The High Priestess
Kasteel Zwarte Night - 15th Day of the 12th Month of Year 706
Chapter 11
He awoke as the last rays of sunlight in the west were consumed by darkness and took a moment to remember. It had been decades at least since the last time he had walked free but now once again he was capable of this activity. Yesterday he had acted strictly out of instinct, seeking sustenance when finally given the opportunity. He was not even truly conscious of his actions, now simply remembered them as the remainder of a nightmare or something equally shadowy and sinister. But still there were even more questions and needs gnawing at the edges of his mind as he slowly awakened back toward full consciousness.
First of course he realized that he hungered greatly. Thankfully it was not nearly as bad as the continual and eternal starvation he had suffered through for all those years of his imprisonment. Lesser beings of a kind like himself would have willingly gone into eternal death with such a lack of food available, but for him there had been only his will to survive and to see his desire for revenge against his tormentor eventually balanced out. He intended that act of vengeance to take every bit as long against that one as he had suffered under that constant aching pain of his hunger which had allowed him no rest. That pain had driven him to the very edges of madness, and only now was he able to wonder if in fact he had been pushed over that line. His reaction yesterday, the feral attack on the unsuspecting soldiers, had been without his normal finesse in such death dealing matters. Was that merely a symptom of his hunger or a signal that he was no longer in full control of himself?
Progressing closer to full alertness he sent his senses out through the stone walls of the castle seeking the warmth of the living beings who he recalled had been here just the night before. Thankfully the search was a short one to conclude that most if not all seemed to still be here and in fact a few new ones he did not recall sensing before may have joined the party as well. His physical existence did not move, not even breath, which of course his kind did not require anyway, as he let his senses wander and observe, taking closer measure of those beings within his grasp, and especially the unique flavors each would bring to his being as he feasted upon them over time.
Of course he realized that having the necessary time to enjoy them all would require that he kept these morsels available somehow to satisfy his hungers and to help rebuild his strength. Those efforts would take time as well for his body could not consume more than a fraction of them at any one time. Today he would be able to devour more than he had been capable of yesterday thanks to his influx of new strength from those feedings, but the building up of his power would take days at least to accomplish before he was ready to once again assume his rightful role in the world.
It also served no purpose for him to kill all these visitors as a butcher might and store their bodies for another time. He had no need to eat, well at least not how the living thought of such things. And the dead could provide him no nourishment that his body desired. No, his existence required a steady and ready fresh flow of living victims to sustain him. At present he had access to just what he needed, but he immediately realized if he were not careful, if he killed indiscriminately or indiscreetly, he would do nothing but drive the living ones away from the castle and beyond his current reach just like other predators in the wild did to their prey. The trick then was to remain cautious and planning and take only enough to survive and restore himself. He could sup from many instead of consume a few, but this led to a better chance of his discovery. While he was not fearful of those within his walls, he did respect the basic ingenuity of humans to overthrow the shackles of their oppressors. That respect came with fleeting images of his mortal life when he had done just that. Luckily careful and deliberate planning was something he excelled in, skills that were vital even to an immortal.
He immediately realized of course that meant he would require a living agent to do his bidding and perform the necessary tasks to manipulate or perhaps physically prevent the soldiers from departing his home. The trick was finding the proper tool that could be molded to serve these purposes. So that is what he turned his senses toward looking for as they judged each of the beings now within the castle walls. He looked into their hearts, seeking their desires, their fears, and especially their dreams for one that would suit his needs. Finally he found what he was looking for, surprised in no little way that such a perfect tool was actually within his grasp. Tonight with only a little manipulation this one would become his willing slave and the costs to his enslaver were hardly even a challenge.
"Who am I?" The question appeared from the now almost fully conscious portions of his mind. Part of him remembered that before his transformation from human into something far greater than he had been when he walked this realm as a mere mortal, his identity had been very important to him. But should such a simple thing as an identity or name still be important to a being like him now? Was he not so much farther above such concerns that to worry about something so trivial would only serve to lessen him somehow? No it would not he realized. The humans of today he knew still gave names to their gods just as the ones did in his own time. Mortals required this so they would have a common reference for the greater beings they worshipped even if the greater beings did not need such things. Since this were so then his name was indeed vital to him since one day soon the mortals would need to know it and speak it with the same reverence as any god they might choose to pray to.
