Resignation
Time passed. Vampires died. Sarafan died. But vampiric opposition had been crippled by the disastrous battle, and now they could do little. Those few who survived did so by fleeing to remote locations inaccessible to large forces. And most Sarafan were more or less happy to see them stay there. Most in the order took the view that their goal was to protect the people, as opposed to genocide.
The vampires made occasional forays into Sarafan territory on rare occasions, but each time they were met with force and were forced to withdraw quickly. Their opportunities to feed were thus limited, their only sustenance coming from their worshippers, who simply did not contain enough blood to satisfy the entire race. The only vampire strongholds of note in the land were Vorador's, deep in treacherous forest, and Audron's. Audron, although he alone had a truly impenetrable fortress, for some reason refused to shelter others of his race, although he occasionally sent Thrall raiding parties to kidnap humans for them. Vorador sheltered as many as he could, but many refused, given the treacherous conditions around his manor, convinced he would simply betray them. In Malek's opinion, Vorador understood the need to forego petty rivalry for the sake of his race, but that seemed incomprehensible to other high vampires.
The Sarafan grew in power. The Generals eventually managed to convince the pillar guardians to limit their growth, as if they were seen to grow too powerful, the people would turn against them, leaving them with possible rebellion, and thus a platform for the vampires to stage resurgence. By definition, the Sarafan order was a crusade, not a quest for power. So recruiting parties were suspended for the present.
Vorador's manor should have been accessible, but conditions made it difficult to strike in force. Moebius convinced them that it was better to stay their hand, in order for as many vampires as possible to gather there, before they struck. Vorador was intelligent enough to be wary of the Sarafan, enough that no hunting parties were directly traceable to his home, so they did not have a pretext for a strike. It was amazing how many humans supported the parasites that preyed on them, viewing them as noble creatures cursed. Some would even volunteer to be fed from!
One particular day, Turel was sparring with three lowranking Sarafan soldiers. He had allowed them to use real blades, claiming if they could cut him he deserved to bleed. So far, the claim was justified, and his light wooden spear had disarmed two and he was bearing down on the third when the messenger arrived. That was unusual, and he found his eyes flicking to rooftops. Moebius was known to hire assassins in order to keep his army from becoming complacent, also serving the dual purpose of cutting down assassin numbers.
The messenger was summoning him to Moebius' apartments. That was unusual. They had perfectly good briefing chambers for receiving orders. If he was summoning them to his actual rooms, it meant he wanted to say something privately. Which usually meant something he'd seen in the Chronoplast portals.
Taking advantage of his distraction, the Sarafan soldier lunged, and only years of attempted assassinations allowed Turel to avoid being impaled. Impaled, not merely embarrassed. Spinning, he snapped the light staff he was using off the head of his attacker, a strike that should have been incapacitating but wasn't. The assassin drew back for a second lunge, but by this time the other two Sarafan had retrieved their blades and sank them deep into his back, into the weak points in the armour as they'd been trained. Allowing himself a brief flicker of pride –few of their rank could be expected not to hesitate in that situation-, he scanned the shadows a second time, he removed the helmet of his attacker with the two halves of the staff, revealing a face that instantly burst into flame on contact with the sunlight. A vampire? In daylight? It had long been pointed out that some helmets were easy for disguise, but it was difficult to justify to soldiers when they were fighting vampires, why they should have an unprotected throat. With good reason.
Retrieving his spear from where it was leaning nearby, he left for Moebius' apartments, leaving the corpse where it lay. The cleaning staff was well acquainted with such messes. Perhaps uniquely in any military force in history, the equipment of the cleaning staff in Sarafan fortresses included a mace. Some vampires had the irritating habit of not staying dead.
Reaching the apartments, he found the other generals, including Malek, already assembled. Conversation revealed that each had had an assassination attempt in the last three days. This caused tension, as it implied that other officers and possibly pillar guardians were in danger. Mortanius was far beyond the ability of any assassin, but the others? Even Moebius was vulnerable without his staff. And the staff was just another weapon to a non-vampire attacker. A professional thief had once stolen it, holding it to ransom for a substantial sum, which had been paid, as the Sarafan's efficiency was highly impaired without it.
