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Epilogue
I
She rose, not remembering how she came to be in darkness. It smelled wet and like rusted metal. Warmth touched and pricked her skin. Am I floating? She wondered and discovered the answer a second later. Liquid sloped down her dress as she collected her feet beneath her and found ground just below the liquid’s surface. She hated its thick viscosity. Slowly, her eyes adjusted to the black. She turned to the speaker and focused on the silhouette.
“My name is Volcatia Ivmara, Captain of the Lavici’s Guard,” She spoke with authority and defiance, “Who are you.” It was not a question but a demand.
Red burning eyes cut through the silhouette’s night black visage. Silver white fangs and teeth in perfect alignment split its face, revealing an impossibly wide grin. Its outline seemed wholly natural in the dim light and had a woman’s stature but at the same time defied the World’s natural laws with its sheer aura as if something larger sought to stretch the physicality of the sillouette’s outline and was barely contained.
“You are not like the others in Lavici, Volcatia. You are special,” The silhouette spoke without moving its lips and it took a second for Volcatia to realize that its voice was in her head. The silhouette continued, “Unlike the others who have been touched by my children, you will be given a choice. You are special – strong – and not cattle like the masses.”
“Who are you.” Again, a demand.
The silhouette stepped forward and pale grey light emanated from the atmosphere, dispelling the shadows. It was as if the surrounding darkness was lifted from the speaker’s guise by its will alone and with that will the entire all-consuming black was vanquished to reveal the bloody ocean, they stood in. Volcatia was immediately awestruck by both the beauty and demonic horror the female speaker portrayed. The woman’s armour was a glossy jet – almost organic in nature – as if it were made from still wet bone freshly harvested from flesh. Its curves and sharp points made the speaker majestic and cruel – once something godly and divine but now corrupted by a force beyond measure or understanding. Its long feminine face was a sinister skull with sharp cheekbones, slightly elongated to accommodate its slim but impossibly wide grin that stretched to its pointed ears.
“Very special,” The speaker said. Somehow, its grin grew further across its face as it ushered its name into the cold air, “I am Uulia, my daughter.”
“Daughter?” This time, a question.
“Yes,” The grin transformed into a toothy smile that was somehow all the more sinister.
“What are you?”
“I would be considered many things. Some would call me Touched, others corrupt. Myths would label me as a creature of night, a Vampyre, while humankind would know me as a nightmare; the creature that stalks their dreams and those of their children... I am all these things and none of them. They are all ignorant attempts to explain something greater than moral understanding. To you, I am mother.”
“My mother was consumed by fever when I was a child,” Volcatia spat, “You are not her!”
Uulia laughed with genuine mirth and agreed, “No, I am not her. But I am your mother. You will be reborn as my daughter for you are of my blood. I am the Matriarch who conceived your great grandmother when the God’s walked the earth and fought over their petty things. I waged their wars and now I seek my rewards for that service... what I am owed. You were touched by greatest long before your first breath and will be greater still after your last. I gave birth to your line and therefore you are tied to me.”
Uulia freed a curved dagger from her belt and drew it across her hand without registering any pain. Black blood dripped into the red ocean. It seemed to crawl out across the red surface like oil consuming the crimson, or like a spreading plague consuming the living.
“I offer you my kiss, Daughter,” Uulia presented her open palm. “Feed and your fate will be bound to me as one of my Children. Deny the gift I offer and be condemned for being one within my bloodline.”
Volcatia cried out against the black blood as it crawled up her legs and burned her nerves with its icy touch.
“I will protect you from afar my Child,” Uulia said as she offered her palm to Volcatia’s lips, “The one who hunts you will not find your scent until you are long gone from Lavici... If you move quickly. My powers have outgrown his, but I am very far from you... Find and join me in the North. When you wake, make haste. I already feel my lesser children being slaughtered by the Slayer.”
The last thing Volcatia knew was the black liquid’s rancid metallic taste forcing its way down her throat. She felt its power. She felt stronger. She wanted it. Her greedy acceptance warmed the blood as it consumed her.
II
An angry orange flickered outside the window and carbon filled the air. Smoke was beginning to gather around the room’s ceiling. An awestruck Guard stood watching the pandemonium that was consuming the town beyond the viewing portal. Dexsius marched across the room and grabbed the Guard by the shoulder to spin him, so that he could slap the shock from the Guard’s face.