"Johan." No he knew that was not quite right. That was merely his common name that he had allowed friends to use. "Johannas" His name came to him all of a sudden and invoked with it repressed feelings of a life before this one that while foreign were at least more than just the hunger he felt. There was associated pride in that name, he had been someone of power even before his transformation he knew. "Lord Johannas" People had respected him and even feared his wrath then. How much more would those same people likely fear him now he wondered reaching total consciousness?
Of course that was a foolish question since he knew simply based on his level of hunger it was unlikely anyone who knew of him when he was alive would still themselves be living today. That was in some ways a deep regret. If he could find one that had survived he could used their memory and stories of him much the same way as a trumpeter to announce his return and eventual mastery once again of this world. Perhaps stories of his power had been passed through the people of his age to their descendents.
Johan rose up from where he had lain as he slept more so than just simply climbing awkwardly to his feet as a mere mortal might do. Gravity no longer held him quite as tight in its imposing grip as it had when he was alive. He could not ignore its power over him completely at all times, but if he concentrated upon it he could overcome its effects through an act of willpower alone.
He opened his eyes for the first time and noticed at once the increased amounts of light shining within the castle and silently congratulated his future meals on figuring out how to make this trick work. With this light to protect them they would feeler safer tonight than they did last night and that was a good thing for his ultimate plans for them even though it was a minor inconvenience to him at present. Even in life he would have looked on this added illumination only as simply another challenge to be overcome to reach his goals of this evening. He certainly would not have allowed it to turn him away from implementing his desired plans.
Johan stood where he landed stock still, without breathing of course since his body no longer was tied to that particular need, and instead waited with the patience of the dead for the situation within the castle to become what he required. For more than an hour as mortals judge time he let his senses continue to wander through the castle, focusing hungrily on the dinning area where so many tasty choices, none of which were the mortal foods that were being consumed, were packed so closely together. Over time though this larger grouping began to splinter off into smaller groups and those smaller broke down till more in some cases. Each seemed locked to their own purpose and headed their own directions as required.
Though he had not truly been conscious and able to control the events that took place last evening, his mind and senses had recorded all the details, and though initially vague when he awoke, it now replayed clearly in his mind. Johan recognized the life forces of the pair who had responded first to the pleas of his second feeding were now dishing out food in the kitchen, while the one he had fed upon and left incomplete was alone in room all by himself. One group of eleven soldiers seemingly finished their meals and then departed to methodically change out or assume new guard positions for the evening to come. They had done so last night and it had served Johan's purposes far more than there own. Tonight would likely show them the same results.
He waited while a second group of eleven ate as well and then retired to their beds as a group for the evening based on the words they spoke and the fatigue he could sense in their mortal bodies. They still held some concerns about the way their comrades had been attacked last evening, but were not yet to the point of fear and panic. They trusted the others to guard them as they slept.
All throughout this time Johan's hunger was still demanding of his attention but since he had fed last night he was able to keep control over it. He waited patiently as other groups retired as well until only those were left who finished cleaning the kitchen and then they too also retired en masse to seek a few needed hours of slumber. Time at the moment was still Johan's ally in this evening's activities and rushing his next actions would only work against his long term plans. He had to feed but do so in a way that would not drive the others away.
Another quiet hour passed as he gave those abed a chance to fall into sleep and those on guard to become relaxed with their assignment. But he endured it as his mind began to plot and plan, listening to the soft words spoken by those guards who still were awake, seeking the best answer to the immediate and long term needs of his body before committing himself to action. They spoke of his attack last night, though not in fear he was surprised but rather anger learning that the living ones suspected kobolds not one such as him had been the source of the incident. This made Johan laugh almost as if he had been insulted. But while part of him raged at this indignity this caused many asleep to sense his discomfort as it radiated through the walls of his home. He calmed himself before his unchecked emotions awoken them, pulling back instead so that all they did was to slip into troubled dreams.
But even in this moment of anger he saw opportunity. He heard the soldiers speak of their anger at what he had done last night and how the kobold would be made to pay for it the next day. He also heard how one had been captured and was paying for it right now. He remembered feeling those terrible little pitiful souls when they had briefly spent time in his castle recently. He had dismissed them of no consequence, since he knew they would not be able to free him. But in truth they had performed an unexpected service for him by their greed, putting into motion the chance for his escape by causing these soldiers to return. And now one was being held somewhere here in his castle as well. Such a creature was perfect for his plans!
