The furious, young man just shook off his hands. Standing proudly and supporting his fists on his hips, he demanded, "What's wrong, Rouven? Afraid I will beat you this time?"
Rouven rolled his eyes. "You are beginning to get on my nerves, guy! It was a fair contest. I won, you were beaten! Get over it and leave!"
Anatol just stared at him, challenging.
Suddenly, Rouven had an idea. "You are very stubborn, I have to give you that. Alright, you shall have your second chance," he said, his voice calm and bland.
The young man was about to retake his seat at the table for another round of arm-wrestling.
Rouven held up a hand to prevent him. "No, not that. I embarrassed you enough with that. I suggest the following." A sly gleam appeared in his eyes. "You know about the abandoned camp, up in the woods. The camp of the wolf hunters, you remember?"
Some men of their audience grew pale, others crossed themselves in a haste.
Anatol nodded.
Pacing up and down, Rouven stroked his beard. "You will go there."
The gathered crowd protested, whispering and murmuring in shock. "You cannot do that, Rouven! The place is cursed! The poor boy could die out there!"
"Quiet!" he shouted and everybody fell silent immediately. "Like I already said, Anatol. You will go to said camp and spend a whole night there." He looked at him, assessing, and added after a pause, "All alone."
Anatol's heart skipped a beat, but he didn't want to betray his fear. There was no way, he would allow to be once again humiliated. "And that's all?" he asked with more courage in his voice than he actually felt.
Rouven smirked. "So? It isn't enough for you to spend a night in a cursed place? Well, to prove that you've been really there, you have to bring something from the abandoned huts. What do you say? Are you a man or are you scared shitless?"
"Fine. It's a deal. Just one more thing."
"Yes?"
"What do I get when I succeed?" Anatol wanted to know.
Rouven turned to his second in command, Sergej, who stood grinning smugly beside him. They whispered for a moment, before he turned back to Anatol. "If you truly make it, you will become one of us."
The young man thought about it for a while. He had barely survived the recent massacre, which still caused him nightmares. Rouven knew that all too well. Anatol would not chicken out. He didn't want to give Rouven that kind of satisfaction. Bravely, he extended his right hand to Rouven. "I want your word on it. Here, among all these witnesses, so you can't change your mind later."
"Alright," Rouven answered, shaking his hand.
"Good. When does it begin?"
Rouven glanced out the window. Dusk had fallen. "Right now. Pack something to eat, some warm clothes and blankets. Since I'm not a monster, I don't want you to be frozen stiff before you reach your destination." He laughed
Mumbling curses, Anatol left the tavern.
"I hope those were nice words!" Rouven called out after him. He went to Sergej, slapping him on the shoulder. "This whole thing is going to be very interesting."
"Yes, I think so, too. But above all, it will be very amusing," Sergej replied smirking, rubbing his hands gleefully.
"Take Dimitri along. You two will lead the idiot to the edge of the woods. From there on, he will be on his own. You will make camp there and wait, until he is back at dawn."
Sergej nodded, "Understood. Come on, Dimitri. Let's go."
Thinking about it, the tall blonde man didn't feel well. "I don't think this will have a good ending."
Sergej looked at him and snorted contemptuously. "Awww, is the son of smith Mikahel scared? You are spending far too much time with the old Ana. You are just as superstitious as she is."
"Caution and level-headedness has nothing to do with superstition!"
"Argh, just shut your trap, Dimitri," Sergej demanded as they left the tavern. "Get your things together. We will meet shortly at the exit of the village. I bet Anatol is burning to show everyone what he is capable of."
*****
Sadden pressed her thighs against her stallion's sweat-covered flanks. The vampire pulled at the reins of her beloved horse and Stardancer slowed his gait. Finally, she brought him to a full stop, sliding gracefully from his broad back. The cold night wind played gently with her long dark hair. She leaned her forehead against Stardancer's neck and closed her eyes for a moment. "Oh, Stardancer, my dear one. What am I to do? I am trying so hard, but I cannot think about anything else than that dream. Not even a ride enables me to free my mind."
