Dissolution of Arms

By Eerie

Chapter Twelve: Ill Omens

D shifted slightly under the weight of Caruwyn's head pressing against his shoulder. Warmth flushed the light evening winds and the hunter and steed alike were in no hurry to get anywhere, though they had no particular destination. Caruwyn had tossed and murmured in his nightmare-filled sleep all morning, often waking and staring at the sky with grave eyes as if in a trance. D had learned it best to just let him be, but even as the young one's eyes remained fixed and seemingly alert, he was not awake. The vampire hunter wondered then if he should rouse the sleeper but decided that jarring Caruwyn back into the world from wherever he was would not be the wisest idea.

But as the soft nightfall covered the day the albino grew groggy and finally fell into a peaceful slumber. D was not overly thrilled at having his passenger fall asleep, and against his own shoulder, as they rode. But he didn't have the heart to stir the poor wretch.

They had traveled far in their months of journeying, but the hunter never paid much attention to where, though certain familiar landmarks would always give it away. When all time meant nothing and life promised a never-ending road, one didn't think much about them with significance. It was usually very boring. Only his fighting, the parasite's sarcastic attitude, despite its annoyance, and now Caruwyn's company were all that D had to stave off the monotony of living.

"Can we pick it up a pace?" the voice in his hand piped up as if on cue.

"I thought you appreciated this season," D answered.

"I do when it's not from the grip of a rein! Why are we ambling along like this? It's driving me nuts. Can't we stop or something?"

"No."

The thing sighed. "At least give me some air."

D dropped his arm to his side.

"Ahhh, that's much more like it. So where are we off to anyway? You seem intent on finding something. A fight maybe?"

"Maybe."

"I could go for something lively. That beast last night was too simple. We need a real battle. Something I can really sink my teeth into."

D remained quiet as the creature rambled on. The turn of the seasons never failed to make it antsy. But tonight D didn't mind listening to its incessant babbling.

A huge magpie swooped past and shrieked its annoyance at them from above before gliding off to a different tree to glare at the intruders. Caruwyn fluttered his eyelids, roused at the sound. Realizing that he had fallen asleep against D's shoulder, he was about to jerk himself up and mutter an apology when he noticed a voice. One he had never heard before. Confusion grappled with him but he remained as he was, trying to discern the easygoing speech and where in the world it was coming from.

"Like that time last summer. Or was it two summers ago? Who the hell can keep track?"

The albino turned his eyes toward the source of the rambling and saw nothing but the horse's feet and the slowly passing ground.

"Now that was a fine meal!"

Caruwyn's eyes shifted to D's arm lying slack at his side and saw the little jabbering face inside its palm. His eyes grew wide with horror. The albino shot upright and in his shock scrabbled from the horse, landed hard, though he barely noticed, and stared up in mute confusion at D's turned back.

The Dhampire Prince stopped his mount abruptly and twisted to look back at Caruwyn, instantly recognizing the look of fear in the other's eyes. Another nightmare most likely.

"I . . . I'm not dreaming!" the young man cried out, more for his own sake though he didn't quite believe himself.

D slid from the saddle and approached him but Caruwyn backed away with terror-filled eyes. The older dhampire stopped and looked at him strangely.

"You . . . what . . ." Caruwyn stammered.

D reached down for him and the albino fixed his eyes to the hand that came closer. There was nothing there. But he still did not take it.

"What's wrong with you?" D asked.

"I'm not going crazy. I saw it. There," the youth uttered and pointed at D's hand.

The tall half-breed pulled his hand back and sighed. 'See what your tireless mouth does?' he thought toward the parasite.

"Come back. I'll explain." D said.

They rode on in silence and the parasite eyed Caruwyn wearily. D had disclosed everything about their truce with one another; how it aided the dhampire in battles and briefly of the history they shared.

'Of course D had forgotten to mention my untimely wisdom', the thing mused. The albino met its glance and smiled nervously. 'Ha,' the parasite thought bitterly, 'he smiles at me! Already a smile. Unbelievable. Even D refuses to do that.'

"So do you have a name?" Caruwyn ventured.

The parasite was surprised beyond speech. It hadn't expected acknowledgement much less words directly aimed at it.

"Don't bother speaking to him. He won't listen," D said to Caruwyn. "He'll only talk."

"I resent that!" the entity shrilled.

The young dhampire stifled a laugh. He had to admit that whole thing was quite odd, but the more he reflected on D's words, the more they made sense to him. And because the creature was a part of his master, he could grow to get used to it. Inside, he was reveling in the things that D had said. Finally, something more to understand the hunter by. It wasn't much, but Caruwyn didn't care. It was progress.

