Ragweed: BEHOLD! I've returned! I am SO SORRY! Okay, everyone who has been reading this story…I went off to boarding school on the 8th of September. Not boot camp-like boarding school, an actual school, school. I'm so sorry that I haven't updated in so long. It's been nearly half a year! From know one, I will be able to keep updating the story, but it I'm sorry it took me so long to get this chapter up. Thank you everyone for you patience!
But, reviews first. Freak Goddess of the Crypt: Whoa! That's actually quite close to what I was planning. And don't worry, no ideas go un-wasted, inspiration is wonderful! Verona: You flatter me too much, but I like it anyway so keep it up…please? And um…I just noticed that…Eldan…Elladan. (rams head into wall) Dammit! I didn't even realize that until right now. Stupid me. Oh and MSJ, Elladan and Elrohir were Elrond's twin sons, Arwen's brothers and Aragorn's foster brothers since Aragorn was 'raised in the house of Elrond' I think that's the exact quote from the book. Yeah, something like that. But enough Lord of the Rings, on to the chapter….
Crimson-Stained Shards of Memory
Chapter 10: All For the End
'Sometimes I remember
The darkness of my past,
Bringing back these memories,
I wish I didn't have,
Sometimes I think of letting go,
And never looking back,
And never moving forward so,
There would never be a past,"--Easier to Run Linkin Park
.:I:.
Consciousness returned slowly to Dracula and it took awhile for the vampire to awaken entirely. For a while, it seemed as though his mind was completely separated from his body, floating along the air on a breeze like a wisp of mist. After a while, some form of tangible sense came back to the vampire. Even though Dracula didn't require air to live, the vampire inhaled deeply as the sleepy veil slipped of his motionless body. Allowing his cold blood a moment to begin to churn in his veins, Dracula slowly opened his eyes to survey his surroundings. It was, at once, obvious he had been moved for his could feel a stone wall against this back, keeping him sitting up. He was sitting in a dark hallway, sunlight flooded in from other halls sprouting from the main one, but none of the light had crept close enough to bother him. As his heat-seeking eyes soon became adjusted to the darkness once more, Dracula soon realized that the two Royal Wolves, Réhabah and Jahul, that had come into the old castle the night before were no where to be seen or heard. But there was a sizable amount of wolf-hair and lingering body-heat on the on the surrounding floor suggested they had been here not a few moments before.
Letting out a deep breath Dracula pondered on what he was to do next. The voice that had been visiting him rather frequently now had told him to simply remain in the fortress until Gabriel arrived. And that, to him, made little sense. But something buried deep within in his mind told him it would be easier to simple succumb to the commands of the voice. It was easier then fighting it. Besides, where would he go, what would he do?
Kill Gabriel; make him finally pay for what he did. Make him suffer as you did.
The idea brought a sinister smile to the vampire's fanged mouth but it was idea old and worn and even now, after he'd been defeated twice by Gabriel, seemed to have little, if any, point to it. Everything seemed that way now. Life always has meaning, some objective or goal you wanted to reach before you die; but once you die and are force to live again, the world becomes grey and hazy and minutes slip by like hours, while hours flying by like minutes and deep among it all, Dracula sat, nothingness infecting his mind. Perhaps if he just lay hear long enough, he would simply vanish from time and space as if he never was and never had been. Perhaps if he didn't feed when Réhabah and Jahul brought another victim to him, he would waste away to nothing. Dracula sighed again. He liked that idea.
It was only moments later the wolves returned. How they got into the castle Dracula couldn't guess. But the castle was old and walls and pipes of it had many cracks and holes big enough for them to squeeze through. Jahul, the smaller of the two, had blood and froth on his massive red jaws and Réhabah carried a dead woman by the throat, blood staining his chest and face. Heavy padded footfalls echoed on the stone on the Great Hall before the wolves emerged into the hallway where Dracula had still not moved from. The vampire felt ridiculously weak and found it hard to pull himself off of the cold stone wall. Why did he feel so sapped of energy and strength? The wolf's came beside him, panting and their shaggy coats covered in sweat. Yellow eyes were wide. Snow and ice encased their fur. Their breath showed in misted clouds on the air with red tongues lolling out in-between white teeth.
Réhabah tossed the bleeding woman at Dracula's feet with a swing of his powerful neck. Blood smeared along the floor, still warm, for the wolves had run fast to make sure that it was still warm for their master when they returned. But to their surprise Dracula made no attempt to move. All was silent for a moment and worried maybe that their master had fallen so far that he hadn't even noticed them, Jahul nosed the bleeding carcass towards the vampire slightly.
