were tethered to it by an invisible line. Vartan marvelled at the speed of Karven’s flight.
“I am sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like a child. I don’t know what came over me.”
“All is forgiven. What worries me is that you may have been overheard earlier, and rumours can spread like a sickness in a city’s soul.”
Vartan breathed deep and stared at their stronghold; the castle built to the size of a city. He remembered when the city prospered with its many trade routes. As a child, he could only view it on the horizon from his family’s farm.
How times have changed.
“You’re right, and if a sickness presents itself, then we will cure it. Tell me, is this why you fight? You feel responsible for all of this darkness?”
“Do I feel responsible for Kassina turning out the way she is? In a way, I suppose I do. But I never regret the day our daughter was born, and her choices were her own. I often find myself wondering, where could she be hiding?”
“Have you ever searched for her?”
“Ever? I watch for signs every day. There are guilds specialising in this, but I’ve been unable to approach them, and it’s too late. Whenever a shadow is cast by a dragon, I look up with hope. Whenever I take to the skies, I try to feel her presence. Truth be told, she could be anywhere or nowhere.”
Vartan turned back to see Shanka struggling to keep up. The skies were tinged with scarlet. Night was coming. He stifled a yawn. “It’s been a long day, and we have much to do. Let’s get home and rest tonight. I’ll need to gather everyone to discuss our plans tomorrow.”
“Of course. What are your thoughts?”
The dragon king descended toward the stronghold’s streets.
I’ve been following this prophecy blindly, trusting in the fact that my fate was being foretold. But I’ve seen too much for myself and I am starting to believe it. Our people crowned me as their prince. I have to prove myself worthy of the crown. I will show them what a real prince can do.
“Tomorrow, we discuss finding Talonsphere, and when we journey to discover the ancients’ realm, Daessar.”
Chapter 2 : Thirst Escapes Me
“The balance of souls has been disturbed and the loss of Greenhaven is a setback. It matters not. They managed to wipe out an entire vampire army, but they’ve seen nothing yet.
I cannot take Vampires’ souls and could sure use their reinforcement. Their deaths in Marithia only serve to weaken our power. We’ll regain what we lost, and bring their realm closer to merging with the underworld, where I will crush them under my fists like the ants they are.”
(Shindar - Lord of the Underworld)
Crondor, a town ravaged by a history of gruesome deaths, had far more graves than homes. It was known as a ghost town for more reasons than the lack of inhabitants. Vartan’s old ally, Tusdar, fled to this town in the hope of finding safety after the defeat of the vampire army and the failed attempt to keep Shindar in their realm. Since Tusdar had been turned by the now last of vampire royalty, Mestal, his heart had slowly darkened. At times, he felt his chest to see if a beat would waken him from the nightmare of his new existence.
His life had changed more than he had ever expected, and in a direction he could never have foreseen. He wasn’t a towering man, built for battle, or born of noble blood, but being turned granted him more power than he could have imagined. He had been built for speed and stealth, his thin body perfect for a thief’s life. It had been a life that he had mastered. It mattered not anymore, as his powers changed his abilities. His pale skin was the only obvious change to his appearance, at least, when he was hiding his true self. His jet black hair complimented his skin tone beautifully, and he wondered why it had stopped growing.
After a while, he accepted what he had become and resigned himself to fulfilling the role he had been fated with. He was Mestal’s chosen, and since proving his loyalty to Kassina, he was marked by Shindar himself. His grand plans of a life of kindness had been stolen from him. All he had left was to make the most of whatever existence he had, and that existence had its benefits.
What if there is no such thing as evil, only difference?
The abandoned house was littered with dusty furniture and wispy cobwebs. Beams of light shone through structural gaps. Tusdar paced beside their barred door. He listened intently to the hustle of Crondor’s people finishing their day. He rubbed his tired eyes and breathed deep before puffing out his frustration. Walking into a spider web, he grabbed the jet black arachnid and threw it to the ground, crushing it under his heel to a symphony of pops and crackles. The pleasure of taking life was something he had missed while on the run. As the spider’s insides trickled across the floorboards, he smirked and wondered when they would get their next feed.
Mestal’s voice snapped his mind back to his task. “Did you hear anything useful?”
Tusdar leaned against the wall, staring at his love, wondering when he would have the strength to tear her clothes from her and quench his hunger for her pleasures. He remembered when he first met her, and how her muscular body and strong features only barely hid her raw beauty and seductive nature. Her cherry lips and long black hair accompanied her bright, silver eyes.
There was a concern in those eyes like he had never seen before. He pursed his lips as he considered the best way to speak his mind. “I’ve heard a lot of useless talk in the last few days. As if I care about the stupid lives of these maggots. What worries me is the talk of a messenger dragon. They’ll send reinforcements. Towns are now under the crown’s protection. It won’t be safe for us tonight, and I fear that unless we leave here soon, we may not make it out.”
