A Shade of Vampire 89: A Sanctuary of Foes

by Bella Forrest

  This kind of world required extensive observation and study. Days and weeks of living among these people, mingling with them. Asking them questions. Witnessing their daily and ceremonial habits. Understanding their social norms and interpersonal relationships. But we had a second trial to get to and a slew of unanswered questions to resolve before anything else.

  “No, I’m telling you the true story of how these bridges came to be,” Anunit said. We started walking toward the western bank, following the flux of Dainians toward an elevated square about half a mile ahead. I could see it from where we were. It was big enough to hold a thousand of them, at least, with stone brick fencing and plenty of decorative trees. The greenery was a dominant color, I quickly realized. Every inch of bare ground had been dedicated to plants, and it smelled amazing since many of the flowers were in bloom. It reminded me of spring in The Shade.

  “Okay, so they went to bed. And then what, they woke up the next day and the bridges were magically built?” I asked.

  “Exactly. Of course, they all heard the ruckus throughout the night—stones crashing, the incessant moaning of the giants as they lifted each huge slab to place them on top of the others, the pounding of hammers in the silence of the twilight—and yet, the Dainians obeyed. In the morning they found twelve new bridges connecting them to the eastern bank. Until then, most of their city had been built along the western bank. They had barges loaded with materials sailing across the water, but progress was slow. Once the bridges were erected, the entire city bloomed, expanding into what we’re seeing today.”

  “How do you know all this stuff?” Unending replied.

  “I was here. I saw the giants working.” Anunit looked to the mountains. “They live up there, beneath the sharpest ridges. Sometimes, when the sun sets, you can see them moving ever so slightly, causing the occasional avalanche. They sleep through most of their existence. They don’t need much to survive, since they belong to the Earth Hermessi of Dain. The mountains used to be rich. Precious metals and rare gemstones at their core. There were forests that made them look like titanic emeralds… I’m not sure what happened. I wasn’t here for that particular episode.”

  I stopped walking, gripping Anunit’s wrist. “Hold on. You keep talking about a god. Are the Dainians worshipping the Earth Hermessi?”

  “Nah. They’re worshipping someone who’s not supposed to be here,” she replied, then resumed her walk, beckoning Unending and me to follow. But the more she spoke, the more curious I became.

  “Someone who’s not supposed to be here? You’re talking in riddles,” Unending muttered.

  “A long time ago, a strange man came to this land. He was immortal, and he knew magic the likes of which the Dainians had never seen,” Anunit said. “Naturally, they were in awe of him. They’d never witnessed such phenomena before. Their lives had been simple. The only thing they’d worshipped were the natural elements. As I mentioned before, that Da entity they basically named their realm after. But this guy showed up and poof! Everything changed.”

  The city’s inner streets were narrow but surprisingly neat. The Dainians had put a lot of work into this impeccable symmetry. Every corner was straight. Every surface was smooth. There were workers cleaning the sidewalks, making sure nothing was out of place. Each leaf that fell ended up in their dustpans. I wondered how many hours a day they spent nitpicking at their city like this. Were the other settlements the same? They had to be. If a so-called god had raised the stone giants to build bridges, surely he would’ve done so for every city in this world. How would he have earned the worship of an entire population?

  “Who was this immortal?” Unending asked. Anunit had her full attention. No surprise there, since immortality had always been the work of my beloved wife, and she’d been decommissioned long before this godlike man had come to Dain. “An Aeternae, perhaps?”

  Anunit shook her head. “Oh, no, darling. They never made it to this far corner of the universe. No, this immortal is actually the subject of your second trial.”

  The statement brought us to a sudden halt. “What?” I managed, my brain glitching slightly. This Reaper had a way of weaving stories and bouncing from one subject to another with such impressive speed that she was hard to follow at times.

  “You have to kill him,” Anunit said. “You have to kill the Dainians’ god.”

