Chapter 11: The Warning of a Madman
2004 A.D.
Two years later…
With a drowsy yawn, Lucian sat up again, squinting groggily about the reeds and riverbed. Unconsciously, he wiped his face with the back of his hand, trying to banish the sleep which had overtaken him. Janos would be furious if he returned late from his chores… But nervously, he studied his surroundings, trying to ascertain how much time had passed. The mist had not changed. The sun had not moved in its path. And no doubt he had only dosed for several minutes…
His gaze even turned to the tiny willow tree rooting itself upon the ground where his firewood had once lain. His bone pipe now weathered in mud…
…and again, as if by rote, the words sounded off in his memory, too practiced to be true, yet all he could remember as he continued staring at the roots lined along the shining causeway…
"I am seventeen years of age…and Janos has already informed me of my fate, taking me aside during…"
Abruptly, the sound of a stork interrupted his reverie…and turning his head slightly, Lucian sighted the creature nervously searching beside the water's edge. All thought of rivers and fate flew from his brain, and hungrily, he licked his teeth, knowing he had not eaten for several hours…or was it days? And easing himself to his front, he began to stalk the creature, silently padding through the reeds which seemed to turn from his passing as he willed it. For a brief moment, he even contemplated that this riverbank might be his and the water, reeds, and all the creatures about him merely existed as he willed them…but the moment passed, and soon after, any notion that his surroundings might not be real left his conscience.
Almost upon the stork, he silently felt his nails growing to a point, and without hesitation, caught the creature's neck in his grip, twisting it about to face…
…only to realize he held the neck…of a mortal.
The stork had disappeared.
"What do you here?" he asked suspiciously, eying the dark-haired man who struggled between his talons. His hair was cut strangely…and the smell…
…he smelled of lycan.
"H-help me…" the mortal gasped, clawing at Lucian's grime-ridden nails…unwary of asking this river…demon…for help just so he might flee whatever it was that chased him.
Vaguely unsettled, Lucian's forehead scrunched into a frown, certain this poor soul must be addled in the brain. He had never been asked for help by a mortal. Even far off villagers knew the stories…and any fool enough to venture near Viktor's lands knew full well to steer clear of the river. Perhaps it might be better to release him. Better to go hungry than eat tainted food…
"Please…" whispered the man, creasing his eyes...verging on tears, yet trying with all his might to look behind him. Trying to flee something worse than a lycan… "I almost fell in the river. I cannot…reach the other side, and yet she's coming…don't you understand, demon? She'll be here any minute and…"
Abruptly, the mortal cut himself off…
His eyes began to widen, as he really saw his captor for the first time. His tongue gaping and lost for words as something broken in his terrified brain clicked, and almost spluttering, he managed to utter…
"Y-you are…" He spluttered again…
"Y-y-you are…"
Lucian growled. "I am…I am…speak, mortal, I grow old…"
"Y-you are…L-Lucian."
"I am." The lycan agreed with a frown, displeased that his name had traveled beyond the keep. Secrecy was the key to the vampire's safety, and if this madman knew a lowly slave by name, something was strongly amiss in the house of Viktor…
"But you're so…y-you're so…"
"I'm sooo…" coaxed Lucian, slightly losing his patience with this lunatic, but realizing only time could aid speech impediments.
"You're so," the mortal squinted his eyes, and then…looking up and down, managed to utter lamely… "…young."
"Young?" Lucian glowered, severely offended and tightening his grip on the mortal's throat. One minute he was too old for childish things and must breed for the vampire masters, and the next his breakfast was sizing him up. He sniffed again, a bit baffled by the scent of lycan on this man. He couldn't be more than…five and twenty…and contaminated. Definitely not worth it…
He dropped the madman to the ground, now intent on finding other (more hygienic) means of satisfying his ravenous appetite. Immediately, spying a line of deer tracks that did not exist ten seconds ago, Lucian bowed his departure to the strange man and turned towards the wood.
"Wait!" cried the man, now on his knees and crawling after the lycan.
Not caring to slow his pace down, Lucian strode from the river past undergrowth, reeds, heather, and trees, his deep, melodious voice brushing off the man's words… "Talk to me in about two hundred years, mortal…perhaps my age will have ripened by then."
Hastening his pace, the man stumbled after the lycan. "Sir! Lucian! Please, sir…please just wait a minute…I did not mean to offend…"
Lucian halted, swiftly turning to eye his stalker, the words coming out in the growl of one who had not yet learned to fully harness his anger. "Begone! The only thing halting my teeth is your palpable madness, and though your address is flattering, judging by my 'childish' age, I am no knight, and I guarantee you, I have no need for a page." He bit his teeth at the man for good measure and turned…
…only to find the man had swung his arms about the base of one of Lucian's ankles.
Oh, pox on your mother's pelt, thought the groaning lycan. He might have to murder this mortal after all…
"Get off!" he snarled.
"But sir…"
"I am not a knight, you fool!"
"But I've been sent to…"
"OFF!" roared the lycan, baring his teeth and raising his hackles against the mortal who dared accost a living, breathing werewolf.
