The blond man ran through the red, opulent corridors. He looked anxious and flustered as he raced through. The gold, baroque design on the walls, the ornate lamps burning brightly were nothing but a blur to him. He was gasping as he rushed past suits of expensive knight's armors and expensive paintings. His face was well chiseled with a sharp jaw. His green eyes were unfocused and worried. Finally, he turned into a small entrance hall and faced the huge wooden doors in front of him. He took a second to steady himself, immediately slowing his breathing and adjusting his clothes. Taking a deep breath, he knocked on the door and pushed it open.
It took him less than a millisecond to adjust to the increased brightness in the hall in which he now stood. At the center of it stood a throne-like chair; opulent and lavish. Sitting regally in the throne was a young man. He was dressed in a fancy, dark red robes which accentuated his black eyes and black hair. Beside the throne stood a young woman. She had long, dark purple hair and was wearing a white gown which seemed to have been tailored to her exact elegant figure. The man sitting on the throne had one arm on the armrest and was lazily resting his head on the arm's fist. The woman had her hands behind her back and was worshipingly looking at the red-robed man.
Both the figures in the hall turned to look at the blonde man and he felt a shiver of reverence shoot up his spine. Taking another deep breath, he took a few steps inside the hall and stopped a respectful distance away from the throne. He knelt down to his knees, and looking at the carpeted, black marble tiles, spoke: "Please forgive me for barging in, Lord Valentine, but I'm afraid I have urgent news to deliver."
"That's fine, Crevest. Rise." said the woman who stood beside the throne.
The man stood up and bowed his head to her. "Lady Voidfire."
"What's this news you bring?" asked Lord Valentine.
Crevest fidgeted for a second. Lord Valentine's piercing gazed wasn't making it easy. "Er...I'm...I'm afraid, my Lord, there's been an incident." Valentine sat silently, patiently waiting for Crevest's next words. "The Peace Summit at Led Orein with the Woodland Walkers werewolf pack..."
Valentine straightened up a little. "Yes? What happened?"
"It was a massacre, my Lord." blurted out Crevest. "Everyone killed."
"Everyone...killed?" repeated Valentine. His tone had gone cold, and suddenly the hall felt the most threatening place in Decimandria.
Crevest gulped. "Ye-yes, my Lord. Everyone killed. All the vampires, all the werewolves...everyone."
"That's impossible!" exclaimed Voidfire. "How did you learn of this?"
"When the negotiating party didn't return by morning, I knew something was wrong. I rushed to the summit, but-" started Crevest.
"But you failed to do your task." said Voidfire, the cold anger in her voice apparent. "You had been tasked to stay at a distant as back-up and rush to the summit if negotiations went wrong. You had been placed to protect The Order members."
"Yes, my lady-"
"And you failed." said Voidfire coldly. "And yet you have the gall to show your face to Lord Valentine? You, who couldn't protect his interests?"
"I..."
"You disappoint me." said Voidfire, taking a step down from the throne. "You have let the name of our glorious Overlord be smeared by a lowlife pack of werewolves. You have failed your Master, Crevest, and now you must pay the price with your life."
Crevest immediately got to his knees and bowed his head. "I only ask you forgive this foolish servant of yours, Master. I accept this punishment and know it is not nearly enough for letting your name be slandered." Voidfire took another step down and stretched out her hand a little. There was a purple glow and a long, ornate, staff-like spear appeared in her hand.
Valentine raised a hand, stopping Voidfire dead in her tracks. He turned to the blond vampire. "If anyone's at fault here, Crevest, it's me. I should be the one apologizing."
"My Lord!" exclaimed Voidfire spinning around, utterly shocked. "What're you saying!"
"Yes, it is my fault Sierra." said Valek, reverting back to his original pose. "I underestimated the Woodland Walkers...I should've paid more attention to them."
"But...my Lord!" protested Sierra Voidfire. "It was just some random werewolf pack that we decided to make subservient to us. You can't seriously hold yourself responsible for not devoting your precious time to such a petty matter."
