A Shade of Vampire 80: A Veil of Dark

by Forrest, Bella

  Was I even ready for such a retirement? Perhaps not, but I still would’ve liked a place like this to call home and to come back to every now and then. I loved The Shade and the redwood treehouses, but I felt I’d be happier somewhere else, away from everyone. I put that thought aside, focusing on the anthropological aspects of this village.

  “Yes, this is Tromb,” Kalon said, carefully looking around.

  As soon as they saw us, the Rimian men—of whom I counted a dozen—dropped their sacks and rushed toward us, clearly alarmed. The women called out to their children and told them to run into the woods, while they sought refuge inside. All of a sudden, the peaceful Tromb was overcome with fear and desperation, and I was at a loss for words.

  We stopped the Visions in the middle of the road, watching as the children scrambled and hid beyond the thick trees. The Rimian women shut the doors and blinds, and I heard keys being twisted and locks being set. The men were defensive, bringing their bows up and pointing their arrows at us.

  “What do you want?!” one of them asked. “You’re not welcome here! Go away!”

  This was certainly one step farther from previous receptions that Kalon and I had gotten along this particular road. To say that I was intrigued would have been an understatement.

  “What’s going on here?” I asked.

  Kalon slowly raised his hands in a defensive manner. “I don’t know, but they’re terrified of us. Of Aeternae.”

  “That must be it.” I scoffed, then raised my voice. “We mean no harm to anyone! We’re just passing through!”

  The Rimians didn’t look like they were anywhere near ready to put their weapons down. They’d been able to kill deer with those arrows. I had a feeling they could poke a hole or two in me before I disarmed them. Peaceful discourse seemed like a more rational approach at this point. These were all good and simple people, only wanting to defend their way of life and their families.

  “Who are you?” another Rimian asked. I caught the glimmer of a blade hanging from his leather belt.

  “I’m Lord Kalon Visentis, and this is my friend and partner, Esme Vaughn. Please lower your bows.” His tone made it clear—he would not ask them again.

  The first Rimian exhaled sharply. “Lord Visentis. What brings you all the way here?”

  “Lower your bows, and I will gladly answer that question.”

  I had to appreciate his stern reply. Kalon commanded respect and attention, while offering the same in return. He just drew a line when weapons were pointed at him.

  “My apologies,” the first Rimian said and put his bow away. He motioned for the others to do the same. Soon, I was able to let a sigh roll out, the atmosphere slightly more relaxed. The Rimians approached us with their weapons safely stored on their backs. “We’re wary of strangers.”

  “We’re Aeternae. You shouldn’t be scared by us. Well, I’m Aeternae. Esme’s a vampire, but the difference is of no interest to you. What is your name?” Kalon replied.

  “Jayan, milord,” the first Rimian said.

  “You’re the leader, aren’t you?” I asked. “They all look to you for guidance.”

  Jayan nodded. “Yes, milady.”

  “So, what is it that’s got you so scared?” Kalon inquired.

  The Rimian women came out, some going into the woods to fetch the children. It was an obviously practiced protocol. They had done this before, and my heart ached to think that they lived in such crippling fear.

  “Raids, milord,” Jayan said. “They come at night. They kill those who try to fight them.”

  “They take our young ones, and we never see them again,” one of the Rimian women added, joining the men on the edge of the road.

  “Who?” I asked, my blood running cold. Somehow, I was already guessing the answer, based on the previous villages and their people’s reactions to mere inquiries from Kalon.

  “Darklings, milady,” Jayan replied.

  The blood drained from Kalon’s face. “You know about Darklings?”

  “Know about them? We’ve been dealing with them for as long as this village has been around. How are you not aware of this issue?” Jayan asked, frowning and crossing his arms in what looked like sheer disbelief. I was inclined to agree with him.

  “If this has been going on for so long, surely the palace would’ve heard about it,” I suggested, waiting for Kalon’s reaction.

