During its last outbreak, the Black Fever had claimed the lives of over a million Aeternae. We didn’t want people to die in such numbers ever again.
Esme
The night was quiet. Kalon and I were given separate rooms at the inn, and the rest of Orvis silently accepted our presence. Pavlos and Ember were charged with guarding us until dawn while other young Aeternae kept the night’s watch.
Kalon left Ansel tied to a chair in his room and joined me outside on the porch. There were no other residents currently occupying the inn, so we had the place mostly to ourselves. Kalla brought over a pitcher of fresh animal blood—the hunters had returned with plenty of game in their leather sacks.
“Don’t consider yourself above us,” Kalla told him, noticing that Kalon’s lips twisted as he looked at the pitcher. “It’s still food. It’ll get you through the night.”
“It’ll weaken me,” Kalon replied.
“It’ll feed you,” I cut in. “You should save some for your brother, as well.”
“Ansel would rather die of hunger than touch animal blood,” Kalon said. He took a sip, taking a moment to fully take in the taste. “This isn’t half bad, actually,” he added, gulping down some more before he passed me the pitcher.
Kalla grinned. “The strength of an Aeternae is relative. Our people here don’t need to feel superior to anyone. They don’t need the blood of Rimians or Naloreans to thrive. This isn’t a micro-empire, after all. It’s just a village of outcasts and misfits.”
“You’ve been living here for, what, four thousand years?” I asked, clutching the vessel in my hands.
Above us, the moon shone like a pearl beyond a thin haze. Stars glimmered like diamonds on a dark purple blanket. After the afternoon rain, the sky had cleared. The wind blew strong, though, likely to bring more showers later tonight or early in the morning. Howls echoed in the woods around the village as nocturnal predators came out to hunt.
I heard the Visions neighing in their stables. The steel stone fence surrounding Orvis did a decent job of keeping the deadly animals at bay. For everything else, the watchtower stood tall, overlooking the entire village.
“About four millennia, yes. Some of the first to arrive and settle here were Aeternae, actually. They’re the village elders now, and I consult with them on many issues,” Kalla said. “They’re supportive of every new chief. Always. On occasion, some of them end up being chosen as chiefs again. But they never submit their own candidacy. We ask, and they answer.”
“Is this your way of telling us that the Aeternae living here do not demand eternal rule over Orvis?” Kalon chuckled.
“That is exactly what I’m saying,” Kalla replied. “I know you find it hard to believe, but people actually get along here. This one simple rule about the Aeternae’s feeding has changed everything.”
“Imagine if the imperial city learned about this,” I told Kalon. “It’s a good example to set.”
Kalla’s smile faded, her expression suddenly somber and dark. “I’d rather you kept our existence to yourselves. We like our privacy too much to let it go.”
“You are self-proclaimed outcasts, though,” I said. “The empire has no business getting involved in your affairs.”
Kalon cleared his throat. “Well, that’s open to debate, actually. The Aeternae who founded Orvis were cast from the cities because they refused to drink Nalorean and Rimian blood. The fact that they’ve started a society here might be deemed a threat to the empire’s ethos. Imagine if what goes on in Orvis spread across the continent. The empire would never allow it. The Rimians and the Naloreans are subjects, and they were subjugated for their blood.”
“Kalon is right,” Kalla replied. “We like our life here. We don’t want to risk the empire’s involvement.”
I sympathized with Kalla on this one. The fact that they’d achieved such a beautiful balance here was proof that the empire’s hold over Nalore and Rimia could be broken. But I knew the Aeternae would never accept it. No, Orvis had to be protected from the outside world, and I was determined to heed Kalla’s request for secrecy.
As the hours went by, she told us more about the village and how the others gathered and joined the commune. They were all survivors of sorts, some having fled other villages raided by Darklings. With no better options available, they’d sought refuge in the most dangerous forest. They’d wound up running for their lives from sabre tigers and other predators, only to slip past the iron stone fence and seek sanctuary in Orvis. One by one, the people had gathered—lost on the road, victims of the night and of the Darklings—and they’d found a home here.
