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Of Light and Darkness

Page 8

by Shayne Leighton


  Kazimir, the lowest of the oligarchy, and a master of the Fifth Realm and psychic arts, could make human beings see and believe whatever he wanted them to. His name meant “the great destroyer” and in many ways, Vladislov was lucky to have his younger brother in his good graces. Kazimir was once responsible for destroying whole villages in Asia, making it look like the responsibility of human military.

  Bedrich was the high priest of the oligarchy. He was closest with air, and a master of everything theological. He was the brain, and had been since he was just a young Elf. His massive cranium he hid under hooded robes reflected that.

  Then, there was Danek Price. His family had immigrated to the golden city from an Occult town in Ireland when Vladislov called upon him. A master of the earthly realms, he was best at cunning strategy. Danek was strong and quiet, just as he had taught his son, Aiden, to be.

  Vladislov, the leader of the oligarchy, was a master of every element, something only few could dream of achieving. He could cause and control tsunamis, tornados, flash floods, brush fires. Anything to bend others to adhere to his will. He indulged himself with the finest of all things and held no compassion for the creatures he considered to be beneath him. Foremost on his list, were Vampires—specifically one: Valek Ruzik. The upstart who’d dared break into his rooms uttering demands that were not his to make.

  Late one particularly dark winter night when the moon was new and the sky was at its blackest, Vladislov sat alone, once again, in his chamber. The bedroom was completely draped in red velvet from the curtains, to the bedclothes, to the upholstery used to make the chair he sat in.

  The year was 1989, the year Czechoslovakia would divide into two nations. The human condition about the country was in turmoil, with the raging end of oppression and communism.

  He reflected by the warm candlelight, the law that had been passed several decades before, written by himself and his younger brother, and revised by Bedrich and Danek. Vladislov read the decision they made together. Bedrich had tried to persuade Vladislov not to pass the one law, which would lock every Occult creature inside their secret cities forever, making it unlawful for them to cross over the borders into mortal society. But Bedrich’s attempt had been feckless, and Vladislov made it so—doing this without anticipating the repercussion that would advance on this night.

  He was about to turn in for the evening, leaning over to blow out his candle, when a black shadow crashed through the frosty windowpane. Shards of glass whizzed through the air to the floor around Vladislov. Chilled winter air from the night steeped the deep, red bedroom, causing the candles to flicker out on their own.

  Cold wind blew Vladislov’s long, silver, wiry hair about his face as he squinted through the darkness for the intruder. Something inhumanly fast whizzed past him. He shot up from his chair. This wasn’t any kind of mortal thief.

  “Who intrudes? I demand to know!” he bellowed.

  The shadow leapt to the other side of the room. Vladislov spun to look behind him, trying to catch the thing, but he had no such luck, the creature was fast. It moved again, making one of his towering bookshelves crash to the floor. Vladislov could hear guards stirring downstairs from the ruckus.

  “You will be punished dearly for this, whoever you are!” Vladislov spoke again, his tone significantly meeker. “My guards are coming with their Lycans. You will be torn to shreds!”

  The being slowly crept up behind the Wizard and let out a cold breath that slipped like a chill of death the back of Vladislov’s neck.

  “I know what you plan to do. Do not sign that document, sir, or you will surely live to regret it,” the phantom hissed.

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  “I am the thing which will watch you from the shadows until the day you die,” the creature whispered. “The thing that will haunt you as you dream. The only thing…you will never defeat.”

  Vladislov, who had stealthily moved his bony hand to his desk, grasped a letter opener. He whipped his arm around and slashed the mysterious man’s throat open, blood spewing as the figure recoiled back into the darkness. But when he looked to see the body, nothing was there. The wizard let out a soft sound of terror as he suddenly felt someone standing behind him. The creature’s claws slashed at Vladislov’s hand, slicing it off at the bone, knocking the bloody letter opener to the ground.

