Vampire Hunter D: The Exiled
CHAPTER 1
Last Breath of the Dead Forest.
The wind blew gently through charred remnants of what was once a beautiful forest. Black corpses of trees came into view from the early morning fog, reaching upwards to the sky with mangled branches. There were no smoldering embers, as the enemy fires that torched it had died out years ago. Even after so long, there were no hints of budding new life among the burnt earth. The cackled call of a black bird wasn't so much a return of new life, as it was a herald for beasts to descend upon the carrion of what was once the majestic wood. Trapped at a fixed point in time, the beauty of its previous flora or fauna never took root here anymore; It was barren, and forgotten, even to Mother Nature…
The forest had drawn it's last breath nearly a century ago, yet the trails were kept fresh by monsters of the Nobility. Werewolves, Mutants, Stone-men, Basilisks… All of them, drawn to its trauma and sadness. Instinct in their manufactured DNA called out for the aura that permeated the air. Villages had popped up nearby over the years, but no one came within miles of this place. By now, travelers and town folk were ignorant of its origin but remained well aware of the danger. It was enough to allow this hallowed husk of land the dignity of one last secret…
At first, only metal hooves kicking up the soot-covered ground could be heard, before a wash of inky blackness materialized from the dry sienna background. He sat atop his mount as though he had been made for it. His dark coat billowed out in tattered edges along the cyborg horse's flanks. The fabric was clearly over worn and uncared for, yet fitting. A swatch of cloth concealed his features from the eyes down. A thin wide-brimmed hat crowned the black hair that cascaded down his back, covering the sheath of an impressively long sword.
The mechanical steed loyally trudged onward despite the skittering of shadows from the corners of its eyes. As the rider and his mount slipped among the ashen landscape, it was difficult to tell where the shadows of the forest ended and where he began. If anyone were more akin to this place of sadness then surely it would be him; the angel of death himself, the Vampire Hunter known only as D.
He halted his mount when its rhythmic clop changed in tone and began to hit stony pavement instead of blackened earth. It became clear that he was no vagrant wanderer, his purpose was now only a short distance away.
A strange voice broke the silence, "It should be straight ahead. This stone is the flooring of the foyer."
The complexity in the vocal range gave one the impression that it certainly wasn't human. More like an otherworldly creature attempting what it thought a human might sound like, garish and gravel-filled like an old man. A sensitive ear could pinpoint the voice to the black rider's left hand. The cyborg horse obediently trotted forward only to be stopped again by a commanding twist of the reigns.
"What's the matter? We're almost to the catacomb entrance," the graveled voice questioned. He wasn't used to his master hesitating.
"We aren't alone," D responded, his voice deep and flowing out like water.
The path ahead continued at an awkward angle and disappeared into the hazy unknown. The fog made it difficult to see beyond a few feet and rarely lifted here. Even when the sun was at it's zenith, it only served to bathe the landscape in a soured hue of umber like a charcoal drawing on yellowed parchment. He had stopped at the bend however and stared off into a seemingly unsuspicious group of tall weeds. He was sure there was a presence just out of view. It was powerful and old, that much he was certain of.
"This place was once a grand summer palace for the Noble Vidraru. I'm sure there's still some residual essence that draws all sorts of unsavory creatures to it," suggested the voice from his left palm.
D raised his hand to the sky with only a simple command: "Check."
With a reluctant sigh, a great gust of wind shook the withered branches around them into a crackling symphony. Dust and dead leaves kicked up and swirled around as the stagnant air was sucked into D's palm, before falling back down around him and his horse. With the air now thick with dust, the importance of the cloth that covered his face became obvious.
"Hmm, tastes leathery. Must be a fire dragon… nothing you haven't dealt with before, I'm sure," The graveled countenance responded with confidence.
D continued on in silence, kicking the flanks of his horse into the weeds. After some time of rutted ground, an eddied pathway of overgrown thicket thinned out and stretched onward into a huge clearing. Broken stone pillars littered the area, with mounds of black earth gouged up by some angry ancient force. Weeds tried desperately to cover the scars of what must have been a palace of opulent beauty. There had once been fortifications and hidden passageways that had lead here. but now this place stood bare to the elements. In the wake of its siege, everything of value had been pillaged long ago and held no secrets… or so everyone assumed.
