Chapter Four, “Gunder”

A closer look at Merik's past and life as a vampire.

Chapter Four

“Gunder”

 

 

 

 

 

            A resounding deep chime penetrated the corridors and hallways marking safe passage for the estate’s inhabitants.  Desiree woke to the new evening and heeded her instructions to meet the Grand Sire and Azriel.  There was no option of delaying her obligation.  She was sure they would be waiting for her even now.

            Beautiful and popular, it was difficult to resist distractions as many beckoned her their way.  She politely refused each invitation extended to her, wondering how many pleasant nights she would have to sacrifice to her new mission.

            She reached the double doors of a colossal circular room in the center of the building that the clan referred to as the temple.  She had only seen its inside a handful of times before.  The clan’s diverse range of religions shared the space, depending on what evening of the week or phase of the moon it was.  Desiree, who did not consider herself to be of any specific religion, rarely required its use.  She would not forget her first trip inside, however. This was also the room traditionally used for siring ceremonies.  It was in this room that she was born into life as a vampire.  She filled with a reminiscent sense of apprehension reaching for the door handle.  Giving a hard tug she pulled it open and stepped in, in one fluid motion.

            She was right. Santeego and Azriel both sat waiting for her in the center of the candle lit room.  There were no chairs, but each of her hosts resided upon large overstuffed cushions on the floor.  She joined them spotting a third pillow-like seat waiting for her.

            “Good evening, Elders,” she respectfully greeted.

            Santeego acknowledged her arrival with a nod of his head.  His dark hair swayed as he watched her take her seat.  “I trust you told no one you were coming here tonight?” 

            “No, Sire,” Desiree assured, noticing the magical ornaments that lay in the center of their seating arrangement upon a cloth.  Among them was a large shallow black bowl with scarcely enough water to cover its wide base, a bundle of tightly wound sage, and an obscure dried gourd that Desiree had never seen before.  She gazed at the instruments feeling as if they were sitting around a campfire.

            The bowl seemed to illuminate itself somehow, and Desiree had to remember the only presence of light in the room was coming from the hundreds of flickering white wax candles at the distant edges.

            “I asked you to come here tonight because before accepting your mission I feel it is important you well understand the history behind it.”  Santeego’s dark eyes moved over her.  “Merik, as you already know, has a personal vendetta with Gunder.”

            “Yes, Sire,” Desiree replied.  She stuttered growing nervous where this was leading.  “Merik had mentioned last night something about the Vega Orb.”

            “We will get to the details of your assignment later.”  Santeego would not allow the evening to be rushed.  “First you must fully comprehend the delicacy of the situation.  Azriel is going to assist us.”

            Desiree glanced down at the dainty cloth burdened with magical devices.

            “Ere our continuance, I must caution that what you are about to witness will be less than amusing,” Santeego warned.

            Desiree was unsure how to respond.  After asking Merik for so long what had occurred between himself and his sire, this felt wrong.  She felt as if it should only be left up to Merik to decide if she should know.  On the other hand she could not repress her longing to finally discover the truth.

            Azriel leaned forward off her cushion.  “I must have complete and total silence while performing this spell, until I say otherwise.”  She touched the bowl with her left hand sending the water within into a gentle rippling motion.  Her right hand was extended out into open air as if waiting for something.  She held it steady until one of the random candles came to her open palm.  She left it hovering above while she took the sage in hand and carefully lit it, never removing her other hand from the basin.

            Santeego and Desiree both stared avidly as she performed her spell work not daring to say a word.  Desiree did not even blink for fear of disturbing the magic.  As impressive as it was to watch items levitate, Desiree did not even notice the candle smoothly sail back to its stand.  She was more concerned with watching Azriel’s hand that was seemingly glued to the bowl, as if she were transferring her very life force into it.