  “We all wrote to the chief councilor, Zoltan Shatal,” Jayan replied. “Repeatedly. He assured us he would resolve the issue, but the raids intensified. Now it’s once a month, close to the full moon. Masked riders storm through the village, break down our doors, and take our young daughters and sons.”

  “What for?” I mumbled, unable to imagine living with such a horror.

  “Blood slaves, milady,” the Rimian woman said.

  “Oh dear,” I breathed.

  I’d heard this term before. Blood slaves. Rimians and Naloreans bought as slaves from Darkling traffickers. It was their main way of funding their operations. Rich Aeternae paid a lot of gold to have a source of fresh blood in their own homes, from whom they could drink whenever they wanted.

  Kalon and I had finally come upon one of the sources. A small village named Tromb, where the Rimians tried to live in peace, only to have their homes raided and their adolescent children taken away from them.

  Only a few hours out of bed, and I was already getting one hell of an intel payout.

  Esme

  “How did Rimians come to live in these parts, away from the Aeternae?” I asked Kalon. The villagers accompanied us into the square, which boasted a simple but elegant fountain made of black marble. Spring water gushed from its center, and I could see dark mineral sediment forming on the bottom. “I thought you conquered them.”

  “We did conquer them,” Kalon replied. “We also allowed them to settle on Visio, should they desire to do so.”

  “Truth be told, our ancestors were brought here shortly after the Rimian conquest,” Jayan said, settling on the edge of the fountain. “Of course, we give blood once a month in Pygmal, as is our duty. We pay taxes on our lands, like everyone else. We’re free to live on Visio, provided we do our part as subjects of the Aeternae empire.”

  “Which is why we deserve better than to have our homes raided by the Darklings and our families shattered,” a Rimian woman muttered, joining the conversation. The other men scattered around the village, going about their chores as usual—now relaxed and no longer fearful of our presence.

  Children watched us with big, curious eyes from the windows of their homes. I couldn’t help but throw them the occasional smile, just to reassure them that we had no intention of harming anyone. I could only imagine what it must’ve been like for them, living in such fear of the Darklings.

  “Jacinda, maybe Lord Visentis here can make a case for us before the chief councilor,” Jayan said as he gave Kalon a hopeful smile. The years had been kind to this Rimian. His hair was almost white, but there were only a handful of fine lines around his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. He had to be in his mid-fifties, at least, judging by his stature and mobility.

  Kalon sighed, slowly shaking his head. “I’m afraid Zoltan Shatal was recently unmasked as a Darkling Scholar. I doubt he would be of any help regarding this issue. I will, however, bring it up with the Lord and Lady Supreme as soon as we get the chance. That, I can promise.”

  Both Jayan and Jacinda—who were obviously related, given their many similar features—gasped in shock as soon as they heard about Zoltan. “That corrupt bastard,” Jacinda murmured.

  “I feel you, girl,” I replied.

  “Is he in prison? Will he be executed?” Jayan asked.

  “We’re looking for him,” I said. “Unfortunately, he escaped a couple of nights ago. But the master commander is mounting a massive search operation as we speak. I’m certain Zoltan will be captured soon.”

  “What brings you to Tromb, Lord Visentis?” Jacinda wondered aloud.

  “
We’re looking for someone. A friend of ours. A former Rimian turned Aeternae,” Kalon said. The mere concept seemed to disgust the Rimians. Neither Jacinda nor Jayan were pleased to hear about one of their own turning into one of Kalon’s.

  “Who is it? Who would abandon his heritage for the deluded promise of eternal life?” Jayan muttered, crossing his arms.

  “Trev Blayne,” I said. “He’s a good man. Honorable. The Darklings are likely looking for him. He’s part of the reason Zoltan was outed.”

  Jayan and Jacinda exchanged glances, then shook their heads at us. “I’ve never heard of Trev Blayne,” the elder man said.

  “Neither have I,” Jacinda added.

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why do you find the concept of a Rimian turning into an Aeternae so unappealing?” I replied. This was a discussion I’d had before with other former Rimians back at the palace, but I wanted to hear the opinion of Rimians who lived beyond the city walls. Their ethos felt more… pure.

