Prologue - Betrayal

(original 2004, edits 2023, wip)

The procession walked casually among the massed columns of troops, five hooded figures dressed from head to toe in dark grey robes, each tied at the waist with a rope dyed a deep crimson denoting their status among the company. Silently they moved in single file through the ranks with not so much as a glance upward as they passed each warrior. The grand army of Tyrak stood at attention awaiting the coming ceremony, which after nearly one hundred years of war could be a welcomed change. Thousands of spears, pikes and ax-heads protruded out of the sea of iron and grey with heavily armoured soldiers wielding great swords and shields, standing proud at the head of each regiment.

A lone flag bearer stood perfectly in place in front of them all, the emblem of Tyrak entrusted to him sat high above on an elaborate rune-covered spear flickering about in the wind. The large T-shaped emblem was designed in such a way that it appeared as though it were the upper row of teeth belonging to a vicious beast, with massive fangs hanging almost the length of the banner down either side. With a slow step the five walked toward a large white pavilion in the center of the field, far across the moonlit vale another army stood defiantly flying navy blue banners high above them, the troops cheered as a second party of hooded figures wearing the deep navy of their house emerged from the masses of fighters. They quickly joined their counterparts under the pavilion and all as one they lowered their cowls, revealing to all an eerie pale skin.

“Lord Tyrak, Lady Tyrak…” the Lord of the House Maelagar directed his speech to the first of the grey clad figures.
“You honour us with your presence here in our homeland,” A tall, broad shouldered man dressed in the grey of Tyrak cut in, “Spare us your groveling Maelagar,” He glared at the Lord of the Maelagar with eyes so deep they were almost black. “Groveling…” Maelagar glanced at the powerful warrior a moment, before disregarding the comment. Thomas had dark shoulder length hair pushed back behind his ears, his finely chiseled features and pale skin, whilst combined with his athletic body created an illusion of beauty yet cut a powerful figure in the shadow covered vale. “Lord Maelagar,” The massive figure of the Lord of Tyrak was intimidating for most men, but Thomas towered a full head and more over this vampire. Thomas looked down to lock dark piercing eyes with Maelagar, moving his head only slightly. “I trust all the documents are in order?” He inquired whilst motioning for a smaller, thinner figure to step forward and introductions were made. “Dyr’Saa, my…aide,” He spoke in a low husky voice, almost a whisper on the winds of eternity. Dyr’Saa was different from the rest of the contingent, his skin whilst pale was a deep grey with two scars running from his brow, through his eyes and finishing at his jaw, he wore his hair drawn up in to a single topknot, creating a long ponytail beginning on his scalp. With a wiry claw like hand he reached out toward Maelagar and accepted the offered scrolls, “I shall examine these a moment,” Whilst looking almost barbaric in appearance Dyr’Saa spoke in a practiced and perfected manner, the result of centuries of diplomatic relations among the nobility of the lands.

* * *

Christina moved silently through the dense woodland, a ghost whipping thru the trees. Each step carefully placed to avoid the scattered mess of twigs and leaves dropped from the canopy high above, yet the swiftness of her step could easily be mistaken for carelessness. After many years of wandering the wild, speed and stealth to Christina was second nature, more often than not her existence depended upon it, as it did now.

It wasn’t often that Christina could be found if she didn’t approve of the idea, but of course in those rare few cases she had resigned to the idea that it was purely luck that had revealed her to her pursuers, certainly not any lack of talent on her part. The waning sunlight lit her path only slightly, heavy foliage from the surrounding forest veiling all but the finest of the suns rays. Of these there were few and that was the way Christina liked it, like most of her race she avoided the sun and much preferred shadows or the feint moonlight of the night.
Quickly, without making a noise beyond the rustle of her long dark cloak she made her way toward a large outcropping of rocks, the bright sun now disappearing almost entirely over the mountains to the east.

Run!

The word echoed in her mind like the sound of a hammer striking tempered steel, and run she had. Christina didn’t turn back, she could hear the commotion across the field behind her as thousands of soldiers began to encircle all that she once knew.

Run Christina! Do not stop!

Memories danced in her mind as she moved to the edge of the forest, flashes of friends, of family and of an ancient stronghold nestled high in the cliffs hung strongly in her thoughts, all of them vying for the attention she so valiantly deprived them of.

She snapped her head to the left as yet another thought began clawing at her mind,

Christina... it was a different voice, softer, yet she knew it well.

Christina, have you fed this evening? A hunger deep within began to rear its ugly head but the irritatingly persistent sun kept her at bay.

Christina The almost serene voice overpowered all other thoughts,

Christina, why have you abandoned us…? The voice cut deep and for the first time since fleeing the battle, Christina stopped. She stood motionless, lost in of times long gone, and yet the voices seemed so real,

Christina… No more than a whisper in her head she listened close.
It is you… Sarah…Abandon? No…I… As though a bonfire had been lit within her Christina suddenly burst, fuming with rage. I didn’t abandon you!

Her thoughts though unbidden quickly replied in an almost primeval roar, “I didn’t abandon anyone! I loved you like a daughter, trained you, fed you, and you repay me like this!? You all repaid me by abandoning me!?”
Christina attempted to compose herself, drooping her head low she prevented another unexpected outburst, her face was moist, her throat coarse and her blood as hot as a forge, yet there was no one there except the echoing voices from within. I didn’t… Exhausted from her mental battle she slumped to the ground in a heap, like a sack of potatoes fallen from a cart.

Run! The voices whispered once more.
Why Christina, why?

It was becoming all too much for the once poised and perfect Lady of Tyrak. Her comrades, her lover, her Lord, all dead and now they have returned, but for what, to torment her? Christina asked herself, Why?

It wasn’t long before the answer manifested You abandoned us…
Perhaps a hunt would quell her marauding thoughts she pondered, Yes…I hunger…

With the bright light of the waning sun entirely diminished Christina gathered her cloak about herself and set off toward the smell of wood smoke in the distance, the deep indigo sky and the rising full moon casting a long, deep shadow behind her as if she were trailed by a being composed of pure darkness.

Yes The voice reinforced the vampire’s own thoughts.

Yes we do…