Johan focused his senses on finding this creature, undoubted one of those living beings he had sensed all alone. His perception first found Private Andre's room, his second victim from last night he realized, where the man sat all alone and broken from their encounter. The young private had tasted so sweet, more delicious even that the first soldier he had consumed in the well. This taste was undoubtedly connected to Private Andre's innocent and caring nature. For some reason those who could be described as selfless or good were the most delicious to his tastes, not unlike how many living mortals found veal to be the most succulent meat due to its young age. For Johan these types of meals were a culinary delight to his undead senses so needed to be relished over time not consumed in a single mad gorging. He marked the location in his mind, knowing that he would visit this private again soon.
Next door Johan sensed a new tattered spirit that he had been unaware of until now being watched over by two human guards with strong life essences. He floated his consciousness into this adjacent room and found the pitiful broken kobold prisoner still clinging stubbornly to its life. In a way the thing called Johan felt a moment of pity for this damaged creature because it had been born not of its choosing into a race that was weaker and smaller than most of the other types of beings that made up this world. Had it been stronger, it likely would not have been captured and subjugated to the violent beating it had suffered through. Had the kobold been the larger creature, then the pair of soldiers that had attacked it might now themselves be lying in this room instead or under similar situations in the kobold camp.
This was an example of how cruel life truly was regardless of how the sanctimonious might spout about that it was the meek among us that will one day inherit all. Strength bred opportunity, Johan's own former life proved that without a doubt. Opportunity led to power as his undead 'life' was now a testament to. Those unwilling acknowledge these facts and then reach for that prize deserved to be subjugated to the effects of those who did. There was simple justice in this concept that did not require philosophical concepts of such vague things of right and wrong.
Johan considered a new idea for the moment. It was in his power not so much to restore the kobold to the health it had known, but rather to make it something more than it had been all its life. In fact he could make it superior to those who had inflicted this beating upon the creature. The being of darkness and evil wondered just what effect that would have on the kobold? Would it seek revenge on its tormentors or would it instead realize how it had been abused by those stronger that it and therefore not act in a like manner? That question might be worth actually putting into practice just to see the results. He decided to file that possibility for entertainment away until after he had eaten. That thought of course brought his insatiable hunger once gain to the forefront of his consciousness. He needed to seek food. That sent his senses out once more seeking sustenance.
Johan continued his search, now focused more toward sustenance, in the opposite wing of the castle and immediately sensed two more rooms that each were occupied by a single human individual as well. Neither appeared to be injured and both had very strong, enticing life energy about them that made Johan's mouth water figuratively, since this was actually a function only a living body could perform. He recorded their locations in his mind as well. He most likely would require an agent to see to his interests during daylight hours and such things took time so he would need the privacy a sole occupant room provided. That of course was proving he found the right one to be corrupted. Unfortunately he now realized that the first one he had consumed last night would have been the best choice for such a role based on that man's personal desires. While this error made for slightly more inconvenience to his plans, Johan was still fully trusting in his own abilities to achieve the desired results in a slave.
Finally the creature called Johan sensed the new pair of arrivals in this same are of the castle and drew his senses for an even closer look for their suitability. After but a momentary glimpse of his senses though he flung himself back and immediately cried out in alarm, thankful that none of his intended prey were close enough to hear his uncontrolled reaction. The closest way to describe in mortal equivalence of what he had just experienced would have been for a man to stick his head into a skunk burrow and inhale deeply of the lingering fragrance.
"They dared to bring a priest into my home?" For the first time a feeling other than hunger was the predominant one in Johan's conscious being. He was instead enraged far beyond a level that a mere living mortal was capable of. Every element of his being screamed at this personal outrage and he smashed his hand against the glassy stone walls beside him reflexively in complete and utter frustration. Of course his blows like all the others also had no effect upon these walls.
