by Kindred Ult
A smile crept over his face as the perfect plan hit him. He was a druid, after all. After sharing his plan with Nightwing, who thoroughly agreed with it, Brand began to run through all of the possibilities involved with the plan and what he would do if each one happened. He would defeat Demenn tonight, no matter what.
The entire chamber around Varus was quiet. His words seemed to hang in the air as almost all faces went through various stages of the same emotion: surprise. Finally, it was Vladimir who spoke first.
"Repeat that, scout Varus."
"Sir, my squad, which was lead by first class Demenn, found the werewolf lair. Upon discovering it's whereabouts, we were attacked and captured. Three of us escaped and one was killed. Scout leader Demenn and two others are still in captivity, sir. I have a map here with the exact coordinates of the werewolf lair."
At first, the same silence as before prevailed, but then a small shout of triumph emanated from Safiria, the matriarch. Varus looked at her, and was sure that every other vampire in the chamber did the same, to see a fierce delight on her usually placid face. Everyone could tell what she was thinking, and many of them shuddered to think of what she would do to those werewolves. Then she said something, so faint that Varus was unsure she even said it, but when he saw Vladimir's eyes swiftly flash to her he knew it was true. She had said "Demenn."
Vladimir, current Patriarch of the vampires, sat back in his very uncomfortable throne. He could not help but be annoyed. As much as he wanted the war between vampires and werewolves, he had always thought that it would be years from now, and this seemed too soon. They still did not have enough intelligence on their enemy, nor did they have sufficient supplies or, possibly, enough men. Many preparations would have to be made, and countless little details would fall to him for completion, since Safiria barely did any of the duties involved in ruling. All of the nights between now and whenever this battle happened, if it happened at all, would be filled with work. And he could not help but notice that Demenn had been the cause of all of his work, and that Safiria had noticed him once again. These thoughts, more than all of his work, raised his ire. 'Demenn indeed.'
Dimitrious, chief advisor to the Patriarch, and the one said to be the oldest living vampire, leaned back in his comfortably padded chair. This Demenn fellow seemed to be a very able person, maybe even good enough to receive the Ascension. 'In fact, if things continued this way, he may even turn out to be the One.'
Throughout the council chamber, variations of these three trains of thoughts abounded, and it was not long before less discreet council members were voicing their opinions. Through all of the tumult, only one vampire remained completely motionless, with his elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped in front of his face, as if he were thinking. Despite his placid behavior, those who knew him would have shrunk away from him with just one look. Darius, current general of the vampire army, sat with his face studiously expressionless, while inside his thoughts raged. 'The council is so fickle. All they care about is the newest and greatest thing they can see. If this Demenn is too much in their minds, they'll eventually decide that he should be the general of our army.'
As if on cue, and as a reminder to Darius of how well he knew the council, councilman Fralis, an old, decaying vampire, stood and addressed the other members of the council. "Patriarch, Matriarch, honorable members of the council, Demenn has shown himself to be an adept fighter and strategist, as well as an able leader. Our army needs more vampires of his caliber, so I propose that we promote him to the position of captain. The eighth unit has just recently been formed, and with the addition of the two units in planning, there will be a need for new captains. I believe that no captain has been chosen for the eighth squad yet, and I would like to make a motion that Demenn be made captain of that unit…If not more." That last part was said with a distinct and meaningful look towards Darius.
Darius was absolutely fuming by now, although he let none of his emotions show as he stood to his feet. "My Lords, my ladies. I second the proposition that Demenn be made a captain, but I would propose that he be made the captain of unit seven, while the current captain of unit seven is moved to unit eight. New units are always very hard to control, and the captain of unit seven has proven himself in many battles. Now, as to Demenn being promoted to anything beyond a captain, I have held this position since the last general was killed in the Werepyre Wars, and have never lost a major battle," granted there had been very few major battles in that time, but he had not lost them nonetheless. "None can dispute that I have been successful in all of my campaigns, and I have never lost a duel. This…upstart may be an excellent fighter, but we have the greatest battle in our long history on our hands. Can we really trust the leading of our forces at such a pivotal time to a vampire who has never commanded more than six others? He is untrained, and until he is I cannot, and indeed, will not give over my position as general to him."
Before any more conversations could arise, Vladimir sighed and stood to his feet. "Are there any objections to promoting Demenn to captain of a unit?" There were none. "Very well. Brilde, make that proposal official. If Demenn is rescued or escapes and finds his way back here, he will be promoted to unit captain immediately. Now, on to a more important matter. What do we do with the knowledge that Demenn and his squad very likely gave their lives for? Scout Varus, you may leave."
"Sir." Varus found himself very happy to be leaving. All of this politicking was beginning to get on his nerves. Although hearing that Demenn would become a captain if he came back was good. As he walked out the door he caught himself thinking that. 'Is that good news? The vampire who killed my sister is going to become even harder to reach, and I'm thinking that it is good. What's wrong with me?' He left the castle feeling very confused.
Meanwhile, in the council chamber, Vladimir turned to the councilors and started the conversation. "Now then, what shall we do?"