Dully, Dracula sensed the warm crimson pouring out around the stone floor. The sight of blood caused a dwindling fire inside of Dracula to blaze weakly with hunger, but the vampire simply shook his head to the wolves. Even though a burning hunger in his body craved for the blood that was now being spilt so carelessly over the cold stone floor, he knew that it was prolonging what he only wanted right now. Death. True death. A death he'd never experience. The massive wolves whined slightly and Jahul rubbed his grey head against Dracula's shoulder, but the vampire still made no movement.
The corpse at their feet was now going cold and blood had pooled around the wolf's paws. Not knowing what had happened to their master or why he refused to feed, the Royal Wolves lay down on either side of their master whimpering softly as dogs do sometimes. Thick but soft fur warmed Dracula slightly, but he was too far fallen and covered in darkness to really take notice such things anymore.
Suddenly, Dracula was finding it hard to keep his eyes open, or keep consciousness about him and a cold darkness was creeping in to the corners of his eyesight. Warmth seeped out of the wolf's bodies and into his own, but it had a different effect the before. The warmth didn't seem to fill him and bring him the sense of false life. Tired he was, but not like before, not like the other times. This would be the last time, of that Dracula was sure. It was the end, but, surprisingly, he didn't care. Nothing was important anymore. Hope and light had long since vanished, gone like a brittle, curled leaf on autumnal winds. All he wanted was sleep. A sleep undisturbed.
A sleep to darkness.
A sleep to join the Great Goddess in the Summerland.
A sleep that he would never awake from.
Sleep…
.:I:.
"Why is it where ever you drag me off to, it's always cold," chimed Carl suddenly breaking a long silence that had settled in the air of the mountains. The friar shuddered for effect as he and Gabriel rode slowly through a snow-laden forest on the slope of the Carpathians. "Why can't there ever be any evil demons that need vanquishing in Malta?"
"And what do you know about Malta?" asked Gabriel as their horses crunched along through the snowy woods.
"I know that the Mediterranean is warmer then these dreary mountain peaks. Sunnier too." The little friar craned his neck back to gaze at the sky. Thick, pale grey clouds were smeared like paint across the sky.
"Well, I'll remind you, Carl, that you were the one who came out here of your own free will," Gabriel raised an eyebrow and smirked at his friend.
"Only to save a certain someone's skin!"
Gabriel was about to reply, when he felt something cold and wet fall onto his hand. He raised his hand from its grip on the reins and examined it. A drop of cold water landed on the back of his hand. He looked back up at the sky and held out a hand, testing the air. Tiny needle-like raindrops fell from the sky. Sparse at first, but slowly were beginning to strengthen. The painted clouds above them seemed to be darkening as the rain began to fall harder. A storm was coming.
"Rain," said Carl blankly. "How appropriate."
And rain it did. Lightly at first, steadily building and slowing in a rhythmic downfall, but then in blinding sheets. Lightning would break the sky at harsh and jagged angles and thunder would sweep through the forest, shaking the trees to their gnarled, frozen roots. In an attempt to find what little refuge they could, Carl and Gabriel's luck took a surprisingly good turn. When they were walking along, huddling close to a cliff face for some form of shelter, the two stumbled upon a shallow cave in the cliff face. They quickly ducked in, both soaking and brought the horses in as well, for the cave was big enough for them and the burdened beasts were weary and wet.
Carl sank down against the curved wall of the cave, looking around and observing the small hole. "Why is it that everywhere we go, it's dark and cold?"
"Didn't we have this conversation before the storm?"
"I'm serious! Why is it that the sun hides from us where ever we go? And why can't we ever stay in a normal building?"
"Would the Taj Mahal be more suitable Lord Carl?" Gabriel said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he untied two bedrolls from the horses.
The little friar's eyes lit up at the thought, "Actually, it quite would be!"
If looks could kill Carl would be dead five times over with the glare Gabriel shot at him from the other side of cave. The friar quickly shut up.
Gabriel tossed Carl his bedroll with a substantial amount of force. Clumsily, Carl caught it and unrolled on the rocky floor of the cave. Outside, rain and lighting continued to pound the now feeble-seeming mountains. Water dripped from the mouth of the cave and collected in snowy, muddy, pools at the entrance. Carl frowned, it didn't seem like the storm would be letting up any time soon, if anything, it seemed to be growing stronger.
