378 C.E. 03/04 Late Sun

 

The horrors that befell the men inside the estate… We were able to sneak in undetected, clearing each room meticulously and silently. Empty room after empty room, decoys most likely… Eventually, we stumbled upon the Vampire’s chamber. When the bravest amongst us breached the room, a trap was sprung. Spikes emerged from each side of the door’s frame, simultaneously impaling the torso of the poor man entering and creating a barrier to block entry. It alerted the vampire. Our intelligence suggested it was a weaker vampire. Thank God it was correct, else I would not be here, resting in the deceased vampire’s estate. My prediction was nearly correct, just over half the team died. Repeated flanked stabbings with our endowed weapons did the vampire in as it tore whoever was in front of it apart.

- Jade

 

Chapter Two

404 C.E.

Trassig observed, looming over the unconscious bodies of Leah and Hannah. He stared at them impatiently, wondering if they would wake up. He glanced at the horses in the stable, and they stared back.

  .  .  .  Daniel escaped… He will alert his father, and his father will alert the elder of the village. Then the elder will send notice to Welshir Palace, a paladin of the highest order will come to town in a few days time, according to my father’s past experience. Nowadays the paladins were selected from birth and trained restlessly so they would at least last a minute in a head on battle with a stronger vampire. I will need to alert my father, but his judgment on my doings will bring me great suffering and shame, I'm sure.  .  . 

He dreaded the thought.

“Please wake up. I couldn’t stand to be without the two of you.” Trassig whispered. “The thought of making memories and sharing stories brings a feeling to my core that nothing else on this earth has before.”

Trassig couldn't explain its origin, his teachings were the opposite of his feelings, and that confused him. He crouched by Leah and ran his fingers through her hair. The paranormal, innate desire for the affection of others overwhelmed his duty to obey his father’s wishes. Visrynth told him to feed on this village, but instead, he decided to create relationships with the population. Choosing to feed on the captives held in the dungeons of his manor. It angered Visrynth to no end that Trassig wasn't grasping his teachings and fully inheriting Nobellum’s ideals. Trassig couldn’t figure out why Visrynth was always angry at him, pushing him to become emotionless, when Trassig knew deep inside that's not how he wanted to feel. He wanted to have friends and family and people that cared about him, too.

“I can’t get these feelings out of my head!” He exclaimed with hands ruffling at his hair.

 

Slowly, Leah gained consciousness, Trassig’s worried look washed away from his face. She opened her heavy eyes and looked at Hannah. Crawling over to her sister, her face dawned a distraught look.

“Wake up Hannah… Wake up.” She gently shook her shoulders, needing her wish to come true. “Trace, do something!”

Hannah sharply inhaled, looking around with gaping eyes. Then, they met Leah’s. She stared deeply for a moment.

“Leah, your eyes… They’re red.” Hannah said, faintly.

She reached out to touch Leah’s soft skin. Her sleek, gentle caress was greeted by a harsh, flaky texture where she used to be able to find solace and warmth. Hannah’s frail hand, coming into focus, was cloudy and ashen. She looked at her own nails, elongated to a point. A numbness enveloped her soul, overflowing with nothingness. Tears did not flow from her reddened eyes when she felt no grief or regret, beholding the perversion of her sister’s body.

“Everything is going to be okay, Hannah. I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Leah embraced her little sister, feeling no warmth in return…

She did not experience the same numbness that she felt from Hannah. Rather, a growing concern for her sister’s well being encompassed the entirety of Leah’s mind. She disregarded how foreign her skin felt, and the empty, unsatiated pit in her gut. She subconsciously flexed a new muscle, and the scampering of rats in the fields outside the stable could be heard, as if the rodents were at their feet. The stable shone brighter, as the night grew darker. The pungent odor of horse manure became harder to ignore. Leah released her sibling and lifted her head to look around.

“Your eyes, they’re glowing.” Hannah said starkly.

Abruptly, her senses were robbed by famine. A searing pain engulfed her body when she tried to focus on honing her perception. It stemmed from her stomach, branching outwards like crackling thunder. She collapsed, holding her gut with both arms.

“You need to feed if you want to focus your senses and build strength, Leah.” Trassig said.

The words created a conflict in her mind. When she would flex this new muscle, an overpowering urge to consume the human soul overcame her. At the same time, a raging battle took place inside her mind, as if she was trying to prevent this new blood from taking hold.

