by Max Andren
Perhaps, in sharing the burden of his grief, it would decrease the pain in his soul. It was that one pivotal question that had solidified our bond.
Rationally, I knew all of this was conjured with my mind, but the connection I felt with Cipriano seemed so real. After that question, I learned all about drampires and their hate for all dragons, but especially, Cipriano and his brothers.
“I’ve been alive since the Crusades,” he told me, shocking me with his age.
“Dragons have always been protectors and for male dragons, it’s innate. Though there have been plenty of female warriors over the centuries. My father, Laurent, had met a Scottish nobleman who had come to the Middle East on his first crusade. This man had employed my father as his private guardsman.”
Initially, his father had kept secret the fact that he was a dragon. But, Laurent and the nobleman had bonded, which led his father to eventually confess the truth.
“Laurent had several brothers, but they were also dragon leaders, so he decided to take his mate and return to Scotland with his nobleman where he formed his own clan.”
Cipriano and his two brothers, Aiden and Jakoi, were born in Scotland and followed in their father’s footsteps becoming guardians to the Scottish aristocracy. The trouble came with the neighboring clan of druids.
“We kept to ourselves, but we weren’t exactly hiding either. Because of that, the neighboring druid clan caught onto our longevity and envied our immortality, so over time, we became enemies.”
The druids found a way to hijack the coveted immortality from dragons by mortally wounding a full-fledged dragon. Once wounded they would steal the dragons’ essence to acquire infinite immortality.
“It was the perfect method to steal and harness our immortality to fuel their own. But it’s not that easy to acquire. No dragon would willingly give up their essence—their very soul to a druid. The druids became creative and devised a way to attain immortality without stealing it from a full-fledged dragon. They have a knack for finding our brethren with dragon blood.”
“Once located, they capture our brethren and perform a reaping ceremony by carving dark magic glyphs into the skin of their victims with a ceremonial blade made from Damascus steel. They torture them to death and reap their adrenaline-laden and traumatic emotional energy during the process. This energy is funneled into a Damascus amulet and adorned with a bloodstone.”
“That’s horrible.”
I couldn’t comprehend that kind of evil, though I had felt it myself.
“They wear the amulet around their necks and the trapped energy they stole provides them with extended life. The effect of the reaping is short lived and must be replenished over and over. And so this is how the drampire was born.”
“Why don’t the brethren try to fight or escape?”
I remembered how I wasn’t able to move when Dr. Hanley had me in that room and was carving into my skin.
“Damascus is a type of ancient steel and it’s a known paralytic for dragons, much like kryptonite is for Superman.”
It was strange to hear this centuries-old dragon talk about Superman.
“I’ve been to the movies, though it’s been quite some time.”
“I haven’t either.”
“It’s important to keep up on current events. I am ancient, but don’t want to appear as such.”
He told me about Hulbetto, one of the longest living drampires. He had been around since the crusades and he had tried to kill Cipriano multiple times throughout the centuries. He was responsible for the death of one Cipriano’s brothers and the cursing of another. He didn’t tell those stories, but I sensed a tremendous amount of pain and grief.
For centuries, Cipriano has been searching for his brother, Aiden. I felt his determination to find him, wherever he was. If Aiden was real, that is—if any of this was real.
I wanted Cipriano and all his wonderful stories to be real, but at this point, it didn’t matter.
My time was over, I could feel it…
The blue iridescence that was Cipriano, slid across my lips to offer what felt like sustenance. My heart ceased with its rapid stuttering almost instantaneously. It began to beat with a regularity that I hadn’t known in a long while.
“What did you do?”
“I offered you a bit of my life force or essence—if you will. It’s very diluted, as I’m not really here and only an astral projection. But when I arrive to free you from hell, I will give you a proper offering.”
I didn’t understand what he was trying to say and help was so foreign to me that I didn’t know how to respond.
“You’re just a vivid apparition of my deranged mind,” I dismissed.
“You’re not deranged and I’ll prove it to you once I’m there. But, for now you must fight.”
“You’re too late,” I said, as I felt my heart stutter again, “but thank you for these precious moments of respite.”
“You will not fade!” Echoed through my mind, but I was beyond responding and took my final breath—welcoming death.
5
With that final breath I was consumed and surrounded by—nothing.
The stuttering cadence of my heart was silent. My breath ceased to rasp in and out of my lungs. Pain, my constant companion since I was eight years old, was blessedly absent—a precious gift that only took dying to obtain.
There was no white light to behold. There was nothing.
Nothing, but quiescence—at long last…
I found myself outside standing on the courtyard’s vibrant green lawn with no idea of how I arrived there. I couldn’t feel the prickly blades of grass beneath my feet because I was no longer corporeal—I had no body. I felt insubstantial, like a dandelion floating on the wind.
The perpetual setting sun caught my attention as it sank below the horizon and brought closure to the day and to my life. My final dusking sky was illuminated in shades of pink, orange, and blue—an exquisite light display with far too many colors to name.