  “Because there is no such thing as eternal life for the living,” Jayan said. “Aeternae can still be killed. Some choose to die in the Blood Arena. Others end their own existence, too. Eternity is an illusion for all of us who breathe.”

  “Every single soul will get tired eventually. We’re not designed by nature to live forever,” Jacinda added. “Why do you think they keep the Aeternae elders away from the rest of the empire?”

  Jayan shushed her, and Kalon scoffed, gazing somewhere to his right. Indeed, I remembered that the first- and second-generation Aeternae, the eldest of this empire, lived in retirement communities away from civilization. It had been my understanding that it was an arrangement that worked in their favor, since they were incredibly valuable to the Aeternae culture, but the way Jacinda put it made me wonder whether that was all there was to it.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, and Jayan squeezed Jacinda’s wrist in a bid to silence her.

  Kalon chuckled. “It’s fine, Jayan. Let her speak. Esme was bound to find out, eventually.”

  “Okay, now I am definitely convinced there’s something hinky going on with you people,” I grumbled, scowling at Kalon.

  “Milady, the eldest of the Aeternae aren’t just… really old and precious,” Jacinda said. “Rumor has it, and perhaps Lord Visentis here can confirm or deny, that the eldest are kept separately because many of them have lost their minds. Too much time being alive, I’m told. They’ve witnessed too many Black Fevers. Too many years… it’s bound to loosen some screws up here.” She pointed a finger at her temple.

  I looked at Kalon again, waiting for a reaction. His expression was firm but clear. He knew. He knew and was definitely able to confirm what Jacinda had just told me.

  “You’re serious,” I said, eyeing Kalon. “So, what, eternity drives the Aeternae to madness?”

  “Not all of them,” Kalon replied, his gaze finding mine. “A considerable number, yes. Most are peaceful, just confused and forgetful. Their minds cannot cope with all the information and memories gathered over the course of three to four million years, or more, in some cases. It’s assumed that our bodies have yet to adjust to our immortal nature, in that sense.”

  “I’ve heard these tales from other Rimians and Naloreans passing through,” Jacinda said. “Former servants who provided blood for the eldest Aeternae in their sanctuaries. After their five-year service is complete, they’re granted freedom from the empire. Most of them roam these lands, looking for places to settle down.”

  “Five-year service?” I asked.

  Kalon smiled. “The eldest Aeternae have considerably greater appetites than the rest of us. They consume more Rimian and Nalorean blood. In order to avoid draining the people, the empire has assigned five-year terms of service to those selected to serve the retirement islands. They come out weak, of course, but they have the rest of their lifetimes to recover and replenish.”

  It took me a few minutes to wrap my head around that. “Sheesh, it seems like every day I learn something new about you people.”

  “So you haven’t seen Trev Blayne at all?” Kalon asked Jayan and Jacinda. The siblings shook their heads again. “Tall man, dark skin, carries the Visentis sigil on his shoulder. He’s likely trying to keep a low profile these days. Perhaps under a hood.”

  “Milord, I, for one, have not seen such a creature in these parts,” Jayan said. “But the tavern on the north side of the village might be able to help. Many travelers stop there, since the owner offers rooms for the night, as well.”

  “Jayan is right,” Jacinda replied. “If one wishes to keep a low profile, as milord said, one stops at Mamie’s tavern.”

  “It’s also where the Darklings first stop when they raid our village,” Jayan added, his gaze darkening with sadness and anger. “They like to feast on local blood before they come for our young ones.”

  I wondered if there was anything we could do to stop this nonsense. It wasn’t fair to these Rimians, especially since they paid taxes and gave their blood, like the empire required. I pulled Kalon to the side, briefly apologizing to Jayan and Jacinda, who waited on the edge of the fountain and murmured between themselves.

  “We have to do something,” I said.

  Kalon raised an eyebrow at me. “Something? About what, exactly?”