"I'm sorry I reacted that way," the youth said to the creature.

D remained silent, which the parasite took as permission. "Don't worry about it, kid."

Caruwyn spied the flicker of lights in the distance and looked up to see where they were. A city shielded in ruins met his eyes just ahead. The beast trotted forward into its outskirts and the young protégé studied the cracked and moss-riddled frames of old houses long abandoned to nature. Things seemed so much more remarkable back then, before the Great War. People had a taste for art, beauty, and the passion for creation whereas now they lived huddled together in fear under simple roofs capping walls adorned with mounted crucifixes. Such odd creatures, humans. So prone to fear. He wondered what it was that drove them to keep living.

D reined the horse in at the edge of the more modern center of the small city where a group of men came sprinting toward them from the streets as if they had been expecting the hunter. The prince waited patiently.

"Are you the Dhampire Hunter?" one of the mortals called breathlessly.

"I am," D said.

"Thank God. We sent our messengers out for you weeks ago and they haven't come back. Thank God you're here!" The man cast a brief glance at the pale stranger behind the hunter. "There's a terrible monster loose here. Please, will you help us? Name any price you want!"

"And what sort of creature is it?" the dhampire asked.

Another man spoke up. "Damnedest thing. We don't know what it is. We can't seem to find it."

D's eyebrows rose imperceptibly.

"It looks like us. It talks like us. And it can change its shape. It never looks the same! We don't know who to trust anymore!" the first man cried after catching his breath.

"I'll have to know what I'm dealing with before I can set my price."

"Yes anything . . . we just want our friends back. Our children. Please. Stay at the inn at our expense until you can find it. We'll do whatever we can to help. Whatever you ask."

D nudged his heels into the steed's sides and it trotted into the simple maze of the city.

"I'll do what I can."

The albino heard the men sigh in unison at their relief and felt their eyes follow the mechanical horse as it strode into the city. When they were far enough behind, Caruwyn spoke.

"Master, what's going on?"

"I don't know. But this will be good for you. Keep your senses open," D said without a trace of concern.

The innkeeper regarded them no less anxiously than their greeters. His dull brown eyes became alight with startled recognition that quickly changed to hope.

"Please. You are our guests if you agree to help with this terrible situation. Just call on me and I'll see that you're fit. Whatever you need," the man said with clasped hands at his broad chest.

"We appreciate it," D answered. "But there aren't enough details about this . . . situation . . . Perhaps you can spare something more."

The man nodded his head and that flicker of hope subdued to sadness. "It started about two months ago. At first we thought it was a sweeping illness, you know, the kind that makes its way to nearly everyone. But they never got better, started acting strange. Like their will to live just up and disappeared. They walk around like zombies, no life at all in those eyes. And it wasn't long before we realized it was no sickness." The man's voice quieted several decibels and his eyes swept the empty room in subtle fear. "It's demon's work. I'm sure of it."

D looked skeptical. "What makes you say this?"

"I saw it. Not but a few nights ago. There is a little girl that my poor daughter knew before her accident," the innkeeper paused to cross himself, sweat forming on his brow. "They were close friends and my daughter's death was very hard on her. The little girl's name is Suzette. She lives close and so she comes around this area all the time. It was a slow night as usual and for some reason I just couldn't sleep. So I sat by the window to watch the stars. It was about midnight when I saw her walking alone, and we don't think to warn our kids about it because there's never been any danger before. We're a peaceful people here. But most of us don't go out at night anyway so I was curious.

"And so I just watched her walk when she stopped and looked so badly frightened. I looked to see what it was and . . ." The uneasy man paused again to cross himself, more frantically this time, and wipe the sweat from his forehead. He stared hard at D; as if doing so would convince the dhampire of what he spoke. "I saw my daughter. Right there. Only it wasn't her. She beckoned to Suzette and hugged her, crying with happiness. And then . . .oh it was so terrible!"

"Go on," D urged.

The man began to tremble at the memory but continued. "She . . . that thing . . . took the girl's mouth. It was an odd kiss. Obscene. But Suzette wouldn't struggle. When the thing let her go she fell to the ground in a daze. And the creature wearing my daughter's face shifted . . . turned into a man. Very tall with red hair, from what I could see in the night. There was a horrible smile on his face when he looked up at me . . ."

Caruwyn's brows drew together in concern but D held his arm out to keep him from approaching the innkeeper who stood on the verge of tears.

