.. The Archipelago…
Located in the deepest parts of the Night Hills, the place is a definition of thick trees, tall and towering. The space dark and haunting. The ground all covered in crawling plants that seemed to writhe and slither in the dark. And finally, the large rock that extended deep into the ground, the entrances into it shrouded and obscured by the crawling plants.
The insides of the rocks was the lair of the ruling vampires in New York city. Chilling stone walls, air damp and dark, the only source of illumination being the handful of lit candles.
The place seemed not to be inhabited as only shadows could be seen. But then a figure appeared, it was moving fast, urgency dripping from its movement.
It moved past a candlelight and then into the shadow of the darkness again. But one would see its' face. It's Bellerin.
Bellerin strode into the central rocky hall.
Caius turned from the wall. "Where is Adrian?"
Bellerin hesitated.
"That will not be good for you kid," Bones-the-old said.
Bellerin with a heavy expression said, "He's with the La venzo's."
"Uh?!, Vinicius!" Bones-the-old's surprise wasn't hidden at all.
"That kid," Caius growled. His eyes flashed viciously as he soliloquized. "What the hell is he thinking? Going to an enemy of our coven."
"He's distraught." Bellerin lowered his head as he spilled.
Caius' eyes flashed up to Bellerin. "What did you say?"
Seeing there's no way back, Bellerin braced himself and lifted his face. Shared pain was visible on it. "He's upset because of the vampire. Kylian."
"Why?"
"The lady he said is his mate that day was the human mate Adrian founded years ago."
Caius' eyes trembled. "What?!"
Bones-the-old shook his head slowly. "We need to calm him down. He might do something regrettable."
Caius was in his thoughts for a while before turning to Bellerin. "Find him and tell him I need him here. Take along some men."
"Yes, leader." Bellerin dropped his head. Several cloaked figures vanished alongside him as he exited the hall.
"What do we do now?" Bones-the-old asked. "Akotal doesn't back down once he sets his eyes on a coven."
"We wait till Adrian comes before making any move."
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Once upon a time.
It was 800 years ago.
Born in times of tremor. His name was Eleodore.
He was a warrior of a small surviving tribe in the Central Asia. War raged in the world as it tried to find balance.
Their tribe migrated to the area and they had so much to face. Bandits ruled the area. Attack today, attack tomorrow.
But they strived. They fought. He and his fellow warriors did their best to fight off any invader. They protected the women and the children.
One day, it was victory. They rejoiced. Bonfires crackled and hollers hovered.
But he was faraway. His mind was.
In his heart, he knew this victory was like defeating a little cub and rejoicing of victory when what's still coming is a fully grown, fierce lion.
He excused himself, and strolled away from the village and towards the pines that was West their village. He preferred to come to this side other than the other sides which are surrounded by gigantic walnut trees.
Reasons? He didn't even know. But perhaps, he had a hidden fondness for pines. But is it the pines?
Ahead of him, he could see a lone olive tree, fully blossomed, staring erect by the entrance into the pine woods. Maybe it's the olive he loved anyway. He watched it grow from his early years tho.
His battle dresses and weapons were still on him. The leather covering his torso, the leather boots, and finally his sword and knife. He never takes them off. He was raised to be battle ready everytime. The orientations paid off.
Here, the noise from the village is indistinct.
The moon was high above. Full and glowing down its silvery rays, amplifying the silver hairs of the young man.
As he moved away from his kinsmen, his heart had no more of fear in it. Nothing could scare him tho. He was a little over ten years old when he single-handed killed a lion with an arrow and an eighteen years old boy when he killed a bear with his sword.
He was brought up as a warrior and survivor.
He stopped by the olive tree that stood alone, a hundred meters from the pines, and settled his butts under it.
His eyes glazed as he gazed up at the full moon. Peace, was all he felt. His live, his tribes' lives was almost devoid of that. Peace is expensive as some say.