The cautious and calculating part of his mind finally reached through the rage to the surface long enough to evoke commands of restraint and calming on his body. It was true that a cleric had the potential to call upon actual power that could do him harm, perhaps even kill him. It had in fact been a cleric that had imprisoned him away in confined solitude all those many decades ago. There was no way he would allow a second such embarrassment to occur. So what Johan needed to counter this threat was a foolproof plan to neutralize this priest before he could bring his powers to bear. That type of planning would take perfect timing and finesse, but both of these were skills that Johan excelled at it life, and even more so now in death.
The moment to strike had come and suddenly with the presence of the cleric within these walls the passage of time was not so much the ally to Johan that it had been. The priest had to be disposed of before he could pick up the mantle and finish the work of Johan's destruction that the last cleric had attempted all those many years ago. He now was convinced fully that he needed, now more than ever, a willing agent or an unwilling slave to advise him on all that had occurred while he was forced to rest and regain his strength during the daylight hours. Finally he needed to feast on more living beings so that he could restore more of his wasted strength. Of the three tasks the last seemed the easiest to accomplish so would be the first on his list. With his ever present hunger finally sated and silent for the moment he would take some time to plan without distraction what his next best course of action was to be for accomplishing the other two.
Thankfully because of his immortal existence a physical form was not the only means he had at his disposal to travel. He released his material form and began his journey moving slowly and cautiously and sticking to the darkest corners of the hallway ceilings where there were no chance of accidental observation if somehow someone happened to pass below. No one however did and eventually he arrived near to his destination. As he closed on those he had selected to sate his appetite for this evening he slowed even further moving only when their eyes did not peer in his direction so that there was no chance of being observed even accidentally. Eventually he arrived in what he considered the perfect position from which to strike.
Ironically it was because the mortals had learned how to use the statue for illumination that he was successful at approaching with such stealth. An odd byproduct of his granted immortality is that he extinguished all common light sources by his mere presence alone. As his strength returned the same effect would begin to show on the lights from the crystals in the wall as well, but for the moment it was not a concern providing he stayed away from the lantern in the statues hand outside in the courtyard.
Yet even still without this telltale sign, somehow the pair of guards below him sensed his presence and their bodies shuddered reflexively to his presence. Thankfully though from their facial reaction and tired minds the two both assumed the chill they felt was from some draft of cold air originating within the castle. Had they been more alert they would have remembered that this castle was almost air tight so random drafts were not something they should have encountered. But even had they realized and understood the source of their discomfort it would not have saved their lives.
Johan descended upon the pair wielding all of the power he currently had at his disposal. While this was far less than he was capable of at his peak, it was still more than enough to slay the first guard before he could even get his sword drawn from his scabbard or do more that pass a gargling warning to his partner. The second soldier awoke fully and had the time to complete this arming action, but it still did him little good. While tempered steel was a formidable match for any other alloy in hand to hand combat against a mortal foe, this type of blade could not even scratch an undead being such as Johan unless it had been infused with divine or magical enchantment, which unfortunately for the guard holding it this one had not. There were of course some more common metals that did indeed have a natural ability to harm the undead, such as silver, but unfortunately for the second man he did not possess any of them. His scream was no louder than that of his partner's.
Johan paused at the completion of his feeding and sent his more fully restored and enhanced senses out into the castle one more time seeking any hint of alarm from his attack. The next nearest humans, except for the delicious Private Andre, were thankfully still oblivious to the attack he had just performed. This was exactly what Johan had desired and he had selected his targets because of their remote location and to further his plans. Nnow the undead one still had to ensure the deaths of a pair more of their companions did not send the rest of the rabbits scurrying beyond his reach.
For that reason Johan entered the room where the kobold lay in pain near death. Refreshed from his recent dining Johan could immediately sense that the pitiful and broken creature was in its final moments of life now and would last at most another hour on its own. He stalked toward it slowly, finding that he enjoyed watching yet another approaching death even one that he himself was not the direct cause of. As he got closer the wounded creature's one good eye snapped open and even that close to death, and with that level of continuous pain the kobold recognized that the true evil had come for it and cried in self pity that it was unable to defend himself. Johan's cold and clammy touch reached out and grasped it by the throat and effortlessly lifted the diminutive creature from the bed before holding it seemingly effortlessly out at a full arm's length from his body. "Death has indeed come for you little one." He spoke in a voice that originated from beyond the grave. "But first you will perform a necessary task for me." The kobold wanted to scream, perhaps even to warn the one human who had been kind to him, but that was beyond the ability of his tortured body. As he looked in the walking dead's eyes he knew that he was incapable of doing anything beyond what was commanded of him by this dark master. He would perform this task and then, he knew only a final sense of peace and freedom from pain.
