Scene Five: The Timeless One
...Of Act Three: Trickster
In the eyes of Ryoku Dragontalen, we are in
Gaevrel, in the world of Lysvid.
It is late afternoon
On November 7th, 2017.
I dreamt of waking several times. Often it was blurry and confused, or waking before some kingly man who served to heal my wounds. Each time, my friends weren't there. I would look around at all the unfamiliar faces, seeking out the fire of Sira's red hair or Will's easy smile. I saw people I recognized, but never them. The people around me still loved me, and promised that I would never be hurt if I stayed with them. There was no Will, Sira, Lusari, or Loki though. Not even Katiel, Anna, or Dawn – so I couldn't agree.
When I finally woke to Will's worried, sky-colored eyes, I meant to sigh in relief. Instead, I shot up in a bout of pain when the draw of breath pierced my lungs.
"Easy, Ryoku," Will told me calmly, easing me back to the ground. I felt a soft blanket beneath me, but the ground below was hard and cold. "Your injuries are not entirely gone. The Timeless One has seen to you, but your injuries require further healing now that you are awake. You… are awake, yes?"
I didn't register his words for a moment, occupied by realizing my surroundings. We sat in a cellar with the iron gate ajar. A shade-covered bucket sat in the corner. I only wore my pants and the bandages spanning my chest, where I could feel the lingering pain of my wounds. However, blood hadn't soaked through them yet.
Will was dressed oddly, too. He wore an all-black outfit of a tunic with pants and long sleeves. His lance and gladius were gone, his bag elsewhere. A jagged cut on his cheek was beginning to heal. Just how long had I been out?
Will nudged me, so I replied. "Yeah, I'm here," I replied weakly. "Where are we? What is this cellar? What happened after...?"
"Perhaps one question at a time, my friend?" He offered me a small smile. "I apologize for your lodgings, as likely the master of the castle will as well. Your injuries nearly resulted in your progression into Lycanthropy. The chamber was a precaution in case you did manage to turn. Luckily, that particular toxin seems to be out of your system."
A chill ran down my spine. As much as I felt for the werewolves of Lysvid, I didn't particularly plan to join them. "And I suppose werewolves don't get waterbeds," I said sourly.
Will tilted his head, and I realized he might not even know what a waterbed was. He handed me a change of clothes. I changed behind Will as I asked him questions about the place. "Who is the Timeless One?" I asked. "How did we get here? Is everyone else safe?"
He wouldn't answer. "You will meet him momentarily," he assured me. "And everyone is fine. You will surely hear the tale soon."
I grunted my annoyance, but I finished changing and Will helped me stand. For a moment, looking at Will with his hand outstretched, I recalled the more cheerful Will I'd met in Harohto. Here in the vampire world, Will seemed to react badly to the dark atmosphere and lack of sun. His skin almost looked sickly, and I wondered if he was all too well. I wondered how well the soldier could handle hostility from each passerby, as seemed the norm for a human in Lysvid.
The moment passed once I got to my feet, for my stomach lurched dangerously and I retreated to the pail in the corner to vomit bile. Will waited patiently until I felt better enough to walk, and he closed the cellar door behind us
"You look like shit."
Her voice was unmistakable. Sure enough, Sira was leaning against the wall just out of sight. If we'd spoken a word about her, she would have heard it. I grimaced at her, stumbling along behind Will, and her eyes softened a little. She'd changed a little since we met, I realized. She was kind, even though she liked to hide it – from helping a stranger get through two days of forest, to waiting outside the cellar door of the same boy. Was I growing on her, like she was for me?
"Thanks," I replied with a healthy dose of sarcasm. She responded well to sarcasm.
Sira also wore the same style of tunic as Will, and it fit her curves nicely. As she unfurled her crossed arms, I caught her wince. She had difficulty moving her right shoulder. Almost forgetting my own injuries, I stepped toward her. She flinched for a second, like a dog hit in the same fashion before. The movement from her surprised me, and I stopped in my tracks, swaying in place.
"My arm?" she asked dully, though her eyes kept shields over them. "Minor skirmish involved in getting you here. No big deal, really, but we sorta got our asses handed to us. Nothing compared to you, though." She brightened a little when she saw my expression. "Don't worry about it. We're all fine, and you will be before long. So stop giving me that dumb look."
