Dissolution of Arms
By Eerie
Chapter Fourteen: Awakening
Though the sunset cast the land in wondrous color, the village itself appeared like a deep dark shadow within the shallow valley. Caruwyn strode stealthily toward it, thankful for the black garments that he wore. Once night fell upon the Earth he would have to remain unseen, for he doubted the people of Southbridge had forgotten him.
Tall grasses swiped his shins as he walked, the gate to the poor village growing nearer. Throughout his journey back to this place, Caruwyn was tempted several times to turn back and find D. But his pride was wounded and seeing the dark man's face would probably just bring him anguish. No, he had to remain firm in his resolution. D had said that he learned his lessons quickly so there were technically no more reasons to stay, or so Caruwyn convinced himself. Inside that wound was bleeding yet, but his conviction and stubborn will masked it well. D was better off without him.
The crimson sun slipped behind the hills as he stepped up to the gate. A few stray, newly shorn sheep bleated weakly at him before lumbering in search of new grass to graze on. Caruwyn studied the scenery, noting only a few people milling through the narrow streets ahead. Bending down, the albino grasped the bottom of his long coat. With a few quick tears, he pulled a large strip of the dark material away and began to wind it about the lower portion of his face. When only his eyes remained visible, he tugged a strand of white hair out and placed his hood up over his head to complete the guise. No sense in taking chances.
Cautiously, he strolled up the path, taking up a limp as he went. From a distance the onlookers would see a well-traveled man of age. Caruwyn, careful to keep his eyes averted, nodded slightly to a man and woman who had paused their conversation to gaze at him. Satisfied that the stranger was of no threat, they resumed their business. The albino smiled to himself beneath his windings and limped toward Smipole's inn. There was no one outside the inn when he stopped, though he chanced a look in all directions to make sure. With a great breath he pulled the old wooden doors apart and stepped inside.
To his relief, Smipole was not there to greet him this time. Standing in the doorway, Caruwyn studied the room, its few lazy occupants barely taking notice of him. Manx was not among them. The albino edged slowly toward the front counter and tapped the silver bell there. A young girl of about fifteen emerged from the back room, wiping her hands on her apron. A smile lit up her face.
"I'd like a room please," Caruwyn muttered and dropped ten copper pieces onto the counter.
The girl's face crunched in confusion and she tilted her head to look at him, surprised at the voice that was younger than she had expected. But the dhampire kept his head lowered.
"Yessir. This way." She stepped from behind the counter and led him toward a small staircase. Caruwyn followed, stealing glimpses left and right as they went.
The girl unlocked the room and pushed the door open for him, saying, "If you be needin' anything, you just ask, k?"
"Thank you," the half-breed replied and strode toward the window, pretending to be searching for something below. As the girl turned to leave, he chanced a question. "Have you seen a tall dark man wearing a black cloak around here recently?"
"Nosir. No one like that. 'Cept you, beggin yer pardon."
"Are you the daughter of the man who owns this place?"
"I am. But my father's not with us no more. He was killed last month." The girl clutched her apron tightly and stared at the floor. Though Caruwyn could not see her, he sensed her eagerness to get away from the subject, if not from him.
"I'm truly sorry to hear that. Thank you again," the half-breed said and granted her freedom. She took it quickly, clicking the door closed softly behind.
The albino stood for a few moments and gazed out the small window. The village looked deserted below, its inhabitants locked indoors with the end of daylight. Caruwyn turned from the window and began to unwind the black wrappings from his face, noticing the musty air of the room. When he was finished, the dhampire lifted the window and breathed the cool summer air deeply, wondering when the last time anyone rented this room was. The windowsill had a layer of white dust that spoke of neglect. Perhaps business had fallen since Smipole's death. The town did seem much more desolate. Caruwyn wondered if what had befallen that town where he and D came upon the shape shifter had also plagued this village. Such a notion was frightening.
The youth dropped the sash to the floor and crouched at the fireplace before striking flint to birth a flame. The dark room seemed to greet the prospects of a fire and Caruwyn remained crouched before it, watching the flames slowly eat the dry wood as they grew. Unfastening his long coat, he pulled his sword from its sheath before studying it in the orange light. Though he had cleaned the blood away the moment he had the chance, it seemed to be stained deeply in the rotten crimson color, mocking him.
Disgusted and angry, Caruwyn heaved the blade aside. It clattered against the wall and spun noisily on the floor though he paid the disturbance little mind. He was about to sink into the heat and hypnotizing dance of the flames when a voice from the corner behind him spoke softly.
"I wasn't sure if you'd come."
The albino spun on the balls of his feet, throwing his hands out before him to brace against toppling over in surprise. The corner from which the voice issued was dark though he could sense a presence there. Had the stranger been there the entire time? Caruwyn felt foolish for letting his guard down.
"Who is it?" the half-breed called to the shadows.