“Sir,” Pescennius said as if dumb with shock, “I think we are being attacked...”
There were twenty-four guards left in the compound by Dexsius’s estimate, but a few weeks ago the number was over one hundred. A few deserters and the vanished patrols had both taken their toll on the Guard’s numbers, but it was that massive creature that utterly destroyed them in the end. Over thirty were killed that night before it was a driven away.
Over thirty...
The Captain, in her weakened state, had said the monster was Lars, but Dexsius could see no possible way that was true. In the end, it did not matter. Whoever or whatever it was, it had doomed them. He could not put down the religious zealots that were beginning to preach their insanity, and he knew it was only a matter of time before they would stir the populous up into some frenzy that he did not have the manpower to contain. Hell, the fires were likely the culmination of that insanity, he thought.
Dexsius pushed Pescennius away from the window. Horror contorted his cragged face as he took Pescennius place and peered outside. He knew eight guards were out on patrol leaving the compound with sixteen souls including himself, Pescennius, and the Captain – who was on death’s door. The numbers left and those who were able bodied enough to fight did not matter. Nor did the fires. None of it did.
Four Demon’s had entered the courtyard and those guard who barred their way lay in pieces across the courtyard. No wonder Pescennius was made stupid, his mind voiced the realization. He was a veteran and had seen death more than most. What these Demon’s did was not death, but utter slaughter.
“Pescennius!” Dexsius roared as he turned away from the window and drew his sword, “We have to get the Captain out now!”
Pescennius wobbled his head up and down and rushed to the bed where Volcatia lay. He slid his hand under her shoulders and was astonished by how cold the Captain was. It was as if she were frozen solid by a winter storm. Gently, he began to free her from the furs and blankets that cocooned her tiny frame. Then, her eyes flashed open, and he screamed in surprise, “Captain!?”
He had no chance to project another word and whatever they would have been gurgled in his throat. Volcatia’s fangs shot out from her gums, and she plunged them deep into his neck with an animalistic fury. Her muscles flexed as she overpowered him with sheer strength, which should have been impossible as Pescennius was twice her size and a third younger in age.
Desperately, Pescennius thrashed as he felt his consciousness slip away with the blood being guzzled from him. Soon, he felt colder than the Captain’s frozen, unbreakable, embrace. His mind fogged and then faded into nothingness. His end was final, the Captain left nothing from him to come back too.
Volcatia freed her fangs slowly, after Pescennius’s body was withered beyond any reasonable measure considering how fast she consumed his essence. Her thirst was not satiated – it could never be – but the edge was gone for now, and she could think beyond her initial bestial instincts when she woke. She took in her surroundings and immediately knew where she was. The blanket fell away from her nude, flawless form as she crossed the room to her armour’s stand. She took a moment to study herself in the nearby mirror and gave a bloody smile. All scars and blemishes – few as they were – were gone. Her features, although corpse pale, were angular and sharp, while all the age was removed from her skin. She took a moment to stare into her sheer black eyes and enjoyed the way that they did not reflect any light. They were a huntress’s eyes and she owned them as if they were born to her.
She pulled away from the mirror. There was no time to dally. The battle in the sewers was nearly over – her mother had told her thus. The True Demon, the Slayer, was gaining the upper hand over the abomination Lars had become. In a way she could feel the distant conflict as if distantly connected to the Ghoul’s that had destroyed Lavici. A gift from her mother’s connection she instinctively knew.
A whimper carried across the room from a voice that was unfamiliar with vocalizing fear, “Captain?”
Still naked, she turned to Dexsius and her almost avian facial features softened. Ever loyal, she thought as she watched the Sergeant back away and stumble over a chair to fall flat on the ground. She crossed the room with grace somewhere between a seductress and a viper. Very slowly, she slid down into a kneel beside Dexsius and licked Pescennius blood from her lips – though it did nothing to clear her cheeks and chin.
“Dexsius,” She said, “I am sure I have you to thank for my survival? You got me away from Lars?”
“I-I,” He stammered.
“Shh,” she said and placed a taloned finger against his lips. “For your loyalty, I will give you a gift of strength beyond anything you know. For your love, I will give you eternal life.”
She did not wait for a reply, he had no choice in the matter. She needed him and his eyes told her that he wanted this, despite the fear that terrorized them.