The sun finished its nightly descent and I waited to make mine. Given what my parents and the staff had thought about me, I would be descending straight to hell.
Having no idea what to do next, I did nothing at all.
A flock of birds in a tight V formation made their way across the rising moon. I was mesmerized by the way they flew in unison and yet, could make such quick directional changes without flying into one another.
The flock of birds landed on the grass before me and still in formation. I stared at them in disbelief—dragons? I blinked my eyes, but they still didn’t vanish
Five dragons had come to escort me straight to hell.
They were about the size of a van. They had seemed so much smaller flying through the sky.
Who knew that such magnificent creatures would be utilized to escort, the dead and their damned souls, to the other side.
I should have been afraid, but I wasn’t. Between the colorful stories Cipriano had shared with and the ones Mia and I had created together, I felt deeply connected to these mythical creatures.
Mesmerized by their colorful scales, I quickly projected their images to Mia. I illustrated how the sunset had paled by comparison, but I could no longer feel her within my mind.
She was gone and painfully silent.
The dragons shimmered before me and I could feel the static electricity humming through the air. They wavered and so did my stomach—which should have been impossible considering I was dead.
Standing before me and where the dragons had been, were four men and one woman. I blinked my eyes again, but this time in confusion and then in disbelief at what I had just witnessed.
The one standing at point walked towards me.
“Where are you, Pena?” He asked with his mind and in a familiar voice.
“I am before you, as you can see,” I answered in kind, then thought to ask him who he was, though I thought I already knew the answer.
“Time is diminishing, Sister. Where is your body t
hen?”
“In the dungeon basement,” I replied.
He took his hands and placed them over his heart and whispered quietly to himself. It appeared as if he were gathering something and I saw that he was. Within the cradle of his cupped hands was the same glowing blue iridescence that had visited me in my dungeon hellhole.
I looked at his face and then at his hands. I thought about how his voice had sounded in my mind and realized he was indeed my companion. He was my blue iridescence, as well as a dragon and a man.
He nodded. “Come Sister, drink of my essence and be risen. Be Renascent,” he told me formally and aloud for the sake of the others.
“I don’t wish to be risen or whatever it is that you’re offering. I welcome death! I’m thankful it has finally found me,” I said stepping backwards, away from his proffered hands.
“I understand wanting to have your final rest and finding that peace you were denied the whole of your life. But you need to drink. For her sake, you must,” he told me, as he walked forward.
“Who is she? Who must I drink for? There is only me and I do not wish to.”
“Your mind seems still, but I’m there with you and I can hear her. She’s very quiet, but if you focus, you will find her. The two of you are connected. You will need each other, but only you can find her,” he explained.
I didn’t understand his explanation at all. He spoke in circles of nonsense, but I tried to do as he asked and searched my mind. Besides, the longer I was dead—chances were, I would stay that way.
My mind was calm and quiet, but I was so used to the constant chaos and the never-ending cries of the lost, that the silence was eerie. I closed my eyes to concentrate, but I heard nothing.
I felt nothing.
I wanted to prolong the time since I had died, so I waited a bit longer before giving up the search for her. But then I found her quietly weeping and now that I heard her, I could feel her too. Her hopelessness nearly broke my already dead heart.
It was Mia! She was still there, though barely.
I hadn’t made her up.
She was real and my relief was instantaneous. But in that moment, she reminded me of the little boy I heard all those years ago. His fear and pain—so real to me—had triggered the empathic episode that caused my parents to have me committed. I didn’t want her to suffer as he had suffered.
I opened my eyes to see Cipriano’s hands patiently offering me his blue iridescence. I heard her quietly begging to ‘please, help’ and with that heart wrenching plea, I stepped forward to accept his essence.
I drank, no matter the cost or potential consequences.
Mia and I had been together for years. I would find and deliver her from whatever hell she was consigned to.
For a brief moment, I felt nothing except a profound sense of peace and wellbeing.
Then I knew nothing at all.
6
A benefit of being so cold was that my metabolism had dramatically slowed. My body had needed less oxygen to survive so there would be minimal damage from my dead time—if any at all.
After Cipriano shared his life force with me, my essence had returned to the dungeon and reentered my body. I had risen, Renascent, but had not been fully healed. I was alive, but my body remained weak from malnutrition and malicious neglect. Unfortunately, my mind returned to its usual state of chaos.
Oddly comforting, though loud and painful.
I was in the asylum basement when Cipriano materialized before me. His beautiful blue iridescence glowing in his hand so that we could see in the pitch-black dungeon. Three of the others materialized around me—transforming from mere shadows to men once again.
What a cool ability to have I thought inanely and shook my head at all the strange and wondrous things I’d witnessed since dying and becoming Renascent.
Cipriano bent down to gather my slight frame into his arms and carried me away from what would have been my final internment. The open sky was much preferable to my dank hell. But first, we would have to find a way past the guards and the staff.
“The others are clearing a path for us to leave this place unmolested.”
