Chapter 217: A Cautionary Tale

 

  The dark clouds of the night sky concealed the two hooded figures roaming through the Veres and Gale estates’ maze garden. Stryg followed close behind Gian, intent on not getting lost in the enormous labyrinth of hedges.

  They walked in silence, intent on staying hidden from the occasional guard patrolling the area. Gian seemed to hold great influence among both House Gale and Veres, but he still insisted on moving covertly. He didn’t tell Stryg why. In fact, Gian hadn’t told him anything really.

  All Stryg knew was that Gian had asked to meet him at the front gate of the Gale estate at midnight. Once Stryg had arrived, Gian had thrown a hooded cloak over him and led him into the maze, out of sight from the guards. Stryg didn’t understand any of this, but he trusted the elder vampire.

  “How have you been, Stryg?” Gian whispered as they walked.

  “Hm? Oh, I’ve been fine,” he said.

  “Is that so…?” Gian glanced back at him, “I can smell various scents of blood on you.”

  Stryg rubbed a few silver strands of his hair and sighed, “I got in a fight yesterday. I still haven’t been able to wash the scent of their blood off my hair.”

  “Who did you fight?” Gian asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

  “Some gangsters who attacked a group of children I know.”

  “You fought them alone?”

  “Yes. There were a few dozen of them, but I managed.”

  “You should have told me, I would have helped you. It’s dangerous to fight a group of enemies by yourself.”

  “It’s fine. The longsword you gave me was more than enough help. I promise I will repay you.”

  “Nonsense, the sword was a gift, it was my pleasure,” Gian smiled.

  “Thank you, master,” Stryg bowed his head.

  “You’re welcome, but please, don’t call me master, it’s too formal.”

  “My bad, I forgot.”

  “Just call me Gian… or uncle, if you prefer.”

  “Uncle?” Stryg cocked his head to the side. “Isn’t that word used for family?”

  “It’s sometimes used as a name for an older friend, a mentor. You’re my apprentice after all,” he shrugged.

  Stryg was confused, he was beginning to understand why Gale had referred to her esteemed great-grand uncle as eccentric. Still, Stryg knew there were others who didn’t prefer their usual titles. Loh hated being called ‘professor.’ Stryg himself had no interest whatsoever in calling Elzri his god-father nor did Elzri wish to call him god-son; the arrangement had only been made to benefit each other’s positions. How Elzri benefited, Stryg still had no idea, but that drow was more secretive than most.

  “So, you like the longsword, huh?” Gian grinned.

  “Very much, its cuts are clean, and the weight feels natural in my hands,” Stryg nodded.

  “Well, that’s because I had the longsword commissioned just for you by House Gale’s personal blacksmith; she is a powerful brown mage and one of the best enchanters in all of Hollow Shade. She imbued your sword with various enchantments, enhancing the blade’s durability, sharpness, and a few other things.”

  “That explains the sigils on the blade,” Stryg nodded. He had guessed there was some enchantment on the weapon, but he hadn’t realized how extensive it really was.

  “That sword must have taken a long time to make,” Stryg muttered. Not to mention expensive.

  “Which is why I commissioned it at the beginning of summer,” Gian tapped his head and smiled.

  “You commissioned it all the way back then? But you barely knew me,” Stryg frowned.

  “I knew all I needed to.” Gian pulled out his own longsword, the blade had a soft gold sheen to it and was covered in arcane sigils. “Now, your sword may not be as good as my Primoria, but it’ll get the job done, I guarantee it.”

  A guard walked by and stiffened at the sight of the two cloaked figures. Gian dashed behind the guard in one fluid motion and smacked him across the back of the head with Primoria’s pommel. Gian caught the guard before he fell over and stuffed him in one of the hedges.

  “Sorry about that,” Gian apologized quietly to the unconscious guard. He turned to Stryg, “Shall we continue?”

  Stryg nodded slowly and kept his eyes on Gian’s sword. The elder vampire would usually use a practice weapon when sparring with him. It was rare for Stryg to see Gian’s actual sword, but he knew it well. Clypeus had told him about Primoria many times, the ancestral sword of House Gale.

  Gian caught his staring and smiled, “What will you name your sword?”

  “Huh? What do you mean?”

  “It's a common tradition to name your enchanted weapon.”

  “Is that so?”

  Gian patted Primoria’s handle,“If you’re lucky, your weapon might become famous one day and get its own ballad.”

  “Like Oginum or Krikolm?”

  “There are many enchanted artifacts of powerful Great Houses that are known throughout songs and tales.” Gian raised his fingers and began ticking some of them off, “House Morrigan’s greatsword Feather, House Thorn’s ancestral bow Rose, and yes, House Veres’ sword Krikolm, and House Goldelm’s warhammer Oginum.”

  “I see, there’s a lot of names…” Stryg furrowed his brow, “What do I name my sword?”

  “That’s usually up to its creator, but in your case, the blacksmith left your blade unnamed. It’s your choice.”

  Stryg glanced at the iron pommel of his sword and nodded to himself, “Nameless.”

  Gian’s eye twitched, “You’re calling it Nameless?”

  “Do you not like it?” Stryg asked curiously.

  “It’s fine I suppose,” he grinned wryly.

  “Nameless it is then,” Stryg smiled.

  “We’re here,” Gian stopped walking and stepped aside.