The white stallion snorted, one mighty hoof impatiently pawing the forest ground.
Soothing, Sadden stroked his velvety fur. "I cannot forget them... these eyes. The color of them... they were shining with endless love... just like Lisander's emeralds always did..." Doubts rose inside her while she looked into the dark orbs of her trusted friend. "Perhaps... perhaps it is only another punishment for my sins... showing me lost love that I will never have again... until the longing for it devours me completely, driving me slowly insane."
The stallion pushed his head against her chest.
She hugged it to her, gently rubbing her cool cheek against his forehead. "I do not know how much longer I can bear this miserable existence without losing my mind," she whispered. "But I have to. The dream was a light... a tiny, bright spark of hope in this dark hell of loneliness... If only I could have that beautiful dream again. Until now though, that wish has been denied."
Stardancer whinnied softly.
Sadden released his head to climb into the saddle. Holding the reins tightly in her slender hands, she turned him around. "Let us ride home, Stardancer."
The stallion reared up once, then raced back to the castle at a full gallop.
*****
Dimitri and Sergej made their camp at the edge of the forest. To banish the cold of the night, a bright fire was burning, where they could warm their hands.
Sergej sat on a fallen tree, smoking a pipe. Small, blue clouds drifted from his mouth as he blew out the smoke. "And you truly think that he can do it? I'd say, it's a pretty hard task for such a slip of a boy, don't you think?" he asked his friend, who was busy with a knife, carving a small figure from a piece of wood, which he held in his hands.
Dimitri shrugged his shoulders. "Why shouldn't he make it? Anatol knows the woods like no other and is very stubborn. Too stubborn to die. He was the only one to come back alive then, even though he never said a word about what had happened at the wolf hunter's camp. If he has made up his mind once, he is going to see it through to the bitter end."
Sergej scratched his red chin beard. "Yes, he opened his big mouth and now he has to prove his words. I'm sure the wolves will leave him alone. He is only skin and bones after all." He slapped his thigh, laughing loudly about his own stupid joke, but fell silent when Dimitri didn't join in.
"What are you carving there anyway?" Sergej asked. "A talisman to protect us from evil ghosts and demons, of whom the old women in the village are so afraid of?"
Dimitri wasn't able to give the fitting reply that lay on his tongue, because a horrible scream rang through the silence of the night, curdling the blood of everyone who heard it.
Sergej dropped his pipe as he leapt up, gazing searchingly around. "Great God in the heavens! What was that?"
More screams, followed by cracking sounds of splintering twigs came from the woods. Both men reached for their weapons. "There is something coming out of the forest! Directly at us!" Dimitri and Sergej grabbed their shotguns firmly with both hands, aiming at the darkness in front of them. Barely breathing, they awaited their fate.
A figure staggered from between the trees, the clothes torn and smudged with dirt from its neck-breaking flight through the forest.
Sergej nearly pulled the trigger, but Dimitri's shout stopped him. "Don't shoot! It's Anatol!"
Anatol stumbled towards them, digging his shaking hands deeply in Dimitri's coat. His eyes darted around wildly. His face was as pale a
s a sheet, his breathing harsh and irregular. Now and again, he whimpered and mumbled something.
Dimitri took his cold face in both hands, trying to make eye contact with the badly frightened, young man. "Anatol! Anatol! Look at me!"
"I saw her again... I saw her again... I saw her again..." he repeated over and over.
"What? Who did you see?" Dimitri questioned.
"She touched me... I saw her... she spoke to me... I saw her..."
"Who? Damn it, who, Anatol?"
"I saw her... I saw her... she touched me... I saw her..."
Sergej lost his patience, grabbed the young man and pulled Anatol roughly towards him. He shook him hard and screamed, "Just spit it out! Who did you see and who touched you?!"
"A demon! A demon straight from hell!" Anatol whimpered hysterically, clinging tightly to Sergej's arms.
The man snorted in disgust. "Have you been drinking? Let me smell your breath!"