Eventually, Moebius bade them to enter, damp and attended to by two beautiful female bath attendants, but fully clothed and not actually submerged. Odd how even the most powerful had vices. Understandable, perhaps. Pillar guardianship was notoriously lonely. You had to watch your children die centuries before you.
After brief greetings, Moebius did not waste time.
"I have seen something in the Chronoplast portals of interest to you. Soon, we may have the opportunity to strike at Janos Audron at last." They waited. There was more, or he would have told them that in the council chambers. "There is a high chance of success, but if we do so..." He hesitated, a nervous pause. That was interesting. He sometimes paused for dramatic effect in speeches, but seldom from nerves. "If we do so, the action will lead directly to the deaths of all of you in revenge. I cannot order you to die...but I ask it nonetheless."
Turel had not been present when Dumah and Malek had stood here not long ago, and thus was mystified by the suspicion in the glance exchanged between the two.
"How so?" Dumah's tone, like his face, was not kind. Moebius glanced up, startled by anything less than instant acquiescence.
"How so?"
"Yes, how so? How will slaying Audron lead to our deaths? Vengence? Can you not protect us with your foresight?"
"No. As the Time Streamer, I am bound not meddle with its flow. I can no more change your fate than I can mine."
"What fate?"
"Mine? To be beheaded by a vampire some five hundred years from now. Yours? To be murdered by his eldest child, who discovers a means of returning hence from some three millennia in the future."
"So...you lied to us. You told us your crusade would see the end of the vampires." All six generals were no having difficulty holding back the urge to skewer him where he stood.
"I did not lie. That same child will slay the vampire that murdered me, along with every other vampire in the land. He will set up his own empire if I let you survive, and the only way to stop him is to let him slay you. If I could see an alternative I would seize it. But history is immutable. It overrules the efforts of any to bring change. If I shielded you from the assassin, sooner or later the Timestream would bring the same circumstances to pass. Only those without knowledge and in their natural time can substantially change history. I? I may watch and manipulate, but never can I act. Never! Do you know how it feels, to long foresee disaster and be helpless? Do you? To quote the vampire who will murder me, only when you have felt the full gravity of choice should you dare question my judgement! And not even then will you know the pain of the full gravity of lack of choice, of acceptance!" Moebius was weeping now. The seven generals remained skeptical. They were talking to a man infamous for his acting.
"And why must we die?"
"Because...the child that will slay you will be one of you, resurrected as a vampire in centuries time." All seven of them lunged for him. Dumah arrived first, picking him up easily by the throat.
"You betray us...I should nail you to that wall." In a whisper, he added "For the sake of your god, Moebius? Did you not learn from the fall of the Ancients?"
"You should kill me...but you won't, and I live to regret this moment for the rest of my existence." Moebius looked defeated, and incredibly tired. Knowing it was probably a façade, Dumah was nevertheless moved. This was a man who could inspire a large group of bandits to rise and conquer innumerable clans of the most individually powerful race in existence. He threw him aside forcefully in disgust. Moebius hit the tiled wall and went limp. The two bath attendants smiled... and their pointed teeth had just time to register before each lunged for the prone form. And fell with at least two weapons through each. Both were tossed into the nearby baths before the weapons were withdrawn.
The generals exchanged glances. Vampire assassins as bath attendants? In rooms with pools of water in each? Where they would be expected to handle it? That was...idiocy, and therefore genius. It was so ridiculously unlikely to succeed that it almost had. Most soldiers...used the...
Before the thought was even finished, they were running to raise the alarm.
- - - - - - - - - -
As it played out, there were quite a few casualties. It was difficult to bring down a vampire unarmed, when your only weapon was splashing water at them. Some of the assassins were telekinetic, so underwater wasn't entirely safe, and in the confusion many drowned as they were trampled by fleeing companions. Once they organized however, the tide turned as teams of Sarafan dragged vampires underwater, taking wounds in the process but knowing that was preferable to dying. Soon only the telekinetic ones remained, and once the on duty Sarafan realized what was happening they were quickly cut down from behind.