"What happened then?" the vampire hunter asked.

"I couldn't move or speak. I was so afraid. Those eyes were awful. So full of . . . I don't know. I thought at first it was the work of a vampire. But when he walked away and I came down to see Suzette, I found no sign of assault. No wounds, no bruises, no blood. Nothing. She breathed, yes, she was alive. But she hasn't recovered from that night; doesn't speak. Just like the others."

"How many others are there?"

"Not more than twenty. But the attacks are becoming more frequent. No one has seen the red-haired man except me, though they have seen an illusion wearing the face of someone they know only to find that same person moments later. Always after that someone has fallen. It's coming for me next I know it! It saw me that night . . ." The innkeeper shuddered violently and looked pleadingly from D to Caruwyn. His eyes were large with fear. "Please say you'll help us!"

D stood unmoving, mulling the descriptions over in his mind. He had never heard of a case like this that involved no bloodshed. It was . . . peculiar. If what the man said was true, that is. "I'll have to see this victim."

Caruwyn observed the man's gratitude as it spilled from his eyes. But something was troubling him throughout the story, something familiar. The night he first saw the human race, that night in Southbridge, he had seen a strange spectacle in the ally. A girl had fallen as her mother shrieked that she remained unwounded yet alive and unable to respond. Could it possibly be linked to this case? His heart began to pound with anticipation.

The night enclosed the small city in velvety softness. Yet in the air lay a strange sense of ill boding for the shaken innkeeper. After ushering his new guests to their rooms and locking the front door to his establishment for the evening, he trudged to his room and prepared to retire. Kneeling at the foot of his bed, the prayers came easily in their usual whispered fashion when the sensation of eyes possessed him. The man unlaced his fingers and whipped his head to look behind, seeing nothing. Silence grew stifling. The candle on his bedside table snuffed out when the low murmuring voice sounded next to his ear.

"Such terrible things come from this mouth. I don't think they would taste good at all. Shall I try them anyway?"

Absolute terror held the innkeeper in place; even his lungs refused to move. The voice grew raspy, provocative and hideous all at once.

"No. For one who has seen too much I imagine a more . . . physical death would better suited. Here, allow me to embellish."

The summer night sounds of restless crickets and fluttering leaves greedily swallowed the brief cries of blood-choking agony and blissful sighs that ensued.

The following afternoon greeted the dhampire hunters with certain unease. The inn's door remained deadbolted but no one was in sight. D wore a nearly invisible look of concern as he climbed the steps to the innkeeper's rooms. When no one answered his knocks, the hunter found the door unlocked and stepped inside the hot cramped room, stopping immediately at the threshold and staring straight ahead. The scene was like that of a vivid nightmare.

Blood painted the walls and floor a grisly shade of rusty red, splashed in seemingly unnatural quantities and positions over ever the entire room as if it were sprayed with a hose. The remains of the innkeeper lay outstretched on the gore-laden bed; his mouth and eye sockets hollow where once a tongue and eyes had been. A gaping hole stood out darkly in the center of his chest and his hands were relieved of several fingers at mid-joint.

It would have appeared that a wild animal had been let loose in the room if not for the deliberate placement of the innkeeper's body. It lay on its back in the center of the bed, arms folded across its chest with a crucifix beneath, partially obscured in flaps of ripped skin. D turned and pushed Caruwyn away.

"What is it? What's in there?" the youth asked, bewildered by his mentor's action. He was being pushed back down the stairs.

"There's no need for you to see," D answered evenly though inside he was disturbed.

The albino made no protest but fear crept through him as he descended the staircase. D took the lead at their base and unbolted the inn door before stepping out into a garishly bright day.

After several inquiries to a few reluctant people, D and Caruwyn made their way to Suzette's home. The suffering parents complied to let the pair view their unmoving daughter. The girl lay staring at the ceiling from the bed, hands folded across her ribs like that of the innkeeper's corpse.

D stood in the doorway for a moment to look at her, not noticing anything obviously out of place. He approached slowly, working his eyes over her breathing body. Caruwyn followed and stood one step behind the hunter when he stopped. The young dhampire's eyes could find nothing amiss, though he didn't know quite what to look for. He did, however, feel the stirs of pity when his gaze fell to her young stony eyes.