"I am your ruler." said Valek looking up at the woman. Her eyes were dark purple with a metallic violet shade to them. The were looking protestingly at Valek right now, glinting in the light. He continued: "And as such, my attention is required everywhere. I failed to pay more attention to the Woodland Walkers' matter...regardless of how petty the matter in question was...I should've been more informed of the affair."
"But-" started Sierra. Valek raised his hand and she immediately fell silent. He turned to Crevest. "However, now, for killing my people, the Woodland Walkers have my attention..." Valek's eyes shined bright red and Crevest felt a shard of absolute terror pierce his heart. ...and they're not gonna like what happens next."
* * *
"Brother!" bellowed Theraff Longfang. "Brother!" The people in the small village by the forest peaked out of their wooden houses to see what ruckus was about. A few shirtless children stopped their play, skimpily clad women stopped their gossip, and huge, bulky men, stopped their guffawing.
Theraff ignored all of them and walked on toward the biggest house in the area. He was a tall, extremely well-built man. His skin was dark from the sun and his chiseled muscles rippled as he ran.
The door of the biggest house opened, and out walked another shirtless man. He looked extremely similar to Theraff, except he was younger and not as huge despite being well-built. Behind him stood a slim woman holding a four-year old boy in her arms.
"Theraff? What's wrong?" asked the younger brother.
When the younger brother spoke, the entire village bowed their heads. But it wasn't graceful; it looked more animalistic...like a show of submission. Theraff walked up to his brother and did the same. "Alpha." he greeted.
Sheraff Longfang waved his hand in annoyance. "I told you, you don't have to do that, brother. You're-"
"But you're the alpha." interrupted Theraff.
Sheraff looked like he was about to retort, but then stopped himself. "What's wrong? Why're you screaming? And where are othe-" The younger brother looked around and saw that Theraff was alone. "Where are the others that had gone with you?" asked Sheraff, dreading the answer.
"Killed." said Theraff, slumping against wall. "All...of them."
A shock went over the village. "What...what do you mean?" asked Sheraff, his heart beating faster.
"All of them died, Sheraff!" exclaimed Theraff. "I...I didn't go to the summit like you ordered. But...when the sun came up and still none of our pack had returned...I couldn't stop myself. I went up there and...and there they were. All of them dead...slaughtered."
An old man, surprisingly with a body and build bulky enough to put most of the village men to shame, came up. He handed Theraff a gourd of water and turned to Sheraff. "I told you it was a bad idea to deal with those vampires, kid." he said. "Us werewolves and those demons...we don't mix."
Theraff, taking a healthy swig from the gourd, turned to his brother too. "I had a bad feeling about them from the start..." he muttered. "But...when I went up there...there were vampire corpses too. Everyone at the summit had been killed."
"Bah!" said the old man. "I wouldn't put it past those bloodsuckers to kill their own kind. It was a setup...they want to kill us all. We must prepare the village for an attack."
"Attack?" repeated a few villagers. A slow murmur of panic spread across the settlement. A few men got up and shouted for answers, the women called their kids.
"Enough!" screamed Sheraff. His voice was unnaturally loud, and the boom immediately silenced everyone. "Uma, take a scouting pack and reconnoiter the area around the village for any enemies. Women, take the children and stay in your homes for the time-being. Men, gather around my house and wait." As the villagers bustled about, Sheraff looked over all of their heads and spotted the man with the long, white beard. He too was in remarkably good shape for his age. "Old Man Ranfred!" Sheraff called. "I'll want your counsel; come inside my house." He turned to his brother and the other old-man. "Theraff and Levet, both of you inside too. We must talk."
"What happens next?" asked Levet, as he slumped down in one of the comfortable sofa-chairs in the hall.
"Because those bloodsuckers are going to come. They'll want revenge." said Theraff, toying with the knife in his hands.
"Why?" asked Sheraff. "We didn't kill those vampires...we sent our people to the summit just as they requested."
Theraff looked sideways at his brother and held his gaze for a second. "Yeah, but they don't care about all that. They're vampires...our kind and theirs have hated each other since before time began. Now, they have a reason to attack this village."
"Maybe the situation imploded." offered Levet.
"What?"