  Stryg’s eyes widened, the cemetery of House Gale and Veres lay in front of him. Gale sat a few paces away on the grass, her longsword on her lap.

  Stryg swallowed hard, “W-why did you bring me here?”

  “You’ll see,” Gian patted his back.

  Gale noticed their presence, stood up, and walked over. “I’ll keep watch.”

  “Thank you,” Gian said.

  “I’m glad to be of service, uncle,” Gale bowed deeply. She glanced at Stryg, a variety of expressions crossed her face, ranging from anger to sadness. “...You deserve a chance to be here,” she turned away and stood over the cemetery’s entrance.

  Before Stryg could answer Gian pulled him deeper into the cemetery. They passed by dozens of graves until they came across a freshly-cut marble slab.

  Stryg froze at the sight of the name on the tombstone. Clypeus Gale.

  Gian took a few steps back and stared at the grave with a solemn look in his scarlet eyes, “You never got a chance to say a proper farewell to your best friend. I’m sorry it took so long to bring you here.”

  The vampire’s words fell on deaf ears. Stryg stared at the grave, a thousand thoughts rushing through his mind. Three simple words broke through the dissonance.

  “I’m so sorry,” Stryg mumbled. His throat felt sore. He had wanted to stand here so many times. Now that he was here, he didn’t know what to say.

  Stryg couldn’t draw his eyes away from the tombstone. Somehow seeing Clypeus Gale on the marble stone made the reality of his death so painfully clear.

  Gian cleared his throat, “I hope you don’t mind the epitaph. I had it altered. I thought it more fitting to Clypeus’ legacy.”

  Stryg’s eyes widened at the words below the name.

  Here lies a great warrior of Gale, one of our greatest. His spark was smothered too soon, but his strength will be remembered forever. He was a Shield of his friend to the end.

  Stryg knees buckled under him, he fell to the ground and clutched his chest tight. He clenched his eyes closed and tried to muffle his cries.

  Gian stood over him and said not a word. He simply stood next to the boy in solidarity. The boy’s shoulders shook with every breath, he cried and cried, until his eyes were puffy and his voice was hoarse. After what seemed an eternity, Stryg slowly staggered to his feet.

  “...Thank you,” he mumbled.

  “It was my honor,” Gian bowed his head. “If you’d like, I can arrange for you to come visit again next week.”

  “No,” Stryg shook his head. He glanced at the gravestone, “I don’t plan on coming back here, not until I have avenged him. I made a promise. I won’t stop until there isn’t a single one of those Cairn bastards left.”

  “That task may be more difficult than you think,” Gian said softly.

  “For Clypeus’ sake? I don’t care how difficult it’d be, I’ll burn down all of Dusk Valley if I have to,” he said angrily.

  Gian looked up at the dark sky and sighed, “...Have you ever heard the story of Veres I?”

  Stryg nodded with uncertainty, “I saw the play, The Unfaltering Shield, back in Mellow Bloom.”

  “Then you know what happened to Gale I?”

  “She died saving Veres I?”

  “From his enemies, yes. And Veres I swore revenge for Gale’s death.”

  “He defeated his enemies and helped the ebon lord, Koval, unite the Ebon Realm, right?”

  Gian chuckled bitterly, “Right… The first and only unification of the entire Ebon Realm to have existed. You see, that’s what everyone always talks about, how Lord Koval united the Realm, even if that unification crumbled apart after his death. No one really talks about what happened for Koval to reach that point.”

  Stryg wrinkled his brow in confusion, “What do you mean?”

  “Koval wouldn’t have been able to unify the Realm if it wasn’t for Veres I’s help. You see, Veres was distraught, so broken from Gale’s death that he scoured the land, not just of his enemies, but everyone who stood in his path… The countless bodies his army cut down soaked the Ebon Realm in so much blood, it allowed Koval to achieve his so-called ‘unification.’ Veres I was consumed by his anger and pain until his last breath and the entire Realm paid for it.

  “Koval said it was all worth it, for the sake of peace.” Gian opened his arms wide and pointed at the gravestones, “Look around you. Do you see peace?”

  Stryg bit his lip and glanced at Cly’s grave, “What are you saying? That I shouldn’t seek revenge for what happened to Cly? That the Cairn deserves to live!?”

  “I’m saying I understand your pain, but please listen to me when I say, don’t let your pain consume you. Don’t let your anger hold the innocent people of this realm hostage. You are more than your scars, Stryg. Remember that.”

  Stryg laughed ruefully, “I am only here because of my scars. Where were all the innocent people of the Realm when Lunis burned to the ground?! Where were they when I was dragged across Dusk Valley and brought to Hollow Shade to be sold as a slave!? There are no innocents, only people who would rather turn a blind eye and protect themselves.”

  “You’re wrong,” Gian whispered.

  Stryg straightened his jacket and wiped his tears, “Don’t worry, I don’t plan on killing them all like some bloodthirsty monster. I won’t lose myself like Veres I. I have people who rely on me, I won’t let them down.”

  “Then what will you do? When you finally achieve the power you so desperately seek?”

  “I’ll change this Realm so that it can never hurt my tribe again.”

  Hurt your tribe or hurt you? Gian thought. “...No matter the costs?”

  “Why do you look so worried? I’m not planning on starting a whole blown-out war.” Stryg shook his head, “It’s not like I’m Veres I or even a Veres at that.”

  Gian forced himself to smile, “Yes, of course… My mistake.”