After Kalla left, we said goodbye to Ember and Pavlos for the night. They settled on the porch, their bows and arrows ready in case they had to protect the inn. I left the empty pitcher on the counter of the small bar, stopping to admire its wooden shelves. There were various kinds of mead and liquor kept in smoky bottles, likely for Rimian or Nalorean guests.
“This place is pretty neat, even though few people stay here throughout the year,” Kalon said, running a finger across one of the small square dinner tables nearby. The entire ground floor served as a dining area, complete with a corner reception desk. Old paper files were stacked on a shelf, along with a brass bell.
“They probably dust the place off once in a while.” I moved away from the bar and found Kalon standing right in front of me, though I hadn’t heard him move. My breath hitched at his body being so close to mine. I could hear his heartbeat drumming in my ears, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to address his dishonesty. My blood was already rushing.
Kalon’s effect on me was undeniable… and probably a little dangerous.
“You’re on edge,” he whispered, as though sensing the angst brewing inside me. Why had my courage abandoned me? What the hell was so hard about calling him out on his lies? I was afraid, I realized. Afraid that this thing between us might vanish in a puff of black smoke, and all that remained would amount to nothing more than bitterness and a ravaging emptiness. We’d gotten too close to break apart without any repercussions. “What’s wrong, Esme?”
“Nothing. It’s… It’s been a long day, Kalon. A pretty intense and interesting day, if I’m honest. I think I just need to sleep. Besides, my wounds are not yet fully healed. I suppose I need more shuteye than usual to make a full recovery.”
I wasn’t lying. I did feel tired, but it wasn’t enough to justify my demeanor, over which I obviously had little to no control, since Kalon had been astute enough to notice. He cupped my face in his hands and pulled me into a kiss. My resolve—or whatever had been left of it—was obliterated in a matter of seconds. I softened against him, surrendering to his lips as he conquered me once more.
There was sweetness in his kiss, and a kind of tenderness I’d never experienced before. He tasted honest and kind, which once again contrasted with my knowledge of his deceit. Maybe a good sleep would help me regain some perspective and enough courage to talk to him about what I’d heard and what I remembered from that night in the palace basement.
“Whatever it is that troubles you,” he whispered over my lips, “you can talk to me. You know that, right?”
I nodded slowly, my stomach turning and twisting itself into a painful pretzel. “We don’t… I mean, we’re obviously getting close,” I said. “I’ve never been like this with anyone. I want you to know that, to understand that…”
He searched my face, but he didn’t say anything. He was telling me enough with his eyes, the blue piercing my very soul.
“I’m trusting you with myself, here. With my heart,” I continued, hoping the right words would eventually come to me. “Don’t… you know, don’t mess with it. With me.”
“I only have your best interests at heart, Esme. No matter how else it might seem at times,” Kalon replied. His hands moved slowly, traveling down my shoulders, my arms, and finally settling on my hips. His fingers dug through the leather, and he pulled me closer, our bodies fitting like matching pieces.
“I never thought I’d end up in a place like this, but I’m glad I’m here, with you. It’s weird, yes. It’s nothing like what I’m used to. But I’m thrilled that we’ve discovered it together. It’s a nice break from the mess we’re about to go back to, don’t you think?”
I didn’t immediately register the subject change, but I gave him a smile nonetheless, his attention all mine. All I remembered was that he’d said he had my best interests at heart—was I a fool if I wanted to believe him?
“We should go to bed,” I murmured, worried I might get carried away if I stayed with Kalon even a minute longer. His scent had already invaded my mind, as I took deep breaths and inhaled the rich musk and spicy leather. “We’ve got an early start tomorrow, don’t we?”
“Yes, we promised Kalla we’d leave at dawn,” he said, a slight frown settling on his face. He stepped back and sighed, motioning for me to go up the stairs first.