And as if burned, the dark-haired man immediately let go of Lucian's ankle, the rest of him cowering upon the forest floor, but remaining bowed as if before a pack leader. Pushed beyond his breaking point, the young Lucian took the submissive stance to be another sign of madness and began growling as he backed away…
"If there is any sense left in your mind, mortal," he hissed, stepping across branches, his storm-ridden eyes lined into slits. "…I suggest you heed my words, and flee this place. You might escape with your life this time, but let my age not fool you. I am lycan," he growled. "…and I will tear you to pieces the next time you walk upon this path. Tainted meat or not…"
Please, by the blood of Viktor's veins, let me be rid of this fanatic, thought Lucian, reluctant to kill a meal after he had spoken to it for a full ten minutes…
But the man merely shook his head bitterly towards the ground…
…and looking up, disconcertingly, began to smile. A sad and desperate smile. And then laughter. Horrifying laughter, even to the ears of one who had seen seventeen years of blood and full moons. The scent of lycan beginning to grow upon the mortal's person, as with shock, Lucian realized the dark-haired man had acquired a set of pearly white, sharpened wolf teeth. Still bowed upon the ground, the man…the lycan in human form…whose eyes now gleamed white and whose talons now held purchase upon roots, licked his lips…still laughing now and again…before speaking in the ancient tongue of seekers…
"I bring you a warning, Lucian…and though you must not remember nor wake, the one who would steal your broken memories comes with the night. She seeks to pass the silver river and searches for the pattern of Gode, her vengeful teeth eager for ancient blood and souls. You are lost upon the paths, and for this, I apologize. I should have been more careful. But heed my words, Lucian…with the blood of Gode, this creature seeks to…"
And sharply gazing up at the shocked youth, the dark-haired lycan hissed the last words…
"...Milord, she seeks to end…life…immortals…everything! You must understand, sire…she of the cinders…the thief who comes in your midst! She is the end of life itself! And I beseech you, sire…keep the pattern and the key…trust no one…"
Breaking off, he gulped, catching a sob and punching the ground with one fist as if to hold back his sorrow. Unbeknownst to Lucian, the Change had already begun to die down and within minutes, the talons upon the dark-haired lycan would transform back into the blunt nails of a mortal hand. He would lose his chance. Biting back his tears, the struggling lycan got wearily to his feet, and looked Lucian in the eye…
"…trust not even myself." He whispered.
The words were spoken hoarsely, as if hope itself had abandoned the stranger's den. And indeed, the stranger was only too aware of what awaited Lucian had he continued to listen to the seemingly helpless babbling mortal…the possessed creature that sought to cling so desperately to a lycan's person, but in truth, aided a vengeful enemy who simply wanted to cross the silver waters on a lycan's back…
…and turning towards the river, the dark-haired lycan spoke again, the tears finally deigning to show in his hunted eyes…
"She sliced me in twain and thinks to use my mortal side. Even now, Lucian…she thinks to use my voice. She struggles, trying to charm and desperate to eat your memories. And though I would have served you to the grave, sire...traitor am I. Invader, she comes. And now, there is no more time."
Abruptly shaking his head as if waking from a dream, Lucian swallowed, his words and thoughts cut in half by the sudden transformation of this helpless mortal…his eyes still formed into slits…his youthful mind terrified by this stork-demon, but unwilling to show fear. The makings of a true lycan master…
"Who are you!" the shocked youth managed to growl, snapping his teeth finally.
But the strange lycan only smiled wanly in answer, vaguely pleased at the forceful innocence of this lycan master whose memories had ceased before ever he reached the fortress of Viktor. And, in truth, a semblance of communication with the blood-soul of Lucian was more than could be asked for…and enough perhaps to change the tides. Although he regretted having to burn words upon a lycan master's soul memories…
…but no time.
Already, he felt the lunatic mortal trying to break free and his wolf's blood howling as it sensed the trap descending...and Cinder trying to assume control of his split and maddened senses once more. Aware of what he must now do, the stranger faced his former master and bowed at the waist, lowering his head in deference. It was time to be gone before she came through his blood. Time to be gone before night had a chance to fall over this eternal daylight…
"I asked you a question, spirit," snarled Lucian again, his hackles fully raised as he adopted the threatening stance of an alpha ready to tear another's body limb from limb…
"Ambrose, sir…" answered the dark-haired lycan sorrowfully. "…I am Ambrose."
Without another word, he pelted off into the forest towards the silver river, smashing through the undergrowth, branches, and trails. Swiftly, Lucian tore after him, running to catch up with this strange lycan just as they met water, where crashing against the bank, the chasing youth grasped the stranger's arm, only to find a stork beating its wings madly against the silver water, thrusting itself beyond his reach and flying beneath the shining waters. The river swallowed the creature, and Lucian, standing in water up to his waist, was alone once more.
But even as he searched the waters frantically, dashing his fingers along and through the waters in a rage, the mist began soothing his tempestuous person…
And almost as in a daze, his eyes lost their focus…
Small ripples…
Suddenly exhausted, Lucian relaxed his posture and stepped back towards the shore, trying to sort out this strange sense of what lay about him. And immediately and for the third time that…day…as if by rote, the words sounded off in his memory, too practiced to be true, yet all he could remember as he stared vacantly through the haze…
"I am seventeen years of age…and Janos has already informed me of my fate, taking me aside during the noontime meal not two days past. Come new moon, I am to be carted off to the breeding grounds of Viktor…"
Rolling onto his back, the long-haired lycan closed his weary eyes and dropped himself back into the mud…his breath coming to a slow rest. The growing willow, now reaching towards the waters, lying abandoned to his right as a not-so-constant reminder that, in truth...
...time continued to pass…