The Lone Dragon Knight

by D. C. Clemens

  I pulled his hair in a way that made part of his face visible to me. If I didn’t feel the body heat his head leaked out, I would have been sure that the pale, gaunt face tentatively staring up at me belonged to a vampire. As it was, he merely needed a great deal of sunlight.

  “You’re Rathmore?” I asked.

  He cleared his dry throat and said, “Um, I’m a Rathmore, not the Rathmore, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m Ghevont Rathmore. Who might you be?”

  Clarissa had by now made herself known, to which the young girl said, “Rathmore! There’s another one! What do I do?”

  “Wonderful question.”

  “Uh, Mercer?”

  “Stay there,” I replied to Clarissa. To Rathmore, I asked, “You’re Riskel’s son? Is your father dead?”

  “As far as I know, or, at least, most of him is, but perhaps even less than that.”

  “You have a sister, right?”

  “Oh, you’re acquainted? When did you meet? I haven’t seen her since… Let’s see, how old were you when Vey was last here?”

  “Eleven,” answered the girl.

  “And how old are you now?”

  “Fourteen.”

  “Ah, that’s right. Three years, then.”

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Oh, this and that. Mostly this, but sometimes other things too.”

  I tightened my grip on his hair. “A little more specific.”

  “That’ll take a while. I do lots of specific things.”

  “Including taking people and corpses?”

  “Oh, I only do the taking corpses thing. Real people unnerve me. I couldn’t take a living person if I wanted to. I’d freeze up.”

  “Then who takes people? Is anyone else out here with you?”

  “Unless Vey takes the time to visit, then only Gremly takes the living people, just as it’s been doing since before the memory of this nation.”

  “See!” said the girl. “He’s hurting nobody! Let him go!”

  “She’s right,” acknowledged Ghevont. “I’m out here because everyone leaves me alone. Frankly, I find it fascinating that you two have made it so far. You’re not lost, are you? Though it sounds like you were looking for my father, or signs of him, meaning you’re here on purpose. That’s quite a feat. The tricks this forest plays on people normally ends up killing them. It’s the man reason my father came here all those years ago.”

  “Do you know where your sister is?”

  “She doesn’t keep me notified of her doings. Vey only comes when she wants something from me or this place, which is usually bodies or information, or information on bodies. She’s always been a little obsessed with father’s work.”

  “Why? What does she want?”

  “She wants what father wanted.”

  “Which is?”

  “From what I can gather, it was to break the barrier between the mortal and immortal, though I realize that’s a broad statement. Don’t many healers attempt to reach the very same goal? Albeit with more morals involved. Ironic, really. Dad’s pursuit to immortality was his undoing. Very sad. I often wonder what it would be like if he and I used our insatiable curiosity to propel our search for knowledge together, without the fear of looming death that so worried him.”

  “So he believed corruption held the answer to his problem?”

  “How could one not think so? Corrupted are short-lived due to their madness taking them to life shortening situations, but keep them isolated and their advanced healing trait can stave off death from hunger and injury far longer than a regular mortal could sustain. Hey, you want to kill Vey, don’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good,” said the girl.

  “Now Marcela, that kind of temperament doesn’t suit you.”

  “I don’t care. I hate her. She would have hurt me.”

  “Oh yes, very much so. Uh, Mercer, was it? I’m beginning to find that talking with my throat up against your sword is rather uncomfortable. I’ll be glad to continue our charming conversation under less threatening circumstances. While I do know all kinds of spells that a more competent fighter could use to separate sword from neck, I can assure you that I do not have the mentality or physique of a warrior. Look around you—I’m a scholar, a seeker of truth and admirer of the arcane. I’m not like the rest of my family.”

  “And you don’t care that I want your sister dead?”

  “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I care as far as she’s been my only real connection I ever had outside of Marcela here, but if I had to choose between her and me, I have no problem choosing my own welfare.”

  “You never answer anything simply, do you?”

  “Few answers are ever simple, no? It’s why you didn’t slice my throat when you heard the name ‘Rathmore.’ How many others would condemn me for that alone?”

  I let go of his hair and removed the potential for an easy kill. Marcela ran up to her companion and leapt up to hug him. Going by Ghevont’s awkward patting of her head and back, I figured that physical contact between them was scarce. Over his shoulder, Marcela gave me the dirtiest look anyone had ever given me. I was close to placing Aranath in a different place, but Clarissa walking up to me broke up that desire.

  “Yes, yes,” said Ghevont, “I’m okay now.” As she unwillingly slid off him, he stood up and smoothed his ragged cloak. “She’s been quite attached to me since I found her wandering the forest a few years back.”

  “I heard your sister mention a master she served. Does that mean anything to you?”

  “Hmm, I don’t know about a ‘master,’ but the last time she was here she spoke of wanting me to meet with an old friend of hers, but as it required a relocation of my presence, I refused. She really despises the fact that I won’t actively aid her in her goals, you know. I’ve never thought of her as someone who takes orders from someone else, but if they were powerful enough, I suppose anything’s possible. Now that I think about it, some of her actions do imply servitude. Perhaps she believed her friend could convince me to leave my hermit lifestyle.”