  “So, bringing us here isn’t just about the triple full moons,” Unending breathed. Her forehead smoothed as she understood the complexity and gravity of what would come next. I was stunned. We were being asked to kill someone, and it didn’t feel right. I worried what terrible demands she might make next.

  “No. It’s an added bonus,” Anunit replied. “Listen, it’s simple. You’d be doing me and the Dainians a favor, believe it or not. This guy thinks he’s a god—or poses as a god, anyway—but he’s a freaking psychopath and deserves worse than the swift death I’m sure you’ll give him.”

  “Whoa. Back up there for a second,” Unending said, raising her hands slowly. “I’m not killing anybody until you tell me exactly what this is about. We’re missing important information here.”

  We’d stopped beneath an old tree—surprisingly, the Dainians had built their sidewalk around it, adding a decorative border to its patch of grassy dirt, each stone cube beautifully hand-painted with what I could only imagine were local ethnic motifs. The repeating patterns spoke a little bit about their culture. But the border could only distract me for so long as I tried to control my breathing. I gave Anunit an alarmed glare. “You need to explain yourself.”

  “His name is Shezin. He’s Death’s former lover.”

  That revelation paralyzed us both. Anunit noticed our astonishment. It didn’t surprise her. It only made her laugh, perhaps too hard and with too much delight, considering the circumstances.

  “You weren’t the only one to fall for a mortal,” she told Unending. “Death loved someone, long before you were made, and she made him immortal. You’d think she’d have learned something from this experience before she made you. Turns out she didn’t. Now Shezin needs to die.”

  The sudden dump of information that Anunit had bestowed upon us was mind-blowing. Naturally, it paved the way for more questions about the veracity of her statements and Death’s crappy habit of keeping secrets. Clearly, we were still peeling away at the true Death, and I had a feeling that Anunit, as suspicious and incomprehensible as she could sometimes be, was pretty much the only one who could help us get to the whole truth.

  Unending gave me a brief glance. There were no words between us, only blood-curdling shock as we tried to adjust to this new reality. Death had taken a lover once, much like Unending. She’d made him immortal, much like Unending. However, unlike Unending’s beloved, Death’s was still walking and talking, apparently worshipped as a god on Dain. And I’d thought things couldn’t get any crazier.

  Tristan

  We left the plaza behind and moved north through the city. I had to tilt my head back to look up at the Dainians—their appearance never ceased to amaze me. The existence of stone giants was equally fascinating, though it did sort of remind me of Calliope’s Dearghs. They were creatures of fire and stone, lava flowing through them with the force of life, while the stone giants of Dain were creatures of slumber and stone who only rose once, summoned by this Shezin fellow.

  Death’s former lover.

  I still had trouble wrapping my head around this one. The hypocrisy was too much to bear. It made my blood boil, and I wasn’t accustomed to living with this much anger inside me. Death’s past had come back, not only to prove she was just as flawed as the rest of us, but also to bite her in the ass because I was pretty sure this entire situation was just the kind of ammo Unending needed to discredit Death in front of every single Reaper out there—or at least it gave her the option.

  The North had taller buildings with rounded towers and wooden stables, polished taverns, and open courtyards filled with flowers and trimmed bushes. There were shutters on
every window, just like there had been when the bridges were built. The river rushed nearby, its crystalline waters licking at the rocky banks below the cobbled promenades. The smell of roasted vegetables and spiced pies lingered in the air. Glasses clinked in the tavern across the street from us, raucous laughter pouring out onto the street. These people seemed happy and prosperous.

  “Why would we kill Shezin?” I asked. “The Dainians aren’t showing any signs of distress.”

  “It’s only your first day here,” Anunit replied, leaning against a wall. Red blossoms trickled from a ceramic pot close to her shoulder, where the windowsill had been loaded with flowers and small leafy plants. This was a place that valued the fine craftsmanship of old wood and the importance of beauty in one’s surroundings. There was nothing that pointed to any kind of trauma. “The surface may be pretty, Tristan. It’s what lurks beneath that you want to watch out for. The Dainians seem happy, yes. Their lands are bountiful. Their gardens lush and ripe with fruit. Their tables are never bare, their plates never empty. Song and dances fill the night, and girls with braided hair and fluttering linens dance around the fire in the open squares. Yes, for all intents and purposes, Dain is nothing but jolly and vibrant.”