            Azriel brought the smoldering sage over the surface of the shallow water where its smoke sank at once thickly collecting and filling the remainder of the bowl.  It looked like nothing more than fog or steam at first, as it swirled and glided upon the water.  Azriel allowed the smoke to pour steadily in, until Desiree wondered how much more could fit before spilling over the edge.  She had never seen one of Azriel’s spells in such detail before and did not have much concept for magic.

            The density of the smoke intensified until Desiree couldn’t be sure that if she touched if it wouldn’t feel solid now.  There were no wispy swirls or transparent clouds left.  The bowl was full to its brim with a smooth grayish surface as if it had been filled with concrete.

            Ariel extinguished the sage and removed her hand from the rim at last.  Immediately the water beneath the seemingly solid surface began to glow a brilliant blue illuminating the fog.  The smoke began to move again, taking shape.  Desire felt numb as she watched it rise out of but not beyond the borders of the basin.  It was like watching a three dimensional television.  A three dimensional reenactment of grey-blue figures.

            A tiny version of Merik lay in a trench, holding a rifle.  It was difficult to distinguish the events surrounding him but the idea of war was clearly conveyed.

            Azriel broke open the dried gourd and a sound like a rushing wind came forth until it too echoed into shape, clear and focused.  Desiree flinched and clasped her hands to the sides of her head as a very real sounding explosion filled her ears.  The sound was in perfect compliment to the actions within the smoke.

            “Very well.”  Exhausted, Azriel gave permission to speak freely.  “The spell is set.”

            Before Desiree could utter a word she heard Merik’s voice ring out amidst popping and crackling gun shots.

 

            “Forget it!”  The tiny figure shouted.  “We don’t retreat!  Help is coming!  Hold the line!”

            Another soldier’s voice, weak and scared, yelled back over the commotion.  “The captain is dead!  We’re pulling out!”

            “We’re staying!”  Merik demanded stubbornly.

            A blast went off near him as the last few remaining comrades fled the scene.  Merik no longer moved.

            Desiree’s heart fell, regardless of her knowing that the real Merik was somewhere safely in the building with her now.  She wished for the tiny figure to get up out of the mud.

            The sounds of gunfire began to die away, and enemy soldiers could be seen approaching.  Desiree lifted her head from the events to observe the elders hoping for some clue of what was to come next.  One of the enemy soldiers was moving dangerously closer.  She didn’t want to wait for the bowl to get to it, she wanted to know now.

            Santeego gave her a look of disproval and she returned anxiously back to the scene.

            The armed man hovered over Merik a moment before kicking him with a muddy and blood soaked boot.  Merik gave a stir, not quite dead yet.  His enemy raised his gun, pointing it carefully at Merik’s head.

            A swift blade stroke later, the enemy fell beside Merik, lifeless and bloody staring out empty eyes.

            Desiree was bemused.  She could not see what had saved Merik at first.  She could not guess the new form the smoke made coming in from the shadows.  With a gasp of surprise she recognized it at last.  Even in the blue smoky light she would never miss that sharp blond hair.  Gunder’s lanky form stood over Merik, watching him down his long pointed nose.  He had saved his life.

 

            The scene changed now, to the inside of a small cabin.  Merik lay on a cot, still brutally injured.

            “Is- Is that?”  Desiree spotted another in the room with Gunder and Merik.  Her heart jumped at the sight of someone their clan viewed to be a great threat, Gunder’s lead witch, Willa.

 

            Willa was short in physical stature, giving her an all around stubby appearance.  She had the same shoulder length greasy black hair even then.  She kept perfect posture and a snobbish cool tone.  “Our position here was not to save these foolish beings, but to harvest the blood they spill from each other.  You are inviting hardship, Gunder.”

            Gunder sighed.  “You should have seen him, Willamina.  These past few days I’ve watched him�"intently.  His strength of will, determination, and bravery are the least of his faults.  I’ve never encountered a mere mortal quite like him before.”

            “Didn’t stop him from getting hurt did it?”  Willamina looked him over in disgust.  “At least clean him up.  He reeks of death.”

            “Santeego will want to know of this one.”