Too late for that, I muttered within my mind, then blushed when I realized he probably meant leaving without anyone trying to stop us. I was thankful I hadn’t projected that thought to him.
I realized he had heard my wayward thought when he said, “And they will pay for that as well!” Retribution evident in his voice.
Once we were outside, Cipriano knelt down with me still in his arms and placed me gently on the lawn in the courtyard.
“Sister, if you please, rest here a moment with Ian. We have one more thing to take care of and then you will be rid of this place for good,” Cipriano said, but stayed kneeling.
I looked at him questioningly.
“If you would permit me, I would be honored to seek vengeance on your behalf,” he said or asked, depending on how you wanted to classify it.
He was like a warrior of old seeking my permission to do battle.
I nodded because I didn’t trust my voice to work. I couldn’t say it within my own mind either. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to hurt a fly at the moment, if ever.
Nodding back, he placed his fist over his heart and bowed his head for a moment before standing. He and the others transformed back to shadows then disappeared within a blink, blending with the natural shadows cast by the moon.
I looked up at Ian and asked, “How…how do they do that?” I stuttered through my mind, as I tried and failed miserably to formulate my thoughts into some semblance of order. I had seen so many amazing things it was hard to grasp them all.
He chuckled and said, “Quite disturbing, is it not?”
Ian nodded when I realized he had heard me with his mind, but he confirmed it by saying, “Yes, I can hear you too. We all can. You are quite loud, Pena,” he finished with a smile and a wink.
“Why do you call me that?”
“We are Scottish, among other things, but in our culture Pena means sister. So you are and shall be.”
These five strangers were treating me as if I had value, as if I were something more than nothing. I had no idea how to respond to this anomaly and so I didn’t respond at all.
I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my thin arms around them. My threadbare gown hung dejectedly on my skeleton-frame and did little to protect me against the cool night air.
Warmth enveloped my shoulders and brief, hazy flashes from Ian’s life fluttered through my mind, as I felt his warm jacket settle against my filthy skin. I allowed myself a moment of selfishness to enjoy the thoughtfulness of his gesture and the warmth his jacket provided.
With regret, I shrugged it off and handed it back to him, saying as I did so, “Thank you, Ian, but I can’t accept your jacket. It wouldn’t be right.”
I’m too filthy, I thought to myself.
“No, Sister! You are not filthy and you will cease in thinking so!” he said, as he settled the jacket back around my shoulders.
I hadn’t meant for him to hear that last part. I really needed to work on not projecting my every thought, but I was too weak and too tired to censor myself or argue about the jacket. Without Cipriano shielding me, the voices were roaring out of control and a bit louder than usual.
Luckily, I was still sitting on the grass because I was blindsided by disorienting vignettes of death that suddenly flashed in-and-out of focus within my mind. I saw the others in their dragon-form circling Dr. Hanley and the asylum guards. They were standing within the inner courtyard where the dragons had placed them.
I couldn’t direct the vision because it were coming from Cipriano I realized. The mental scene switched to panning the buildings surrounding the courtyard. I saw the many faces of the deranged pressed against the glass—silent witnesses—waiting and watching, knowing this would affect their fates as well.
The scene returned to Hanley and the guards, now bloody and covered in deep gashes. The dragons were toyi
ng with them, like the cat does the mouse. There was no sport in it for Cipriano and the others, so they cut the chase and went straight for the killing blows.
My next vision was from above. I saw what appeared to be a dragon’s claw slash across the throat of one of the ten guards. A spray of blood arced outward as his body twisted and fell. Eyes widened in shock, he clutched his throat as blood bubbled out from his gasping mouth.
Each of the guards followed in a similar fashion. I witnessed to the entire death scene within the landscape of my mind. The dragons killed them all and without remorse.
Hanley was the only one left standing. He was bleeding from multiple gashes, including a bone deep laceration across his forehead that bled profusely into his right eye. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could feel his fear as he begged for his life.
I was in Cipriano’s mind watching and feeling everything. He said nothing and I felt nothing from him—only from Hanley. I reached out to Cipriano to stop his killing blow. Stumbling as I stood, I made my way towards them.
“He’ll not be happy that you saw that side of him,” Ian stated when I looked up at him.
As weak as I was, it was slow going. Without asking, Ian picked me up and carried me, but once we were almost there, but still out of eyesight, he placed me on the grass.
I took his jacket from my shoulders and handed it back to him and said, “Thank you, for its use, Ian.”
With my chin up and my head held high, I walked the rest of the way on my own volition. The staff and guards who had repeatedly abused me and their authority, were dead and scattered around the courtyard—dismissed. I ignored their bloody bodies and walked towards Cipriano.
The dragons were acutely focused on Hanley and so was I.
Hanley was looking between Cipriano, in his dragon-form and me, as I walked up and stood next to Cipriano’s side. Without Ian’s jacket, I was freezing, so I locked my knees.
I would not shiver. I would not fall over. Period!
Staring at Hanley, I refused to acknowledge my weaknesses, all courtesy of his heinous dungeon deprivation treatment.
