Fallen Ambitions

by Vann, Eric J.

  Celia took a step back, drawing her dagger as she did. A sizzling sound emanated from it as the blade turned red hot. The stranger in the Caelian embroidery stood before her, his hand gripping his mace as he regarded her.

  “Who are you? Why are you standing with the Wervins?” Celia asked, her focus on the man’s red eyes, those same red eyes which had brought so much violence to her once peaceful life.

  “I am but an observer and messenger. The real conundrum is why a high-level undead lich and a demon such as yourself are bothering with Wervins in the first place,” the man replied.

  Celia raised her right hand slightly and activated her Inspection skill. Gray runes appeared before her a moment later.

  You have successfully Inspected your target.

  * * *

  Name: Rias Alense

  Race: Hybrid, Vampire

  Rank: Greater Enlightened

  Level: 36

  * * *

  A level thirty-six vampire? Celia knew little about the race, except that they were a necrotic-demonic hybrid who had supposedly been exterminated from the Eastern Peninsula during the chaos that followed the fall of the Caelian Empire. Obviously, not all of them had been. This particular vampire had a family name, even if she did not recognize it, which meant that he had been a noble at some point in the past.

  The man shivered at her Inspection, then frowned almost playfully. “Honestly, that was remarkably rude. The people of this age have lost all manners. You only had to ask for an introduction.”

  “I’m not in the mood for pleasantries,” Celia replied curtly. “I’m here to free these people and punish those responsible.”

  Rias gave her a half-smile. “Then your friend has already finished your job for you. I certainly did not capture these people,” he added, with an exaggerated shrug. “I couldn’t care less if you took them and left.”

  Celia narrowed her eyes as she fixed her gaze upon the dim red glow of Rias’s eyes. The same red eyes her father had had that night… Fire mana began to seep from her fingers. “Who are you and wha—”

  The man leapt forward, his mace held high. Celia tried to move, but couldn’t—she couldn’t move! She grunted with the effort, but with all her strength, she could only take a half-step to one side, her body resisting even the slightest of movements.

  It was enough to save her life. The blunt force of the mace crashed into her shoulder instead of her head—and Celia screamed as she was knocked to the ground. A bone-crunching pain radiated from her left shoulder as she felt herself regain control of her body.

  Celia clenched her jaw in agony, one hand gripping her crushed shoulder. The other hand dangled limply at her side. The vampire grinned down at her, the mace gripped tightly in his right hand. Then he raised it to strike her again. Celia prepared herself to roll away from the blow, already braced for the shocking pain which would accompany any movement—when her eyes met his. Instantaneously, her body again froze, and the pain vanished.

  “Truly,” the vampire said with a shake of his head as he lowered his weapon. “For a Succubus, you really are quite foolish.” Celia realized her error with horror: he was Charming her! Each time she made eye contact, he took control of her body.

  She had fallen for her own trick, twice.

  Rias patted the head of the mace against his palm, giving her a pitying look. “Beating a woman is not really my style,” he drawled. “But I think an exception can be made.”

  Celia tried to back away, but she still couldn’t move. She panicked, sprawled there on the floor. Was this how she would die? Think, think, think! An idea sprang to her mind, just as Rias raised the mace above his head, ready to cave her skull in.

  Her golden eyes glowed brightly—brightly enough to illuminate the vampire and all around him, as she channeled all of her power. Rias’s downward swing slowed, then stopped altogether.

  His eyes grew dim, his expression distant as her own Charm took effect. As it did, the sensations in her body returned in full force—including the heart-stopping pain of her shattered shoulder. Celia hissed in agony, her vision going black for a moment with the sudden shock. Using the bars of a nearby cage, she pulled herself back to her feet, and leered at Rias as he stood still. Even the terrible pain couldn’t prevent her grin.

  Unlike his, her Charm ability didn’t need direct eye contact. She took advantage of the vampire’s state by kicking him in the groin.