            “Santeego…  You plan to turn him?”

            “I’m next in line for succession to the council of elders, Willa.  Grand sire will be the next step, and if I am going to reunite the clans under one rule again, I will need a strong team behind me.”  Gunder sat at a worn wooden table resting his feet on an empty chair.

            “You have me,” Willa cast darkly.

            “You are not a team.  I need a full council.  It will take centuries to build,” Gunder argued carelessly.  “Besides, this is destiny.  I did a simple reading on him.  It’s predetermined, that he has something to do with bringing the clans back together.”

            “You?  Did a reading?”  Willa scoffed.  “You couldn’t read the alphabet in the proper order.  Leave the magic to me in the future.”

            “Think what you will.”  Gunder shrugged pouring himself a large helping of crimson.  “I am not willing to relinquish this opportunity, no matter the cost.”

 

            The smoke swirled violently changing the scene once again.  Gunder was having a conversation with a nearly healed Merik at the same worn table.

            “At the end of the week, Merik, we are returning to America.  Our family is waiting for us there.  We would be most honored if you would accompany us on the journey,” Gunder offered though Willa sneered a little in the corner.

            “Back to America?” Merik questioned.  “I don’t think I can.  I mean I want to, but…  I’m supposed to be with my regiment.  If I return without notifying someone, I could be arrested for desertion.”

            “Your regiment is gone, Merik,” Gunder persuaded.  “They more than likely assume your death.  You have a chance to start fresh in life.  I’ve already contacted my family.  They’ve agreed to take you in.  No one will even know you’re alive.”

            “That’s kind of you, really, but you’ve been over generous as it is.  I couldn’t impose anymore than I already have.”  Merik refused the offer politely.  “Besides, there’s someone I have to get in touch with.”

            Gunder’s eyes narrowed.  “Do I sense a companion of the female gender?”

            Merik shied.

            “Ah, so it is,” Gunder confirmed.  “So, enlighten me.  Tell me about this girl.”

            “What words can I use to describe Joyce?”  Merik smiled.  “She’s my everything.  She’s the earth, moon, ocean, and sky.  She’s as beautiful as a grove of wildflowers, and as warm and welcoming as a ray of summer sun.”

            “Do you hear this, Willa?  I think we have a poet on our hands.”  Gunder called across the room in a chuckle.

            Willa murmured too low for Merik to hear, “A bad poet.”

Merik grew bashful.  “I swore if I ever made it back to America, I would never spend another day apart from her.”

            Gunder knew this could be a real obstacle and decided to act upon it quickly.  With a false air of concern he made his comments.  “It sounds like you really love her, but what if she’s moved on?  How long have you been over seas now, a year?”

            “Not my Joyce,” Merik answered confident.  “We’re to be married soon.  Even have a little flat together in New York.  She wouldn’t turn from me even if the most handsome, richest, prince came to carry her off.”

            “You’re a lucky man, Merik.”  Gunder lifted his stein secretly concealing blood to Merik’s beer.  “Sounds like you’ve found the kind of love that most spend whole lifetimes questing for.”

            Merik clinked his mug to Gunder’s, slightly tipsy, as if toasting.  “She would die for me, and I for her.”

            He drained the last of the beer, but Desiree noticed Gunder didn’t drink.  Something about Merik’s last comment seemed to spark some unspoken thought in him.

 

Desiree grew impatient as the scene changed again.  Where was this going?  Why had she never heard about Joyce?

 

            “I’m glad you decided to come with us.  I hope all works out well with your Joyce.”  Gunder and Merik descended from a ramp of a large ship, Willa remained close behind.  Porters and ship hands hurried about the dock unloading cargo in the chilled night air.

            “Thank you for the ship’s fare.  I never would have made it home without you.”  Merik was grateful.

            “Come have one last drink with us before seeking out your long lost love,” Gunder begged.  “Unless you can’t find it in your heart to repay my hospitality by such a simple gesture.”