Mestal nodded and wiped a black tear from her eye, understanding that she needed to grieve. It pained him to see her upset, but since he murdered his best friend, sympathy was an alien emotion to him. He was glad that he could still love, even if nobody would understand why he loved her so much. Tusdar ducked under a dimming slither of sunlight, making his way to sit beside her on the rusty bed. It creaked under his weight.
Rubbing his shoulder, he marvelled at his newly-acquired powers of healing. Their escape from the battle of Greenhaven had resulted in a breakneck dive into the shallow Tr’Arch River. Only a vampire could survive such a fall. It was one of the defining moments that brought him joy for becoming a creature of the night. He brought his hand to his face and watched his fingers blur in and out of focus.
“We need to feed and have hardly rested in days. This stupid town. I’m sick of being here.
Nobody comes out after nightfall except the warriors. We wouldn’t be a match for them like this,” Mestal said, wiping her nose with the musty blanket.
Tusdar kissed her head and drew her to his chest. He may have lost sympathy, but not for her. She was the only one that mattered to him now, and he understood her pain. She did well to try to hide it, but he knew she grieved for her father. When he watched Vartan dispatch him, and Mestal’s attempt to engage him in battle, he only wanted to save her. He couldn’t lose anyone else, not again.
“I know what it’s like to lose your parents. Your whole world crashes down around you. You’ve got to fend for yourself. But you’re not alone and I’ll never let that happen to you, okay? You are mine, and I am yours.”
She dug her face into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. “I know and your words mean much to me, but I miss father. I know he was rough, but he loved me, even if he didn’t show it. That heartless coward took him from me. Why didn’t you let me fight him? I could’ve avenged my family.”
Tusdar breathed deep and combed his fingers through her hair. He watched as the slivers of light dimmed. Her words reminded him of watching his army burn from the inside, all at the hands of Vartan. Tusdar hoped he wouldn’t have to face Vartan again.
Tusdar’s voice deepened as he hid the anger within his words. “Don’t try that again. I can’t bear to lose you. You’ve no idea of what he’s capable. Did you see what he did to our people?”
“Our people?” she said, grinning. “So you’ve truly become one of us.”
Power returned to the rising Blood-Red Moon, and the beams of sunlight had transformed to burgundy moonlight, they received a message from Kassina. Her voice strained in their skulls.
How did this disaster happen? Marithia crawls in the afterglow of their victory. Be careful returning to our lands.
Tusdar tugged at his shirt and stared at the tattoo of an eye in the centre of a pentagram, on his chest. The etching was foreign, but it linked him to the rulers of the underworld. “I’ll get us home.”
Darkness gripped the lands. It was now or never. Tusdar grunted as he shifted the block of wood barring the door. Edging it open, they watched for signs of human or elven warriors hunting them. To his surprise, the town appeared calm. He heard the gentle crunches of footsteps and murmuring voices around Crondor.
Tusdar whispered, “I don’t think they know we’re here. We can make a break for it and head to the forest. It leads back to Tr’Arch River. We’ll make our way through the lowlands.” He took a moment to watch the red moonlight illuminate his lover’s face. The soft glow accentuated the feminine features on her otherwise powerful frame.
“That sounds like a good plan, but we haven’t fed; we are weak. Shall I take the lead?”
He brought her close and took her by the hand. She was shaking. Her mask of resilience failed to hide her crumbling physique. “No. Hold on to me and stay close, all right?”
He led her across the street’s shadows. Their blood granted them superior speed, even while weakened. They ran to lean against an ice cold wall, beside a crumbling graveyard. Spirits whispered their names from every corner. Tusdar brought a finger to his lips as he watched shadows move. Surveying their location, they were in between three houses and had no other way out.
“Damn it,” Tusdar said. He crouched down and clenched his jaw, readying himself for the inevitable as footsteps approached. His moment of weakness was overcome as he looked at Mestal again, steeling his strength.
Come on, you can do this. If you can steal from castles, you can get out of here.
Peering around the corner, he spied four elven warriors. Two of them wielded flamed torches, which shone against their armour as they patrolled Crondor’s streets. Their young voices echoed through the alleys. He narrowed his eyes as he focused on their position, making out their words.
“Hey Drubb, do you really think this place is haunted?” a warrior said, staring into the shadows.
The stockiest elf laughed, making hand puppet shadows of animals in front of his torch. “Boo! We’re out to get ya all!”
Elves, and not the brightest of them. We have a chance after all, Tusdar thought, managing a grin.
Furrowing his brow, a smaller warrior punched him in the shoulder. “Stop it! That ain’t funny! I’m seeing and hearing things all over this place. Don’t like this post at all. We were supposed to get reinforcements. Where are the lazy cretins? Probably too busy fucking lonely widows.”
Latching on to Mestal’s hand and resting the other on his sword’s hilt, Tusdar remained perfectly still as the warriors’ flames licked the air between them. The elves neared their position and halted in the centre of the path. Their elongated shadows danced over the graveyard.