Faster than any eye could follow she was on him. Her fangs tore into his throat, and she was rewarded with his rich and warm life fluid. She felt him slowly grow limp, not from lacking blood, but from acceptance. It took some effort to pull away but pull away she did. He was on the edge and his glassy eyes told her that he was about to pass out. Her bloody fangs lifted from his throat and travelled to her wrist. There was no pain as she opened her own flesh and allowed her black blood to race from her pulsing veins into the air. She offered her open wrist to Dexisius and smiled with a sinister warmth.
Dexsius was weak but he accepted gladly. With each drop he swallowed, his skin became paler and his eyes blacker as if millions of microscopic spiders spread from the whites to the iris.
III
A figure in black hard-edged armour followed their escape. Its eyes burned with the low light of hot coals and its sword glowed with a dim white brilliance, and its light reflected on water next to the moons. Wet filth covered the black armour but did not take away from the figure’s august visage. Even though a skull-like mask obscured any emotion from its face, one could sense its displeasure as it watched the rats reach the far bank. The figure watched them all until they escaped its vision to the hills and fields beyond. It sheathed its sword and waded into the clean river water, letting the current cleanse the filth that covered it.
Just then, it smelled something faint and snarled its displeasure. A new threat was rising from within the town. It turned to the inferno rising into the sky and knew this was only the beginning...
IV
The deed was done.
The entire populace had been culled, and all evidence would be swept away in the fires that raged without control through the buildings. On a hill, beyond the flames reach and the town’s edge, dark figures gathered – seventeen in total. The fire danced across their sorrow-filled eyes.
At their lead, a Demon – who was not truly so – watched the flames with mournful sky-blue eyes, which was completely at odds with the skull-like face’s rictus grin that covered his face. Of them all, his hurt appeared to be the greatest. After a while, he looked down at the four torn bodies lying neatly at his feet. They wore the same dark armour and their rictus helms no longer seemed to grin, despite being identical to his own.
From the night’s black, another approached. It was the same as the seventeen, yet utterly different. Where a regular man or woman would see all of them as equally demonic, the new arrival was something else entirely and the only one who could truly be described as such – despite being identical in appearance to the rest. The group watched the new arrival with the distrust, not fully knowing what it would do next.
The Demon with the mournful sky-blue eyes spoke, “So... It is done Demon...” The last word was spat with contemptuous venom.
“This is not the end,” The new arrival – the True Demon – said without emotion.
The blue-eyed Demon spat, “We helped you in this, but do not assume anything has changed.”
The True Demon’s eyes flared with orange and red fire, but not from the burning village’s reflection. Its own eyes glowed from the depths of something inside itself. Its voice split as if two people were speaking slightly off sync from the other and it snarled each word, “You are a lesser being, Untouched. Do not begrudge us for what was taken from you and your compatriots.”
“We aren’t like you, you Slayer,” The blue-eyed Demon retorted.
“And are lesser for it,” The True Demon said. “Despite what you mortals think, the magic of the World has not vanished. The Gods’ still hold sway, even in their slumber.”
The blue-eyed Demon took a calming breath and said, “this will go nowhere.”
“We agree.”
“Will you deal with what caused this?”
The True Demon gave a curt nod, “We will.” It turned the way It had come and marched back into the night – vanishing far too quickly into the darkness – as if welcomed by it.
“What did this, Slayer?” The Blue-eyed Demon asked the retreating figure.
The True Demon stopped and replied after a pause, “Leftovers from another time... an abomination.” It melded into the night. “Those who have strayed from the God’s will and thus will be hunted. We vow this and vow to slay them so that they may face their judgement at the God’s feet.”
Aside from the fire’s fury, the night became silent.
A Demon with a slender form stepped away from the group and placed her hand on the Blue-eyed Demon’s arm. “Talinnius...?” She Whispered.
The Demon with blue eyes forced back the stinging tears – he had expressed enough sorrow and was tired from it – but did not pull away from his friend’s touch. Deep in his core, he knew this was only the beginning and the faces of those who now burned – those that he had murdered – in the town below stared at him every time he closed his eyes. The little girl and the last man most of all. They stood at the forefront of the crowd watching from the bloody ocean that consumed all souls. He was tired and could not challenge the True Demon; he lacked the will to do so.
The heat from the flames only blended with the mid-summer radiance that refused to yield even with the sun being long departed.