            Merik did not want to disappoint the friends that had taken such generous care of him and accepted one last toast to their alliance.

            The three of them began down the boulevard to a tavern.  Gunder clapped his hand down on Merik’s shoulder.  “Excited about seeing her tonight?”

            It was needless for him to ask.  Even Desiree could see a light in the little Merik’s eyes she had never seen before.

            “Oh!”  Gunder stopped mid-step.  He glanced back over his shoulder dramatically.  “Wait, I forgot.”

            “What?”  Merik slowed his steps realizing Gunder was now a yard behind him and Willa.

            “I need to stop at customs,” Gunder whined.  “You go on without me.  I’ll catch up with you.  It won’t take but a moment.  Willa, you get him started for me.”

            “We can come with you,” Merik offered.

            “No, don’t worry about it.  I’ll be right along.”

            “You’re sure?”

            “Absolutely.”  Gunder exchanged a significant look with Willa who guided Merik along in their original direction.

           

            Desiree never saw what Gunder claimed to have to accomplish at customs.  She began to suspect how the spell worked.  That it could only show scenes Merik was in, whether conscious or not.  The next sequence the bowl showed was Merik drinking merrily with Gunder and Willa at a table in the corner of a bar.  They laughed and shared one last memory together, before saying their goodbyes.  Gunder slipped Merik a piece of paper at the end of the evening.

            “This is where we will be staying for tonight.”  He closed Merik’s hand over it.  “We depart for home tomorrow evening.  If you need anything, please let us know.”

            “I will.  Thank you.”  Merik gave Gunder a brotherly hug.  “You have been a true friend.”

            “And you have our regular home information as well?”  He asked breaking away from him.

            “Yes.  It’s in my knapsack.”  Merik nodded.

            “Good.”  Gunder gave a slap on the back.  “You keep in touch.  I’ll be watching the post to hear from you.  And remember to say hello to your lady for me?”

            “I will.”  Merik moved to Willa and gave her a brief peck on the cheek goodbye.  “You both take care.”

            He waved back from down the street to his still watching friends, but stopped his excited march home only for a simple bouquet of flowers.

 

            Desiree didn’t want to watch any longer.  She had a sick sense that she knew what Merik was going to find.  Tears began to well up as she watched the little Merik open the door to Joyce’s apartment.

 

            He tiptoed inside, peeking around corners, as if hoping to catch her off guard.  It was late but Merik still seemed confused by how dark and silent everything seemed.  He checked the bedroom.  The covers weren’t neatly made, but Joyce was missing from the bed.  He ran his hand over the mattress and pressed his face to a pillow that was heavy with the scent of her perfume.  Not in the kitchen.  Not on the sofa.  Everything quiet.

            A high pitched drip echoed in the tiled bathroom down the hall.  Merik turned in its direction discovering the silver strip of moonlight that escaped it.  He crept toward it and pushed gently on the unlatched door.  It creaked open bathing him in terror as he flipped the light switch.

            There in the porcelain, claw-footed-tub was the limp, pale, cold body, of his beloved Joyce.

            The bouquet slipped from Merik’s numb fingers.  She was neck deep in her own diluted blood.  His eyes followed a flaccid outstretched arm from the tub to a small pool of blood beneath.  Just beyond the pool a piece of paper lay on the floor, just as lifeless.

            Before Merik could reach it, he hurtled reflexively to the toilet heaving the alcohol he had consumed with Gunder.  He fell to his knees as everything spun about him.  Shakily, he retrieved the note after several empty grasps.

            He looked it over.  It was simple and short, in Joyce’s handwriting.

           

            “Forgive me,

                        I can’t go on without him.”

 

            Merik mumbled still shaking horribly.  “She thought…  She didn’t get my letters… Didn’t know I was…”

            A horrible retching sound cut him off and a second splattering was made into the toilet.

 

            Tears streaked down Desiree’s cheeks.  She hated herself for begging Merik to tell her this story so many times.  No one should be made to relive something so horrible.  It was with complete understanding now, why he refused to share.