I screwed up my face. When I stumbled again, Sira put her arm around my shoulder. She was taller than me, and such a notion seemed odd from her. "Come on, now," she murmured. "The old bat who lives here says you need to be awake for the last step. If you fall down and crack your skull open, then you might end up a brain-damaged werewolf. A regular werewolf, I could handle."
I thought I caught the hint of flirting behind her tone. Looking up at her, she didn't give it away at all. So far, she kept flirting to a bare minimum with me.
"Our disguises fell through, by the way," Will commented as we started walking. He kept close, too, in case Sira got mad at me and decided to drop me. "As soon as Rex got you here, the Timeless One knew your name. Not only that, but all of ours, too. Loki probably served no help in that category."
"That includes Cleria, too," Sira added, with a definite note of distaste. "She's here. She claims our disguises never fooled her for a second."
I laughed, easily picturing how Cleria might react to such a thing, but the act of laughing made me almost double over in pain. Sira's arm tightened around my shoulders, and I practically fell into her. "Be careful," she muttered, and, to my shock, I felt a quick brush of her lips against my temple. It must have taken her considerable effort to stoop down, so I didn't immediately think it was an accident. I tried to meet her gaze, but she returned her fiery eyes ahead like death itself awaited us. Will, on the other hand, flashed me a grin like he just found his Christmas presents early.
We ascended a flight of stairs. Both Will and Sira had to help me climb them due to my chest. At a second flight, Sira lifted me up onto her back and ascended the steps two at a time, muttering about how slow an injured person could be. I only smiled.
At the end of the steps awaited a set of large oaken doors, big enough that Sira and Will could stand on each other's shoulders and still enter the room without stooping. Looking at us, Will jogged ahead to push on the great doors. A pair of vampires in black tunics appeared to help Will open the great doors, revealing a rectangular room ahead of us.
Torches lined nearly every crook in the wall of this chamber. I thought there was no ceiling above us, but I dimly noted the reflection of torchlight on what seemed to be a large glass dome sheltering us. The sky beyond showed the red and blue moons beginning to set on either side of the horizon. Nightfall.
A large, rectangular table split the room in half. Many vampires sat here, their pale skins and black clothes like a scene from an old movie. I spotted Loki's golden hair near the head of the table easily. He, too, dressed in the traditional black tunic of the castle. He was with Lusari, Rex, and Cleria, and chatted with an unfamiliar vampire with spectacles. The bespectacled one was the only vampire in the room who wore anything but the standard tunic – he wore a white coat over it. Of all the vampires in the room I hadn't met, he was the only one who flashed a friendly smile, adjusting his glasses meekly. I noticed that the spot at the end of the table was absent. Was he the Timeless One?
Loki, Lusari, Rex, and Cleria all stood at my arrival. I didn't miss that Lusari still had difficulty rising.
"The old vampire was right," Loki breathed, sounding surprised. "You've woken. At last, my friend. It is good to see you alive and well."
"I'm not so sure about well," Sira remarked icily. "Where the hell is—"
"Welcome, Ryoku Dragontalen!"
A booming voice came from the empty head of the table. I wasn't the only one to jump, which I took some minor satisfaction in. Sira swore, almost letting me fall in her surprise, but Will steadied me.
"Welcome to the Timeless Castle!" the disembodied voice continued. The bespectacled vampire near the head of the table gave me an amused look, but his lips weren't moving. He wasn't the speaker. Some of the booming quality faded, and a voice continued that was much… squeakier. "Here, I am in your care, my friend."
As I stared at the empty spot at the head of the table, confused, a head popped into view. The figure looked old, but with skin papery-white and as smooth looking as velvet. The collar of his own black tunic popped to frame his thin neck, and a wide-rimmed top hat accented the peak of his head, where wispy white hair curled out in short cascades. His eyes appeared white as fog, which left me blinking, stunned, for a long moment.
The bespectacled vampire cleared his throat into the silence. "I believe he meant to say, 'You are in my care here,'" he suggested, adjusting his glasses. The bespectacled one was much younger than the old vampire, his smile brighter. His wavy brown hair was only a little longer than average and well groomed. He smiled politely when he spotted my searching gaze. "Forgive my master, his brain seems a little scattered these days. Such is my main role as his assistant – to correct him where his faulty tongue may get him in trouble. My name is Relus Ashbane. It's a pleasure to finally meet the wakened Ryoku Dragontalen."