"Maybe," said Levet leaning forward. "maybe the negotiations went sour. Words turned into insults, insults into threats, threats into assault."
Sheraf leaned back. "I...guess that would make sense. I mean, I only sent the most sensible people from my pack...none that would lose their temper over 'insults'..."
"Maybe it was the vampires then." said Theraff.
"Yeah, maybe it was them...." said Levet. He paused for a long minute, then continued. "Or maybe it was us..."
"Who drew the first blood then, that is the question." said Theraff.
Sheraff sat musing. "I'm not convinced." he announced. "Sounds awfully convenient that all the Summit members killed each other with no one standing at the top. There has to be something or someone else involved."
The group sat in silence for a few minutes pondering the situation. Levet sighed and straightened up. "Regardless of who's fault it was, we have to prepare. Those crazy fuckers could come crashing down the gates any second."
Ranfred brought out a long pipe, took his slow time lighting it, took a few deep puffs, his long beard shaking, then turned to the group. "They're not crazy." he said slowly. "In fact, out of all our supernatural brethren, I'd say they're the most level-headed."
"You're saying they're smarter than us?" asked Levet.
Ranfred took another long puff. "I'm saying they don't lose their temper easily. They're not gonna descend on us just this second."
Sheraff nodded his head. "That's true. They'll see that even our kind was killed at the summit. They-"
"They'd think we killed our own brethren just appear innocent." said Theraff indignantly.
"Just like we thought about them?" asked Ranfred, staring at the canopy.
"I..." Theraff stopped.
Sheraff looked around at his company. "Ranfred's right. It takes a lot for a vampire to lose his temper. And, right now, their Overlord? Valentine? They say he's the most reasonable Vampire-Lord Decimandria has ever seen."
"And the most bloodthirsty." said Levet. "Did you forget what he did to Stormfang? The Massacre of Merlow? And how he single-handedly slaughtered the Tripartite pack of Willowshire?"
"It was the three alphas that attacked him. He went there to make a peace offering, but they thought, with so many numbers on their side and three alphas, they'd be able to win." said Ranfred. His eyes were fazed, as if he was recalling memories. "I still remember him...It was raining that night in the forest. Damp, dark, wet...but he was unaffected by it all. He just stood there as one of the alphas shot a fireball at him that felled trees...he took its full blunt...didn't even scratch him. I still remember how he moved. How effortlessly he killed all of our brethren... Nobody stood a chance against him. With one precise cut, three werewolf heads fell. The forest floor was flooded with supernatural blood...now the entire area's covered in Bloodbloom."
The other three just silently stared at Ranfred. He had never liked speaking of what had happened at Willowshire all those years ago, where'd he'd been sent to talk with the Tripartite Alliance to see if their pack could become a fourth member. That was when Valentine had also approached the three ruling alphas to offer subservience. The alphas had in turn attacked the vampire and he'd killed all of them in response. But Valentine had spared Ranfred's life, because he knew Ranfred belonged to a different pack...and he had been the only one who hadn't attacked him.
Ranfred, his eyes still glazed, continued: "I still remember his words as he towered above me, the entire village burning behind him. 'Tell all of your kind what happened here...tell them all how much blood was run today. Tell them...if they ever even think about hurting my kind...I'll slaughter them all.' "
There was a few seconds of silence as everyone just stared at Ranfred. He took a few puffs from his pipe in silence, stroking his long beard, completely absorbed in his thoughts. After a few moments, the charm broke.
"You're talking like you revere him." said Therraff, shaking his head.
Ranfred, finally looked down and locked Theraff with his gaze."I'm talking like I know what he's capable of. We can't beat him." he said simply. "He's...not like any other vampire we've ever faced...he's their god."
"God? Aren't you stret-" started Levet when the door burst open and young man rushed in. Everybody turned around to stare at the unannounced guest. The man was shirtless, his muscles chiseled, but he was a a lot less bulkier than the rest of his fellow villagers; almost thin. But there was something about him that demanded attention...somehow he was exuding power. The tips of his long hair that fell way below his shoulders were silver, his eyes blue. He looked around anxiously and found Theraff.
"Is it true?" he demanded? "Is it true!?"