When the officers were high ranking enough to have private baths, conditions were slightly better. Obviously, only a fraction of them were in the baths, and most of those rooms had mirrored walls, so they saw the blows coming and could dodge. Four were killed without ever knowing what had happened, and three more died struggling with the assassins. The rest were unharmed. No other pillar guardians were in a bath at the time. The assassins were killed to a (wo)man.
Although the casualties had been light, it was a severe blow to morale to see the vampires penetrating so easily. They began to see Vorador and Janos' seclusion as contempt rather than imposed fear of the Sarafan, fearing that if they so wished, they could penetrate easily. Reluctantly, the six generals recognized that they needed a boost. But would the fall of Audron outweigh the loss of their generals? He was known to terrorise Ushenstein, and was considered the most powerful of all vampires, so his death would be a massive boost. But, knowing they could die easily, the generals had ensured they were not essential to the order. And if anyone could turn a catastrophe into a triumph, it was Moebius. They were troubled.
- - - - - - - -
It became clear, later, that the vampires were resurfacing. Hunting parties launched pinprick attacks, kidnapping a handful of victims, transforming them into vampires, and sending them hunting. The Sarafan countered these as best they could, massacring most of the hunting parties, but they only consisted of perhaps five expendable fledglings, hardly worth the effort. The pinpricks went unnoticed by the masses, who were convinced that the vampires were no longer a threat, and accused the Sarafan of holding power beyond what they needed. It was still proving difficult to attack Vorador's mansion in force, and a failed attack was far worse than none at all. Audron remained as inaccessible as ever.
A number of other pockets of vampires were found and destroyed, but they were now fleeing to Termagent Forest, strengthening the numbers there. With opinions turning against them, the Sarafan for the first time in its history began experiencing desertions, nothing spectacular, but a steady bleed. It became clear that they seriously needed a victory to prevent lifetimes of work becoming undone. Mortanius, noticing their disposition, agreed to help them obtain sureties from Moebius. Confronted about the future of the Sarafan, Moebius without as much as pausing for thought spun a fantastical web of treachery involving incursions from other planes of existence and time travel that was both utterly compelling and a pack of preposterous lies. But, more importantly, it made the loss of their generals look like the biggest victory in the order's history, without making them into traitors or cowards. In fact, they would be martyrs.
Picking themselves up (all of them had collapsed laughing helplessly at some point during his tale), they held him to this promise.
"I will preserve the Sarafan order until every vampire spawned by an Ancient or his brood is irreparably dead. I will find Vorador and lay his head in your tomb to show I have fulfilled this, so that your souls may know I spoke truth. I will find you and ensure you are released from your vampiric slavery if I have to claw my way back from the grave to do so. This I will do, even should the pillars crumble to dust and the land rot, if I am devoured by a wraith I will find a way to escape to fulfill this promise, no matter what it may cost me."
Mortanius stepped out of the shadows and seared that promise indelibly into his soul, so that even should he die, any new vessel his soul inhabited would be forced to fulfill the promise.
Moebius screamed and thrashed, glaring, but not resisting the sudden attack.
Dumah smiled. "You thought we'd rely on your word? Foolish, my lord. We know you."
"I would not have been deterred had you told me."
"You realize that you neglected to use the word 'if' in your promise. Rightfully, we may simply walk away and leave Janos be." Moebius blinked, admiration at being tricked overwhelming even his rage.
"But, unlike you, my lord, we keep our word. Given the chance, Audron will die, and we with him."
"Hahaha...congratulations. This has not happened to me before...ever. I must admit, I'm surprised."
"We had an excellent teacher."
They left him there, laughing at himself and admiring the handiwork of his lieutenants.
Mortanius, having remained behind, flicked him one apologetic glance. "They're loyal soldiers. I could not let them die in vain." Then he, too, left.
Shortly afterwards, the Voice of God resounded across the chamber.
"So...they seek to bind you. Foolish. As my servant, you cannot be bound." Agony filled him as his soul was seared a second time by God trying to shatter his chains. When it subsided, the chains had held. Mortanius had not taken chances.
"Impossible...no mortal binding can stand up to me..."
"Well, it appears that one did. I fully intend to keep that promise, and you will not prevent me."
"We shall see." With his generals departed, nobody heard the screams.