D stopped his horse and dismounted. His quiet footsteps made a straight line towards a broken flight of stairs that led down into a darkened underground tomb. Edged in the torn stone, pale sculptures of angels flanked the entrance. Their delicately carved hands covered their faces, as was tradition in Noble homes. Some speculated it was an attempt at shielding the eyes of God from their cruelty to mankind. Nobles were notorious for this kind of hypocritical and conflicting décor, and very few understood why they chose to surround themselves with it. Professors from the capital would relish the opportunity to photograph such beautifully preserved examples.
Now, however, the angels served as the last standing guardians of the entrance to the catacombs. The underground was written to have miles of tunnels that scattered out along the valley to the west, and deep into the frozen impenetrable wastelands of the mountainous north. It was said to have originally served as the resting place of the Noble Vidraru's ancestors, and the prized members of his army who had proven their loyalty in battle.
Corpses with less ceremonial burials littered the catacombs now; grave robbers that ventured in against their better judgment, spurned by rumors of limitless treasure found in the tunnels. Most had been met only with countless booby-traps, or had become lost in its labyrinthine design, only to starved to death or worse yet; became a meal for one of its many still living residents…
The smell of fresh death wafted up from the darkness. most likely the leftovers from the noble-loyal monsters that plagued the underground. Though their masters may have long since abandoned this fallen stronghold, their hunger of human flesh was still very much intact.
Though warned by the local village, the darkness below still served as the hunter's only interest. His pace casually came to a halt when a familiar scent- not coming from the depths below, caught the air in his nose. In a flash, the gentle curve of his sheathed blade lashed out in an arch behind him. His head tilted upward as he took in the size of what had been following him stealthily across the clearing.
"Holy hell, it's a Greater Dragon! What is one doing this far south!?" the graveled voice called out in surprise. The left hand's prediction of a fire dragon's scent in the air was sorely underestimated. Though close cousins, Greater Dragons were almost 6 times the size and highly territorial. Hunted almost to extinction and driven to seek shelter among the mostly uninhabitable mountains, their kind had rarely been seen outside of the high north for thousands of years. How lucky for D.
The massive body of the beast spread upwards across the sunrise as it reared up in a snarling growl. Its agility was cleverly hidden by a massive frame, narrowly missing D's lightening quick sword that would have otherwise splayed open its head in one motion. Piercing emerald green eyes sat atop a narrow maw of razor sharp teeth, that were now fixed to its prey.
The dragon gave a vicious roar as it snapped at him, only to be met with a residual image. He vaulted to the side and slashed at its stiff hide. The curved blade wedged into a thick armored plate, and refused to pull free.
"I'm going to catch hell for making that mistake but hey, you can handle this thing. It's just another big dumb animal, right?" the left hand called out sheepishly.
The hunter was no doubt, not expecting the hide to have quite such resistance. He wouldn't make the same mistake twice however, he would have to work for another chance. D was easily batted away by a flick of the creature's heavy tail, leaving his sword imbedded in its flank. Flung several yards, he took a tumble on the stony ground, before vaulting to his feet in a run. The Hunter could instantly feel the dragon's hot breath at his back as it chased after him. What had once been silent footsteps, now cast aside the element of stealth and thundered across the broken clearing with a barreling delight, much like that of an elephant.
The dragon gave no time between its attacks to offer a window of opportunity, and perpetually kept him on the defensive. He dashed to a chunk of pillared stairs at the edge of the clearing making to the top in only a few steps. The dragon snarled angrily and reared up on its hind legs before crashing the brunt of it's head at the crumbling base pillars, sending the structure down in a cloudy pile of rubble.
It still gave D enough height to jump from, and leapt at the dragon's side, making an attempt to grab his sword. Only his long fingernails grazed the hilt before being snatched backwards. The monster had clamped down on his wind-blown coat, and dragged him back for more than just a mouth full of fabric, but flesh as well.
D twisted gracefully to face his attacker: An expertly flung wooden needle stabbed its gleaming green eye, causing the creature to reel backwards with a bark of pain. Armored plates that even D couldn't slice through was quite the impressive defense, though eyes always proved the Achilles' Heel. The creature wailed and swiped at its eye, trying to scrape out the object with a bulky claw. The distraction served him well, as D dashed across the stony ruins.
