It had been at least a year since the vampiric curse had been lifted, yet Veran could still smell the stink of blood in the soil. Though none was visible, he knew that the barren, gray land he had trudged over for miles and miles had seen bloodshed that had not been known since the dawn of Glomora.
He supposed it made sense. After all, he was in the far North of Glomora, in Nuinmar. A land of cold and darkness. The birthplace of the vampires.
Chill wind nipped hungrily at Veran’s ears and nose and he drew his cloak closer. His eyes grew tired of the same sight that had been before him for the past two days. Miles and miles of gray hills, the grass lifeless and long deprived of its vibrancy. A perpetual curtain of cloud blanketed the sky, yet since Veran had entered this country, there had been no rain. Just as well, the journey had been tedious enough without a deluge to make things worse.
Veran sighed as he climbed over yet another hill, his boots whispering through the grass. What he wouldn’t have given for a warm bed and some decent food—not the jerky he had been living off of for the past few weeks. The land showed no sign of game either. Truly, Nuinmar was a wasteland.
As he crested the hill, he saw another familiar sight. A small circle of flat stones, weeds, and grass sprouting out of the cracks like hair. In the middle of the circle stood a statue about the size of a child. Veran had seen several in his time traveling through the Forsaken Hills, and he had recognized each of the statues. They were visages of Abyssal gods, gods he himself used to worship.
The statue, like the others, was crudely made—a complete contrast to the altars that had been in Veran’s former home of Crimsonfall. It showed the simple curvature of a woman made from granite. Without a doubt, Veran knew it was a statue of Ahera, the goddess of lust and power. The Abyssal Rune carved into the statue’s center identified her. The rune known as Min’Ka.
Veran remembered the symbol well. Jezmara had used it in many of her spells when they fought alongside one another. The quick ghost of a memory flitted through his mind, reminding him of her beautiful face, the blazing red of her hair. An old longing stirred in him, one that had haunted him repeatedly for a year.
Veran braced himself against the memory until it faded. When he opened his eyes, the statue of Ahera was still there.
He reached over his shoulder and drew his sword ShadowWeep. The blade seemed to sing as he brought it downwards. It sliced through the statue as easy as butter, Ahera’s head falling to the gray grass.
Veran sheathed his sword and spat on the severed head of Ahera. “Rot in the Abyss with the other gods.”
He continued down the opposite side of the hill.
***
It grew very dark—no moon or star graced the sky. Blackness surrounded Veran completely. He had made camp between two hills, and though he knew it posed some risk, he had built a fire. Anything to keep the gloom at bay. Though he had been born in the dark and lived within it so much of his life, he now found it abhorrent. The glow of warm flames comforted him.
He stared at the fire for a long time, lost in his thoughts. Remembering many things. Some were things better left forgotten, but they refused to die and leave him be.
He remembered the tall, dark towers of Crimsonfall, his home, and the shining, white moon casting dark shadows on the river that flowed by its doorstep. The mountains that surrounded it that he used to hunt in, dance in,—the deep places where he would drink in the ecstasy of the night.
He remembered the other vampires of his coven. Friends…and family. Jezmara. Du’ra. Father. Ghosts that seemed to hover over him in the impenetrable night.
But the footsteps behind him were made by no ghost.
Veran was on his feet in an instant, plunging ShadowWeep into the darkness before him. The blade bit into flesh and a cry came from the darkness. Veran pulled back on his sword, dragging forward the would-be assailant into the light.
Shadow melted off of a man, his eyes blazing crimson. He hissed, flashing long fangs in the firelight, ShadowWeep protruding from his gut.
The vampire hissed. “Blasphemer!” He unstuck himself from ShadowWeep, gore flowing from the wound in his stomach. In the span of a quick breath, he was on Veran’s left, leaping at him with a vicious ferocity.
Veran ducked, the vampire flying over him. As the creature did so, Veran thrusted his sword upwards, catching the vampire in the chest. He howled as he went tumbling to the ground. Veran planted a boot on his chest, ShadowWeep’s point hovering less than an inch from the undead monster’s throat.
“You decided to attack the wrong traveler,” Veran said.
“Kill me,” the vampire snarled. “There are more of us in the shadows. Our goddess’s rage echoes in our minds. We know you desecrated one of her shrines.”
Veran felt a flash of anger shoot through him. His lips curled into a wicked smile. “Your goddess is nothing more than a whore.”
The vampire’s red eyes flared. His hands flew to Veran’s leg, ready to throw Veran off no doubt. But the monster was not quick enough. Veran drove ShadowWeep downward, piercing through the vampire’s throat. A spout of black blood gushed from the vampire’s neck, his hands going limp. His body shuddered and writhed under Veran’s foot.
Not a decapitation, Veran thought. But it will do.
Slow seconds ticked by. Blood flowed. Finally, the vampire shuddered one more time, then moved no more.
Veran removed his sword and stepped back, looking at the corpse. After a long moment, he spit on it.
A feminine voice sounded in his mind. You did not offer him mercy, Veran.
Veran thought of the vials of blood in his tunic. The same blood that had redeemed him from his curse.
“He didn’t deserve any,” Veran whispered to the night. Though a wave of remorse passed through his body, he ignored it. For now, his hatred was stronger.
Veran kicked the body so it rolled back into the darkness, away from the firelight. Veran then sat down next to the fire and began to clean ShadowWeep with a cloth. However, there seemed to be little point.
He was sure that it would be stained with blood again very soon.
nice wholesome vampiric fare. 😎