  Rias’s eyes rolled back into his head as he buckled and fell to the ground. Celia kicked him again, and the vampire gasped. She still needed answers: why were his eyes so similar to her father’s? Before she could interrogate him, Rias twisted before her third kick landed and grabbed her armored heel with both hands. He grinned a toothy grin, his fangs showing from between his lips, before he pulled hard. Celia lost her balance and fell, but not before whipping her tail around to slash at him.

  Rias grunted, but whatever damage her tail may have caused did not stop him from grabbing his mace and lunging at her. Celia tried to Charm him again, but Rias disappeared—she blinked, but he had moved so quickly that he was suddenly behind her, the grip end of his mace slamming into the back of her head.

  Celia collapsed.

  The back of her head throbbed; when she tried to roll to her knees, the world lurched. It took everything she had just to keep from vomiting. She thought she heard noises, movement around her, but she couldn’t take it in, she was seeing double. She collapsed again, onto her back, wondering why Rias had not simply finished her off already.

  When she could see again, Celia stared wide-eyed at the vampire. He was standing above her, still holding his mace halfway through the strike which would have surely ended her. A curved bone the thickness of her arm jutted out of the ground behind him and had pierced directly through his chest. A growing sense of dread began to engulf her as she heard the echo of an approaching staff tapping on stone.

  She could also hear whimpers and sobs from the caged humans around her, who had kept silent until now, before they began to fall unconscious from the sheer fear and terror that had infected them. Celia was having trouble staying sane herself: her instincts were screaming at her to run, hide, to do anything but stay here.

  She fought through it, gripping her shattered shoulder to keep it in place. Her Master’s healing powers were already started to set the bone. She pushed herself back against the nearest cage, her mouth dry as she struggled to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat.

  Her sweaty hands trembled as the sound of the staff came ever closer.

  Vhal appeared before them, his eyes midnight black. Several specters in the shape of human skulls floated and shifted around him, their movements accompanied by a continuous eerie whistle. The once-black crystal atop his staff was transformed, Celia saw: a bright green eye now twisted and moved within it. Everything about the lich screamed death and rage, and Celia shuddered as he passed her.

  Vhal didn’t even acknowledge her presence. His focus was solely on the vampire who still stood unmoving, his blood-red eyes wide, his lips quivering. His hands gripped the tip of the bloody bone which held him.

  “W–who are you?” the vampire asked, his voice low and labored.

  “Bearer of Erethis’s curse,” Vhal said, ignoring the question, and his voice was different, deeper and throatier than usual. The lich reached out with one hand, his fingers wrapping around the vampire’s throat. Rias, still frozen, could not even try to resist.

  Vhal brought his face closer to the vampire’s until he was staring straight into Rias’s eyes. “Where is she?” he asked, his tone causing another shiver to run across Celia’s skin.

  “Who?” Rias replied, panicked. His hands were finally moving, and they scrabbled at his neck, trying to free himself from Vhal’s grip.

  Vhal growled and raised his hand, lifting Rias off the bone stake by the neck. Celia had not even known the lich had that sort of Strength—actually, she was certain he had not. Whatever was occurring here, Vhal had beco
me stronger, much stronger.

  Rias struggled to breathe, trying desperately to escape Vhal’s death grip, but to no avail. Vhal slammed the vampire against one of the cages, causing him to gasp.

  “Where is Nevani?” Vhal bellowed. “You were one of her guards! Where is the Imperial Princess?”

  Imperial Princess? Celia thought. She didn’t know of any member of the Ejani or Jannatin Imperial families named Nevani.

  “I—I…” Rias stuttered.

  “SPEAK!”

  “I don’t know!” Rias said, and he began to sob.

  Vhal’s black eyes flashed, and Celia could see the lich’s fingernails dig deeper into the vampire’s throat. “You will tell me what I wish to know, or I will use whatever means necessary to extract it from your mind.”

  “I don’t know where she is! In Vala’s memory I swear it!” Rias gasped. Celia could tell that he was running out of air.

  “Vhal,” Celia called out—he was in danger of killing the vampire, and if that happened, any answers would die with him. She immediately regretted her actions when the lich fixed his awful gaze upon her, his dark eyes burrowing into her.