Instantly, the councilors, who had been holding in their opinions until they were sure they would not be killed for spouting them out, began to do just that.
"Attack!"
"Launch Powerful magic at their base!"
"Create a blockade outside of the base and starve them out."
"Nothing!
"Go on the defensive and wait for them to attack us."
The discussion continued well into the night, until finally Vladimir, who looked like he was about to kill something, finished the conversation. "So, we are, finally, in agreement. A state of war will be declared, the two units in construction will be filled as fast as possible, all of our allies will be called to fight with us, and we will meet for a council of war in three nights time. This meeting is now adjourned."
"Aw hell, I can't take it anymore."
Demenn snapped his head up to see Raphael stand and start to walk towards the Queen and the last handmaiden. Something in his tone worried Demenn, so he stood and faced him.
"Cannot take what, Raphael?"
He continued to walk towards them. "I can't take having these two here like that. Even us vampires have to vent every once in awhile."
It was night, and they were wearing their regular clothes, so Demenn had ample opportunity to see the unbridled lust in Raphael's eyes.
"I will warn you, Raphael. These are prisoners of war, and as such must not be harmed in any way until they are brought to our leaders."
Leon spoke from where he was sitting. Worry pervaded his voice. "Yea, Raph, this isn't too bad. Listen, if you just hold on 'till we get back to the vampire castle I'll get you someone amazing. I promise. Come on man, it's just a bit more."
"Like hell," was Raphael's only reply as he continued to make his way towards the two women, who were cringing away at this point. Before he could reach them, though, Demenn was in front of him. His weapons were sheathed, but his hand was on Raphael's shoulder.
"I cannot let you do this, Raph." Demenn's eyes were cold.
"Oh, and why?" Raphael's eyes held challenge in them, and just looking
into them scared Demenn. "You're going to defend them over me? We've fought together for years, Demenn, and these are our mortal enemies. What's wrong with hurting them a little? They've done far worse to us and to humans. Maybe it's time they learned how to feel pain themselves."
Demenn shook his head. "No. This is not right."
Raphael laughed harshly at Demenn. "Right? Right! Who are you to talk about right? Who are any of us to talk about right? We've all killed countless humans in our time, and we've done unspeakable acts for no reason. It's in our blood, Demenn. It's how we must be. That's why I have to do this. That's why you had to use that girl. Because in the end, we are all," he tilted his head and smiled. "Scum."
Demenn hesitated for a moment. What could he say? How could this be worse than killing an innocent human? He had done that many times, and he had used Nasoren. He was scum. They were all scum. This was what they were. How could he tell them no? He could not.
Finally, Demenn's hand fell from Raphael's shoulder and he turned away. "Do what you will, only do not harm the Queen, she is a valuable bargaining tool." He began to walk away.
"Hey, why don't you join us?" Raphael was smiling.
"Raph!" Leon walked up to his brother and turned him around by his shoulder. "Shut up!"
Raphael seemed to take the hint, and his eyes met the floor for a moment as he looked after Demenn, who was walking out of the clearing. "Yea, sorry bro. I guess I just got a little carried away, but I mean, there's no way he doesn't feel the same way we do, right?"
Leon followed his gaze. "If our family had been killed the same way as his and our younger sister raped before our eyes, we might feel differently too."
"Well, that's almost enough to be a turnoff." Raphael's attitude quickly went back to normal.
"Yea, almost." Leon smiled. "You want first?"
"Sure."
The handmaiden began to cry as they walked toward her.
Meanwhile, Demenn walked through the forest. He was securing the perimeter, or at least that was what he tried to tell himself. In truth, he was disgusted with those two, with the entire system that made it so he could not find any basis for denying them what they wished for. Most of all, though, he was disgusted with himself for not having the strength or the reason to deny them. He knew it was wrong, somehow, but he could find nothing else to prove that it was so. They were right, though; he was no better than they were. In the end they were all morally corrupt. In the end they were all guilty. In the end they were all scum.
From behind him he heard Leon call out to Raphael. "Hey, better finish before dawn. Wouldn't want that thing to get burned off."
Raphael gave as much back. "At least I have something to burn off, you bas- What the hell?!"
Demenn heard the surprise in that last part, and immediately spun around to run back to the clearing. Right after the exclamation, he heard the clash of metal. When he reached the clearing his eyes opened wide with astonishment. There stood Brand, or Deathbreak, with his large sword held in one hand and his small one in his other, and in his first class form. Somehow he had come up right behind Raphael, and had only been stopped by Leon, who had slapped his swords down from above with all of the strength his two handed sword allowed him.
Almost instantly, Raphael, who had no shirt on, rolled under Brand and pulled his two swords out. As he did so, Leon disengaged and leapt back next to him, and in the end they both faced Brand, while Demenn stood at the outside of the clearing. In an instant he pulled his spear from it's sheath on his back and ran towards them. Even as Leon and Raphael started to tell him to back off, Brand looked to the sky and a dark shape eclipsed the moon. It flew down at him and Demenn could barely make it out to be dragon. When it pulled it's head back and inhaled, Demenn had no choice but to put his spear back, shift to his Other form, and use his wings to launch himself back.