Professor Ofwald sat at his desk with the light of two candles while he poured over the ancient book in his hands. These secondary lights were necessary since the priest had cast globes of darkness over the pair of wall crystals stopping the castle's light from entering this room while the pair slept. He promised the scholar that the spell would last at least a few hours to allow them a peaceful nap but the professor was too excited. In other rooms he assumed the soldiers would find more mundane ways to accomplish similar goals of darkening, perhaps by simply sleeping beneath their covers or wearing blindfolds to bed. But these considerations were just momentary sideline distractions from the true reason he could not find rest; the mystery he held in his hands.
The text was bewildering because it was completely contradictory to logic in every way possible. Being a scholar, especially one dedicated to history and archeology, Hans Ofwald had access to much common knowledge that was beyond the keen or interest of the lay man of his day. In fact the professor spent much of his time, when not actually researching a site, increasing his wealth of knowledge by studying up on selected subjects that would aid him in dating and understanding ancient locations and especially the people who lived in them in those times.
One such example of this pursuit of knowledge was the season he had spent learning all about parchment creation and book binding. He knew historically how cave paintings had given way to stone tablets with hieroglyphics and eventually to animal skins with defined alphabets related to specific sounds. Only in the past few hundred years had mankind's technology advanced to the creations of parchment, first from reeds and then from other types of trees and plants. While he had excelled in cataloguing all this information in his mind, certain it would help him date locations by the documents and writings they contained, he had never expected to find a book that broke all his preconceived rules he had learned.
First the tome before him was made of modern day parchment, not unlike that which he would find in a quality store of a major metropolis such as the capital of Port-a-Lucien that carried such things. In fact the pages of his private journal that he kept were of surprisingly similar quality and make. But the volume here on the desk showed centuries of age based simply upon its wear and especially on the even yellowing of its pages that only occurred over time. While it might seem odd, parchment makers soaked their products in vats of urine, preferably horse, to actually bleach much of the yellow tint out of their products. Over time this whitening faded away as contaminants from hands, or event he air itself turned the pages back to their more natural color. Unfortunately the number of passing years required to achieve this strong yellowish color, Professor Ofwald safely underestimated at more than a century, ruled out the mere existence of this book since the capability to create this type of paper had not been around for more than a few decades at best!
Secondly the binding was equally an enigma. Combination glue and stitch binding was a relatively recent invention here in Dementlieu as well, in fact within the last decade, and had as far as the professor knew just had only just begun to catch on in the other more civilized lands such as Mordent to the south. Previously books were bound either by glue or by stitching but never both. While it seemed odd that such a blend of methods had never occurred to anyone before recently, most likely due to the added costs this would have incurred, the resulting quality of any modern book that followed this method was universally agreed to result in the best of both methods without the disadvantages of either. But again, this book had most definitely seen the passage of more than a single decade of time, yet it displayed a binding method that was not in existence before that.
Finally there was the script contained upon the pages. The ink itself also seemed fairly modern, though in truth he had no point of reference on that particular subject. While he had thought to study the making of books, he had not had a similar inspiration to study the development of ink. He made a mental note to do this at his next available convenience.
That aside, however, it was the words themselves that were the most intriguing. The good professor estimated that the text had been written by a single author simultaneously in at least twenty two separate languages. Of all of those he, a rather learned man by any objective standard, could read only four and was familiar with the various words, letter, and symbols to make an educated stab at perhaps nine more. That left another nine beyond the depth of his experience, which was saying a lot for a man who had spent a significant portion of his life travelling and conversing in distant lands and digging up, studying and recording ancient cultures.
While it was rare for documents to contain more than a single language, it was not unheard of. Usually such texts were a cornerstone for translation as the words written in one part of the document in one language, were repeated in another portion in the second language, and sometimes even also in a third language. But again that was not a format that the author of this particular book had followed.
Instead he or she, Hans was leaning toward a he as the script seemed both more forceful and conservative than the average female's dainty and flowing writings, had written each sentence by selecting each word or concept from a different language entirely than those around it. That meant, knowing four of the languages fluently and bits of the others, the professor could on average read two words out of every ten on a given page. And since the languages were used randomly the most important words to understanding a given sentence were almost always the ones he could not translate.