V
If it had a mouth, it would have chittered with joy. If it had a mouth, it would have whispered its prey’s name. It could do neither and so quested slowly – silently – until it was a hand’s breadth from the prey. It felt the man’s sorrow and tasted it like a fine wine.
It had followed the prey for a long time – hiding from the ones who trained him.
It had been patient, like only the best hunters can be.
It ignored its hunger.
It ignored the pain that pulled at it to return beyond the material.
This sorrow was what it needed.
This weakness was all it needed to get in.
To start...
The shadow reached out and took its prey’s ankle. A smile did form on the shadow’s incorporeal form as it felt the figure’s hollow armour welcome it in, like an old long-lost friend. It sank into the metal and began to worm into the man beneath like a parasite, knowing Talinnius would perceive the feeling as if it were little more than an itch.
The shadow reached out and took its prey’s ankle. A smile did form on the shadow’s incorporeal form as it felt the figure’s hollow armour welcome it in, like an old long-lost friend. It sank into the metal and began to worm into the man beneath like a parasite, knowing Talinnius would perceive the feeling as if it were little more than an itch.
VI
A familiar light rose above the horizon, dispelling the dark and gave the blood its crimson hue. It appeared slow moving due to the distance, but as it came closer, it flew with a remarkable pace. The blood was split in its flight’s wake and rippled outwards, disturbing the vast ocean – stretching beyond what his eyes could see – creating a flow where only stillness existed prior. Soon the light would be upon him, and he welcomed it like an old friend. It felt warm.
“Nessia,” He said when it came near enough for his voice to reach it, “My greetings.”
The light stopped with a sudden and powerful thunder. Air gusted forward – blowing away his misted breath – causing the blood to wave up against his shins.
“Achamus,” The Celestial greeted. Its form could be described as female by its chest’s bust and slender hips, despite the flawless almost transparent robes hiding much of its form. Wings of pure illuminous light shone out across the ocean – expelling darkness from the sky like a newborn sun. Its wings folded in after a final beat, and the Celestial landed softly atop the blood as if it were solid dry earth.
“Thank you for what you did,” Achamus said.
The hood covering the darkness where the Celestial’s face should have been, nodded. It asked, “Will he heed your warning?”
“Talinnius will,” Achamus replied, “He will figure out what must be done.”
“It is a shame your kind have been made into those things.”
“They are no longer my kind... not since she freed me and those who have fallen since the final day of the God’s War.”
Again, the Celestial nodded in agreement.
“Does it... the shadow approach Talinnius? Can you tell me?”
“I gave you the chance to warn him. I cannot interfere anymore. I will already pay a high price.”
Achamus sighed. If he had the power, he would prevent Talinnius’s fate and take the burden away onto himself. He would face his own challenge, however.
“Is it time?” he asked.
“It is.”
“Will you be okay, Nessia?”
Nessia gave a smile’s impression, though she had no face to give the gesture form beneath her cowl. “She asked me the same after she freed you by giving you that scar across your face.”
“She has always had a caring soul. Strange that one with so much power could be so.”
Nessia laughed softly, “Her compassion is what gives her, her strength.”
Achamus smiled knowingly, “I knew that. My mind grows foggy in this place.”
“It is the way of the dead, but you’ll be returned near the end.”
Achamus nodded, “Until then...”
Nessia smiling impression vanished, “Until then.”
Light enveloped Achamus and he felt its gentle warmth caress his core. The ocean dropped away but he did not fly. Instead, he fell in Nessia arms into the Beyond’s depths; into the final layer, the final level – just before mortal souls become one with the slumbering and hungry Gods.
I made the first post for this novel on Sept 15th 2020 and started writing this novel long before that on the Aug 13th 2018. Of course that was not consistent and I have written other things in between and many of the words I first wrote when I started hammering out this idea have changed vastly (there were not even Ghoul's at the beginning!), but the first paragraph's of the prologue were written all the way back then... What is interesting about that Aug 13th date is that 11 days from that point I would be in a relationship with the woman who is about to become my wife. I have always had a dream to put my writing into the wild but it was her love and support that pushed me over the cliff. I love you and thank you Shelby - also thank you for only "bugging" me a little while I tried to dig in deep for this project. You are a double edged sword, if I did not have you in my life I am not sure I would have ever done this, but since I started you have been the perfect distraction to not be as dedicated as I would have liked haha. All my trademark bratty-ness aside, thank you my love.