But he feels it anytime he gazes up at the moon, from under this olive tree. Absolutely the reason he comes to this place anytime he's free. Something so rare, due to the constant battles his tribe had with the bandits.
As he appraised the moon, a rustle caught his attention.
He moved. His wary eyes flashing around.
Then something appeared to him. It's human. But somehow it's also not human. I mean not completely human.
The creature had claws and fangs. But it's wounded.
He pulled his sword. His heart banging but his face as fierce as that of a lion.
The creature had rushed towards him. He had fought. But he couldn't match the creature. The creature was faster, stronger and fiercer than a lion.
Eleodore had his sword broken into half and his right arm bones shattered within a few seconds of fighting.
He was helpless. He was vulnerable by nature to the creature. He had no leverage. No power to face such creature.
The creature had his neck, bit it and suck blood outta him.
His life force began swishing out, right before him. But he could do nothing.
He couldn't do a thing to avert his dea- wait!
His body was getting weaker as his blood left him, the sparkle of life in his eyes were getting dimmer as seconds passed but then he saw his mark. His chance.
The creature's neck was exposed. He reached for his battle knife and struck. Twisted.
A result came. A good one.
The creature dropped him and fell on its back.
Eleodore gasped for breath. His eyes rolled around like the eyes of an owl held in death's grip.
The clutch was tight. The clutches of death.
But he hung on. He slowly, and staggeringly got to his feets. He reached for his shattered sword and walked towards the creatures.
The creature watched him. It's void black eyes that seemed not to exist gazed at him as he approached with his half broken sword.
It saw what Eleodore was going to do. But it didn't move. It only watched. The claws of its' two hands covered its bleeding neck.
Eleodore saw the blood, it's dark. Dark red.
The creature made to speak, its' bloody claws pointed at Eleodore as it tried to say something but Eleodore silenced it with a clean cut of the neck.
Then he fell on his knees. Weak. Exhausted. And felt somewhat like his life is ending.
Then he blacked out.
Trully, that was how his former life ended.
The next time he woke up was in his mother's tent.
He was okay, at least, fine.
He tried to explain what happened but his fellow men didn't believe him.
He was worried. He was disturbed.
But most of all, he was feeling sour in his throat. Like thirst. He would drink the water of whole village but the thirst wouldn't go.
The thirst persisted not until one day he attacked one of the villagers.
He was bit the woman's neck and drank her blood. The warriors, his fellow warriors tried to stop him but he easily overpowered them. They couldn't stop him too. When they had thought they wouldn't be able to stop their damnation, he fainted by himself.
He woke up later to behold the iron gates of the dungeon that served as the chief's jail.
His mother was there. Weeping and trying to talk the fellow tribesmen into settling this. But they never listened.
He was to be executed.
Three days passed and the execution date came.
He was led out. Chains on his hands and legs and swords on his neck.
His mother cried and cried. She pleaded but no one heard her, no one would.
That was it until one villager said it out loud that his mother must be a monster too and that she should be executed with him.
The response from the crowds was instant as stones flew from all sides and bombarded his mother.
His eyes, previously dull from depression, blazed at this.
He yelled but the executioner paid no attention as he lifted his axe. Then with a roar lowered it heavily.
But something happened.
It was sudden, yet instant.
The executioner's head flew into the air and landed in the midst of the crowds of the villagers, his tribesmen.
They stopped. Terror appearing in their eyes as they gazed at Eleodore slowly rising from his knees, his shackles falling to the ground with a loud thud.
Eleodore ignored them and like a trembling citadel, traipsed to his mother. She was sprawled across the middle of the circle formed by the villagers.
Bloody all over.
He squatted. His eyes welled. He shook his mother but she had given up ghost.
That was all he could remember. The rest was a blurred memory.
Hours later, he woke up in the middle of the night. He was exhausted. And smeared all over with red. He glanced around. Dead bodies of his tribesmen glared back at him.
He was furious. He was confused. He stared at his claws, they were bloody.
He did it. He killed his own village people!!!!
What he has become, he knows not?
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