Pure blackness poured from the dragon's mouth. It billowed like a pyre of flame caught in the wind, and when it hit the ground it flowed around it until it finally dissipated. Demenn looked down and saw the ground was actually sliced to pieces. Large holes were in it, and cut marks marred the forest floor as if some beast of great strength had repeatedly taken an ax to it. Demenn did not know what kind of dragon this was, but he knew that facing it would be beyond him.
When the dragon landed on the ground and tucked its wings onto its back, Demenn was astonished to see fur all over it's body and black at its eyes. A werewolf dragon? Did those even exist? He wanted nothing more than to try to escape from this beast that seemed to be on another level from him, but he could not abandon Leon and Raphael, so he faced up with it. It looked him over, and laughed in a masculine voice.
"Heh, I've never fought a vampire before. This should be fun. Maybe I'll even get first class."
Behind him, Brand was standing between the hostages and the two vampire brothers. He made no move to attack, so they obliged him. They ran at him, but crossed each other halfway through, so that Leon attacked his side with the smaller sword and Raphael attacked the side with the larger sword. That way, when Brand swung at them, Leon was able to block his smaller sword, which looked more like a knife in Brand's hand, and Raphael was able to dodge under his larger, slower sword.
Almost instantly, it looked like they had won. Both were inside his guard, and Leon was at his left side, swinging his large sword at Brand with all of his strength, while Raphael attacked from his right, shoving his swords at Brand's heart. Then, however, Brand let his arms flow out and cross over his body, blocking Leon's powerful swing with his large blade and Raphael's fast attack with his small one. They were rebuffed, and as he brought his hands back around he switched his swords between them, deftly handling his large sword with his left hand as well as he had with his right. After a brief exchange of blows, both brothers broke off and circled Brand until they were at exact opposites of his body.
Brand sighed and closed his eyes, when he opened his eyelids, nothing was behind them. He could see them, though, even better than before, and when they attacked him he was ready for them. He handled Raphael's swift double attacks with deft flicks of his wrist, letting the natural strength of his body take place over in place of using any arm strength. For Leon he had to worry more, since he reach farther and attack with more strength than his brother could, but he was still able to block him with his left hand. The three of them continued to fight back and forth, with neither side gaining on the other. The two brothers fought miraculously, adding spins and leaps along with their usual impeccable fighting styles, but neither of them could score anything but minor hits on Brand.
Meanwhile, Demenn was having trouble with his opponent, who was better than him in every way. He lunged in, throwing countless punches at the dragon, but it just let him hit it in the chest as hard as he could and laughed. Then it looked down and spewed its dark breath at Demenn, making him lunge back. It turned its head and spewed more, which he rolled out of the way from before lunging in. It spewed at him again, and he lunged over it and flew down on the dragon, trying to strike its head, but it merely swiveled its head back, making his swinging punch ineffective. He hung suspended in space, but pumped his wings to go up and above the head and teeth that came swinging back. He was not prepared for it to fly up with him, though, and he saw it grin as it opened its mouth and blackness began to spew out. With nothing else to do, Demenn stuck his hands out in front of him and yelled out "fire."
The fire came from his hands and combated with the blackness, but Demenn only held it up until he was blown to the side by the dragon's whipping tail. The blackness went past him, but still Demenn was thrown to the ground. When he hit he rolled to the side to dodge the Dragon landing on him, and then tried to fly towards where Leon and Raphael were still frantically fighting Brand, but the dragon was in front of him again, swinging out with both claws. Even as he dodged he could see that Leon and Raphael were having problems.
The two of them just could not get a good cut on Brand when on both sides of him. He see
med to be able to literally see in the back of him. So, as if with one mind, they circled back and began to fight side-by-side. This was truly a wonderful thing to behold, as they spun past each other, blocked for each other, rolled over each other, and used each other as jumping posts to execute even more intricate attacks. Now Brand was able to fight with both of his hands in front of him, but he had to fight even harder than before against their combined abilities. He let his eyes come back, and marveled at the brothers' complete synchronization. No sooner had he attacked than Leon defended him and Raphael had attacked him. It did not matter which way he attacked from; Leon was somehow able to be there, with his large sword and perfect guard, to block him. Not even seconds after the block Raphael was rolling under, spinning around, or leaping off his brother to attack again. Brand knew that he would have lost to these with only one sword, and was grateful he had paid enough attention to them while fighting Demenn earlier to tell what they would do.
Still, they seemed almost like one being with two bodies, with their movements perfectly matching one another and both of absolutely one mind. He knew he had to do something past what he usually did, and as attacked with his large sword and blocked Raphael with his small one, he let go of his eyes and looked down under them. He was pleased to see a root had made its way to them, and as he swung low and blocked horizontally above him to keep Raphael, who had leapt into the air, from taking his head, he gave the root a silent command. When he brought his eyes back, he reacted too late when he saw Raphael had hooked his two swords around Brand's one and swung himself around. He kicked Brand in the snout, and brought his swords around to decapitate him. With nothing left to do, Brand stabbed his large sword up and blocked the blows. This gave Leon a chance and he lunged forward for what just may have been the deathblow.