“It is a shame your kind have been made into those things.”
“They are no longer my kind... not since she freed me and those who have fallen since the final day of the God’s War.”
Again, the Celestial nodded in agreement.
“Does it... the shadow approach Talinnius? Can you tell me?”
“I gave you the chance to warn him. I cannot interfere anymore. I will already pay a high price.”
Achamus sighed. If he had the power, he would prevent Talinnius’s fate and take the burden away onto himself. He would face his own challenge, however.
“Is it time?” he asked.
“It is.”
“Will you be okay, Nessia?”
Nessia gave a smile’s impression, though she had no face to give the gesture form beneath her cowl. “She asked me the same after she freed you by giving you that scar across your face.”
“She has always had a caring soul. Strange that one with so much power could be so.”
Nessia laughed softly, “Her compassion is what gives her, her strength.”
Achamus smiled knowingly, “I knew that. My mind grows foggy in this place.”
“It is the way of the dead, but you’ll be returned near the end.”
Achamus nodded, “Until then...”
Nessia smiling impression vanished, “Until then.”
Light enveloped Achamus and he felt its gentle warmth caress his core. The ocean dropped away but he did not fly. Instead, he fell in Nessia arms into the Beyond’s depths; into the final layer, the final level – just before mortal souls become one with the slumbering and hungry Gods.
Afterword
What a ride...I made the first post for this novel on Sept 15th 2020 and started writing this novel long before that on the Aug 13th 2018. Of course that was not consistent and I have written other things in between and many of the words I first wrote when I started hammering out this idea have changed vastly (there were not even Ghoul's at the beginning!), but the first paragraph's of the prologue were written all the way back then... What is interesting about that Aug 13th date is that 11 days from that point I would be in a relationship with the woman who is about to become my wife. I have always had a dream to put my writing into the wild but it was her love and support that pushed me over the cliff. I love you and thank you Shelby - also thank you for only "bugging" me a little while I tried to dig in deep for this project. You are a double edged sword, if I did not have you in my life I am not sure I would have ever done this, but since I started you have been the perfect distraction to not be as dedicated as I would have liked haha. All my trademark bratty-ness aside, thank you my love.
My mom also deserves a big thank you. She struggles with the material written and gave a solid effort to get through it, but she supported me by not questioning my dream and helping me overcome the real world barriers that held back my writing, such as getting me a tablet that could actually open Microsoft Word, unlike my stupid laptop ever other day.
Lastly, Auntie Dadye thank you for being my biggest fan. Your consistent feedback has kept me going until the end... or I guess to get through the beginning (I'll explain that next). I cannot express my thanks and appreciation enough for you following along with this story. I am glad you enjoyed it and for the next one, I will give it all to you in advance unlike everyone else.
My biggest feedback for this project was the release schedule. Every two weeks was a bit long for those who attempted to follow along. Until the last few chapters I am happy I made that consistency though - life got busy with work - it killed me to not be able to maintain that consistency towards the end, but it taught me what I need to do and what goes into an endeavour like this. Although, I have written in a near daily manner for years this project put structure and gave me deadlines to push me harder. I learned a lot in this process and want to refine my workflow to be able to do weekly updates - but those will have to wait for now.
In a few months I am getting married and I cannot wait. What that means for writing is that I am going to look at smaller scale projects. This novel is only part one in a long long series (I have written multiple unreleased novels that take place later in the timeline of this story - so when I get to those, hopefully you'll be picking them up at Chapters or something). This novel is by no means the end as evident by the epilogue. I am so excited to share the next part and at this time it is about a third done in its first draft. That being said, I am getting married and that needs my complete focus.
What does that mean for this blog?
Somewhat business as usual. My posting frequency is going to be on the more random side for a bit (until after I get married) and I am focusing on smaller scale projects. I want to start drawing again and create some supplement materials for the Carthirose Sage, such as: Character pages and artwork, maps, etc. Furthermore, to keep my writing muscles strong, I want to take on some smaller projects like short stories to develop my craft. I will share all of these and hope you find interest in them.
As for part two, you have my word it will be out by no later than the fall of 2022 and the goal is to do weekly posts when it is ready to go. This winter will be busy! Looks like I should stop rambling and get to work...
Also, I need to figure out marketing.
Again, thank you to all those who have followed me this long. You few are what keep me going! And I am not just saying that to be humble.
~Brett
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