"We should get some sleep. We'll be leaving as soon as the rain eases up," said Gabriel, laying down with his coat spread out over him. Carl just nodded and lay down to sleep. The monotonous drumming of the rain was soothing spare the blast of lightning that broke the pounding every so often. But Gabriel lay awake for some time. Worried to fall asleep. If he fell asleep, would the dreams return? He shuddered at the thought. Terrible dreams that he could remember, and yet, the thought of them made his blood chill and his mind throb. Not for the first time he questioned the whole sanity of what he was doing. It seemed so foolish when one stepped back to look at it. What was he chasing, what was making him continue onward like this? It seemed like madness.
Just go to sleep…
.:I:.
"So what are you going to tell, Vlad?"
"The same thing I told you," replied Eldan, flipping quickly through the parchments on his desk. "I think he will understand better then anyone."
Gabriel rubbed his hand over his face, "I still think you're mad."
Eldan shrugged, "Perhaps I am. But if I am right, then more then my sanity is in threat."
"You really do believe in these…werewolves?"
"Right now, yes."
Gabriel sighed and peered over Eldan's shoulder, "What are you looking for?"
"That book that you had the other night, the one with the painting in it." That moment Eldan snatched a leather-bound book with brown, dried parchment pages. "This is it."
Gabriel sighed and turned his gaze out to the window of the healing room. The valley outside was still blanketed in thick snow, "Has Vlad returned yet?"
"The sentries at the edge of the valley said they'd spotted the hunting part, so any minute I would guess."
As if on cue, there was a loud, harsh knock on the wooden door to the healing ward. A guard came in without waiting for an answer, his face, set and stern. Like all of those in the Guard of the Dragon, he carried a pike and was clad in black garments trimmed with silver. The symbol of the Dragon was emblemized in silver on his black cloak, leather wings flared and it reptilian face caught in a menacing roar.
"You two," he barked, pointing his pike at Eldan and Gabriel, "come with me."
"Why?" said Gabriel, not partial to the guard's orders. Watching the Guard carefully, Gabriel placed himself between Eldan and the Guard, knowing how they did not treat the healer well. "Where are we going? What do you want us for?"
"Orders from the Dragon," barked the guard, harsher then before, "Now come. Your friend too."
With a glare, Gabriel stepped outside, Eldan, head-hung, close behind him. The guard shoved them both forward to get them to start walking. Gabriel glared at him again like a dog about to jump something, but Eldan kept his head low and simply followed Gabriel to where the guard was leading them to.
They were led to grand hall which was also the throne room of the manor. Most of the manor's guards were present all dressed in the formal uniform of the Dragon. Gabriel's eyes quickly singled out those who he didn't recognize: several guards of a different crest than the manors as well as what appeared to be several slaves of that house. But the most eye-catching of the new visitors was seated next to Vlad. There was Vlad dressed in all his regal glory, beside him sat a young woman that neither Gabriel nor Eldan recognized. She was pale, even for Transylvanians. Her skin resembled snow, fair, like that of Eldan's but not so thin and as sickly as his. Her hair was dark and long, but tied up tightly in a ring of braids behind her head. Two large, glossy eyes were set in her smooth face and as she inclined her head to stare at the two men, a streak of deceit lay buried in her gaze that neither Gabriel nor Eldan was sure they saw.
"Gabriel," Vlad began, not allowing for further visual inspection of the woman, "I'm assuming you're aware of Countess Yelvain. She's the daughter of a wealthy Ottoman Count, one very involved in the campaigns against the Christians in Europe. She and her father are visiting concerning matters on the pending war. These Europeans are threatening war on the Ottomans, Transylvanian is all that separates these two empires and it is no small secret we haven't the army to defend ourselves if the Christians do start an invasion. I hope you and Eldan will do everything to make sure she is comfortable during her visit."
There was a thick silence that filled the room, then the Countess cocked her head over to face Vlad, "That one, the one you called Eldan, why is he so sickly looking?"
Eldan's cheeks flushed with blood and he tipped his chin to his chest to let his long white hair drip in front of his face. The Lady Yelvain laughed softly staring at the young healer with an intensity that made the albino tremble with discomfiture.
But before Vlad had an opportunity to answer the Countess, Gabriel spoke, seeing Eldan's loss of composure. Though he hadn't the slightest idea as to the campaign of which Vlad spoke—he new of the war, but was unaware of anything so close at hand—he kept his tone formal with his friend for the guests in the room, "I'm aware of the Christian's intentions. They're threatening to slaughter Transylvania unless we join their cause. How does this relate to me?"