This led to the most important question of all regarding this book. Who would go to such lengths to write something down in a means that no one beyond simply the author or someone taking perhaps years to translate was capable of reading? There were only two possible answers that came to him in answer to this question. He analyzed each in his mind while he sat here in the candle lit darkness of his room with his clerical companion snoring blissfully behind him.
First was that magic was potentially involved in the book's creation. Professor Ofwald included this idea simply because he knew such power did in fact exist, and he had seen a small demonstration of it just last night with the mountain sheep. In truth, for the Professor magic tended to symbolize to him those oddities he encountered that he could not otherwise find a rational explanation for; which of course this book was a perfect example. But accepting magic existed did not give him a leg up on understanding the power or this tome any better. He would have to ask the young Anderros to think on this subject and provide potential explanations based on his experience if he could.
But even accepting that possibility the professor doubted that magic was actually a key element in the book's creation, though in truth he could not honestly say why he felt this way. Hans had handled spell books before during his investigations and occasionally had tried to comprehend the strange writing contained within, but it had always made a part of his brain hurt and he quickly gave up each time. Almost no part of this book had evoked such a similar effect upon Professor Ofwald except for the last dozen or so pages which almost appeared to be a purposely separated section from the rest of the manuscript. Those pages did cause his head to ache and he knew they were indeed spells, though to tap into what power and cause whatever effect he had no clue. But oddly for the first time in his life he felt pulled to these pages unlike any previous occasion he had encountered such things, and knew with enough time to study them he could master their secrets.
The second possible reason for the books unique worded construction, and as far as Hans was concerned the more likely possibility, was that all the careful compilation had been accomplished with the express desire to make the use of this volume nearly, but mind you not completely, impossible to decipher. In that case the text most likely contained very valuable secrets, or perhaps even directions to hidden wealth.
While the Professor had encountered rumors of lost treasures that had been hidden away and forgotten over time, almost all those stories were mad speculation of events and the details associated with these stories always seemed to be filled with historical inaccuracies that made the entire quest for their ultimate prize highly suspect. But there were the historical exceptions to this general rule.
Some pirates for example had indeed made maps to buried treasures that had been recovered by others long after the pirate's death so the idea was not without a precedent of a sort. Those maps though always were written from a seaman's perspective and it took one of equal mind often to decipher where their clues led.
This book then may have perhaps been created by a palace scholar for example that had hidden the wealth of his sovereign and provided this work as the only clue to recovering the treasure. In this way he or she guaranteed that only educated and civilized beings in the future could reach the goal and the influence and power such a treasure could provide for.
The few words on the first page he could understand did seem to bear out this possibility for they contained words such as 'Dementlieu' and 'black castle.' Even if this book did not lead to a treasure, those words occurring on the same page strongly indicated that whatever the book contained it did in fact have some association with the structure in which it was found. That fact alone would be of interest to the good sergeant and might allow Hans the opportunity to keep studying it and finish his own translation, perhaps back at the university where other scholarly intellects might be mined as well.
Hans felt a chill and wrapped his coat tighter around his body as he continued to stare at the book. His room back at the college was always drafty so it had been second nature for him to react to the cold in such a way, but then the analytical part of his mind realized the candles had not flickered in response to a breeze so the chill had not come from a movement of air.
Suddenly, almost teasingly, both candles were snuffed out as if by a gentle but firm breath. Of course there was no one to have created this breath in the room within range beyond the professor himself, and he felt no such wind on any parts of his exposed flesh, such as his face which lay directly between he two candles. Hans somehow knew deep within himself that he and the cleric were no longer alone in their shared room, even though their door had not opened to allow anyone to enter.
Suddenly Hans heard Father Damien as he tried to scream or perhaps speak but his words were cut off immediately. Listening in the total darkness Hans realized there was the distinctive sound of a struggle as the priest seemed to be battling whatever had attacked him while he lay on the bed. Then Hans heard the sound of something metallic land upon the stone floor and roll toward him, indicating the object was round, before it bumped ever so gently into the professor's shoe and slowly rocked in circles until it sat silently on the ground. By the time this object had grown still, so too had the sounds of scuffle and the priest's breathing as well.