Theraff just stared at him, not speaking.
"Theraff!" shouted the young man. "Is it true!?"
"Listen, Luim..." started Theraff consolingly.
The young man's eyes widened in horror. He stared at Theraff for a second, this his face contorted in anger. "How could you have let this happen!" he screamed, lunging at Theraff.
Theraff, almost irritably, caught the young man by the throat and threw him across the hall, slamming his back against the wall. Luim crumpled to the floor, but got up snarling. He whipped his hands and claws came out of his fingers. With an inhuman roar, he rushed at Theraff again.
As Luim was about to reach Theraff, Sheraff stepped in between and grabbed Luim's throat to stop him. Luim looked up at him, snarled, and attempted to slash at the intervening werewolf's throat. Sheraff's eyes glowed bright green and he slammed Luim down on the floor, pinning him.
"That's enough!" Sheraff roared in his werewolf voice.
Luim let out a whine like a dog at being threatened, and his eyes returned to their normal, non-glowing blue. Sheraff held him pinned on the floor for a second more, then loosened his grip and got up.
Luim sat up, took a few deep breaths, and slowly stood up. He looked around at the alpha sternly staring at him and lowered his gaze. "I...I'm sorry." Luim muttered. "I...I just couldn't control myself...It's...Ani...."
Sheraff's expression softened. He walked over to the young man and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Aniki was with the negotiating party at Led Orien, wasn't he?" he asked softly.
A tear formed in Luim's eye and he nodded. Theraff's expression changed into one of pain and he came over to the young man too. "I'm sorry, kid" said Theraff. "I really am. I...couldn't save your brother...I couldn't save any of them. Forgive me."
Luim looked up and shook his head. "It wasn't you who did that massacre...there is nothing to forgive."
"Still-"
"I have to tell mother." interrupted Luim. "And...and Forah and Lorah too...I...I have to take care of them now." He looked up at Sheraff, barely holding back tears, and the alpha nodded. Without a word, Luim rushed out.
The remaining werewolves stood in silence for a few moments. Then Levet let out a long sigh. "Arch Silverbacks...always have problems controlling their emotions."
"It's not his fault." said Theraff, still staring after the long gone figure of Luim. "He lost his father to those bloodsuckers when he was young...too young. The mother was too traumatized to do much after that for a long time. Ani, Luim's older brother, pretty much raised him and his two younger sisters by himself..."
"Aniki was a good kid." said Ranfred. "A good, level head on his shoulders. It's just a damn shame we sent him to the Summit..."
"I sent him there precisely because he was one of the few level-headed people around here." said Sheraff, collapsing back on the sofa. "Plus...he was a powerful lycan...I thought he'd be able to handle himself."
"He really was level-headed...no sense of false pride in him." said Theraff, staring into nothing. "You know, he realized his younger brother, an Arch Silverback, would outclass him soon enough, so instead of trying to inhibit a younger from growing to his full potential, he brought him to me....asked me to train him."
"Well, you two are the only Silverbacks in this pack." said Levet, his voice betraying some pride.
Theraff grinned and shook his head. "I'm just a regular Silverback. I can never hope to become as strong as that kid will grow with time...even more so if he keeps his training going."
"Doesn't matter." said Sheraff, patting his brother on the back. "We're lucky to have an Arch Silverback in our pack at all. And you...the strongest of us all." He smiled proudly.
Theraff grinned and grabbed his younger brother's shoulder. "Don't go all soft on me, Alpha."
Sheraff rolled his eyes. "Oh please, we all know I got the position because you didn't want it and I was second-best."
"No, little brother," grinned Theraff. "You got the position, because all I had was power. You need some brains too to run a pack. I could have never been the alpha you are. You're level-headed, you're smart, you think things through. You've led us to many victories. We've eaten feasts through the harshest of winters, only because of your smartness and ability to plan ahead. Hell, you're the reason we ever considered peace with Vampires."
"And look where that put us." said Sheraff sighing.
"Don't worry, kid." said Levet. "We aren't dead yet. We'll think of a way out."