  Vladislov let out a loud cry of pain as he clutched his spewing arm. He fell to the floor and crawled like an insect from a falcon.

  The obscure creature brought one claw down to wrap around Vladislov’s neck and sent him hurling into the wall. His back crunched with the impact.

  The shadow slowly made its way to stand before him. The moonlight shimmered off the creature’s threatening fanged grin.

  “Vampire!” He gasped.

  The Vampire let out a low chuckle. “The only thing you will never defeat,” the Vampire repeated, just as the chamber door flew open. Guards rushed in, their footsteps booming on the floorboards.

  “There!” Vladislov gestured with one spindly finger at the Vampire.

  Just as the guards and their wolves lunged, he leapt back through the open window into the dark night. There was no evidence left of the fiasco, other than the destroyed chamber and the ‘Law One’ soaked in his red wine.

  ***

  Eighteen years later, the Regime’s hatred for the blood-sucking creatures continued to consume its four leaders. Vladislov thought of ways to make sure it would never happen again. He would sit up, sleepless night after sleepless night, devising ways to make life more difficult for the only thing he would never win against and every night, he came up with the same solution: rid the Earth of Vampires completely. Form a mass genocide, and the world would no longer have to fear the blood demons.

  “Sir?” A young Elf that worked in the building as a page interrupted Vladislov’s reverie. “Excuse me, sir, but the Vampires from the Northern most Slovakian occult city have arrived, sir.”

  Vladislov nodded and waved him away.

  Kazimir soon took the boy’s place in the room as he walked over to his elder brother and put one hand on his pointed shoulder.

  “Tomorrow is the day, Vlad,” he said warmly. “This is only the first of many Occult districts to be cleared. Soon, the entire world will not have to worry about these savages appearing by their bedsides anymore.”

  Vladislov slowly got up from the leather armchair with a tired smile.

  “Yes, Kazimir. Soon human children will forget every vampiric fairy tale ever told. It will be as though they’ve never existed, and we can all rest easier.”

  “Can you believe one of them actually asked me what she was being tried for?” Kazimir laughed, lines forming around his dark, shining eyes. He looked almost identical to his brother, though a bit more youthful.

  “How did you respond?” Vladislov only slightly shared in his brother’s amusement.

  “I told her they were all guilty on the count of ruthless murder. How could we let creatures such as these exist after killing thousands of people, and endangering our secret?” Kazimir beamed. “The little demon looked at me like I had three eyes.” His laugh was thunderous again. “You should have seen the way she clawed at those bars, as though she were strong enough to rip through platinum.”

  “Let us see how strong they are when they are forced to meet eyes with sunrise,” Vladislov seethed, and started out of the large room.

  “Good day, brother.” Kazimir eyed him as Vladislov nodded and disappeared behind the door without another word.

  Chapter Seven

  No Rest for the Wicked

  Charlotte stretched as she woke. The curtains were drawn, letting the soft light in. It was seven o’clock. The sun had had its turn in the Eastern hemisphere and was now fading deep into the West. Twilight had come upon the small town, coloring the sky with swirling tufts of pink and gold.

  Bolting up, she gasped and jumped out of bed. She fought to remember how she had gotten there, and peering down, w
hy she wasn’t in her night clothes. She gazed around the room, not seeing Valek anywhere. How could she have fallen asleep? The last thing she remembered was the cold night, the spider, and…Evangeline.

  The memory of the night came flooding back to her. The pain, the confusion, the ridiculous jealousy all burned within the tears forming in the corners of her eyes again. It couldn’t have been a dream, though she wished it were. It was the only way to explain the dull, familiar pain that reverberated in her chest—a telltale sign of a broken heart.

  She quickly slipped on jeans and a sweater and made her way into the hall, seeing Valek’s bedroom door wide open. Charlotte stopped, listened. She didn’t hear Valek stirring in his office. It seemed too early for him to have gotten up already. What if something awful happened to him last night? There was no way he could be awake yet. She ran downstairs.