A movement in the darkness gave way to a foot as the man stepped forward. When the firelight finally revealed his face, Caruwyn gasped. A pleased smile lifted Manx's lips and bared a pair of sharpened canines.
"Caruwyn. I'm honored to see you again." The tall dark man bowed theatrically, his smile never weakening.
The dhampire stood and bowed his head in return. "I've come to pay off my debt." The same uneasy feeling he had when first meeting the strange man had returned, making the albino's defenses ready.
Manx's eyebrows rose with interest as he stepped forward. "You've learned a great deal since we last me, I dare say. You must have found a great teacher." He stopped close and gazed deep into the albino's ruby eyes. "I admit that I'm a bit envious of the man."
Though the urge to step back several paces grasped him, Caruwyn remained firmly where he was. "Indeed."
Manx reached out boldly and took a strand of the youth's white hair in his fingers, toying with it as he leaned in even closer. "Not great enough to keep you at his side?" he asked curiously. The man's long fingers dropped the hair and took the half-breed's face in its place, pulling it in for a deep kiss from his smiling lips.
Caruwyn's eyes grew large as he started. But Manx's hand held him firmly as cool lips pressed with bruising force over his mouth. He tried to struggle but found that moving was all but impossible. The kiss deepened and he was helpless to resist as the dark man's icy tongue probed his own. Caruwyn's eyes slipped shut, though it was more from the burning cold of the man's mouth than the pleasure of it. Crimson eyes began to swell with tears. As if taking this as a signal, Manx released him.
"Pity you could not have learned what he would never resist," the dark man whispered and caught a tear with his thumb.
Rage at those words swelled like hot venom in the dhampire's gut and he narrowed his eyes in defiance. The fire flickered low, threatening to die though it had just peaked to roaring. Manx's eyes lit up.
"Amazing. You have so much potential within you."
Caruwyn tried to growl a reply but found his voice would not obey him. This inflamed him further and his fangs began to grow steadily as he stood helpless in Manx's cold hands.
"Yes. That's much better." The dark man smiled wickedly and cast his eyes to the indigo jewel at the albino's breast. Delicate fingers caught and toyed with it as it glimmered in the light of the fire. "And now to honor our agreement."
Caruwyn jerked in effort to break free but found himself held fast by the man's unearthly, yet painlessly, strong grip.
Manx's grin grew feral. "Ah, you resist now, but soon you will thank me."
The stone fell back against the youth's chest as Manx pressed his mouth over Caruwyn's once again, probing mercilessly. Choking, the albino staggered heavily and attempted to push the man away with every shred of his strength, but his upraised arms began to grow tingly, refusing to obey him. Stars danced in his vision and the room seemed to lurch beneath his feet before spinning in nauseating ellipses. His eyelids sagged with sudden fatigue as the dark man's mouth continued to pull the energy from him. Black haze flocked the brilliance of the stars until the room seemed to be veiled in thick darkness and the youth longed for release. Yet when Manx pulled away, he scarcely noticed.
The tall dark man gazed down into glassy ruby eyes with an air of contentment before bending to pull the weight of Caruwyn's body fully into his arms.
"I've not hurt you, my lord. It's only temporary, but it was necessary. When you recover, you will discover strength like you have never known." Manx whispered sultrily in the barely conscious youth's ear. "And I will be there to serve you until the end. Every way I can."
The albino's still body was laid out on the bed before Manx bowed and swept his great dark cloak theatrically about himself. He prodded toward the fire, its light reflecting in his eyes like unholy emblems. His long arms guided smooth-nailed fingers in graceful arcs and swirls through the air, red trails of light blazoning. With one final silent sweep he clasped his hands together and a great hot wind blasted down the chimney's throat, tossing his long black hair high into the air. A few words of unworldly tongue were muttered from his unsmiling lips as his eyes flew open and stared defiantly into the furious flames. Hot air raged in cyclones through the room, knocking shelves and framed pictures to the floor in a clatter of splintered wood and crushed glass. His eyes grew larger as the objects flew madly. Even when a stray shard of glass swept past his fair cheekbone and left a trail of vivid red, Manx did not blink.
Aching thirst greeted Caruwyn's uneasy awakening. His fingers found his forehead and rubbed gingerly at his temples. It felt as though he had just slept for a hundred years. A dark shape caught his attention at the edge of the bed.
"Good evening," the man said politely.
Caruwyn shot upright and immediately regretted it. Pain thundered like a herd of wild cattle through his skull and the sound of its rushing tides was enough to convince him that his ears would bleed.
"Please, Caruwyn, it's best you ease into it."
The albino obeyed and slowly opened his eyes to focus. Manx sat with his customary, charming smile fit snugly on his lips, watching. Caruwyn stared at him vexingly.
"What have you done to me?" the youth asked, anger steadily rising.
"I've touched nothing more than what was waiting to be released. You might say I just sped it up a little," Manx said simply and rose.