"Um, you as well," I replied, a little stunned. "Forgive me, but…"
"How do we know your name?" the Timeless One guessed my question. "How could we not? You are the very visage of Ryoku Dragontalen. The color of your hair is a little odd, but your eyes are unmistakable – you are he, the hero of whom the spirit realm has patiently waited for – nay, the entirety of our realms! But…" his expression fell, and I thought it looked like an extra layer of fog passed over his eyes. "Now is not the time for such bantering. You are injured, and finally conscious. I must see to your wounds properly. Come here, child."
I gave Sira a wary look. She only shook her head in a slight way, and she and Will led me forward. I felt horribly uneasy. Nothing about the little vampire was remotely unfriendly – on the contrary, he seemed quite friendly – but the scenario made my stomach lurch. What was he talking about?
"There are plenty of matters to discuss with you at length once you are healed," the vampire told me placidly. "Simply put, this must come first. Um, you, with the hair like fire. Would you kindly remove his bandages?"
Sira glowered at him. "Why me?" she muttered, but she obeyed nonetheless.
"Now, I hear you are searching for a young man," he told me as Sira finished unravelling the bandages around my chest. I tried not to stare at the wound I could feel there, raw from the removal of bandages being stuck to it, but it didn't seem to bleed. He studied the wound intently – at least, due to his apparent lack of pupils, I felt like he was. "Chris Olestine is his name, correct?"
Surprised, I nodded. I supposed that any of my friends could've mentioned the name.
"I'm afraid I don't know his location, to be exact," the Timeless One said gravely. When my expression fell, he gave me a small smile. "However, I'm sure you know where to start looking."
"Orden," I replied, maybe a little too quickly. Why was I so able to trust this little old vampire? Despite his short stature and comically squeaky voice, there was a certain look to his eyes that kept me rapt with attention – a timeless quality. Perhaps his title was more than a simple moniker.
"Correct," he announced. He leapt from his tall chair and directly onto the table, where he could better place his hand on my wounded chest. Only Relus Ashbane didn't appear surprised by this move, but rather politely tolerant. Even standing upon the table, he was hardly taller than any of those currently seated. With the hand not placed on my chest, he relied on the support of a thick black wood staff, about the size of an average shortsword. "Orden is quite a dangerous place, and renowned for that fact. They're hardly quiet about their distaste for you, my dear boy. Bounties spread far and wide, their name proudly plastered over it all… I have been to this place many times in my long life. Were I wiser and braver in my youth, I suppose I could have prevented some of their current corruption. As they say, life's tragedy is that we get old too late, and wise too soon."
Like clockwork, Relus cleared his throat. "I believe you meant, 'we get old too soon, and wise too late,' sir," Relus said without a note of exhaustion in his voice. To my friends, under his breath, he added, "I do despise when we have rare guests. My master gets so frazzled at dealing with newcomers."
Rather than anything else, the Timeless One raised a single, gnarled finger from the grip of his staff. "Don't listen to him," he said directly to me. "I am no master, as they are not my slaves. Rex, Cleria, Relus. Every vampire in this room is under my study, and another you may soon meet. They are lost souls, ones who needed a firm hand. They are my apprentices, no more." He smiled in a certain way that felt familiar. "Either way, enough about me. Yes, Orden is a dark and terrible place – it's no small wonder they placed a bounty on your head! But why, that is the true question."
An abrupt movement occurred beside me. Without so much as a glance, Sira tore her arm from my grip and marched off, headed to one of the doors behind where the Timeless One's chair was. The door nearly broke off the hinges with the force she slammed it with, leaving the rest of us in a silent room.
"Oh my," the Timeless One murmured. "I must have offended her. My apologies."
I stared after the door she disappeared through, and the Timeless One's hand pulsated in an odd way. He glanced down, his papery brows raised in alarm. "Oh dear – what a significant response! I do hope you understand, I felt that through your chest. Why, it's enough to interrupt my magic! Surely a deep and powerful caring for the young woman!"
I barely heard him. Somehow, I felt I understood Sira in a way that I couldn't relay to the others. She came from a place twisted and defiled by corruption. Perhaps hearing about her home pushed her off the edge. Even if it was a dark place, she must have family and friends there nonchalantly clumped with the terrible things we said. Kioru was from there, of course, and Chris Olestine might be. Could a whole world be called evil?