  In the library, remnants of a dying fire glistered in a heap of black ashes. Charlotte lurched when she finally saw an emaciated Valek, sprawled out in his armchair like he had been there for over four hundred years.

  She muffled a scream behind her arm. Something really had gone wrong. Why wasn’t he in his bedroom with the thick curtains drawn? Had he been there all day? Was he really hurt? She tore through her memory for an answer but didn’t remember what took place after their conversation in the churchyard.

  Cautiously, she padded toward his corpse and suddenly stilled. His chest abruptly jumped. Her heart pounded as she watched him lunge forward, gasping for air. Valek clawed at his shirt, heaved as he bent in half. He coughed up something black and putrid as he struggled to inhale, the stuff oozing between his fingers as he tried to cover it. He grasped the side of the chair with his other hand. Charlotte watched, horrified, as his skeletal frame seemed to expand back into semi-living flesh. His eyes, like ink stains, scowled at her from under a wicked shroud of tousled, dark hair.

  She inched forward but he halted her with an outstretched claw.

  “Stop!” He choked out more of the bile spewing.

  “Do not…come any closer.” He heaved again. “I need—” He hacked again.

  Knees quaking, Charlotte balled her fists in her hair. She hadn’t hunted for him last night.

  “I’m going. Don’t worry, Valek!” She bolted out of the house, not forgetting her whistle, still strung safely around her neck.

  The night was as frosted as the one before had been. Wind blew Charlotte’s curls in her eyes, though she quickly clawed them out of her face as her shoes crunched in the gravel and leaves between the fixed stones in the path. She could feel her heart, damaged and throbbing inside her, as she pushed onward. No matter how hurt she was, it couldn’t stop her from hunting. No matter how badly he’d hurt her, it would never drive her to do the same to him. Quickly, she made her way into the town square, not wanting to run into anyone that might distract her. She passed Broucka General Store and saw the little, burlap guardian staring sadly at her through the spotless window, rag in hand. He waved meekly.

  Charlotte frowned at Edwin, aware he knew more than she did about what happened last night. She watched Edwin shake his head and hobble back into deeper ends of the shop. So now he couldn’t even bear to look at her? She didn’t blame him. Her thoughts were awful. She cringed.

  “Charlotte!” A sickeningly familiar musical voice rang out from behind her. Evangeline. She clenched her jaw tight.

  The vile enchantress ran up to her from her usual place in the village tavern. “Can I talk to you?” Evangeline asked, breathlessly.

  “No.” Charlotte scowled and kept walking, pushing her way through the crowding Elves and imps.

  But Evangeline was determined and kept up effortlessly alongside Charlotte. “Please? I really want to talk to you!” the Witch begged.

  “I don’t have time.”

  “Listen! I want to say I am really sorry about what happened yesterday.” Evangeline was shoved backward by one large ogre. “I didn’t think it was like that between you two!”

  Charlotte stopped dead in her tracks, whirling around to face the Witch, only barely breathing through clenched teeth. “Like what? ” Her hands wound in knots at her sides as her shoulders trembled. Do not get angry; do not make a scene.

  “I don’t know.” Evangeline sheepishly tugged at a lock of hair. “When you saw us in the library, you reacted like you had found him committing adultery or something.”

  Charlotte’s nostrils flared. She jabbed a finger at her. “I do not have to explain to you what it’s ‘like’ between Valek and I! That is really none of your business!” She turned on her booted heels and began storming through the square again.

  “Then, it’s really none of your business if we see each other or not,” Evangeline called after her.

  Charlotte closed her eyes tight, wishing fangs would magically appear in her mouth. She spun around. “For your information”—a few of the Occult patrons stopped, gawking wide-eyed at the two. It made Charlotte’s cheeks burn—“Valek is my business! He has been my business for almost eighteen years!”