 

  .  .  .  You need to feed  .  .  . 

 

Trassig’s voice echoed in her head, each word followed by the overflowing pulsations pounding on the walls of her mind. Leah looked at Hannah, wondering if she was experiencing the same feelings. Hannah sat motionless, staring back at her big sister with a blank expression, feeling no empathy.

“You’ll only feel a deeper desire to feed if you keep pushing your senses. We should go.” Trassig said.

Leah stood up, holding her guts in a slouched posture. She retrieved her sister, pulling her up from the ground. Trassig led the way out of the stable with feet crunching in the hay. The door creaked open, letting in the moonlit sky. The three children walked through the field, and over the gravely path, then vanished into the treeline.

The moon was hung high in the clear, speckled sky. Stars glittered whilst a calm breeze kissed the leaves in a blissfully unaware forest.

“Hurry son! You have to keep up!” Simon panted.

“I’m trying!” He responded.

Pebbles scattered underneath each stride Simon and Daniel took on the long and narrow path, nearing the stable. Simon held an oil lamp in one hand and a gleaming silver dagger in the other as trees flew by in their peripherals. His stress grew to immensity at the thought of having to combat a vampire one on one. Simon thought of every possible scenario beyond his first fear, death, as he recounted his past experiences.

  .  .  .  Vampires seldom breed because it’ll make them weaker. I pray that the vampire who turned my daughters is not a strong one, if it is, and lying in wait, then I’m going to die. I am almost certain that this is a young blooded vampire, and that I'll be able to fight it head on. It takes at least fifty years for their strengths to mature. My studies indicated that the consumption of human souls is what grants them their power.  .  . The pair screeched to a halt when the stable was visible through the moonlight. Daniel’s heart beated through his chest.

“I-I’m scared, dad.” He muttered with wide eyes.

“I am too.” Simon’s grip tightened as he took deep breaths to soothe his nerves. “Remember what we talked about in the house.”

Daniel nodded at his father, who was illuminated by orange lamplight and gray moonlight. He crouched down, slowly following behind the man he looked up to most in life, trying to be sneaky. Simon did not mirror his son, his posture was tall while walking towards the stable. 

“Don’t waste your energy sneaking, son. If there’s a vamp in that building, it already knows we’re here. We’ve done good to make it this far. I’d be dead already if it was a strong one. Glad my theory was correct.”

Daniel continued to creep, too uncomfortable to make obvious noise as his father walked in a combative stance ahead of him. Reaching the door, Simon set his lantern onto the gravel and noticed the padlock on the ground.

“Unlocked still… Huh.” He noted.

The door creaked open, horses reacting casually to the sound, taking comfort in the recognizable smell of the man they trust most. The lantern Simon bared casted light onto the darkness that consumed the stable. He began carefully investigating. Recalling hiding spots that his children would use in their younger years when he played their games, he checked the nooks and crannies of the stable. In the center of it all was a discarded bucket.

“Why is this here?” Simon picked up the bucket as Daniel mustered the courage to speak.

“Trace cut his wrist.” Daniel recalled, the image tearing at his psyche. “He bled into the bucket and they drank it.”

“What?” Simon was perplexed, yet fascinated at the same time.

He stared into the bucket, noticing black stains lining its walls. He touched them with his fingernail, feeling a rough, dry texture, yet was unable to scrape any off.

“Vampires don’t bleed, Daniel.” Simon retorted as he set the bucket down and continued investigating. “I’ve never seen one bleed, even from a stab wound.”

“But it’s true dad, Trace did bleed.”

“When weaker vampires are cut or stabbed with endowed weapons, their wounds sizzle and burn, they don’t bleed. It wears them down and makes them slower. As the wounds mount, they become so crippled that they’re unable to continue fighting.”

“What about the strong ones, then?” Daniel inquired.

“I don’t know, son. I've only read stories about them.” Simon pondered.

“What did they say?” Daniel asked, thirsty for knowledge.

“Most of the books I read were given to me by an old friend that used to be a Paladin. They were written to document the battles that took place during The Purge of Evil.” He said.

Simon continued searching the stable for clues as to his daughter's whereabouts. 

