“Do not step out of line, Hamish. Maybe you should leave, while I discuss the rest of this with Aliana. You seem to be getting a little over-emotional.”
Hamish bows his head, “Yes, sire. Forgive me for stepping out of line.” He walks onwards, past Aliana and then outwards. No doubt to continue his worries in the war room.
"Now, as I was saying. I want the ritual to take place on the Harvest. It's time for completion, and when better, than when all the stars are in line? I remember, the witch’s rituals used to take place on a very similar time sheet, didn't they?” I know I have my facts in order. The witches are ours for the taking, and they always have been. Ever since the Council eradicated the remaining covens, they have been flailing to find the next group that would take them in. We were the ones to do so, and they owe us a lot for that.
“Yes, you're right,” she sighs, “It will be done. I just ask one thing. Consider what your actions truly mean, Daffyd. You're not only going to be killing a girl, you're going to be sentencing the Forsaken to their deaths. This spat may not affect us now, but you've got a long life ahead of you. Can you readily stand here and assume that this will be the end of your wars? This will be the last battle? In the short span, it took you to get the Forsaken against you, you've stepped on the toes of every single race out there. Are you sure these actions will not have consequences of their own? And what of the humans? We have been able to keep them in the dark about the existence of supernatural creatures for many years, but things are changing now. We are moving into an era where they are no longer mindless. They are evolving and creating. Something that other races haven't bothered with because we've kept them under our thumbs. What now, if they discover us? We will have no chance against them. You will have no chance against them.”
She said a lot now, a lot that I should probably take into consideration but won't.
“Never mind what I'm doing. Once the Forsaken are gone, we can face the next challenge. A few wolves and shifters think they have the ability to take on the Vampires? They will face the same fate. We will not back down, Aliana, nor will we stop our ways. We will win this war without a hitch,” Just then, the door behind Aliana swings open and through it steps the Ancient.
“Mason, just the man I wanted to see. Where have you been?” I ask.
“Never mind. What is it you wanted to see me for, Daffyd?” Mason steps up beside Aliana. His calm, slow steps the same ones that have always irritated me beyond comprehension. Who does he think he is? He is in the King’s territory. I wait for no man. Still, I hold my tongue.
“Well, the war is coming and we all know what that means. It's us or them, Mason–”
“Let me stop you right there,” Mason interrupts, “It's not us or them. It's you or them. I have no issue with the Forsaken, and I assume they have none with me. I am no an agent under Daffyd's banner. You are fighting a war that you're going to lose, and I will have no part of your sinking ship, and before you say that I am the life raft, this time you will not buy me. You are trying to kill a child, and I will have nothing of it. You will release her now or I will watch the Vampire Empire die, Daffyd, and I will watch you die, and I will enjoy every second of it. From your pitiful screams until your swine heart is ripped from your chest.”
I'm shocked. I have nothing to say. Mason turns to Aliana now, “And if you have anything to do with this just because your life is on the line, you will share the same fate as he. Do you understand me?” They have been mingling together a lot lately. So much so that it seems even she was not ready for this response or reaction. We're both silent, Aliana and I, looking at the Ancient, whose eyes move between us.
“Now is that all?” he asks. I nod my head. He turns around and begins walking off.
"Well, that was unexpected."
Aliana remains silent. I can see in her eye there is a hopeful glint that I won't continue now that Mason is against me. How wrong she is, “Everything continues as normal. The Harvest is where the Forsaken die.”
Chapter 41
Ankh.
I've never been one to join my kind’s frivolous causes. I've never seen myself as a part of them. Not that they're all that bad, the Forsaken. I've been blessed with a great deal through them. They know this. That I am an outsider among my people. It's for this reason that I found it peculiar that my father came to me. That he, the mighty Anubis, God of the Sun appeared on my doorstep, hat in hand.
“My sun,” He starts, in his usual fashion, “The light shines bright, setting the darkness astray, holding hope in hand,” I roll my eyes. He ignores it, “My son.”
“Father,” I reply.
“You know why I have come, my son?” I nod my head.
“Yes, you want me to come and join some cause, I don't really care about.” He stands at my door. His wide frame, one that most would be envious of, turning from a humble stance to his battle-ready self.
“Why do you reject us? Your role is far greater than that of a mere mortal. You are the guardian of light, my son. A future guardian to the darkness. You cannot reject your heritage.”
His words don't bother me. I've never cared for them. Nor what they stood for. The darkness, a tomb created by the Forsaken to hold those who came before, conquered and turned sour. I have never cared for these trivial matters nor will I.
"Father, you forget, you sired me, but you were never there for me. You were not there to raise me nor were you there to guide me in my youth. My mother was the only one who gave me the love and support that I needed to grow," I spit. I can see that this doesn't sit well with him, "I am not a Forsaken. I am a Demi-God. Your woes and those of the Forsaken, they are not my own. You understand this, why do you still come beg?" I spit.