The vampire hunter's hand reached out and grasped the girl's head to turn it toward him. He heard the parents gasp in fear as he did so but pushed it from his thoughts. The child's eyes were forced to his and D examined them. They had once been clear and blue like the sky of a summer day, but were now clouded in strange gray fog like the eyes of the blind. The fact that they had once been cerulean was only apparent in the tiny flecks among those murky clouds, the only truth D could observe within their depths. They could not see him. His hand guided her head back to stare at the ceiling and he straightened.

"What is it?" the child's mother asked desperately.

"She is lost," the Dhampire Prince said simply and turned to leave the room.

Caruwyn followed close behind, listening to the sounds of the woman's crying until they faded with the dim of the house. The hot sun fell upon them but D did not falter in step.

"Master, what did you mean? Is there no way to cure that child?" the young half-breed asked as he nearly tripped over the auburn-haired dog that followed them from the yard of the house. A whimper escaped its throat as it tagged behind the albino a few steps before turning back toward the yard.

"I don't know. She lives, yet she does not. I need to think about this."

The pair entered the inn stable and D readied his horse when the cries of horror sounded. Several people came running to the little building to slip inside, returning deathly pale and vomiting in the grass. One of the men that who had accosted them the evening before caught them in his gaze and stood staring with desperate pleading written plainly on his face before approaching the stable. Caruwyn looked in awe at the man's naked pain as he stood bravely before D, tears streaking his ruddy face and teeth gritted in anger.

"Name your price, dhampire. It's yours."

D looked at the man for a moment and a silent sigh escaped his lips. "Five hundred thousand. And if we find this creature, five hundred thousand more."

The man winced briefly. "Done."

The late sunset was a splash of gold and red over the horizon, embossing thin clouds in heavenly hue. D sat and Caruwyn paced about the inn's small lobby, waiting for darkness to claim the dying day. The young dhampire fidgeted in agitation.

"Why wouldn't you let me see it?" he finally blurted out.

D looked up at him and Caruwyn halted. They looked at each other for a long moment before the younger half-breed cast his eyes to the floor.

"I told you. It wasn't necessary," D replied.

Caruwyn grumbled and resumed his mindless pacing. He couldn't stand it. Something was very strange around there, to say the least. And the vampire hunter was doing his best to keep him in the dark. What was he thinking? At the very least he could share his thoughts. But D hardly said a word once the money had been delivered to his hands.

Now it was late and they were alone in the inn, the townspeople safely hidden behind locked doors for the night. Caruwyn threw himself into a chair and glared at D. The latter refused to acknowledge that look, which agitated the youth further. Why wouldn't D say something?!

The evening at the river seemed so far removed from him. Things had taken such a bizarre twist and just when he thought that he was progressing with that enigma he called "master". Just a matter of hours ago he was tortured by the sight of the Dhampire Prince's flawless skin and now he was thrust into bloody mayhem. He hadn't seen the innkeeper's body but he knew. He could see it in D's eyes. And it was horrible.

His skull began to throb with stress. Why couldn't they just leave and go back to their quiet solitude? They had no obligation to these humans and their problems. But D probably could never pass up the money. Or was it the prospect of fighting that he couldn't refuse? Caruwyn's ruby eyes bore harder into D's tipped head.

The crisp sound of barking in the silence hours later nearly made the youth jump from his skin. He flew from the chair and pulled the curtain discreetly from the corner of the window. The shaggy auburn-haired dog that had followed him from the girl's house was prancing playfully below a darkened house's window from which a young boy poked his head. The child opened the window wide and laughed down at the dog before crawling out to meet it.

Caruwyn smiled to himself as the young boy chased the dog in circles, laughing when the roles were reversed. Musing over the fondness he was developing for the children of the human race, the albino suddenly longed for his own childhood again. He missed his father terribly.

The young man released the curtain and moved to sit back down when a sharp startled cry pierced the air. Caruwyn rounded back to the window, throwing aside the curtain without hesitation. D was by his side in an instant.

The dog blurred and shifted before their eyes and in its place was a tall man with red hair, holding the young squealing boy captive in his arms. His lips silenced cries of fear as they pressed tightly over the child's. Fingers entwined brutally in the boy's hair and the youth failed to struggle.

Caruwyn reacted first. The door of the inn was flung open and his sword was drawn all at once as he bolted for the figure. He didn't hear D's protests. Silver caught the moonlight as the albino's sword slashed through the air straight for the kneeling man's neck. There was no connection. The young dhampire scanned the area: below him laid the young boy with glazed eyes, immobile, but the stranger was gone. Caruwyn ducked and rolled instinctively, narrowly missing the sharp claws fixed to long fingers that swooped for his skull. The albino's face twisted in fury as he stood and plunged his weapon for the tall man's stomach.