The hunter was several yards away before the behemoth turned around with an eye closed. Its jaws were foaming and open, eagerly awaiting fresh blood. A deeper look in the one good eye revealed that the dragon may have taken that last retaliation personally... D's fingers took to the inside of his coat, and held another thin wooden needle at the ready.
"Let me belch some fire his way, that ought to scare him off," suggested the disembodied voice.
But D bided his time, and watched the creature's threatening gestures. It snarled and stomped at the ground towards him, but didn't move any closer. It had seemed hell bent on killing him a moment ago, yet now only kept him at bay.
Perhaps the dragon had a nest that resided down below. He didn't blame the creature for being so fiendishly protective. Just about everything about a dragon was highly valuable. From its egg shell, to its brains, blood, and bone, wealthy merchants and medicine men paid top dollar for the raw material... Nearly hunted to extinction over the centuries, their fearful aggression towards humans had become understandably ingrained into their instincts.
Still, it was an obstacle in the hunter's way and it needed to be dealt with before moving on. He may not have any personal ill will towards it but he had no qualm about killing an endangered creature, maybe even the last of it's kind, to continue his journey.
Just as he began to pull his hand from his coat to summon a fiery storm from his palm, a feminine voice filled the air, "What do you think you're doing?"
The greater dragon's expression seemed to soften slightly as it turned back towards the airy voice. Lumbered footsteps shook the ground as it moved across the clearing and swiveled its head down to a young woman at the entrance to the staircase. During the scuffle with the beast, D hadn't notice her emergence from the catacombs.
The woman touched his scaly head and inspected its closed eye. From the mouth that gave a deafening roar moments earlier, now only a gentle croon could be heard. She spoke in a strange language when she addressed the creature. Soft and earthy, her words stilled the giant as she motherly plucked out the needle from its eye. She petted the scaly trunk of it's snout as it blinked again with cautious ease.
"I believe this is yours."
With a glare, she threw the needle at D's head. It was on a sure course to his left eye, had he not caught it between his fingers and placed it back in his coat pocket. She didn't show any hint that she was impressed.
"Pity, I always believed in an 'eye for an eye…' Come forward, sir. The dragon is still at my hands," she reassured him.
He walked across the stone ruins, only to be stopped by a vicious snarl from the previously docile seeming animal.
"Doco! Ashteru, mein! Behave yourself." The accented words caught the beast's ear, and the dragon stepped back with a defeated growl. The woman walked intentionally without a feminine gait. Her slim body was covered in a grey suit, and draped with a short white capelet that hid much of her upper body. Two sheathed blades crisscrossed at her lower back.
"I don't blame you for attacking him. He is rather…intimidating in his playful moods."
She smiled a sideways smile at the Hunter. He seemed a little worse for wear, despite still standing tall and calm. A tousle with a greater dragon would have easily killed a normal man, so he gained some respect from her for not running like a terrified child at the first opportunity.
"He's your pet?" The slight inflection in D's voice gave away a hint of surprise.
"What an offensive word! Doco is one half of me; my beloved."
She scratched the dragon under his chin. He allowed it, but still kept a focused eye on D. A gentle nudge of her hand, and a few commanding words, steered his thorny head away from the rider in black. She knew well that breaking their sight, broke their train of thought. At her hands the vicious beast was turned into nothing more than a trained dog.
"If only men obeyed so easily," she muttered to herself.
A cackling laughter drew her eyes to D's left hand. It appeared that her hearing was finely tuned. His left hand's voice was usually too low an audible pitch for humans to notice. Her eyes looked him over suspiciously, before drawing her attention to the dragon's side.
"It seems you've all manner of weapons lodged in my friend, sir." Her hand grazed across the flank of the greater dragon, and rolled her fingers around the hilt of the long sword that was still imbedded in its thick armor. With a fierce jerk- unexpected from such a slender hand, the sword was pulled free. "Doco" didn't seem to feel any pain. She slid a gloved hand along the clean fissure of the creature's hide and inspected it closely.
"Impressive strike… You almost hit flesh. How fortunate for you, that it was only scale that was pierced." With a toss, the blade clattered along the stone ground towards his feet. Demonstrating her accuracy with the little wooden needle before, she could have easily skewered him with his own sword, if she wished. A careless throw indicated how she didn't see him as much of a threat, with or without his main weapon.