“Beg?” He laughs. A hearty laugh. A click of his fingers and around him the clothes from his back fall away, the suit that he donned, which I believe he could only have worn to blend in, now in rags as his own clothing takes form. Ancient Egyptian armor forming around his body, a ring on left-hand turns into a scepter, the ring on the right, this time unchanging, the source of my creation. A symbol of the ankh, all that's left of the once great weapon. The beautiful face he chose to walk on the mortal plane replaced by the head of a falcon and his cobra crown upon his brow, "There is no begging, boy. This will not end well for you, nor us, if the vampires complete their ritual. Do you not understand this? You hold the bloodline of the Forsaken. You are a deity. Do you see the connection between deity and deicine? Or are you so thick that you will not stand alongside your kind and fight for the rights of your people?” he counters, and I bow my head. The Forsaken have always had mixed judgments on their force. Some believe that power is their strongest blessing, whereas others believe it is their biggest curse. My father seldom throws his power around. In this situation, it is not intended to strike fear into me, instead, it is meant for me to bow my head and show respect to he who gave life.
In the modern world, it's a peculiar thing, bowing down to he who gave life when we all know the truth. They are all imaginary friends that came to life. Pitiful, really.
Still, I keep my eyes averted, head bowed and hands clasped together.
“I understand, father,” He pushes past me and into the house. I follow him, and, instantly, I notice a shift in his state.
"You've been dabbling in dark magic," he whispers. It's not a written law, nor is it, in fact, a law at all, that the dark magic should never be toyed with lest they break free.
"Aye, father. Mason has gifted me a lot of instruments over his time working for Daffyd," I raise my hand, and from the workshop, the spear glides through the air, narrowly missing Father's head and finally to my hand, where it ends in the form of a scepter, "This is my creation. I have woven it together from materials both holy and not. Both ours and theirs. Its power is remarkable.”
He raises a hand to silence me. "I can tell. I just worry, what if they return? What if the darkness is released? You will be the target of one of the most powerful enemies of our kind
that we have faced. Do you believe you have the ability to fight against them? Weapon and all? They are not dead. Their power circulates through this weapon now. They will come, and they will claim the power you have created," I know that he's just trying to look out for me. I thought he would be proud.
"I understand," I slam the scepter into the ground, and like my father’s scepter, it turns into a ring. I gesture that he go deeper into my home, find a seat and relax. I go to the kitchen and get to work on a few drinks before returning to my father who sits, one leg over the other, staff in one hand, the other lazily half-clasped as if the ankh still weighs it down.
The pose he took on his throne.
“I'm not asking you to make the decision now, Ankh, I ask you to consider what I have asked. Stand beside us. We need you,” I take a moment to think. I hand him his drink. A glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. He sips it.
“I will fight alongside you, father. You have my support and, perhaps, the ancient one too. Is this enough for you?” He knows that this is the ultimate defeat. Needing to tuck my tail between my legs and give into him.
“I am proud of you, son.”
Chapter 42
Romulus.
I'm standing in front of my people. On their faces, the look of scorn. They don't understand what I have done for them. What I have done for my daughter. They are my priority, but they are not my top. My family. They are who I must look after first. Is that not the place of a man?
They say nothing. They know that I am still their alpha, and they will not step out of line. Not today. Not when we are reeling from a loss. A loss of note. My actions have consequences, of this, there is no doubt.
Someday they will understand.
I wait a moment longer before I speak. It's at this moment that I have to choose my words carefully. As carefully as I can place them. I understand this so do they. There are many in our pack that will come for the position. Many that will still fail. They may believe me weak, but my weakness is calculated. A weakness that few will understand. I look to the heavens. Into the eyes of whatever almighty is smiling down on me, in its cruel judgment.
Then I speak:
“I hear there is a lot to say going around the pack over my actions in the battle against the vampires out in the Civil Hills,” I start, “My actions were not to benefit me, you must understand, but they outnumbered us. They were tactical. They were slaughtering us...,” I pause to give this emphasis.
“We only lost three, with another two injured-” I get cut off. “We had the power to slaughter them and you know it.”
“That was not the battle for us to fight and die, lose the troops that can be better spent on the front lines of the Veil,” I reply. My father is in the crowd. A wise man. Wiser than I could ever be. He looks at me. Looks down on me. How does one face the scorn of his own father?
“Your decision was unnecessary and uncalled for. We have spoken about this before. You show weakness, and they will gut you,” he speaks out in front of the people. Conversations he would have never shared with the crowd, and now? It seems he believes they should be welcome to whatever prior discussions we may have shared.
“I am standing here to appeal to my people. Not to answer a tired fight, father,” I retaliate. If he wants to get in the way of the plans I have been brought into, he will be treated as any of the others.
For now.
”Our main fight is not with the smaller clans. You have to understand. The Forsaken lost their battle, now we have too. I have recently broken bread with them, and we have discussed the plans for the future. The Ancient One is not for Daffyd's cause.”
“The Ancient One? You mean Mason?” my father asks, his brow cocking.
"Yes. From my understanding, he will stand alongside us–"
"And so will we–," I get interrupted again, as the Shifter that I met at Zeus' table comes into the conversation.