"Hidden in shadows! The eyes glowing red, burning like the fires of hell! Pointy fangs, gleaming in the moonlight! She touched me... this time... on my cheek... I ran again!" Anatol howled. Suddenly, he shoved Sergej, who staggered back and fell to the ground. He also evaded Dimitri, who tried to grab him. "It is true! A curse! This place is cursed!" Anatol panted, before he ran in direction of the village, as if chased by the devil himself. His arms waving wildly, he screeched in panic and hysteria, "We all are damned! Everyone of us is doomed! There is no escape! The demons! They will come and destroy us all!"
Shocked, Dimitri's gaze followed Anatol, whom he didn't recognize anymore. 'What could have possibly happened in the abandoned camp of the wolf hunters?' He bent down to help Sergej up. "So? Do you still think that it's only superstitions of old women from the village?" Dimtri asked, quietly.
"Of course!" Sergej strongly retorted. "Do you honestly believe his absurd story about demons from hell?"
"Well, demons or not, you saw how scared Anatol was. He wouldn't act like that because of nothing, would he?"
Sergej started to pack their things together. He lit two torches for their way home, before extinguishing the campfire's flames with some soil. "I'll tell you what I'm thinking, Dimitri."
The tall blonde crossed his arms, curiously waiting for the man's answer.
"Our good Anatol probably fell asleep and dreamed some weird stuff. His nightmare mixed with memories. Then he woke up and an owl or some other creepy night thing scared him. He just snapped. It's as easy as that!"
"But..."
Sergej cut him off with a harsh hand motion, interrupting him annoyed, "One lunatic per night is enough for me, thank you very much!" He gave Dimitri a torch. "Wait until Rouven hears about this. He will laugh his head off," he chuckled, stepping onto the path that led to Ardeal. "Ah, he probably already knows. I'm sure that Anatol, the idiot, woke the whole village with his screeching."
Before Dimitri followed him, he glanced back to the forest, frowning. "There is something out there..."
*****
"A delicious game, my young boy. I have chosen you. You only belong to me." Lilith's bright voice echoed through the castle's empty corridors. "You will be ripe soon." The vampire was in a happy mood as she suddenly felt something familiar. Straining all her senses, she hurriedly followed the perception that led her to the door of Andrej's chambers.
The vampire was surprised and about to turn back, as she heard a hoarse croak from inside. Without warning, Lilith burst into the room.
Andrej jumped, equally surprised. "For heaven's sake, what..."
"What are you doing?" Lilith demanded, running to the table where Andrej stood. A large, beautiful raven sat on top of it. "Hraban, what has he done to you?"
"I took care of the raven. With its last strength, it landed in the courtyard, closer to death than life," he responded, miffed.
Lilith caressed the soft feathers, examining the bird closely. "Did she carry a message?"
"No. Nothing."
The vampire sighed. If only you could speak, to tell me about my parents."
Andrej blinked astonished. "The bird came to us from the island?"
"Now, we both are far away from home," Lilith said, stroking Hraban's head.
The tall man stepped between the two, interrupting the reunion to carry on with his work. "Her beak is covered with salt crystals, "Andrej said, dipping a piece of cloth into lukewarm water and began to free the bird of it. "She flew quite a distance, no wonder she is so exhausted." His voice carried a slightly accusing tone.
Lilith didn't care about it and answered defiantly, "Hraban is stronger than she looks!"
The vampire watched as the young man took a willow basket and placed a soft blanket inside. "Here she can rest, get warm and regain her strength. To fly such a distance and find the way... truly remarkable," he praised.
"Have you ever seen the northern sea?" Lilith asked suddenly.
Andrej followed her gaze to a small picture leaning against a wall. Sailboats had been painted on it. He shook his head. "Tell me about the sea."
"What for? You are a poor fool, who does not know what he is missing in this seclusion," the young vampire retorted.
"Polite like always," Andrej remarked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well, why don't you amaze me with your unlimited wisdom? Perhaps you will manage to teach something to this poor fool, who is standing in front of you?"