  “Be silent,” Vhal said. “Do not interfere. This is my mark. Hinder me once more and not even the future Sovereign’s grace will keep you from my wrath.” The pure hatred in his voice convinced Celia that he meant every word. Even the ones she didn’t understand.

  Celia slumped forward, relieved when he refocused his attention on the vampire, who was now unconscious. Vhal cursed under his breath and released his grip, allowing the vampire to crumple to the ground. He then crooked his finger and directed one of the hovering spectral skulls toward the limp form of Rias. The green eye within the crystal atop his staff tracked the spectral skull as it flew into the vampire’s chest, disappearing into it with a puff of black mist.

  Several moments of silence followed. Celia remained still, not understanding what was happening or whether it would be wise to move when Vhal was behaving so strangely. Her suspicions that this was not the same Vhal she had descended into the Underdark with grew stronger. More importantly, was the lich still loyal to her Master? She hoped so, because she knew she had no chance against him if he decided to rid himself of her.

  She had just opened her mouth to speak when Rias’s body suddenly arched upward, and the vampire let out a shriek of torment. His nails elongated into claws, and he ripped into his own body, as if trying to dig something out of himself. Blood and gore splattered the floor.

  Vhal stood, watching impassively as droplets of blood rained down on Celia. Then, as she watched in amazement, the extensive damage the vampire was inflicting on himself began to heal almost immediately. It happened faster even than her Master’s Soul Rejuvenation. Vhal let out a dark chuckle.

  “The swift healing Erethis’s curse affords you is a double-edged sword,” Vhal said, his voice chillingly calm. “You will suffer this everlasting pain without the hope of the sweet release of death… not unless you tell me what I want to know.”

  “Please!” Rias screamed, his voice increasingly desperate as it rose in pitch. His once regal and immaculate coat was shredded and damp with his own spurting blood. “S—Stop! It burns!”

  “Where is she?” Vhal asked, his calm tone in complete contrast to the horrific self-harm Rias was inflicting on himself.

  “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you anything!” Rias begged as tears of blood fell from his eyes.

  “Where is she?” Vhal asked again, his tone more insistent.

  “Please!” Rias screamed.

  Vhal leaned down and placed a gentle hand on the vampire’s head, and the screaming immediately stopped. Rias fell limp again, his wounds knitting themselves together as he took long, heavy breaths. His whole body sagged weakly.

  “Tell me,” Vhal said, his hand drifting down to lift Rias’ chin.

  “The Empress, she awakened only recently,” Rias said in a hurry, the sheer terror in his eyes visible for all to see. “I was sent here to direct the Wervins to collect some important items and keep the central powers distracted. I don’t know where she is right now, but I heard she left the Underdark shortly after she awakened.”

  “Empress?” Vhal’s eyes narrowed, causing the vampire to shrink back. “Nevani is Empress? What of Emperor Ivannan? Is he dead?”

  Rias nodded mutely.

  Celia couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Vhal was speaking of these people as if they might still be walking among them. How could members of the Caelian Imperial Family still be alive after all this time?

  Vhal remained silent for a few moments, his gaze drifting away before refocusing on the vampire, causing Rias’s breath to catch. “What is it you were distracting them from?”

  “I was told no details—but I overheard some talk of the Ejani paying for a debt long overdue. I only came here to collect the Dryad’s seed and heart! Sukan asked for them, I know not why. Please, that is all I know!”

  Vhal’s black eyes flashed. “Sukan, the Captain of the Guard, is alive?”

  “Yes! But he is not Captain any longer. He is the Empress’s right-hand man; he was the one in control throughout all the years she had been away. Please—let me go! I’ll leave, go far from all of this!”

  Vhal shook his head, not unlike a disappointed father, Celia thought. The thought reminded her of her questions about her own father, but one look at Vhal and she knew she would have to wait for an answer.

  “I cannot let you go, spawn of Erethis,” Vhal said, his hand once again resting on the top of Rias’s head. “The cursed blood which courses through you offends me. You will serve a higher purpose now.”

