Soldiers raged on, their teeth bared, their swords dripping of blood.
Standing over a pillar of cadavers clothed in blood was the Dark Knight. The wind swept over his long curls, blowing the stench of death up his nostrils and he inhaled softly. He looked up to the blood-red sky, a grin flashing on his lips. He and his army had won.
"Not yet! You savage creature!" A man cried out as he struggled to his feet with his sword in hand.
Damian whipped around to find Van Helsing heaving for air. "Ah he still lives."
"Of course. You can never defeat the might of Canterbury!" Van Helsing screamed only but it echoed in the waste land.
"You don't have soldiers to fight alongside you, Helsing!" Damian approached the man with slow, graceful steps, his sword grazing the hard earth.
"I might not have soldiers to fight alongside me but I won't lose to a vampire!" Helsing yelled as loud as he could and began to run.
His sword clanged Damian's, creating a spark.
"Yield, creature!" Helsing said through the biting chilly air that brushed past them.
"Never!" Damian gave the man a shove and he fell backwards.
The chill air blew gently at first but only this time it became more violent.
Helsing's eyes widened in shock and his pupils dilated. He knew who was coming. "You - You - You brought him here!"
"Why wouldn't I? He is lord of De Caspia," Damian went down on one knee and shut his eyes. "You might want to close your eyes."
He looked down at the ground, hearing slow footsteps approach echoing with the wind it carried. It swept everything in its path, screams like an orchestra resounding with its step. Damian felt goosebumps riddle his right arm within his armor but he ignored it. The Dracula was here.
"Damian," he felt a hand on his hair. "You kept him alive."
Damian smiled and stood to his feet. "As a price for you, father."
"Hmmm, scrumptious, isn't he?" Fieren smiled.
Helsing shook his head, tears rolling down his cheeks in torrents. "No! No! You're the Devil! You're the Devil!"
"No," Fieren stretched his hands and claws protruded from his fingers. In a wisp of ethereal red aura flashing about him, black scales appeared on his face. His eyes were the colors of midnight and his hair danced behind him in the wind.
"The devil is a far more beautiful creature than I am, Sir Helsing," Fieren looked at his fingers. "I am only the wielder of Dracula's power. You see, every vampire king inherits power."
Like the sound of ripping material, gigantic black wings spread out of Fieren's back and he smiled. "I have won the war, Van Helsing. What do you say to Canterbury?"
"I will never yield!" Van Helsing shot back.
"Very well!" Fieren laughed and said to Damian. "You can turn around, Damian. I believe this part should be rated 18."
Damian turned around obediently and shut his eyes, blocking out the screams that followed.
A few minutes later, he received a pat on the shoulder. "I'm done. Bury him in the finest coffins in all the lands and send him back to the Duke of Canterbury. It's the least I could do."
Damian nodded quietly. "Yes, Dracula."
"How is my little brother doing?" A woman approached, dragging a body behind her.
"I'm not your brother, Nelia" Damian retorted sharply and went towards Van Helsing.
"You always do this. Why? You can't be hostile to your own blood. I helped you with this army and not a single thank you has been said to me. I killed the last Dracula and passed the throne to you but you'd rather pass it to the very man you sire and pose like his son!" Nelia thundered.
"Shouldn't you be signing books for old women and children?" Damian grunted softly as he lifted Helsing's body.
Nelia scoffed and turned aloof while Fieren chuckled.
"Don't mind him, my love. He's always like this." Fieren cupped Nelia's cheek.
"Well, I don't care," Nelia put her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. "You are king material unlike some people."
Damian rolled his eyes when he heard kissing sounds. He felt a ray of sunshine penetrate his skin. It was morning again.
"Sir Damian!" someone called for him.
He looked around. Nelia and Fieren were gone.
"Sir Damian!" The call came again but no one was there.
"Damian!" A hand shook him and he threw his eyes open.
"Are you alright?" Braelyn asked with worry etched on her face.
"Yes. I'm fine." Damian replied in a brisk tone, turning the other way.