Vlad's mouth curved into a sadistic smile and his black eyes mirrored the deceit in Countess Yelvain's, "All in good time Gabriel." He quickly shifted the subject to his visitors. "Guests, I wish you all a wonderful night's rest, in the morning we will speak more of this campaign and discuss specifics." And with that, he dismissed all in the room, and before either Gabriel or Eldan could follow, he took the Countess's hand and led her from the room. Gabriel, thoroughly confused, moved through the bustle of the crowd to follow Vlad but was stopped short by the guard who'd fetched him.
"You're not leaving, the Dragon has requested that you meet him." he growled.
"I have more important things to do then be subject to your orders." Gabriel scowled, he was not intent on go anywhere. "Get out of my way."
The guard seemed about to answer in the most unkind fashion, but something clicked in his mind. The burly man turned his attention away as if he'd forgotten something. Quickly he turned and spotted Eldan and cursed loudly. Slipping through the dispersing crowd the guard shoved the frail man against the stone wall, grabbed a handful of white hair and dragged him from the room. Gabriel stood shocked for a moment as the last of the people left the large hall, then quickly went after Eldan and the guard down the hall. As Gabriel closed the gap he felt his blood boil with ferocity. Without word, he tore Eldan from the guard's grasp.
Instantly he realized the stupidity in what he'd done. A hard, blunt slam hit the back of his head and he blacked out for a moment, crumpling to the floor. In the back of his mind, he could hear the guard's voice cursing at him, as he were far away, then kicked him sharply in the ribs and was gone. Blackness enclosed him and he could only make out dark shadows and patches of light. Taking in a breath, Gabriel tried to rise but a thin pain in his side made him catch his breath.
Vision still compensated, Gabriel felt a thin hand slide over his shoulder, "Gabriel?" the voice was Eldan's and it seemed closer this time. "Gabriel, can you stand?"
The only response the albino received was Gabriel struggling to his feet. The Christian wavered, but did not fall this time.
"He didn't hit your arm did he?" asked Eldan, knowing Gabriel's arm had only just healed.
"No, I think it's fine." Gabriel's vision finally cleared, "Are you alright, Eldan."
The healer tried to laugh, "A few lost hairs, nothing really."
"Good."
More silence settled into the space between them.
Eldan broke it first, "Should we find Vlad?"
"Not now, probably not until tomorrow or at least until we can speak to him without the Ottoman's especially the Countess."
"Do you think that's what the 'hunting trip' was?"
"Most likely. It was probably a cover; the better part of the nation would be less than amused to learn that there was a treaty in the works with the Ottomans. But you think that Vlad would have trusted us more than to lie to us."
"Do you think it was wise to invite them here?"
Gabriel shook his head and shrugged, "It certainly seems like insanity, but we both know that Vlad must have something deeper in the works. He wouldn't be so naïve as to open the doors for the Ottoman Muslims to overtake us. We are the only thing that stands between them and Europe. He wouldn't give that power away so easily."
Eldan's looked shifted to something distant, his mind was clearly far off, "A war seems the only option, but I keep going over it in my mind and no matter who would win this war, it seems the end for our nation. If we side with the Ottomans and fight against the Christians, I doubt they will not attempt to over through us once they are in control. They disapproved of our beliefs; we'd all be sold as slaves to the East. And if the Christians defeat the Ottoman's, then we will all be tried as heathens and crucified." At this, Eldan pushed his hair behind his ear, revealing a partially-healed bruise on his jawline and hugged his arms to his stomach. Gabriel grimaced inwardly, despite being so fragile physically and shy, Gabriel often forgot how strong the healer was in mind. The thoughts of war were something Gabriel rather let be, but Eldan did not shy away from such cruel thoughts.
He must know nothing else, thought Gabriel sadly.
Running a hand through his long hair, Eldan touched his forehead, then his heart and muttered, "Goddess protect."
Gabriel smiled, "Come on, lets get outside, I'm going stir-crazy stuck in here for three weeks.
Eldan forced a smile, "Alright, no injuries though, lets see if you can stay in one piece for a day or two. I am a mere human, not a miracle worker."
Ragweed: Hey, sorry if this chapter is not the best, but I needed to finish it. I promise, promise, promise, I will update better form now one.
Blesses be and peace out!