  “If she believed that, then why not bring them to you?”

  “Oh, she might serve someone with real influence and power, but I’m quite positive that she would never trust anyone with this place. This is sacred ground to her.”

  “Is it possible to bring her here?”

  “Oh, err, yes.”

  “How?”

  “There are certain runes in this fort and in the two other ruins nearby that will alert a rune seared into her forearm if ever tampered with. I suspect she will come running if that ever transpired, but she will come ready to battle, and she will make for a powerful opponent. I’m also pretty sure she’ll kill me if you fail.”

  “Then you better make sure I don’t.”

  “No!” said Marcela. “You don’t have to help him! You hate fighting, and bringing her here will ruin everything! I like my life here. No one bothers us.”

  Ghevont studied my unyielding eyes a moment before saying to his little friend, “Well, look at it this way, if we can remove Vey from the painting completely, we won’t have to worry about her any longer.” This did not appease the girl. She stomped her barefoot on the ground and went to sit on her bed. Ghevont sighed. “I feel much the same, but I kn-” He stopped when he saw Clarissa. “Oh my, you’re a vampire, aren’t you?”

  “Uh, yes.”

  Marcela shrieked and pulled the blanket over herself. Ghevont walked up until he was inches away from Clarissa, walking in a circle around her a couple of times.

  “Fascinating. How many people have you fed on?”

  “None, though I have drank some human blood before.”

  “Even more fascinating. You only drink animal blood, then? How different is it from our own?”

  “Well-”

  “Ghevont,” I interrupted. “Will you destroy these runes for me?”

  “I don’t really have a choice, do I? Refusing will only force you to start arbitrari
ly destroying my place of work, and I would prefer to avoid that at most costs.”

  “Can you do it now?”

  “Oh, I suppose nothing is preventing me from doing so. Very well, I’ll go ahead and ring the bell for you. You’ll be staying here until she arrives, I take it?” I nodded. He exhaled. “Then let’s get this over with.”

  Ghevont went down the hall, which he lighted by activating a small light rune on the low ceiling, and entered a storage room that held a sundry of items stashed in shelves and open crates. He had to push a shelf a few feet to fully expose the etching of a large rune. He splayed his hand in the middle of the imprint and began pouring his prana into it, making it glow with a red hue. This bloody radiance then altered to a white incandescence. A few seconds later and the glow faded entirely.

  When he finished, he asked, “So why does my sister need to die? I mean, I know why she needs to, but why you?”

  I knew both girls were watching us from the hall. Seeing as I was probably going to spend some time with these people, I decided to make Marcela less irritating in my presence by fostering some pity. “She corrupted me.”

  “Really? And you’re not deranged?”

  “Not completely, at least.”

  “How were you corrupted?”

  I undid some of the cloth wrapped around my forearm. He put his face an inch away from the serrated tail.

  “How far does this go?”

  “All the way up my arm.”

  “When?”

  “It’s been about five years.”

  “Direct exposer to corrupted prana and to be sane for five years afterward? Does this explain how you were able to make it this far into the forest?”

  “I used a different method for that.”

  “Which one?”

  “My enchanted sword, and no, you can’t examine it.”

  “Where did you obtain it?”

  “The depths of a mountain.”

  “And how close are you to madness? Do you sense it creeping up on you? Wait, before you answer, would you mind answering a survey I’ll prepare for you? Ahh! So many questions! I never thought I could personally ask a vampire and a corrupted the questions I’ve had in my head!”

  “Help me prepare for your sister and we’ll answer all we can.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Not long after learning that Ghevont and Vey were actually twins, with her being the older by ten minutes, I asked, “Can you cast any spells that can paralyze her? I would prefer not to kill her before I can get a chance to find out who else was involved with my corruption.”

  “Certainly. One in particular comes to mind, but she is far stronger than I am. No spell I know will hold her all that long unless she’s weakened first. At best it would give you a nice opening. Give her a few good strikes in that time and hopefully she won’t be able to fight at all, but she’ll be a handful if she does escape with full mobility. I’ve seen her practice, and even before she slept with men she killed them.”

  “How does she fight?”

  “That’s her strength, really. I’ve seen her seamlessly switching between any number of weapons and tactics. I can say that one of her favorite techniques is when she wreathes her whip with lightning. Quite a show watching her train with that sparking and crackling about.”

  Clarissa came out of the kitchen area carrying a tray, setting it on the table Ghevont and I were sitting beside. The tray had three little bowls of vegetable soup. “I hope this is okay,” said Clarissa. “I haven’t cooked since I was in my orphanage.”

  After taking a couple of bites, Marcela said, “Hey, this is good! I wish I can cook, but I never really learned. Some stuff comes out really, really bad.”

  “Nonsense,” said Ghevont. “I enjoy all your meals.”

  “Dummy, you’re too starved to care what you eat. He’s so into his work he would forget to drink water if I didn’t dump it on him.”

  “Where do you get your water?” Clarissa asked.

  “A small lake north of here,” answered Ghevont. “We also grow most of our food around there.”

  “I’m surprised you can make any kind of life here. How have you been able to live out here without the forest affecting you?”