 

            The miniscule replica of her friend was shown outside a shabby motel room.  He barely had the strength to give two irregular knocks.  His arm couldn’t lift more than a few inches from its resting position.

            Gunder vigilantly cracked the door open.  “Who’s th-  Merik?”  He allowed it to swing forward as far as the cramped room would allow.  “I didn’t expect to see you so soon.  Come in.”

            Merik stumbled through the opening, dragging his knapsack behind him.

            “What’s wrong?” Gunder ushered him in with an innocent, brotherly arm.  “Willa, get a blanket for our friend.”

            Merik allowed Willa to wrap a blanket around his shoulders still seeming to be unable to speak.  He slumped down into a chair, losing his bag several feet before.

            Gunder sighed closing the door.  “It’s Joyce, isn’t it?”  He traveled to Merik’s side.  “I was afraid of this.  So many times I’ve heard tales of young girl’s getting lonely while their soldiers are over seas.  Take comfort; you aren’t the first.”

            “No, it’s not that… She’s… She…”  Merik swallowed hard putting immense effort into holding his stomach down again.  “Dead.”

            “Oh, Merik.”  Gunder bowed his head as a remarkable performance of sympathy.  “Merik, I’m sorry.”  He sat down next to him.  “Willa, a glass of water I think.”

            Willa didn’t hesitate to obey Gunder’s order.  Merik shook his head as if to say he did not want anything to drink, but took a sip despite himself.

            “Do you know what happened?  Who informed you?”

            Desiree thought Gunder played his part exceptionally well.  He almost even had her convinced.

            “It was suicide.”  Merik paused in shock.  “I saw the body.”

            Gunder bit his bottom lip giving a solemn pause himself.  It was all very well rehearsed.  “Merik, I want you to reconsider coming to stay with my family.  It is a rather serious decision to be made, and I can’t explain why.  I can only tell you that my family is somewhat unorthodox, but if you trust me, I can guarantee a long and fruitful life.

            “Thank you.”  Merik accepted for lack of options.  “I am truly grateful.”

            “Get some rest.”  Gunder insisted while making certain that the curtains were drawn tight against the coming sunrise.  “We will have much to discuss when we arrive at my family’s estate, and a long way to travel.”

           

            The scene was immediately followed with Merik’s siring ceremony.  Merik lay lifeless on the floor, as Gunder stood, covered in blood, above him.

            Several vampires whom Desiree did not recognize came forward, wrapping Merik in a fine cloth and placed his body elegantly on an alter.  The candles in the smoky scale replica of the same room Desiree sat in now, were extinguished one by one.

            The council of elders marched out without so much as a whisper.  Or so it seemed at first.  Before the door could finish closing Willa appeared, pulling Gunder back into the temple.  Encased in shadow she hovered over Merik grinning devilishly.

            “So he went through with it.  I’m impressed.  I must say, I didn’t think you could pull it off.”

            “You aren’t supposed to be in here, Willa.”  Gunder warned.

            “Ehh!  Tradition!”  She scoffed.  “Still.  I’m impressed.”

            “Please.”  Gunder sneered.  “It was child’s play.  I pride myself on my psychological skills.  It was only a matter of time once I got his foolish lover out of the way that he would come to us.”

            “But I still don’t like it.”  Willa playfully pouted.  “You have had the benefit of fresh human blood twice within the course of a week now.”  Willa walked seductively to Gunder and took his hand to lick some of Merik’s blood from his wrist.  “The least you could have done was allow me the fiancé.”

            “And risk suspicion of foul play?  It had to be done right.  It had to look as a suicide.  What’s more, it had to appear that it had happened days ago.”  Gunder’s tone sounded more as bragging than anything.

            “I could have done it.”  Willa sneered.

            “Even so, the importance is to me.  You know as well as I now, that this boy is to play some key role in reuniting the clans.”  Gunder argued.