Professor Ofwald reached down for the object that had struck his foot, figuring for a man who had dedicated his life to learning things, it seemed only appropriate his last act be just such a one. A cold and deadly voice, both in its grave-like tone and its seriousness halted him in mid action.
"You may feel free to go ahead and pick up that pathetic icon that serves as an example of subjugation to a false and weak goddess if you truly believe it will serve an unbeliever such as yourself any better than it did its faithful previous owner." The voice mocked and seemed ready to spring from the shadows at him from any direction. Wisely the scholar sat back up in his chair leaving the object ignored. Though he could not see the new arrival, his guest obviously did not suffer from a similar handicap.
Silence that was every bit as terrifying as the voice had been, or perhaps even more so since at least with the voice he could tell somewhat how far away the being was from him, made the professor squirm in his seat and finally speak to break the spell. "Before you kill me might I ask you a question or two so as to not leave these issues unresolved in my soul?"
"You both assume and presume much in that single request." The dead voice spoke again, having not moved from wherever in the room it was. "I have as of yet not decided to kill you, though rest assured it would not take much effort, nor do I see where you have any rights to request anything further from me since you already sit within the protection of my walls without my permission." Once again quiet descended as if the being liked how it felt to keep Hans off balance.
But the professor had been in similarly tense, while not nearly the same, situations before when he had been at the mercy of someone of vast power, as he most assuredly was right now. Most often in the past this had been when he had been seeking funding for a dig, or had been forced to seek permission for an excavation on lands of a nobleman. But still learning to speak to those in power was a skill he had picked up quickly and mastered even more so over time. He figured rightly that using this skill now could not put him in any worse of a situation than he was at present.
"I would not presume to believe that any words of mine could influence your decision on whether to kill me or not but…" His thought process was immediately interrupted by his visitor.
"I am glad to see we can agree on something." More words follow by soft and sinister chuckling.
"…but I was employed to learn the true history of this structure since there is no historical records of it. Since you claim ownership I assume you would be the only one likely to have such answers, even if I am never able to share them with another I would still like to have this mystery solved." The professor even surprised himself that he had been able to make this speech without sounding nearly as fearful as he was feeling.
The boldness of the request actually caused the undead visitor to chuckle even more. Needless to say that while potentially a good sign, its deathly tone did nothing to comfort the professor. "You are a priceless treat old man." The dark chuckle tuned to even darker laughter. "When I lived long ago few were the warriors bold enough to make any request, much less a personal one of me when I held their life precariously in my hands. And now that I am so much more than I was back then I believe that the number so inclined to such an act of bravery would be even fewer." He laugher a moment or two longer before the room descended once more into a prolonged silence.
Finally he spoke up again. "Ask your questions old man, but take care to do it with respect for while I am immortal, I do not entertain fools long and those who are disrespectful I chose to suffer not at all!"
The fact that the being had agreed to his wishes and not just killed the scholar outright caught even the professor off guard. So much so that he was unprepared with his series of questions. But of course conversation was the preferred weapon of a scholar so it was not like he went into any such battle unarmed. It took him only a few brief moments to organize his train of thoughts. "You name yourself the lord of this mighty castle, and undoubtedly rightfully claim yourself among the most intimidating of warriors of your time, but I am fluently familiar with the history of this land and can not identify from what time period you mortal life was a part of or what relation if any you hold to those who held power here throughout our recorded history. Can you start by correcting this obvious gap in our national history by telling me of the age from which you sprang?"
The silence descended and Hans wondered if he had angered his visitor or this otherworldly entity was simply collecting his thoughts. Had it been a breathing being, then perhaps he could have judged its emotions by its change in rate or sound of the air it drew, but that was not an option in this case. Finally he spoke. "Your recordings show no history of me, because I chose not to leave you one. I find such things lead inevitably to supposition, curiosity, and investigation all of which tend to annoy me rather than flatter or further my own purposes. I found keeping my existence secret or at least restricted serves me much better." He explained take special care to emphasize on the dislike of curiosity portions. Once satisfied that he had gotten his point across though he continued. "I built this castle here beyond the reach of your 'holders of power' though they knew of me and gave me deference to my station and abilities. I know not how you judge your ages but my time among the living was ended long before your own birth and likely that of your parents, and possibly even your grandparents before them as well."