"You were having a nightmare." Braelyn persisted.
"I want to be left alone," Damian replied, looking ahead. It was only a few minutes till dawn.
"That's what my father says when he's angry but my mother doesn't leave him. She stays with him till he calms down. I believe all men want to be pampered like that. Don't you?" Braelyn said with a smile.
"No!" Damian replied immediately.
"Oh," Braelyn chuckled nervously. "Sure."
Silence passed between them.
"Aren't you supposed to be inside? It's cold." Damian turned to look at her.
"I should but I'm curious. Who are you?" she asked with a whisper. "You have red dashing eyes. Something I've never seen before."
"Everyone has red eyes." Damian replied nonchalantly, wanting to be left alone but the girl wasn't reading the room. He suddenly wished Bat was there with him. He would've shooed the girl away.
"Nah," Braelyn shook her head. "Nelia Nicklebone said only vampires have red eyes. The rest are counterfeit."
Damian chuckled. "Counterfeit." His sister does have a particular sense of humor.
"I read her recent novel - THE RED HAIRED GIRL. In this novel, the female lead meets a vampire whom she falls in love with. She describes the vampire as a man with long dark hair and fiery red eyes. All vampires in her novel have red eyes and Nelia is a vampire too so it adds up." Braelyn said with a smile.
Damian was tired of all her rambling and heaved a tired sigh.
"Braelyn!" Baron called as he walked into the horse shed.
"Father!" Braelyn was startled to her feet. She scratched the back of her neck nervously. "I - I was only trying to invite him for breakfast."
"I know. Go in." Baron said with a smile and Braelyn dashed off into the house.
Baron let out a loud laugh as he walked towards where Damian laid on the floor. "You must consider yourself some lucky man, Damian."
"It's quite the opposite on my part," Damian stood to his feet.
Baron shook his head, still laughing. "My daughter, Braelyn, has been rejecting suitors since she was 12, now, she's 16, she has found a catch."
Damian smiled. "Well, lucky him then."
Baron smiled. "From De Caspia to Drakensberg to Pretoria to Windbroke to Denscara, everyone born of noble blood in these kingdoms has asked for my daughter's hand and she has refused them all. You seem like a good catch, Damian."
"Well, she should throw me back in the ocean. I'm not a catch." Damian bent over to pick the blanket he had laid on.
"It's alright. I am not trying to force you to marry my daughter. Besides, I barely know you." Baron started out of the horse shed with a strong -looking, brown horse.
"We rode the boat. It's kept in a shed not far from here." Baron mounted his horse.
"Alright then." Damian brought out his own horse and mounted it.
"Here. It gets colder up north," Baron threw a heavy cloak to Damian. "I don't know what went through the king's head when he decided to settle here. He didn't even consider the humans living here!"
"Thank you." Damian draped the cloak and threw on the hoodie. It was a perfect fit.
"You sure look good in anything. Are you sure you don't need breakfast? You look pale." Baron pointed out.
"No. I was born with this color." Damian replied.
"Alright then," Baron flapped the reins and the horse moved. Damian did the same.
"It's a shame you didn't get to say goodbye to them," Baron said. "They will all miss you, especially Braelyn."
"Too bad." Damian replied. Now, he wished he bought a map to Clarosha instead. It would've saved him this drama but he was too weak to fly to Clarosha.
They arrived the port in a few minutes.
"Here, we are," Baron announced to Damian. "My boat is here."
Before Damian would dismount, a priest flanked by 2 human soldiers stopped him.
"Pardon us, travelers but we have to search you," The priest said. "We are looking for Damian de Caspian. He committed high treason and has fled the de Caspian castle."
"Damian? King Fieren's son? Well, no one knows who he is. The prince is barely here. Always out there playing Dark Knight," Baron replied nonchalantly. "Well, search me."
The priest turned to Damian, holding up a poster with his face on it. "What about you, young man?"
Damian tightened his hold on the horse's reins not saying a word.
"Take off your hoodie, let me see your face." The priest said, inching closer.