"What are you talking about? Where's my sword?" Caruwyn sat at the edge of the bed and wavered in dizziness. A gleam of silver at his side told him that the object still lay where he had flung it earlier.
The albino reached and snatched the blade from the floor. As soon as his fingers made contact with the smooth steel, visions of blood and agony flooded his mind and he fell hard to his knees. He cried out but held the object firmly as if it were welded to his skin.
"You value so that blade which severed the head of your own father. Such a beautiful thing," Manx said almost nostalgically. "Meier. I had known him well."
The words hit like a stinging slap in the face. The visions faded and Caruwyn looked up in muted shock and disbelief.
"You knew . . . my father?" he asked dumbly.
Manx grinned. "A long time ago."
"But," the youth said, shaking his head, "how? When?"
Manx knelt down to meet the curious ruby eyes levelly. "The damned are drawn to the damned." His fingers brushed Caruwyn's chin affectionately. "You look so much like him . . . but more beautiful."
Crimson eyes were veiled in fear and curiosity alike. The dark man's smile broadened.
"It was he who made me what I am." Manx stood abruptly and wandered to the window to stare out into the twilight.
Caruwyn's grip on the hilt was painful. He had not the courage to take his eyes off the floor as Manx spoke. The fire crackled loudly.
"I was enamored with him from the very beginning. Refined, strong-willed, and as desperately lonely as any who are cursed to wander this damnable place for countless years. Our interest in one another was anything but common, given the circumstances, yet certainly not something to be taken lightly," Manx said and paused to rest his weight against his palms on the windowsill. "I am a creature of the night, as I have always been, and yet I am more. Just as you are more than a mere dhampire."
Manx turned away from the window with a start. "I was not the sole recipient of blood foreign to pure veins."
Caruwyn looked up, confused. "What are you saying?"
The dark man seemed to stand even taller, ominous in the suddenly cramped room. "Meier carried with him the blood of demons. My blood, just as his was delivered unto me. You, Caruwyn, are the first to be born with the blood of vampires, humans, and that of demons. You are special. Haven't you ever felt it when you coaxed that sleeping power of yours to the surface, if only for an instant?"
The albino shook his head in denial. "This cannot be true. He would have told me."
Manx gripped the youth's shoulder and bent to face him closely. "He did not want to believe it. He was ashamed of it, as if it soiled his already tainted blood. And then he found your mother, and in her purity believed that he could somehow redeem himself, purge himself of his own sins."
"You lie."
"It was more than her passing that drove him to ask you to deliver him to the clutches of death. He knew what you were. He feared you and hated himself for siring such a creature."
"You're lying!" Caruwyn cried furiously.
"But he was too frightened to see the magnificence in you."
"STOP THIS!"
"Why must you deny it? You have an unfathomable power bestowed in your favor. It cannot be left to fade," the demon paused to touch Caruwyn's face.
The youth flinched and slapped it away with disgust.
"By my life I will see you in your rightful place in this universe. Together, we can reopen the path to the stars and perhaps more."
"You mock me," Caruwyn growled.
"I do no such thing."
"I have not the power of which you speak. I can't do such things."
"Oh, believe me, you can. We just need the right tools," Manx said and replaced his feral grin.
"What do you mean?" the youth said dangerously, yet unable to completely conceal his confusion.
The demon's fingers found the blue stone about the youth's neck once more. "Its mate. Perhaps you know where to acquire it."
The albino was mortified at the realization. "No. I refuse. I absolutely will not—"
"Caruwyn," Manx interrupted, his friendly tone turned abruptly to commanding, "the decision has already been made. You have no choice."
With unavoidable speed and strength, Manx wrapped his caressing fingers hard over the dhampire's forehead, eyes glinting madly. Caruwyn screamed as red light filled his vision, searing his mind like hellfire. His childhood, his father's sad face, D's caring voice and the remembrance of that brave kiss flashed through his memory as if he were on the verge of death before all began to fade. He tried desperately to hold on to them, but it was no avail as blackness overcame him. He could no longer hear himself cry out, but felt a sickening sensation crawl to life within his gut. The jewel at his breast glowed brightly.
"Forgive me, my lord. But the end of the long oppression imposed on all creatures dark is far too important to be put off by your charmingly stubborn will. To you I sacrifice my own powers and fully awaken your blood. Awaken," Manx said lowly.
When Caruwyn's screaming stopped, the demon withdrew his hand and held his breath. The air grew thick with silence. The youth's head slumped down against his chest and his body grew still. For a long moment nothing happened, even the chirping of the crickets gave way to the terrible quiet.
When the albino finally stirred, Manx still held his breath; Caruwyn raised his head and slowly lifted his eyelids, a small smile taking his lips. The eyes that once burned red as fire-lit rubies now regarded him a painful shade of blue.
"My Prince," Manx breathed in rapture mixed with fatigue and lowered his head submissively.
To be continued . . .