Somewhere outside, a scream pierced the night, and my foot froze on the first wooden step. We heard Ember and Pavlos scrambling beyond the door, their boots thudding across the porch before they descended.
“What’s happening?” I asked.
Kalon rushed to the door, and I followed him a split second later. As soon as we reached the porch, we could see the feverish mobilization. Ember and Pavlos blended with the rest of the crowd—dozens of young Rimians, Naloreans, and Aeternae—who’d come out bearing various weapons and wearing hard looks on their faces.
They ran through the village alleys, headed northeast, toward the border. Kalla appeared next to us, and I nearly yelped at the sight of her. “Sheesh… you’re awfully stealthy,” I muttered. “What’s going on?”
Another scream rippled from the direction the villagers were going, armed and ready for battle.
“A saber tiger, most likely,” Kalla said, watching them all go. She was impressively calm, considering what was happening. “It’s a big and quiet one, too. Notice how it’s not even growling.”
Chills tickled my spine. Kalon’s arm came up around my shoulders as he pulled me close in a bid to protect and comfort me. I found it adorable, though I could easily take care of myself. “And the screams?” I asked.
“One of our own,” Kalla grumbled. “I doubt we’ll be able to save him.”
“So, a tiger infiltrated the village?” Kalon replied.
“Yes. They do that sometimes, especially this time of year, when their cubs are growing big enough to require fresh meat,” Kalla explained. “The summer season is usually calm, with fewer such events, as the tigers tend to go after the deer on the outskirts of the Nightmare Forest. But as the rains start coming in, the deer move back toward our area, the tiger cubs grow big enough to join their mothers on hunts… and Orvis seems like a good hunting ground.”
I imagined a cub sitting at the edge of the woods somewhere on the northeastern corner, watching from beneath a shrub as his mother jumped over the iron stone fence and snapped into the first villager she came across.
Someone shouted in the distance. A creature growled. Others yelled. The creature wailed in agony. Kalla smiled. “They got it,” she said. “It will be dead soon.”
“The cub will be left an orphan, then,” I mumbled.
“We don’t have any other choice. If we let a saber tiger come into our village once, only to chase it away, it will come again and again,” Kalla said. “We have to kill the intruders; otherwise, their cubs will hunt here, as well.”
“At least this way, the cub has learned a painful but valuable lesson,” Kalon replied. “It knows not to come here ever again.”
Life was cruel, especially in the wilderness. Orvis had lost a man, and a tiger cub had lost its mother. Death was a reality of life, and it was painful to be reminded of it sometimes. By the time I reached my bed, my heart was heavier than ever, grief seeping through my bones.
I doubted I’d be able to sleep, lying awake and hoping that tomorrow might bring better things. What were the odds of that happening, though, if I still could not find enough strength to confront Kalon about his lies?
Esme
By the time the sun rose the next morning, Kalon and I were already saddling up. Ansel was bound and gagged once more, and I had yet to find out more about their relationship or about Kalon’s knowledge of the Darklings—not for lack of trying, however. I’d eavesdropped throughout the night, only to encounter a grave-like silence. Maybe Kalon had known to be quiet, given that our rooms had been right next to each other.
Kalla walked with us to the southern exit as the sun glistened pink beyond the thick haze. I had my hood on, but the daylight wouldn’t last much longer. Clouds were already following us from up north, big and gray and rolling with lightning.
“I’m sorry about the villager you lost last night,” I said to Kalla.
“I am, too. But out here, it’s a fact of life. There’s a reason why we all go in after dark,” she replied. “He knew not to be so close to the fence at that hour. Unfortunately, he paid the ultimate price.”
“And the tiger? What did you do with the carcass?” Kalon asked.
“The fur will be used for warmth. The winters here are pretty harsh. We gave the creature a burial rite, though,” Kalla said. “After all, we’re the ones who made a home in the forest. We’re on the animals’ turf, and we must respect that as much as we can.”