“I recall an intense battle near the end of The Purge. At that point, the vampires were nearly snuffed out, only the fiercest remained. It was documented that this vampire was able to overpower armies with finesse. Post battle reviews with surviving soldiers were grim. They stated that it was as if they had been fighting multiple legions of longbowmen with supernatural strength three-hundred yards out. Crimson splinters the size of a grown man’s forearm rained from the sky and halted advances onto its castle. A handful of soldiers that were interviewed recounted seeing a vampire hovering in the distant night sky, silhouetted by the moon.”

“What’s the Paladin’s name? I’ve never seen one in person.” Daniel said.

“His name is Isaac. I’m unsure if he is still alive, or if they imprisoned him.”

Simon checked the last place he could think of, a large storage chest inside the stable where he kept his horse grooming tools. He slammed it shut, startling Daniel, at the sight that it only contained tools and not a person. He rubbed his temples with closed eyes.

“What do we do now?” Daniel asked.

Simon continued thinking, creating a plan within his mind. Daniel stared at his father patiently, trusting any decision he would make completely.

“We have to go to the capital, Welshir Palace.” Simon crouched down, feeling the dirt floor of the stable. “My daughters, and the vampire that turned them, vanished into the night. If we’re going to find them, we need help.”

Daniel silently nodded to his father and followed him out of the stable. He had reserved hope that his sisters could be saved, despite what his father had told him. A light rainfall trickled the ground surrounding them as they walked back to their house to rest. It concealed the tears flowing down Simon’s cheeks.

  .  .  .  God, what is your plan for me? Is this your way of making me atone for my sins? To send me back into this life of danger along with my son? He did nothing wrong, father… I am the sole sinner here, not him. He’s a boy that only just began his teenage childhood. Is this your way of testing my faith in you?  .  .  . Simon prayed during the wet journey back to his home, taking comfort in the tug of Daniel’s grip on his sleeve. 

Short blue flashes filled the night sky, a spectacle that Daniel beheld while following his father’s lead like a blind man. He wiped rain from his face and eyes as it built up, quicker and quicker. Daniel felt almost numb, a blank expression staring into the flaring gray clouds that consumed the sky above. 

Are those angels fighting evil in the night sky? He thought. 

Before he realized it, the familiar creek of the front door broke his trance. They hurried inside to dry off before sleeping through the rest of the night. Daniel laid in his bed with wide eyes, staring at his ceiling. The patter of rain against the wood soothed his nerves. Blue light flashed into his room occasionally as his eyes became heavier and heavier.

Daniel’s eyes opened wide at the sight of a gray bricked, dust-laden cellar. His arms were chained against the wall, and around him were others that suffered the same fate. A large wooden door with metal bars reinforcing it loomed in the distance, growing further and further away, distorting the room. Sweat tickled his forehead and streamed around his brows before dripping to the already damp floor. He looked around for an alternative escape, but was greeted by an endless row of tortured souls to his left and right. They wailed out in pain, blood covering their torsos. Daniel struggled against his shackles, trying to break free and escape the unimaginably large dungeon. The whining of metal and creaking of wood echoed, and suddenly an opened door snapped to the front of his vision, blackness beyond the door’s frame. 

It was just him inside a narrow cell now, the wailing from the others ceased just as their existence ceased. A black figure with red eyes emerged from the doorway, karting in various tools. A wickedly sharp, tooth filled smile was visible through the black figure’s guise as he reached for a pointy object. Then, in the corner of his vision, he could see a white orb hovering in place. It speckled and drifted around the room, eventually finding its way to Daniel. It seemed sentient, making choices independent of Daniel’s mind. 

“Such a sad fate for a child so innocent.” It said.

Snapping awake from his father’s voice, Daniel thought: Who was that cloaked man? What was that dream? And that voice… 

“Daniel, Get up! I’ve got the horses ready, we’re heading to Welshir Palace!”

Daniel inhaled sharply and stretched his arms. A group of house finches communed in the large evergreen situated closely to his bedroom. Within their singing, a lone mourning dove sang prominently. He looked around his room with concern, noticing his belongings were missing. All of his clothes, save a set for him to wear right now, were gone. While rubbing his eyes, he put on his pants and tunic and rushed to the front door. 

Outside, stood his father, who was untying the reins of the two horses he was beside from a post. Daniel recognized the larger, jet-black horse as his father’s preferred steed. Strapped onto both of them was a majority of their belongings.

“Are we coming back home after-” Daniel asked.