  “Yet when no one is looking, we must pay attention,” Unending said, sighing, picking up on Anunit’s reasoning. “They’re keeping secrets, aren’t they? Secrets they won’t even address among themselves.”

  I wasn’t shocked by this concept, but I was still curious. “How do you know?”

  “The stolen glances the Dainian men give one another. The three sets of iron locks on each door,” Anunit said, and Unending nodded slowly. “Why would these people need that many locks on their doors if this is a peaceful settlement?”

  “Where is Shezin? How did he get here?” I asked.

  “Oh, I don’t know where you can find him. You can mingle with the locals or eavesdrop on hushed conversations, or you can follow the full moon processions through the city. His location is your last concern right now,” Anunit said. “You need to understand how the Dainians really see him. As for how he got here, well… Death brought him over, from what I’ve learned.”

  “Learned from whom?” Unending asked.

  The Reaper shot her a cold grin. Some secrets were hers to keep. “He was supposed to keep a low profile and live a bountiful existence in the mountains far south of here. Obviously, he didn’t. I mean, while Death stayed with him here, he did.”

  “Well we know she left at some point,” I mumbled, my gaze wandering over to the river where barges moved lazily from one side to the other, carrying barrels.

  “She met Shezin in another world. He was supposed to die. She had gone there to reap him. This was during a time when there were barely a few hundred living creatures in most of the realms,” Anunit explained, plucking a red blossom and bringing it up to her nose to smell it. From the moment she touched it, the flower vanished from sight. Fortunately, none of the people who passed by us paid attention to a disappearing detail, otherwise I was positive it would have caused a stir, or at least a gasp. “Death could handle the reaping part of things since she was omniscient. The problem with omniscience—as far as Spirit knew about it, anyway—was that it exhausted her. Death never liked having to be in many places at once, let alone in a thousand worlds to reap a thousand souls across who knows how many dimensions? But in those times, she did it. It was before the first Reapers.”

  “So, she met Shezin as he was about to die,” I said.

  “Yes. It was love at first sight. She found herself standing before him, breathless by the intensity of his emerald eyes, his boyish smile, and his thirst for life. A boulder was about to crush him. You see, Death could tap into the mathematics of the universe. It’s how she knew if someone would perish. The odds were not in anyone’s favor, in the end. But she couldn’t bring herself to let that boulder finish Shezin off. She crushed the stone into bits and pieces. They turned to chunks of diamonds upon meeting Thieron, spreading across a vast surface that later became a desert. It’s said that Death’s presence there and her interference with the natural order somehow caused the earth to dry up in that place. Consequences, I suppose.”

  Unending frowned. “The universe was younger. Raw. More reactive.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Where did Shezin come from?” I asked again.

  Anunit gave me a wry smirk. “Just two planets over,” she said. “That civilization is long gone now. The solar system expanded—the sun was too far away to keep that world warm enough to sustain life. It withered and died. But the diamonds that were once the boulder meant to kill Shezin are still there. Sometimes, with the right telescope, you can see those desert plains glimmering in the night. I know the Dainians have an observatory farther up the river, in a neighboring city beyond the northern mountains. I used it once or twice myself, curious about that sight. It did not disappoint.”

  The night was approaching slowly from the East, darkness engulfing the incandescent pinks and yellows of a lazy sunset. The temperatures would soon plunge, and I could already see the Dainians emerging from nearby homes with thicker furs on their backs. I looked forward to seeing the three full moons in the sky, wondering if they were anywhere near as spectacular as Neraka’s. Purgaris had six, but they were so small that barely one had qualified as an actual moon.