I appreciated that mindset. It spoke of a synergy with nature that wasn’t easily found back on Earth. The people of Orvis had learned to live with the forest, not just in it. Kalon looked at me as we reached the southern exit.
Ahead, the path widened as it delved back into the woods. The wind rushed through, rattling the trees. I shivered at the sound of it, as if the Nightmare Forest were talking to us, telling us to be careful. Even during the day the danger was never truly gone.
“And the cub? Did any of the villagers see it?” I asked.
“No, but Ember caught a whiff of the little creature not far from the northeastern fence,” Kalla said. “It will survive on its own, most likely. Another sabre tigress might adopt it. The mothers are surprisingly welcoming of other cubs, unlike some other predator species.”
So were the vampires, I thought, my mind going back to The Shade, which had welcomed orphans from all corners of the universe and beyond. There was kindness and honor in sheltering a lost soul, in nurturing it and giving it a chance at a full, better life.
“This is where I say goodbye,” Kalla said, stopping by the stone fence. She gave me a broad smile. “It was an honor to meet you, Esme Vaughn. You’ve restored my faith in the universe, so to speak.”
I’d told her about my origins and GASP, about our culture and some of our previous adventures. She’d devoured every single tale with childlike interest, finding parallels with her own people, with Orvis and the Aeternae empire. At the end of the day, despite our physical and cultural differences, we were all very much alike. We all fought to survive, to live great lives.
“The pleasure and honor were all ours,” I replied. “You have a wonderful place here, despite its… let’s say difficult position. I promise we won’t tell anyone about it, if that is your wish.”
“I appreciate it, and so does every creature who’s made a home in Orvis,” Kalla said. She looked at Kalon and a sluggish Ansel. The boy had not sipped a drop of blood since the previous morning, and he was no longer strong enough to stay alert. That was fine by me—a sluggish Darkling was less dangerous, especially when bound and gagged. “I hope you find what you need. And I hope you can turn your brother around,” Kalla added, fully up to speed as to why Kalon had his sibling tied up this way.
“I’ll do what I can.” Kalon sighed. “Ansel will have to want to help himself, though. There is only so much I can do.”
“Indoctrination is a fickle thing,” Kalla replied. “But once you confront him with the undeniable truth, once he sees his narrative dismantled, the boy will have no choice but to accept reality. The Darklings and their agenda are not worth dy
ing for.”
“Let’s hope my brother understands that before it’s too late,” Kalon said. “The empire is not as forgiving as I am.”
“You three be safe out there,” Kalla said, as she bid us farewell. “Should our paths cross again, you’ll find a friend in me. Unless you bring trouble to Orvis, in which case I will become your worst enemy.”
I took it as a goodbye, not as a warning, though I doubted Kalon thought the same. Kalla’s words had clearly made him uneasy, but he didn’t respond. He just waved and shifted his focus back to the road as Lightning and Midnight took us through the woods again.
An hour passed in heavy silence. I noticed Ansel watching me, his eyes reduced to icy slits. I wasn’t sure what he was trying to tell me with that expression—aggression had zero impact on me, and he didn’t scare me. Perhaps it was curiosity. Either way, the fact that he was at least responsive to my presence said something. Most cult members I’d come across in other Earth cultures had been blank, often indifferent to my very existence as they sought shelter within their reshaped minds.
“Let me make something clear, Ansel,” Kalon said after a while, staring at the road ahead. “I’m taking you home now, as we’ve discussed. It’s only a temporary measure, until you decide what it is you wish to do with your life. Your options are simple: If you keep your mouth shut and remain loyal to the Darklings, I’ll have no choice but to surrender you to the authorities. Considering the attempts on Valaine’s life, I doubt the master commander will be merciful.”
“But if you open up,” I added, continuing his thought. “If you tell us what you know about the Darklings and their operations, then you might actually survive.” Kalon and I had already discussed this option, and he had my full support in this endeavor. Provided, of course, that Ansel would cooperate.
A Shade of Vampire 81: A Bringer of Night Page 11