“No.” Simon crossed his arms, adjusting a long tube, capped on both ends and strapped to his back. “We’ve got a long journey ahead of us. An old friend of mine named Isaac lives on the outskirts of Welshir Palace, on a farm. I trust him the most with what we’re going through.”

Daniel frowned and looked back at his only home. 

I wish things were the way they used to be. He thought. I miss my sisters more than anything.

Simon walked up behind Daniel and put a hand on his shoulder, agreeing with thoughts he couldn’t hear. He let out a long sigh and tightened his grip. 

“I made arrangements to have the property sold, along with the possessions we aren’t bringing with us.” Simon said.

He walked over to the tied reins and undid the knot that held a smaller, brown steed in its place. Simon glanced at Daniel from the post. He was as still as a statue, staring. 

This is all my fault… Please, forgive me father, for I have sinned. He thought, looking up at tumbling, sun-split clouds.

After a moment, Daniel turned away from the house and walked towards his father, whom he observed to be staring up into the sky, squinting with shown teeth. He wanted to ask more questions, but felt it wasn’t appropriate at the time. Daniel stopped a few feet away and waited patiently, looking up at him from chest-height. He looked left and right at his fathers arm’s, noting a long scar that extended from the base of his left forearm, to his wrist. It traveled in a rough, straight line down the narrow path between the two forearm bones.

Maybe dad will tell me the stories of his past now. Daniel thought. I’ve always wondered how he got that thick scar, but when I would ask him he always changed the subject.

“Dad? The reins?” He spoke.

“Ah.” Simon looked down, broken away from his thoughts. “Here you go. Lina’s missed you recently. She's been very fussy without you.”

Simon handed Daniel the reins attached to a dark-brown mare. There were bags full of clothes lining the sides of the saddle. Daniel reached around them to grab the saddle horn and hoisted himself up onto the thick, leather seat. He wiggled his hips, situating himself comfortably. He watched as his father opened a few containers beside him, sorting through each of them with his fingers.

“Looks like everythings here.” Simon mumbled to himself.

Simon walked towards his black steed afterwards, proceeding to do a supply check on his own things. After a quick nod, he hoisted himself up onto his own horse. He made a clicking noise with his mouth and steered, angling the horse towards the rising sun. Daniel steered to follow at the same, slow pace. As they rode through their village, he could see his peers watching him leave with sad and confused expressions. Daniel tried to focus forward, ignoring their looks.

Stay strong, stay strong, stay strong… He thought. 

“Where are your sisters!?” One of the boys in the background shouted.

Daniel’s composure broke at the reminder of what had happened, tears began to flow down his cheeks. He slouched with a scrunched face, staring at the back of his mare’s neck. When he glanced up, he could see his father’s knuckles, white as papyrus, gripping his reins. It wasn’t long before they left the village behind through thick trees and winding paths.

“Let’s stop for a few minutes, feed the horses.” Simon said as he motioned his steed to come to a halt.

Daniel dismounted along with his father and looked up at the overbearing sun directly overhead. Sweat beaded on his forehead while he reached into a bag to retrieve some horse feed. A calm breeze flowed through the forest, kissing his skin with a cold sensation. It complimented the beads of sweat that sparsely covered him. He stared at his father while Lina ate from his hand, the sensation on his palm was slightly ticklish.

I’ve never seen dad like this before… Daniel thought, observing his father’s cold demeanor. 

Simon’s eyes were puffed, and his lips pressed flat against each other. He was rubbing his temple with one hand, while using the other to feed his horse. He kept straightening his neck and flexing it, stretching it to the left and right, and occasionally, he would scrunch his eyes closed. Like someone was trying to throw sand in his face and he was reacting.

“You okay, son?” Simon’s eyes met Daniels.

“Yeah dad, I’m fine.” Daniel quickly averted his eyes.

Daniel brushed the crumbs off his hands and got back onto his horse, patiently waiting for his father to finish what he was doing in front of him. He took a swig of water from his half-full waterskin. After a long moment, they continued further down the road towards Welshir Palace.

 

As the evening turned into night, the birds and rodents made their way to their homes to sleep. Simon and Daniel strayed off the trail to set up camp after tying down their horses. The nighttime winds were more intense than usual. Trees groaned and creaked above them, and their leaves produced a white noise that overwhelmed any cricket’s chirp.