  “While Death and Shezin lived here, away from the eyes of the living, the Dainians were developing their civilization,” Anunit continued. “They were tribespeople at the time. Something happened much later—I’m kind of murky on the details—but it ended with Death leaving and Shezin staying behind, still immortal. For a while, he kept to himself. I’m not sure how long. Besides, time didn’t matter much to him, if you think about it. But one day, he emerged from the mountains and walked among the Dainians.”

  Unending gasped. “I can only imagine what they must’ve thought of him. My guess is it’s easy to tell he’s not from around here.”

  “Absolutely,” Anunit said, chuckling. “He’s tall and handsome and whatnot, but nowhere near the height of the Dainians. At first, they abhorred him. They killed him, more than once, or so they thought. But he kept coming back. Now they worship Shezin. He’s the immortal. The one fated to live forever. He helped them with the bridges and many other tricks they refer to as miracles. You see, during his time with Death, Shezin was smart enough to listen and learn.”

  I shook my head slowly. “You still haven’t gotten to the reason why we must kill him.”

  “Like I said. You have to find out for yourselves.”

  “Why, though?” Unending asked. “Why can’t you tell us?”

  “Because you obviously don’t trust me enough to believe me,” Anunit said. My wife and I had thought that already, but it was refreshing to hear it from the Reaper herself. At least all three of us knew where we stood in this twisted dynamic. “I give you three days. Three days to find Shezin and to learn the whole truth of him and Death. But remember—by the end of these three days, he must die. Otherwise you will have failed your second trial. If it’s any comfort, and at the risk of repeating myself, you’ll come to understand that he deserves the worst. Shezin is a monster.”

  I scoffed. “It’s unfair. You’re asking us to take a life. The laws of the universe are explicitly against interference from Reapers in the affairs of the living.”

  “It doesn’t have to be Unending who kills him,” Anunit replied, eyeing me intently.

  She was expecting me to murder Shezin. Because that was what it was—murder. We had absolutely no proof that Shezin had done anything to deserve such a fate, and of course I couldn’t trust Anunit for it, either. What if this was some kind of trick? What if Anunit had a hidden agenda that required Shezin’s demise?

  “Three days, then I will come back for you,” the Reaper said, raising her chin. It would no longer be contested. This was our only option besides failure. She disappeared, and Unending brought her scythe out to do a brief sweep of
our surroundings, confirming that she was actually gone and not hidden, eavesdropping.

  “We’re alone,” my beloved murmured. “There’s something weird going on here.”

  “You mean besides Death’s shamelessness?”

  Unending raised her eyebrows. “Yes, I admit I did not see that coming.”

  “We need to talk to Death about this,” I said, and she agreed, closing her eyes for a moment. A telepathic connection was established between Unending and Death while I kept my focus on the cobbled street. As the sky dimmed into a darker blue hue and threads of fiery red sliced through the western horizon, the city was preparing for evening. The Dainians were leaving their places of work, groups of them flocking to the taverns over on this side of the river.

  They rowed boats across the water, the men tying their small vessels to massive wooden pillars. They unloaded cargo which they then carried home to their wives. I imagined children as tall as me happily welcoming their fathers and aiding their mothers in preparing supper. The Dainians had a simple, good life here. So, what was it about Shezin that made Anunit so determined to see the end of him?

  He’d helped them build bridges over the river. Surely he’d contributed to their prosperity. No one here seemed weary or hungry, broken or terrified. Anunit had a point though—we’d have to infiltrate the Dainians and find a way to get to the truth. Unending had already caught subtle signs of distress, but without more information, no conclusion could be drawn. It just wasn’t enough to warrant Shezin’s death sentence.

  “I can’t believe it,” Unending breathed as she returned to me in mind and soul. Her galaxy eyes were wide, round and filled with billions of stars that twinkled in the black distance. “I can’t believe it…”

  “What happened? What did Death say?”

  “She doesn’t know anything about Shezin. She has no idea who we’re talking about.”