Night fell quietly over the village. Everyone had been ordered to stay on alert for any prowling vampires, and there had been more werewolves assigned to keep watch. Sheraff didn't want to spread panic just yet, so he'd kept the details on a need-to-know basis. The villagers realized something was wrong, but they didn't know the extent of it.
As Sheraff climbed into bed that night, he tried to calm his mind. There had been no word from the scouting pack he'd sent out earlier, so the vampires had yet to make their move. He rolled over and put an arm around his fast asleep wife. Raising a troublesome child like Feraff was no easy task, and he knew the woman put her heart into it. He smiled and hugged her tighter. If I die tomorrow, I'll be satisfied I had this night with her.
* * *
The next morning, Sheraff woke up before the first rays of dawn and even reached the village. Without waking his family, he silently gathered his clothes and sneaked out of the house. He hadn't been able to sleep much last night, having horrible nightmares about hell; he would be standing in a red river, and everything around him was on fire. And out of the smoke swirling around him, would come the devil himself and ask him if he should end this nightmare.
But soon after he'd woken up, aside from the uneasy feeling he had, he soon forgot about the dream. He quietly opened his main door, and slid outside, while putting on a shirt. He took a deep breath of the thick Decimandrian air, and looked around. Some of the villagers were getting up for the activities, while most still slept.
However, in the front yard of the house adjacent to him, were three werewolves he knew only too well. Theraff stood practicing his martial arts with a wooden pole, waving it around at unnatural speeds, even for werewolves. Levet and Ranfred sat smoking pipes of Fraciria, watching the younger man's skilled display.
Sheraff grinned. Never change, you three. He hopped down his own stairs and walked over to the group. They looked up and waved at him. "Yo, you finally up, young wolf?" asked Levet.
"Seems to be, old man." answered Sheraff.
Theraff smashed one tip of the wooden pole so hard into the ground, it buried itself and stood on it's own. Wiping sweat off with a rag, he turned to his younger brother. "I was up all night...it's quiet. Too quiet."
Sheraff shook his head. "I keep telling you, not to not sleep, brother."
Theraff shrugged his shoulders. "I can go a week without sleep if I have to."
"Doesn't mean you should." said Levet. "We need our strongest wolf to be ready."
"Oh, I'm ready alright, geezer." said Theraff, picking up the pole again with a flourish. "A single day of sleep depravity won't affect my strength. Sheraff has to just point me in the direction of those bloodsuckers, and I'll rip every single one's throat out." Theraff spun the pole around with so much force, Sheraff felt himself slightly unsteady on his feet, simply from the air's force. "And while I'm at it, I'll rip apart their fancy Overlord to bits too." said Theraff, his eyes glowing green.
Ranfred picked up a small pebble and threw it perfectly through Theraff's moves and hit him square on the forehead.
"Hey!" said Theraff. "What was-"
"You've still got a lot to learn, young silver." said Ranfred, taking a long puff of his pipe. "I keep telling you, don't underestimate the Vampire-Lord."
Theraff looked like he was about to respond sarcastically, but he stopped. He took a deep breath and then looked Ranfred straight in the eyes. "I'm not underestimating him." he said seriously. "If you say he's dangerous, then I can only-"
"Alphaaa!" someone screamed suddenly. From simply the terror in the voice, all four men jumped to their feet. Something was horribly wrong. A man came running up, out of breath, his eyes widened in fear and shock.
"What's wrong?" asked Sheraff, hurriedly. "Speak, man."
"Va...va" the man gasped for air. "Vampire! Vampires are here!"
The four men recoiled in shock. "Vampires!?" exclaimed Levet.
"But this is way too soon...." said Theraff. "This way too soon. It's not been one da-"
"It doesn't matter." cut short Sheraff. "Where are they?"
"A little distant away from the village. I was watching the horizon from the walls when I spotted them."
"But...the scouting pack?" asked Ranfred.
"No time!" shouted Sheraff. "Sound the alarm. Wake up all archers we kept on standby and put them up on those walls now!" The man nodded and ran off with blistering speed.