  The vampire’s red eyes grew distant—and then, starting from the edges, a curtain of black slowly inched its way across his eyes until they were completely filmed in black. Rias made no sound as he fell back on the stone floor. Black ooze bubbled from his mouth and ears until he was covered in it. The ooze then shot up and merged with Vhal’s staff… and Rias’s body was gone. Only his once-fine clothes remained.

  Celia blinked. The other spectral skulls looped around Vhal one final time and let out a low howl, before they puffed out of existence.

  Celia watched Vhal from behind. His shoulders rose as he took a deep inward breath and then let it out again, and as he did, the terrible tension in the room which had caused so much paranoia and fear vanished without a trace.

  “Vhal?” she asked, uncertainly. Was the lich before her an ally or an enemy? She got slowly to her feet, her shoulder fully healed now.

  Vhal knelt and searched through the vampire’s inner pockets before he stood back up. He turned, and Celia saw that his eyes were blue again. The crystal atop his staff was also black and empty—the green eye was gone. There was no grin or mirth on his face. This might have been the most serious Celia had ever seen the lich.

  He held a small round object between his fingers, which he offered to her. “The Grove Heart,” he said, before noticing that the object was coated in the vampire’s blood. He used his robes to wipe it clean before offering it to Celia again. “Our quest is complete,” he added, as Celia hesitantly accepted it.

  “Vhal?” she said, trying to gauge where his mind was, but the lich did not respond. Instead, he pulled his notebook from under his robes and began penning something on a fresh page.

  Celia watched as Vhal finished writing and ripped out the page, folding it once. Then he took off his dimensional bag and offered both to her. “Return to our Lord and give him the good news. Deliver this letter to him,” he said, his blue eyes pulsing with anger.

  “Deliver it to him?” Celia asked, glancing at the paper. “You can deliver it yourself. Where do you think you’re going after all this?”

  “To fulfill a promise I made,” Vhal said as he took a step closer, and forced the piece of paper and the bag into her hand. “Take it. I will use the Underdark passages and go to the Ejani Empire,” he said, before separating from her and moving briskly through the cages tow
ard the exit. A few Grauda had re-entered the chamber by now, Wervin blood still coating their weapons and scythes, and they stepped aside for Vhal to pass between them.

  Celia stared at his retreating form, not knowing what to say. Then she flipped open the page and read it.

  My Lord Aziel,

  It is with great reluctance and shame that I invoke my single wish: for you to release me from my oath of service, suspending my role and responsibilities to the Fallen. I know this may come as a surprise, but until a matter of personal significance is resolved, I fear my intentions may go against what is best for the Fallen.

  I go now to hunt those who have wronged me, and the people I held dear. To be the instrument of their vengeance, and to fulfill a promise and a bargain I made in my darkest moments.

  I regret that I will not be able to enchant the earth crystals, but with the Wervin blood I have arranged to be collected, along with the other materials the Grauda have already accumulated, I am confident Queen Astrel has the skills to mix the required ink. I have no doubt you will find someone with the ability to enchant them.

  My time in your service has been valuable—even enjoyable. I hope you will allow my return once all is resolved.

  Your friend,

  Vhal’nuel Novaul

  The letter ended with detailed instructions on how to apply the enchantment to the earth crystals. Again, Celia struggled to comprehend what it was she had learned, from the letter and what she had experienced so far. There was only one person Vhal could be hunting for. This Nevani, the apparent Empress of the Caelian Empire. Celia looked up. “Vhal!” she shouted. “What in the Abyss is going on?” She ran after him, hoping for answers, but he was already gone. Vanished, into the depths of the Underdark.

  Chapter 18

  Aziel gasped as Astrel pushed herself against him. Her moans and heavy panting filled the makeshift shelter they had built from large leaves and fallen branches.

  “My king,” she whispered into his ear, her voice breathy and warm. She was straddling him excitedly—one hand gripping his shoulder, while the other rested against his neck. He grunted as she rose and fell, rolling her hips as she did.