D stood just outside the inn, watching. Caruwyn was doing rather well for himself and he felt no need to interfere. Just yet. His opponent matched the physical description of the late innkeeper fairly well and he had no doubts that this was the one responsible. Yet there was a sickening air of madness issuing from the man, like that of one who revels in things of unholy pain and suffering. There were blessedly few he had encountered over his long years that possessed it. But this one was stronger, unpredictable. D stood tense and ready to jump in at any moment.

"The kid's gone berserk, D. Should he be fighting so soon?" the parasite asked but the hunter remained quiet.

Caruwyn ducked the deadly claws and furrowed his brow at the obscene laughter the man was making.

"How utterly delightful! You fight well!" the auburn-haired man cried as he spun away from his attacker's weapon.

Caruwyn growled and lunged again.

"I shall enjoy you slowly, swordsman." The red-haired man licked his lips at the young half-breed and laughed malignantly before taking the offensive.

The sharp claws slashed a clean tear in Caruwyn's weaponless arm. In the failing light it was difficult to see but his senses moved with his instincts, guiding him. In blinding speed, the albino recovered, swirled with his sword and lunged, nicking the red-haired man in the ribs. Clutching his bleeding side, the man stooped and emitted a groan, which quickly returned to hideous laughter. Caruwyn took the opportunity wisely and impaled his sword straight through the man's chest.

Blood flowed from mouth and wound in torrents before the attention of the man focused directly on the albino's face. Dull silver rays of moonlight pierced the clouds and encased the fighters.

Caruwyn studied the man on his blade. Hair that nearly matched the deep hue of his blood fell straight to brush his well-proportioned chin below a surprisingly handsome face. The madness in his inky black eyes lifted as they stared at the albino. Caruwyn met them and the man smiled with sheer wonder. Neither noticed when D moved toward them and stood close.

"Niveus erus. . . hic est niveus princeps!" the man cried through a blood-filled mouth while smiling broadly at Caruwyn. Tears streaked from his ebony eyes as they gazed in wild amazement at the albino. His hands lifted weakly to touch the pale young man's face in profound care before falling slack. Head and body soon followed, sagging heavily on the youth's sword. The dark eyes that dazzled with rapture dimmed with death.

Caruwyn yanked the blade from the shapeshifter's body, staring wide-eyed and breathing deeply. The reality of the situation was floating somewhere over his head, unreachable. He had killed another. The remorse and horror that came with such an act was present even for this villain. But what in the world caused such a reaction in this one? He didn't know what those last words meant but he knew they were for him. They stirred something within, though he could not tell what. The sight of the blood led him to believe it was the nauseous dizziness playing with his head.

D laid a hand on the youth's shoulder. "Are you all right?"

Caruwyn looked to the vampire hunter with eyes large with uncertainty above blood-splattered cheeks. The garish contrast was startling. D eased an arm around the traumatized youth and led him toward the inn.

"What did I do?" the albino whispered.

"You did very well," the vampire hunter assured him.

"He said something to me. Did you hear it, master?"

"Yes."

"What did it mean?" Caruwyn looked up with worry at D's face for any sign of understanding but only saw hesitation.

"I don't know."

The youth bit his lower lip and turned his eyes to the ground. His nerves were standing on end, disturbing thoughts plaguing his mind. Did that man really recognize him or were those words just nonsense from one staring into the face of death? He would not sleep much tonight, of that at least he was certain.

D guided Caruwyn back inside the inn to rest before collecting the remaining funds in the morning. The townspeople would not be happy about the knowledge that their friends and kin could not be cured. But at least the threat was gone. D still had no clues as to what the creature was, but it was apparent that its source for gaining sustenance was from the mouths of its victims. And when it was over, their lives had been stolen. That young girl's eyes told the story. Her spirit was separated from body, fated to wander forever in whatever place it was taken. D knew that there was no hope for her. For what body has any purpose without its soul?

Perhaps he would escape for a while to examine the corpse once he unloaded the distraught youth braced on his arm.

But even more disturbing than the nature of the red-haired man was how he had looked at and what he had spoken to Caruwyn. Strange as it sounded, the message was either an important clue or the ranting of a madman. Somehow it seemed that the latter was not the answer. Regardless, he couldn't say anything to Caruwyn. And he didn't think he would ever mention it.

D had understood the words.

The White Prince has come.

To be continued . . .

Author's Note: Well my Latin's not very good so I apologize to anyone who knows it and if I used it wrong. But it's close enough at least.