"You must go speak with her, my boy," the Timeless One reassured me, removing his hand from my chest. "I sense you understand the darkness within your friend." His eyes got a distant, cloudy look in them. "Perhaps in another life, the two of you could have made dutiful apprentices of mine..."
"Yes, do go speak with her," Loki agreed, though his words weren't as kind. If I didn't know better, he may have been speaking with distaste. He rose and put a hand on the Timeless One's small shoulder. "Perhaps we could have a word as well? Something may have just arisen which we should discuss, as colleagues."
I watched him with suspicion. First he didn't trust the Timeless One, and now he called him a colleague?
"Your wound won't open until I see to it again," the Timeless One assured me, "unless you land yourself in some impressive fight in the next room."
I smirked. "That's not entirely unlikely," I murmured. I rose to my feet without help now and slid away from Will – the soldier gave me an approving nod, like I went with his blessing. I supposed I was the best choice to talk to her even if I didn't fully understand why she stormed off. Will and Sira had an odd friendship, but I wondered just how much of her the friendly soldier understood. Loki didn't seem to like her, and Lusari gazed on with impassive eyes. Sighing to nobody in particular, I excused myself and headed for the door Sira left through.
I found myself entering what looked like an abandoned kitchen. Everything seemed caked in dust, cleared only in a certain radius around the door. Ancient-looking kitchen equipment, even by spiritual standards, littered the kitchen. I spotted an old range with elements that looked unperturbed for decades. A large cleaver and a row of sharp knives caught the dim torchlight reflected from the room behind me, until I closed the door.
I saw her. Sira stood at the far end of the room, facing the wall, her hands balled into tight fists. Was I really going to try to talk to her now?
I summoned any ounces of courage left in my chest, and approached. She didn't seem to hear me until I stood close to her.
"Sira?" I asked softly.
She didn't move for a moment. Then, "I thought you'd follow me." Her voice sounded hollow.
I considered my words carefully before I spoke. After all, with all the gleaming knives around the room, it would be awfully easy to make Ryoku stir-fry in here.
"I was worried about you."
She scoffed, making me flinch. "Why the hell should you be worried about be?" Before I could reply, she laughed softly to herself. "Although I guess that would be a turn of events. You worrying about me for once. Not me worrying about your dumb ass."
I scowled at her even though she wasn't looking. "I worry about you plenty," I insisted. "When we fought the raiders, those stupid thugs in the capital, the Warg, all those wolves… Sira, you charge in without thinking. It'd be so easy to get hurt. I've seen it happen. That's why I have to get stronger."
Sira chuckled again – I thought she sounded less cynical than usual, but that might be the tone leading up to Ryoku stir-fry. "You know you've gotten hurt like every single one of those times, right?" she remarked dryly. Then she hesitated, her fingers twitching. "Hey, you've lost somebody that way, haven't you? Just to something simple."
I could only manage a nod. I didn't even think about that she faced the other way, but my silence seemed to speak for me. "I'm made of stronger stuff than most people. Either way, I think you've got the wrong idea."
I took her words out of context for a moment, and felt oddly stung. "What, uh, what do you mean?"
She snorted. "I'm your Guardian, dumbass. I'm supposed to be protecting you."
I laughed softly, which she seemed to notice as her head rose slightly. "That's not how I see it," I murmured. "Besides, I don't even really know why you decided to protect me. You or Will. Or Loki." I frowned. "Anyone, really. I just came here to save my sister through Chris Olestine. Why do you think I'll actually accomplish anything else? Me – Ryoku Dragontalen, the boy knocked out before we even got into the wolf settlement. Who can't use a sword."
She stiffened. I froze, hoping I hadn't struck some kind of nerve.
"You don't think you're anything special, do you?" she asked softly. Finally, slowly, she turned around. I had to prevent my jaw from dropping – tears streaked down her cheeks, cutting paths through her light makeup, dripping silently from her smouldering eyes.
"You think I left because of that remark about Orden? You think I actually care about that place? Not a chance. I hate Orden. I hate it more than anything in this world. Yet, I said I'd go there. I'll go there for your stupid ass, Ryoku Dragontalen. I spent the last three days literally carting your ass from Gaevrel all the way to this stupid castle. I didn't even realize it took that long, honestly. Your wounds kept reopening. You remember what your dumb ass did in Gaevrel? You probably don't remember, cause your stupid wounds reopened and you almost got yourself killed!