Lilith was angered by his mocking words. "Close your eyes," she demanded of Andrej, who obeyed only reluctantly. "Imagine this... With your bare feet you are standing in cold, wet sand... It is cold. The howling storm is spraying you with salty water... it is horribly raving and beautiful at the same time. In some nights, the sea is calm, black and unpredictable. Lurking and peaceful. And always mysteriously beautiful. Then again free and independent, always moving. Can you see the white foam crowns dancing on top of the waves?"
Andrej nodded.
"Dark and deep is the water in front of you, giving you a strong feeling of wildness, untamed. Can you smell the salt in the air, which cleans your lungs and body at the same time?"
Unconsciously, Andrej inhaled deeply.
"Giving life and bringing death. This force of nature will never be controlled by humans. That is the sea!"
Andrej opened his eyes, still lost in the powerful picture she had painted in his mind. Lilith had disappeared. Shaking his head, he turned to the weakened raven. Gently stroking Hraban's black, gleaming feathers, he mumbled, "From one moment to the next, she is a completely different person."
*****
Sometime later, Lilith roamed through the castle, lost in her own world, thinking about Hraban. "Your strong wings carried you across the land to me. You did not bring a note, but to me that is message enough. Something is going on and I am not to know anything about."
Suddenly, the vampire looked up and stopped, irritated. She had gotten lost. Lilith didn't know why she was following this certain corridor, but she had been walking it for quite some time. She took the last steps in an uncomfortable, bent position, because the ceiling was so low.
At the end, she reached a cold, stale-smelling room. It was a low vault cellar with torches as the only source of light. The walls were wet and roughly rock-hewn. Lilith touched the stone that was very smooth due to the constantly running water. "It looks like I have reached the height of the lake. How much deeper will it go?"
The curious vampire scanned her surroundings, but there seemed to be no trapdoor. Only moist, disgusting smelling straw covered the floor, and she could see no other path or corridor. "Strange. Why all those corridors and stairs only to end in an impasse?"
Her question was answered as her vampire senses kicked in. Straining, she listened into the empty room. "There is something down here. I can practically smell it and it stinks of... decay."
Alarmed, Lilith crossed the room and stopped before the wall. Just as the vampire was about to search for something like a switch, she heard shuffling steps from the other side. She hurrie
dly retreated from the wall. The rotten stench grew stronger, disturbing her fine nose. A mechanism was triggered on the other side and the wall slid open. Something hunchbacked, and holding a small lantern in its hand, stepped from the darkness of the corridor behind it. It was just as surprised as the vampire was. The crooked creature limped towards her, stopped right in front of her and pulled off its threadbare hood.
Lilith couldn't believe her eyes. The simple cloth, hanging tattered from its body, was made of layers of rags. It was stained with dirt and excrements. The vampire couldn't tell what exactly it was that stood in front of her. She was also unable to take her eyes off it.
The hair hung to the shoulders in greasy, matted strands. That, what seemed to be the face, was covered with deep wrinkles. The big nose looked more like an old, rotten turnip. Its lips were nearly invisible beneath all the dirt and the scarred chaps that probably had been caused by rat bites. The staring, murky eyes were swollen and lifeless.
Despite that, Lilith thought there was something dangerous lurking in their depths. She could recognize the evil, spoiled soul in this body and retreated further.
The wretched creature lifted its dirty, scarred hands to touch Lilith's pure, white skin. "Want touch something sooooo beautiful," came the scratchy, approximate deep voice of a man, even though Lilith would refrain from connecting the word man with this creature. He sniffled soundly, drawing up his nose. Saliva collected in his palate and ran in slimy threads from the corners of his mouth.
Lilith was disgusted. Instantly she backed off a few steps. "What are you?" she asked in shock. As long as she had been walking the earth, she had never ever seen such a repulsive creature.
"Veljanov. My name, Veljanov," her opposite said in a hoarse voice, pulling back his bony hand with the claw-like fingers.
"What are you?" Lilith repeated unmoved, but more determined.
Chronicles of Darkness: Shadows and Dust Page 22