  “I have to cast a singular spell my father created to guard against the special magic here, but even he would not dare get much deeper than we are now. The odd magic becomes too strong near the center of Gremly.”

  “And why is this fort here?”

  “It was built in a time when Oclor made a concerted effort to conquer this land. It did not go well, of course. The other two ruins are sunken deeper than this one, and one of those has an unusable basement level. I someday hope to use all my knowledge and uncover the heart of Gremly. That aim is still a decade or two out, however.”

  “Hey,” said Marcela. “What will happen if Vey wins? She’ll kill us, won’t she?”

  “You won’t be here,” I clarified. “Clarissa will be watching you at an inn until my business is done.”

  “Wait, why can’t I stay?” said the vampire. “I can help.”

  “You can help by making sure Marcela stays out of harm’s way. I can’t spend any thought worried about either of you being killed if things go bad.”

  “But I don’t want to leave Rathmore!” said Marcela.

  “Ghevont,” I said sternly.

  “Hmm? Ah, yes. I agree with Mercer. It would be best if you’re not here when she is. It would also ease my mind knowing you’ll be safe if we fail to subdue Vey.”

  “But I don’t want to be in an inn. Can’t I at least stay in one of the other forts?”

  “There’s a chance she’ll visit them before coming here,” I said. “It’s probably a small chance, but it’s still more than the alternative. We’ll head to town tomorrow or the day after and rent the room for you two. You’ll have the coin to stay a year if you have to.” Clarissa said my name in a pleading tone, but before she continued, I said, “If Marcela wasn’t here, then I would have you help here, but she is, and neither Ghevont nor I will need that distraction as we prepare and wait for Vey.”

  Clarissa mimicked Marcela’s crossed arms and expression of vexation, but seeing I was not going to budge on this matter, neither of them protested beyond their body language.

  We decided to escort the girls to Holmfirth the following morning, not wanting to take the chance that Vey would arrive much sooner than expected. On exiting the fort, Ghevont cast his special spell on himself and the girls.

  “How does this spell work, exactly?” Clarissa asked Ghevont as he cast the spell on her.

  “My father discovered that the forest has the ability to imperceptibly change the way someone’s prana pulses in the body. This in turn affects our senses. Some sensitive souls even hear voices in their head. They otherwise become too disoriented to think straight and get hopelessly lost until they finally die from exposure.”

  “Right, but how does the spell work?”

  “Oh, right. Well, once my father discovered this, he figured out a way to match his prana’s pulsations with that of the forest, canceling out most of the negative effects. He then taught Vey and I the spell when we were young. It was basically the first spell I learned. Still, even after all this time learning to master it, it is not sensitive enough to take one deeper in the forest.”

  “Can Marcela cast it?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she answered, “but don’t worry, I’m not going to use it to sneak back.”

  “Also,” began Ghevont, “she can’t cast it for longer than a few hours.”

  “And how do you get past the sprites?” Clarissa asked.

  “How did you?”

  “We had to kill two,” I replied.

  “Aw,” said Marcela. “You didn’t have to do that.”

  “Actually, they would. Strangers are habitually attacked, remember? You see, sprites are a bit like dogs. Take care of one as a seedling and they become loyal protectors for life. Most of these sprites I’ve kn
own since my father summoned them as saplings. As long as they sense my presence, they won’t attack us.”

  Our way to the town was largely spent with Ghevont asking Clarissa all the questions he could on her life as a vampire. This was intermingled with Clarissa using her social charms to ease Marcela with the idea of spending the following weeks as a pair together. For her part, I knew Marcela didn’t like me, and I could tell she wanted to say so, but since she did seem to take some pity from my corrupted state, she simply chose to ignore me—the best possible consequence for me.

  One of the talks between the girls had me overhearing a little of Marcela’s past. She was a runaway, leaving her overbearing parents when she was eight or nine. I got the sense that her parental guardians were not abusive, simply strict, so I imagined Ghevont would have been better off sending the child back to her rightful parents after finding her.

  This line of thinking forced me to wonder how my own parents were doing, if they were even alive at all. It was odd, despite the questions about my past, there was no great urge to reunite with them. I wanted to discover what happened to them, but it was more out of curiosity than anything. Would they be little more than strangers if I saw them again? Would the event trigger my old memories, or was there no getting them back? What would they think of their corrupted son?

  Without having to move so cautiously, the trip to Holmfirth was only a day and a half long. Ghevont stayed at the outskirts as I made sure the girls were all set at the inn. I made my way back with the reclusive scholar as soon as that was done.

  “All this is feeling more real,” said Ghevont as night veiled the sky. “Either Vey or I will really die, won’t we? I always expected she would be killed at some point if she insisted on following father’s familiar path, but I never imagined I would be directly involved with it. I figured I might not even hear of her death until long after it happened, or perhaps I would simply never see her again.”

  “Are you having regrets?”

  “Not regret so much as I’m ruminating about our relationship. We really did enjoy each other’s company once, but ever since receiving word of our parents’ death… Well, she was never the same. She became angry that I wasn’t seemingly as upset as she was about the whole thing. That rift only increased the following years.”