"Then I had to fucking give you up." Her voice broke as she spoke. I almost empathized with her, except she was talking about me and I couldn't remember it. "Your wounds reopened in Xactyr. A city chock-full of these creepy bloodsuckers that turned on us like a fucking gourmet unveiled in the streets! I had to hand you off to Rex to get you out of there. Luckily, Cleria, that glasses guy, and some of the old bat's assistants came to help us out, or we'd be bloodbags by now.
"And then, you know what?" She didn't pause long enough for me to guess. "I didn't get to fucking see you. After fighting our way to this castle, we couldn't even get to you. That old bat practically quarantined you as soon as you set foot in here! Locked you up in the dungeons. Only stupid Will got to see you after two full days. I sat outside that little dungeon. I slept there! Nobody told me a damned thing, not even Will. For all I knew, you were dead."
When she could find no more words to speak, she lunged forward and into my arms. I felt ridiculous, and stupid, and blown away, and horribly guilty. It was just her and I, alone in this dusty old kitchen. Her fingers clutched my back so tightly that I feared she'd tear through my clothes, but even that seemed like a minor affair in the back of my mind.
Slowly, gently, I returned her embrace. I felt like she might act like a rabid dog and bite my hands off if I touched her, but she let me. She felt horribly warm, like the fire I always associated her with. She smelled awfully sweet, like some spicy mix of flowers and heat. I realized it was familiar, as I'd always been around her and just put the facts in the back of my mind. Her hands felt like warmth from open flames grasping at me through a wintry breeze, seeking to cast its warmth upon me.
When her lips met mine in the darkness, they tasted just as rosy and familiar as though I revisited an old memory. In another time, I might have laughed at how soft her lips were for such a fiery girl. In another light, it didn't surprise me. I already guessed at how soft her lips were. I had imagined them once or twice against mine, and against my skin.
Our hands traced down the length of our bodies until they met at our fingertips. Then she took my hands, her nails biting into the backs of my hands, and I didn't notice as I fell to the kiss like foliage before the flame.
It felt as purposeful and divine as each lick of a flame's tongue, but she was the tongue of the flame. Her hands caressed my skin, exploring like fire consuming me from head to toe. Her hands found my belt, and mine slid her shirt over her head, my fingers brushing along her skin. We found the counter in the darkness and I somehow pushed her down onto it, sliding her underwear down her long, slender legs.
She let me move her, caress her, kiss her, and touch her in every possible way, pushing aside kitchen supplies and whatnot to clear the way. Even then, her skilled hands pulled away my clothing until I was atop her. Our lips only parted from one another to kiss each other in different places. Her tongue slid across my neck, inciting a surprised moan from me, and I ran my tongue between her legs. She whispered sweet nothings to me, things I never thought I'd hear her say. She wanted me in all the ways I wanted her. We became the only essences in the room – the forest and the fire, meeting in a way that shouldn't have been possible. I found my way inside of her as she let me into her warmth, her crimson eyes glowing like the hearth of a fire.
A sharp rap broke the moment. Sira and I sat bolt upright, our combined gazes turning to the door.
"You're taking an awfully long time in there," Loki's voice wavered through the previous passionate silence. "Do you need help?"
Sira muttered a curse nothing like the sweet things she'd been saying. "One step closer and I'll kill you!" she shouted back. The following silence suggested her method was effective. Then we were clambering to our feet, rummaging around in the darkness for our tossed clothing.
We had only assembled our underclothes when Sira drew me back to her with a gentle hand below the belt. "You tell anyone what happened here, and I'll kill you, too," she muttered, but she spoke playfully. "That damned Syaoto boy-scout is going to have a field day, and by the Creator, if Loki founds out—"
I stole the moment to slide in and kiss her on the lips. The movement surprised her and caused a flirtatious smile. "Screw you," she murmured, and drew me back in for another kiss before we found the rest of our clothes. It was a process, since it seemed we found a lot of difficulty keeping our hands to ourselves.
My mind felt foggy and distant, like I was watching someone else's life unfold. My hands felt drawn to Sira, and my lips kept seeking that intoxicating warmth of her kiss. I felt happy – but I wasn't going to let her know that just yet.
...End of Act Three.