  “Exactly!” Evangeline started to yell then. “He is your father! ”

  Charlotte’s jaw dropped, her eyes pricking with the horribly embarrassing feeling she was about to cry. She hadn’t expected those words to come from Evangeline’s mouth. Father. Salty tears stung her eyes, but she forced them back.

  “He doesn’t feel that way about you, Evangeline. He told me he never would.” Charlotte sought her revenge quietly this time. “Valek is too good for you.” She took a few slow steps closer. “And let me fill you in on something else. Valek was like my father until you came along and ruined everything! Because of you, things are never going to be the same between us again!” Hot tears streamed down her face; she couldn’t help it. The honesty of it all stung worse when articulated, like the tormenting thoughts had suddenly become tangible. “So here….” Charlotte reached into the pockets of her jeans and tossed a few silvery coins at Evangeline's high-heeled toes. “The payment Valek owes his harlot from last night. In full.” With that, Charlotte turned once more and sped away from the lingering crowd, and the Witch.

  But Evangeline was relentless. “Charlotte?"

  Charlotte rolled her eyes. Apparently, there was no way she was going to win this without creating even more of a scene. She turned once more to look at Evangeline and crossed her arms over her chest.

  “I really had no idea. You have got to believe that I’m really sorry.” Evangeline’s gaze shimmered with a hint of moisture.

  Charlotte tightened her jaw, but said nothing.

  “Please?”

  Silence.

  “You’re right, Charlotte. I wasn’t aware of the situation. I didn’t realize how close you two are.”

  Charlotte relaxed. She didn’t want to fight anymore. “You mean how close we were. What did you think, Evangeline? He raised me. How separate could Valek and I possibly be? It has always been just the two of us. What makes you think I’d ever want that to change?” Charlotte looked up at the tall, gorgeous woman with magical traits that made her closer to Valek then her own humanity could, and her heart sank. “And your apology really isn't going to undo any of this damage now.”

  “You’re right. I didn’t think.” Evangeline looked at the ground. The two of them started walking again in silence, together this time.

  “It’s fine. You’re forgiven. You can go back now,” Charlotte finally said once they reached the edge of the town square.

  “I want to come with you,” Evangeline persisted. “I don’t like you leaving the Occult borders alone. Valek wouldn’t like it either. It’s very dangerous”

  “But you aren’t allowed to leave. Trust me, it’s more dangerous if you come with me.” The memory of Charlotte's leg wound from the other day prodded at her consciousness. No matter how she despised Evangeline, Charlotte would feel too guilty if anything happened to her when they crossed the borders.

  “Let me right my wrongs,” she begged. “I can protect yo
u. I can get you to Prague in two seconds! It will be easy.”

  Charlotte could see she was not about to give up and decided the less the two of them spoke, the better. They walked together through the rows of houses, through the dark canopy of trees, the fake cemetery, and the black iron gate. The large crescent moon hung low in the sky and made the long, dirt road ahead of them look like a silver serpent in a river of grass. Sounds of the night surrounded them. An owl, a distance down the tunnel, hoo-ed from its hiding place in the canopy. A calm breeze made a soft ruffle in the wheat fields. Charlotte imagined that even the stars seemed to have their own distinctive twinkling sound.

  “So where are you planning on going?” Evangeline asked. “I can get you anywhere.”

  “I don’t know.” Charlotte sighed. “Normally I just walk until I happen upon a night traveler or a small town.”

  “And then what?”

  “I pretend I'm lost. I ask if they can help me find my way. Sometimes my conversation distracts them, sometimes...it doesn’t.” Charlotte’s tone dropped several decibels. “But normally by that time, they are already through the gate, and Valek is fast when I call for him. By the time I’m home, they’re already dead, and he’s smoking his pipe in the library.” Charlotte didn’t elaborate on the details; how sometimes when they didn’t come as quietly as she hoped, she resorted to knocking them out. She couldn’t kill them. Valek couldn’t drink from a dead heart. Charlotte puffed out her chest a little. The seduction, the killing—that did make her closer to Valek than Evangeline.

 

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