"We have to close the main gates." said Theraff. "It'll take a lot of-"
"We'll focus on the archers first. If we can see them from the walls, I doubt we'll be able to close the gates if they charge." said Ranfred, suddenly an air of urgency around him that was totally different from the calm and slow manner he always had.
"We have to go see this for ourselves!" said Sheraff, running off.
"Wait!" screamed Theraff and ran after him. Levet and Ranfred looked at each other for a split-second, then rushed off.
As the four ran through the village toward the main man gates, a dong started ringing. People were scrambling up from their sleep. Sheraff raced to the gates and skidded to a halt at the wooden gates. The entire village was enclosed in long, thirty foot wooden walls. Their main gate itself was made of two thick oak slabs, which required about five werewolves each to shut.
Sheraff looked at the horizon and spotted the vampires. At first he thought there was just one figure, but quickly realized his mistake. About twenty figures stood in the distance, spaced out by a few hundred feet from each other. Each vampire, a lone figure in the dawning horizon. The pattern continued around the entire village, surrounding it. Clad in traditional Order fashion, they had black overcoats on them with the Order symbol in red on their right shoulders. They just stood there silently, sentiently observing the panic in the settlement.
"Wh...what're they doing?" asked Levet. "They're just...standing there."
"And they've surrounded the entire village." said Theraff, closing his eyes and looking around. "I can sense them all around us now....standing spaced out from each exactly like this."
"That's because they aren't even trying to hide anymore..." muttered Ranfred.
"The Archers are ready!" shouted one of the senior werewolves to Sheraff.
The Alpha looked up at the ledge surrounding the inside of the village walls. Focused all above the main gates stood a large group of werewolves, all bearing bows and arrows. They had all questioned his decision about using traditional weapons when he'd told them to. Werewolves would rather be on the ground, ripping apart their enemies with their fangs. But Sheraff had beaten into them the benefits of fighting smart. Simply with these bows and arrows and Levet's and Ranfred's magic, the village had successfully defended against a rival pack of werewolves and a goblin army without a single loss of life. Everybody had warmed up to the idea after that and Sheraff had become practically worshipped.
Right now though, even Sheraff questioned himself. A chill wind was blowing, swaying the grass underneath the feet of those vampires. Their long black coats blew in the wind, but they stood as still as ever. All the villagers just stood there in silent anxiety...waiting for vampires' move.
Sheraff shook his head. I have to think smart. He turned to Levet. "Seeing as we have the time, let's see if we can't get this gate clos-" His sentence died in his throat. There was movement among the vampires. From beyond the horizon, walking on the path that came into the village, trekked in another group of vampires. But this was a close-knit group. They seemed to be encircling someone. Walking a little further than the sentient vampires, the group stopped. After a moment of pause, the group members filtered out to the side to reveal the person they'd been escorting.
A tall man with sleeked back, jet black hair and equally dark eyes stood there. He wore elegant navy blue robes that came down to his ankles. The collar was high around his neck with an ornate gold pattern on it. The same pattern repeated on the sleeves and on the edges of his robes. Not gaudy, but somehow enhancing the person's aura....or his aura enhanced the clothes...
Behind him stood a woman with flowing dark, purple hair. Her eyes were purple too, although a lighter shade of it. She wore dark purple robes, almost the same color as her hair. It was lightly armored here and there with silver. Her pauldrons, vambraces, and greaves were all made of some shiny silver alloy that had an extremely meticulous baroque design on it. The sheathed sword hanging on her hip carried over the same beautiful design. Stood there in the dawning light, despite the situation, Sheraff had to admire her beauty.
"I...is that him?" stammered Levet. He could faintly sense the amount of magic coming from the blue robed figure and the sheer force of it made his stomach turn. "Is that...V...Valentine?"
"Yes." said Ranfred gravely peering at the figure through his bushy eyebrows.
"For someone as...legendary...as him, he sure brought an anti-climactic escort. Barely a few vampires escorting their Overlord?"
"I'm surprised he brought anyone with him...." said Ranfred, staring at the woman with the purple hair. "He usually travels alone as far as I've heard."
"Yeah." said Sheraff, eyeing the woman too. "She's powerful too...extremely so."
"What in the hell do they want?" asked Theraff hoarsely.