  “About the Darklings raiding this place!” I snapped. “How are you not thinking the same thing? We could ambush them, catch one or more of them. They might have information about Zoltan. Hell, they might even lead us to Trev! It’s not right that they’re allowed to torture these people. It’s obvious that Zoltan took many of the city Darklings away with him, but the provinces are still in danger.”

  “You’re a good woman,” Kalon replied, giving me a soft smile. There was meaning in those blue eyes of his, meaning I hadn’t captured before. Maybe it was a new manifestation of his feelings toward me. Maybe I wasn’t the only one falling here…

  Even so, I had to keep my head in the game. My leg hurt, but I could still be useful against the Darklings, if push came to shove. “Zoltan neglected this village’s pleas and many others on purpose, for years. We both know why. He’s gone now, so it’s time to set things straight. You saw the Red Thread faction. You know there’s turmoil brewing among the Rimians. They’re getting tired of Aeternae occupation, and a lot of that frustration must come from the empire’s inability to protect places like this. If you don’t want riots on your hands and the loss of innocent lives, you need to step up.”

  “You’re absolutely right,” Kalon said, then looked at Jayan. “When was the last Darkling raid?”

  Jayan frowned, briefly glancing at his sister. “It happens at every full moon. Like clockwork.”

  Kalon shot me a devilish grin. “Well, whaddya know, Esme? There’s a full moon tonight.”

  “It’s why we’re sending our children into the woods before sundown,” Jacinda replied. “Why our men spent the whole day hunting, so they can have supplies out there, while the rest of us hold down the fort here.”

  “If the adults stay behind, won’t you all be possible targets, too?” I asked.

  Jacinda nodded. “Yes, milady. But it’s better if they take one or more of us, and not our children. I’ve already lost a daughter to these bastards. Jayan has been left without both sons. We’ve reached the end of our wits here.”

  “And you said they usually start their raid from Mamie’s tavern, up north?” Kalon asked.

  “Yes, milord. It’s a mile from here. You’ll see the wooden building rising on the curb of the road. The forest is thick and dark behind it. That’s where the Darklings usually emerge from,” Jayan explained.

  “Out of sheer curiosity, from what you’re telling us, the Darklings must know these woods rather well. Is it safe to send your children there, especially with the night upon them?” I asked.

  Jacinda smiled, nodding at the fountain. “We cover them in black mineral. The Aeternae can’t catch their scent.”

  Kalon seemed stunned by this revelatio
n. “Black mineral?”

  He walked over to the fountain, carefully analyzing the water and the sediment at the bottom. Jayan chuckled, clearly pleased to have surprised Kalon about this. “It’s a secret among our people out here,” he said. “We discovered the properties of black mineral a few decades ago. Only the Rimians and the Naloreans living in these areas know about the springs’ sediment.”

  “How does it work?” I asked.

  “It masks our scent,” Jacinda replied. “We’ve learned to control our breathing and heartbeat, too. We use forest herbs to help keep the children calm. It makes them practically invisible to the Darklings, especially when they’re hiding up in the trees.”

  “The kids love climbing all the way to the top,” Jayan said. “It’s how we’ve managed to hold out for the past few years. Otherwise, our village would’ve been empty by now.”

  I would’ve imagined the Darklings showing some form of restraint in these monthly raids, so as not to deplete their blood slave resources. Obviously, they weren’t inclined to think that far ahead, but the Rimians had adapted. I had to give it to Jayan and his people. They’d learned to survive despite the harsh conditions.

  “Let’s have a drink at the tavern, then,” Kalon said to me. “We might have some fun tonight, after all.”

  Some fun? What sort of fun did he have in mind? My cheeks blushed. I could feel the redness spreading, my skin feeling hot, almost incandescent. My heart performed several somersaults as we walked back to our Visions, a plan already drawing itself in our minds.

  “Jacinda, Jayan, I suggest you do what you usually do,” Kalon added as we mounted the horses. “Send the children away, and use some of that black mineral on yourselves, too. If you have basements or cellars, use them. Hide. Don’t let the Darklings take anyone tonight. Esme and I will wait for them at the tavern. Hopefully, this will be the last time that Tromb has to deal with them.”