“Shouldn’t we set up a campfire to cook some of the dried meat we have?” Daniel asked.

Simon continued to prop their tent up silently, without acknowledging his son. After he finished, he began inspecting the area around the tent, lost in thought.

“Dad?” Daniel spoke up.

“Yes?” Simon finally responded.

“Are we going to cook any of the meat we have?”

“No, it’s too windy for a campfire. The embers may get caught on our tent or in a bush somewhere.”
“Oh…” Daniel took a mental note of his father’s wisdom. “What are you doing?” 

“I’m trying to determine the most likely point of entry an enemy would take to enter our camp.”

Simon paced around some more, patrolling the edge of the clearing they found. Suddenly, he stopped and crouched, looking at the dirt.

“Come here.” Simon whispered, Daniel rushed over.

“You see this track in the ground? Look at how deep it is.” Simon pointed.

He fingered a footprint that imprinted the ground. It looked like a normal human footprint to Daniel, except the nails were vastly overgrown. Simon inspected it further, attempting to determine the age of the print.

“This isn’t new, which is good.” Simon continued. “You see the little puddle of water inside the print? That means that it was formed before, or during, when it rained yesterday. Another way you can tell is look…”

Simon submerged a finger in the track and retrieved a large pebble.

“This was knocked in here from the heavy winds earlier today. I could tell because it was loose inside the track, instead of it being pushed into the dirt. Now what concerns me is…”

Simon stomped on the hard ground, even after the rainfall, it barely gave in.

“A vampire made that track, and my guess is that it's between three days, and two weeks old. I also know that this vampire is not a young one, either.” He put a hand on his chin, wondering. “Probably a Third Generation.”

“Third Generation?” Daniel asked, confused.

“To put it in simple terms, the weakest of the strong vampires.” Simon began setting green pebbles down in a triangular pattern, around the track. “Most, if not all of the First and Second Generation vampires can fly, not like a regular bird though, I don't know how to describe it. Like a hummingbird…”

Daniel inspected each pebble his father laid into the grass. Looking closely, he could see faint gray markings on each one of them. They looked random at first, but upon further inspection, he could see a pattern on it, as if it was a language.

“Are we going to fight the First and Second Generation vampires?” Daniel said.

“I truly hope we don’t have to.” Simon stood up straight and faced Daniel. “If you see a vampire you think you can't handle, run.”

I wanna know more about these older vampires… What are their weaknesses? Daniel thought.

“Before the sun is completely gone, I'm going to secure this clearing a bit more.” Simon said, walking toward the loose edge of trees near the tent.

Daniel retreated inside the tent and relaxed. He set his head on a sack of grain and slowly drifted away.

Daniel inhaled sharply and opened his eyes. He was in the center of a room illuminated by shades of crimson. Smooth walls surrounded him in every direction. He walked over and touched one, the texture was like glass. Daniel blinked, and became centralized in the doorless prison again. He opened his mouth to shout for help, but the room was flooded by eerie silence. Looking behind himself, he saw black palms reaching out, pressing against the glass exterior. They whined against the walls desperately, clawing and pounding. He listened to his first instinct and ran away, but bumped into something and recoiled in the opposite direction. Falling onto his back, he looked up at what he ran into. 

The same black figure as before loomed over his body, its maw opening with delicious anticipation. Daniel scooted backwards, and the dark figure stayed in its place.

“Still have some fight in you, boy?” The voice echoed.

Immediately after it spoke, black hands devoured the entire perimeter, darkening the room. The figure looked around.

“Souls of the dead, the forgotten, the consumed.” The voice laughed.

Daniel looked down and reared in horror. Both of his hands were missing. A faint white light appeared in his lap, twinkling with vigor.

“Don’t give-” The wisp said.

“Daniel, you feel really warm.” Simon said with a hand on Daniel’s forehead.

Daniel snapped his eyes open and sprung to a sitting position. He immediately looked at his hands, hyperventilating from dread.

“Woah, are you okay? Bad dream?” Simon asked, putting a hand on his back. 

“Yeah, something like that.” Daniel said.

“You’re alright, you’re alright… We’ve got a few days left of travel. There’s a small village that we can stay at tonight. It’s about a day's ride away.”

“Okay.” Daniel said.

What… What are these dreams? What did the white light mean? Give what? Daniel thought.