"Your pack has the full force of the bravest shifters that were willing to join. We're not puppets and playthings for the vampires. Neither are you. We are not going sit idly by, while they kick us to pieces. Those days are gone."
My people look at him as if he's crazy.
Suddenly, a warm summer breeze blows in from behind and gasps explode from my people.
“You, too, have the force of the Forsaken at your side,” The familiar voice of Zeus himself comes in from behind, “We both faced losses, however small, from the vampires, and we will not allow it to happen again. Neither of us can afford it, nor will we allow it,” His words are calm. Calmer than my own. They have planned this meeting among themselves, no doubt after I left the table.
“Your troops were not weak, they were merely outnumbered. You could have won, sure, but what then? You would have just been left wounded and weak for the next fight. The big one we've all been waiting for,” Drakka speaks again, a smirk on his face.
“The Veil will be ours. We take them on their turf. We strike at dawn, when they are at their weakest, on the morning of the Blood Harvest by the time their feast begins, we will have massacred them,” Zeus chimes in, proud of his words.
My father looks up to me now, I see the soft smile on his face hidden behind the look he's trying to keep for the people around to see. He knows. Our loss was not for nothing. It was to bring these nations together so that we may fight side by side to bring the vampires to their knees, and, so it must be. They have chosen their fate, and we are just here to deliver it.
"The people are quiet. Thus far, the only ones that have spoken have been the outsiders. They have given a great plan. They have said all that I would have, in my own way, and, now, they are waiting for me to give the final say. Some eager, some are wary, and some seem to be against it. Still, I stand before my people, raise a fist high in the air, and call out to them in a roar, "We stand with our new allies and take the Veil!" Those eager to fight, to claim back what we have lost or will lose, cheer alongside me. Those against, quietly come in before they too begin thunderously applauding. The Shifters and then even from the portal behind Zeus, the cries of victory and glory all echo out over the Sentinel packs lands.
Victory will be ours in the defeat of the dead.
Chapter 43
Zeus.
The front lines of battle have always been the greatest threat to me and my kind. With my brothers and sisters at my side. The true connection of power that is felt, on the battlefield is tenfold that, which we feel on any normal given time. Our power is intertwined. The Forsaken Realm is home to us, but it is more. It drives us. When we are unified we experience a greater sensation, when we are divided, the dip in power is also felt. A uniquely beautiful balance between give and take. We stand here, there, and everywhere. A strike has been led on three different vampire owned factions. One led by Odin. Another by his son, Thor. One by Mars. A distraction to the battle that will now commence on the Veil. Are they expecting it? Perhaps. They know that we know this is their weakest day. The day that they most need their feeding. Once they've fed, of course, they will greatly overpower many of our weaker demi-gods. Ra stands beside me. His son at his right. Hercules at mine.
I stand in the foreground. The sun has not yet peeked over the mountains. As soon as its bright rays strike the earth, we will strike the vampires. It's now, that I see a figure dashing from the Veil toward us. I sense his power from the moment it comes towards us, and it only grows as he nears. A flash of no more than a second, and he is in front of me. A smug grin on his face. I know precisely who he is. He knows me.
“Mason, I presume.”
“Correct,” he replies, “So you're the Forsaken, then?” he asks.
"Yes. Are you here as friend or foe?" I need to be safe at such a delicate time.
"Friend. You will have no resistance from me," He knows that his time is limited. From my understanding, ancient vampires have the ability to remain in the sun only a few moments before they get drained. Drained of their power until such a point that they need to either find darkness
or face a permanent insanity. They can't die by these simple methods, but it's unbearable to live with the conditions they give off. That is why I find it odd that he's come to me. It's not something one would expect.
“I would just like to discuss the girl. My plan has come through perfectly. You, the wolves, and the shifters. A collaboration. It's nice, is it not?” he smiles.
“So, it was you, then? Why am I not surprised?”
“Of course. Do you think that the foolhardy wolves would pull out of a battle they had a good chance of winning? The alpha's collapse was vital. It will only make him stronger in the eyes of his people,” I nod.
“You mentioned the girl, Mason?”
“Yes. I want you to be assured that no harm will come to her. The fact that she is a Deicine is peculiar. The best kind of peculiar, of course.”
Ra turns to Mason now, “What do you mean?”
“A bloodline we have all forgotten has resurfaced. Doesn't this please you? Not even in the slightest?” The cheeky smile that grew a moment ago, growing ever wider.
“Not quite,” Ra returns, and I am inclined to agree.
“Well, you have no sense of adventure,” the ancient one replies, “I will make certain that she is taken from the fray and Daffyd's ties to the girl are severed until well after the war has been ended.”
He turns away and steps to Ankh beside Ra, taking the young demi-god's hand, “You be careful now. I'd prefer you get through this without a scratch, yes?” He squeezes. A truly, caring grasp. It warms my heart.
“Of course,” Ankh brings his second hand around and slaps it against Mason's, cupping it together before they go into an embrace in the form of a half hug, while still holding one hand from each other, “Be careful, Mason. Daffyd may not have your strength, but he has his other methods.”
The Vampire Touch 1: The Forsaken Page 11