Drubb shrugged. “Dunno, Marr. Maybe they’re busy helpin’ wit’ the rebuild? Or maybe they’re shackin’ up wit’ our women! Your wife must be gettin’ lonely there without you, aye?”
The taunted elf’s breath erupted in a cloud of fog as Marr shoved him. “You better watch your mouth!”
Good! Fight, you bastards, and let us slip out of here.
Drubb stumbled back from the blow, almost stepping on Tusdar’s hand before the vampire snatched it out of the way.
Marr growled and raised his clenched fist. “Blasted new recruits! You’ve no respect at all.”
Tusdar began to draw his blade, its surface about to reach the moonlight. He jumped at the sound of branches snapping, deep within the forest.
“Hey, do you hear that?” asked another one of the warriors. He stared into the forest surrounding them with squinted eyes.
Tusdar surveyed the scene, his eyes darting in all directions. He knew that a window of opportunity presented itself, and he readied for the right moment.
The elves drew their swords and approached the tree line, watching for signs of movement. The elf they called Marr spun his sword’s tip, taunting whatever was in the forest.
Kassina’s voice entered the vampires’ minds. That was too close! I can’t always get you out of a mess. Keep moving!
Tusdar rose to his feet, elated at the queen of the darkness lending a hand. He was growing to like her more with each passing day. He helped Mestal to her feet, and they snuck around the building, easing their feet on barren patches of dirt. Taking a few more steps, they entered an area lit by lanterns as another bunch of twigs snapped in the forest.
A warrior barked, “There! I knew I heard something!” He took the lead into the forest.
By the gods, I can’t thank you enough, Kassina, Tusdar thought.
The sound of a woman’s humming echoed all around them. Windows unanimously slammed shut throughout the town.
That wasn’t me, Kassina said, Get out of there. Now!
“What are you? Come out and fight, you coward!” Marr said, fogs of breath puffing from his mouth.
Tusdar didn’t want to stick around to find out what creature or demon was coming their way. Whatever it was, the elves should serve to slow it down. He quickened their pace and reached the town’s inn. A red, star-shaped crystal hung above its door, glowing and flashing furiously. Tusdar was distracted for a moment, staring at the strange artefact. He was unsure if it was detecting their presence, or the worse alternative, a demon’s.
If it stops demons and is this strong, then we are in serious trouble, he thought.
Mestal bumped into his side and let out an involuntary whimper. She quickly covered her mouth and stared, wide-eyed, far behind him. He turned to watch Drubb and Marr bear down on their position. His dead heart sank at the realisation that this wasn’t going to be the easy escape he had hoped for.
The elves had split into two groups. The other two headed into the forest.
“Halt!” Marr said. “Who goes there?”
Tusdar and Mestal shared a glance before turning toward Tr’Arch River. Mestal’s eyes glowed crimson as she hissed in the elves’ direction, baring her glistening fangs. They fled at an inhuman speed under t
he moon’s burgundy glow.
“Vampires!” Drubb said. “Kill ‘em both!”
Tusdar turned to see Drubb attempt to give chase, and Marr kneeling with a readied arrow, taking aim at their path. The gleam of the arrow’s head looked familiar and he clenched his teeth.
Silver! This could mean the end of us, he thought, swallowing hard.
A blood-curdling scream escaped the forest. Marr released his arrow, before turning back toward the dark woods. Mestal flicked her gaze to her left and grabbed Tusdar by his clothes. She jerked him back as the arrow split the air in front of his face, landing a nearby home’s bricks. They grimaced as they heard an approaching group of Marithian warriors marching from their right flank.
“It’s our reinforcements!” Drubb said, his voice ringing.
Tusdar seized Mestal’s hand and they ran together. They slowed as their energy was sapped away. He knew that they couldn’t sustain this, and for a moment, his mind clouded with doubt.
“It’s been too long since we’ve fed!” Mestal said.
“Vampires! Sound the alarm!” a voice said, in the direction of Greenhaven. The sound of a battle horn soon followed.
Tusdar’s face drained of blood as he heard the fire order. The likelihood of avoiding a barrage of silver arrows was incredibly unlikely. He knew he had to do something, and fast. His mind scrambled for options, and his breath quickened. They reached Tr’Arch’s flowing waters. He turned to Mestal and snapped, “Follow me and do exactly as I do.”
She nodded and he heard her struggling to keep pace as he leapt to the other side of the river. He ran a short distance on the opposite bank, and then leapt back to the other side. “Mestal, keep up or we’ll die out here!”
The whistling in the air was a short warning. Volleys of silver arrows rained down on their position, narrowly missing them. Some arrows slid through the water and embedded into the river. They caught their breaths and pressed on. Their blurred vision worsened as they struggled to retain their strength. Mestal continued for a few moments before falling hard to the rock bed. She stumbled forward before Tusdar caught her, her bodyweight dropping into his embrace. He fell to his knees. It was at that moment that he knew they couldn’t go on.
Legends of Marithia: Book 3 - Talonsphere Page 2