"And why does that make me fortunate?" D left his sword where it had fallen, not yet letting his guard down to retrieve it. The woman may not have seen much in him to be concerned about, but the feeling was not yet mutual.
Something primal in her eyes flickered as she responded with the same half smile from before, "Because if any real harm had come to him, I would have killed you."
Maybe it was the matter of fact way that she said it, or the dissipation of a killing lust in the air, that cause him to finally bend down and take hold of his long sword. D smoothly returned it to the sheath on his back.
"Smart man... May I have the pleasure of your name?" she asked politely.
The hunter removed the scarf around his face, revealing white-skinned features of breathtaking beauty. Slightly aquiline nose, high set cheekbones…a vision of grace, that caused her heart to sink in her chest. Many had seen his face and instantly succumbed to the quickened pace of fevering desire. For her, it was unwelcome, and she recoiled at the sensation. It made her want to draw the cape around her even tighter, feeling strangely exposed to the piercing nature of his eyes.
"D" he responded simply. "You are Amun Crete; star performer of the Bedlam Outlands Company?"
She tried to speak, but was finding it difficult remembering how to breath. "I-I… suppose that would be me. My, The Vampire Hunter D… how honored am I to be tracked down by the likes of someone so distinguished among his peers?" She replied rhetorically, remembering herself quicker than expected.
"Suppose?" the word caught on his ear, as though he hadn't heard the rest.
"I've just never heard my name with such an official sounding title at the end. I assure you, the Bedlam Outlands would much rather forget I ever existed, let alone lay claim to me in such a… 'professional' manner."
Crete had been a part of the traveling circus act for the last few years. The Bedlam Outlands Company toured around in armored caravans across the frontier sectors, inspiring and frightening patrons of villages and towns with their shocking and death defying feats of courage and beautiful dances. Isolated pockets of human settlements on the frontier were starved for entertainment. Even the slightest theatrical display of tricks and lights were enough to fish the coin from their pockets all too easily. Their show included acrobats, elemental conjuring, a dance troupe of beautiful women, and for the grand finale, the "taming" of a certain ferocious legendary beast.
Many had never seen a greater dragon, since his species was a dying breed. As their image became villains from popular hero tales, and the medicinal quality of their flesh becoming the popular ingredient in hundreds of different potions, mass hunting endangered their numbers into less than 50 in the world. When he roared on que, many people simply fled from their seats, never to even see the rest of the show.
"I've been hired to see the one responsible for the murder of the girl Rei'el, brought to justice. They have asked that I bring you back to give you a fair trial-"
"Humans and fairness; that's rich!" she spat out, sarcastically. "I'm sure their 'fair trial' will include plenty of torture for my confession, so that they may kill me with a clear conscience, correct?"
D stood quiet, and didn't bother finishing his statement. He of all people, knew how hard it was to work alongside humans. Acceptance and fairness rarely descended on those who carried the slanderous label of "Dunpeal," and despite his many contributions, his well known lineage never allowed him a favorable reception anywhere for very long.
One of the performers, a gifted dancer named Rei'el, had been found drained of blood in Crete's barrack, two puncture marks at her neck. Not wanting to deal with the inevitable "witch hunt" that would ensue, she had fled with Doco in the cover of night. Faustino, the Ringmaster and owner of the entertainment company, had wasted no time in hiring D.
For a troupe that traveled like gypsies across the frontier, their habit of collecting stories had ensnared many tales of D's other-worldly skill against the creatures of the night. When one of their own had been taken from them, the choice to carry out their judgment had been obvious.
"I've been asked not to kill you, unless I'm left with no other choice."
Crete gave her sideways smile from earlier and narrowed predatory eyes at D. There was an icy moment of silence before she responded. This time, the air between them had shifted direction into a place far more delicate.
"I am many things…" she raised her arms away from the swords at her back and up to her head; a shallow gesture of surrender that he didn't seem to buy for a moment. "I am an entertainer, and a keeper of rare creatures…" Crete gestured to Doco as she carefully chose her words, almost as well as she chose her footsteps. Closing the distance between herself and the hunter, she locked eyes with him while Doco moved at a safe distance around behind the hunter so that his front and back were watched.
"And yes…I'm also a cold blooded killer." Her hands crept up to the tightly braided pale white hair at her head. She knelt down on her knees before him.