The professor calculated this approximation to roughly match the century or so of age the book on his table displayed as well, linking these two perhaps in a second way circumstantial way. Hans considered asking next about the tome, but if the being in the room had gone to all this effort to protect its secrets through such elaborate penning the scholar doubted the undead agent was likely to share them just because he was asked to. "I do not mean to be argumentative, but still to be as powerful as you claim…" He felt a sudden wave of cold anger aimed in his direction. "…I mean describe, then someone of power or influence would have recorded your existence or at least the building of this castle, which I assume took some time to accomplish." Silence descended again as his own words stopped. Slowly the cold seemed to draw back, though it could just as easily be that the professor was getting used to it.
"I did not say no one had recorded words about me, only that no records you have access to exist today. I on occasion took umbrage with some thing being said about me and let my displeasure be known far and wide so that a similar mistake would not occur again. I know of but a single book currently that speaks to my existence." He said finally after an eternity of waiting. "Perhaps there are others among the histories you cling to as well that hint to me if one reads between the lines, though I would believe any reference to me in these would likely also be suspect. My existence while known to those in power in my days was never appreciated appropriately. The wisest ones chose coexistence through blissful ignorance. And those who chose confrontation suffered for this folly. As you see, after all this time I still remain to back up my own claim. I suspect my rivals have long since passed from this world" Of course the professor could not see but was smart enough not to make such an observation. Survival had of course been and still remained his first and only goal and to achieve this would require the professor to quickly build a worthwhile rapport with the creature that held his life in his dead hands. Failure to do so was not worth pondering.
"What then do you desire, peace and solitude?" The professor asked knowing this to be a key question. "Did you attack those men last night for some offense we all were unaware of such as invading your home?" He waited a moment before leading to the important question that could mean survival. "Do you simply wish us to leave you to your existence without interruption from mortal world endeavors?"
Once again a long pause filled the room that was almost maddening because Hans had begun to dare to hope he might still live through the night and this encounter. All of that though likely rested on how his visitor responded to these questions. Finally the voice that had sidetracked death responded. "I did what I must to those men last night for the same reasons you partook of the meal of lamb in the dining hall this evening. I must eat as well or I too grow weak over time. I advise you not to try to take comfort in that thought old man for I never grow so weak as to be susceptible to destruction by the likes of those who are still alive here in my home." The last words seemed almost rushed to the scholar, like an added afterthought or a self confidence builder. They were the only ones so far that did not hold the ring of complete power and undeniable truth. "I care not who lives within my walls, for this structure serves only to provide me a comfortable place to avoid the sunlit hours. Having you and your companions here means I need not travel far afield if I require sustenance, so please feel free to stay in my larder as long as you desire." Once again he ended with that chilling laugh which suddenly grew louder as he closed the distance between them even though the professor could still not see who or what originated it.
A cold and icy hand seized his throat and lifted the professor from the chair effortlessly though the scholar could still not see his assailant at a mere arm's length in the darkness. "Do you wish to live old man?" The fingers on his throat felt like frostbite, killing the skin wherever they touched. Hans could not speak through this sharp pain, instead only nodded and hoped his attacked would accept that as an answer. Slowly he was lowered back into his chair. "Then come morning you will take the body of this god-lover back to his people and explain to them that the same fate awaits any other foolish priest who dares to put the power of their distant goddess up against my own." He released Hans and allowed him to once again begin to breathe. "I have now marked you so I will always know where you are and if you have accomplished those actions I require. If you choose to finish your remaining years of life, I suggest you perform this task in the morning without hesitation."
The cool presence pulled back and the professor began to suspect his visitor had departed. He started to stand up when the voice called out distantly, from the doorway no doubt, one last time. "Surprisingly I have enjoyed our conversation old man; perhaps we will do this again." The subtle threat hung in the air leaving the Professor frozen and barely breathing in his chair until some long hours later when Father Damien's spell wore off and light once again streamed into the room.
Hans Ofwald did not even look at the other bed, afraid the horrific images that had haunted his imagination for the past hour would prove not even to begin to approach the reality of the situation. Instead he huddled under his covers, thankful to be alive and praying for dawn so that he might escape Kasteel Zwarte.