"But one thing I am not, Hunter D…is a liar. Know this: your services do no justice to that girl. In fact, they hinder it. I didn't kill her, but I know who did. She was a message to me, and I plan on answering them, loud and clear."
"I've been paid to find the murderer, and all suspicion points to you. I need evidence to believe you," he said matter-of-factly.
"D, watch your back, the big guy isn't looking too friendly, anymore." the low gravelly voice warned him. Doco was taking a few more careful steps towards his back, lowering his center of gravity in a crouching position. Poised to attack, like before.
Crete quickly reasserted D's attention back on her with a scoffed sneer, "Oh come now, you're a smart man: A talented detective, above the hired thug roughage that make up the hunter class, or so I've heard. Couldn't there be a possibility of a framing? Especially if the suspect was a fugitive of her lesser half's family?"
"No wonder you can walk in the daylight. What house do you hail from?" he asked, in a rather archaic manner. No one spoke that way, anymore. Especially if they grew up around humans, who spoke very direct and to the point. Only Nobles spoke like gentle-winded poetry.
"You know far too much about me already, Hunter D…I'm afraid a lady must retain some secrets of her own." She responded coyly.
He grabbed hold of her arm and yanked her upwards in one easy motion. Chivalry was not his strong suit during interrogations. He had a job to do, and her sarcasm and pathetic attempts at coquettish behavior had reached it's limit. This is what she had been waiting for.
Crete was a lanky waif in comparison to his muscle. It was the underestimation of her strength that gave her such easy opportunities like this. In the blink of an eye she contorted her body around his arm, and delivered nearly a thousand pounds of a kick to his collar bone and solar plexus. She twisted out of his vice-like grip with a swift motion that landed her behind him, destroying muscle and tendons in his arm from the graceful movement.
The figure in white had tangled with the figure in black, and like a dove fleeting from it's own shadow, vaulted on top of Doco's head. She felt the wind of a white tipped arc that slashed at her feet, before the dragon snapped at the hunter, causing him to dodge and retreat. She settled into the nape of his long neck, as he lunged his massive frame on top of the highest point in the clearing: the catacomb stairway. The statue's framework easily cracked from the weight.
"I told you, I'm no liar, Hunter! So at least trust me when I say that if you follow me, you follow your own death!" bitter emotion clung to her words.
Doco unfolded the vein-thin wings at his sides and jumped into a great gust of wind- their orangey hue spread open to the sky, as rider and mount escaped. The staircase collapsed into itself, sealing the only catacomb entrance for miles around. D reached his one good hand into his coat, and out came a quick toss of something wooden and thin, in the direction of the departed company that disappeared as a tiny speck into the monstrous shadow that now eclipsed the sun.
"Think you got her?" asked the gravelly voice, that had kept quiet up until now.
D turned his eyes from the ever decreasing sight of the dragon, and onto his left hand. Grabbing his forearm, and twisting it to look at his palm, he ignored it's question and asked one of his own.
"How bad is the damage?" A tiny face formed out of the skin of his palm. A wrinkly, toothless visage with only molded flaps for eyes, had the distinct look of an old man. Symbiotes like this one were usually just annoying parasites that hindered movement of the limb they attached to, and were dealt with quickly. To keep one around long enough for it to form part of a consciousness was unheard of.
"Hmm.. Looks like she cracked your collar bone, and the tendons and muscles of your elbow are shredded. She did a serious number on you for just being a woman. It's going to take a while to fix with no water around here. I keep telling you, we need to keep more supplies around for this very reason…" It grumbled.
D traveled light, mostly keeping only what he could carry in his pockets. It served his vagrant life well, except in circumstances like this.
"Was she telling the truth?" his tone a little softer this time, seemingly distracted as he looked to the sky.
"She's got a funny way of being truthful, since she was playing possum with that whole surrendering bit," The face snorted bitterly. "She's just giving us more work to do than I'd rather put into this."
"That doesn't answer my question."
The face gave a defeated sigh, its ego completely deflated from the morning's sore miscalculations. "Maybe… That's all I can give you. I wasn't hanging on to her for very long before she tried to take your arm off like an apple stem."
Without responding, D walked back to his horse. The sun would be at its zenith soon, and the wooden needle would surely slow her down enough for him to catch up on horseback. After all, how fast could something so massive fly?