            “Yes, I know it.”  Willa circled around Merik’s body like a vulture.  “I know it better than even you, I think.”

            “Tell me.”  Gunder knew Willa was holding something back by a teasing wild gleam in her eye.

            “Reuniting the clans is impossible without him.  He and only one other can accomplish the task.”

            Gunder strutted about like a peacock prideful of its feathers.  “And that one other is me, right?”

            “I don’t know.”

            He halted seething within.  “What do you mean you don’t know?  What good is your magic to me if you can’t tell me such a simple answer?  I was destined to reunite them!”

            “You were destined to find what would reunite them.  There’s a difference.  You’ve found Merik.  Any more than that is not for me to decide.  It’s Merik’s decision.  He will choose the companion to rule at his side.  He cannot do it without that one, and that one cannot do it without him either.”

             “No matter.  What better choice than your sire?  I will be successful yet.”  Gunder collected himself.  “I knew it was him from the first moment I saw him.  He has so much passion for life, trapped within this mortal flesh.”

            “Not anymore it would seem.”  Santeego stepped forward.

            “Grand Sire!”  Willa and Gunder exclaimed in unison, bowing low.  Neither knew the portion of conversation he may have overheard.

            “I thought I heard voices.”  Santeego spoke grievously.  “I agree Gunder, there seems to be great potential within the boy.  Even in this week’s short time, I have recognized it.  However, you know our laws.  You are not to be in this room until tomorrow evening, and certainly not speaking.  I must ask you both retire to your separate quarters now.”

            Gunder guided Willa pushing her from the room, and bowed again, excusing himself as well.  “Of course, Sire.”

 

            Desiree wondered how much more there could possibly be to see when the scene took the form of the dining hall.  It was Merik’s reception into the clan.  Everyone always looked forward to these rare parties.  Smiles were pasted on every face; faces that Desiree had never known capable of smiling.  Gunder and Willa seemed to be the only one’s not smiling.  They looked anxious, with expressions that suggested they were calculating their options.

            The evening was concluded shortly with Merik’s first taste of blood.  A great cheer rang out, and with congratulations each clan member left to their rooms.

            Santeego remained behind with Merik still sipping on his blood.  He observed the departing clanmates like a watchful father.  When he spotted Gunder slipping out with Willa, he called them back with assertion.

            “I need a word with you both please.”

            Many of the last straggling members of the clan scurried out sensing Santeego’s lecturing tone.  Azriel did not budge from Santeego’s side looking quite irate.

              Merik was unsure if he was to stay or go.  Putting one foot forward, he was abruptly stopped by Santeego’s brisk grasp on the shoulder.

            “You may stay, Merik…”  Santeego spoke with intoxicating conviction.  “There seems to have been some insubordinate tasks at hand that I must bring to light.”

            Merik seemed startled by Santeego’s domineering attitude.  He had only just met him, still in shock at the existence of vampires, whereas opposed to Gunder, who company he had come to know and enjoy in the past couple of months.  He kept rapt attention upon the grand sire as he continued his speech.

            “You are next in line for a place on the elders council, are you not, Gunder?”

            “Sire?”  Gunder questioned as if having no concept what this could be about.

            “I am stunned that you would jeopardize your ascension right so carelessly.  It disgusts me that you take actions of your own free will that are of such a distasteful nature.  The both of you!”

            “Sire, surely I don’t kn�"”

            “You took a human life, unjustly, and without permission!  You manipulated innocence into actions to best suite your selfish ends!  We are vampires, Gunder, NOT murderers!”

            Gunder made a stifled guffaw, trying to deny the charges.  “I can’t understand what makes you say such things, Grand Sire.”

            “DO NOT Play The Fool With Me!  You are a disgrace to this clan!  This boy has shown honesty, compassion, spirit, and a dedicating bravery that exceeds the expectations of any average human.  You would repay these assets by awarding his love her mortality?”

            It took a moment for Merik to translate all that was being communicated.  The precise moment he comprehended Santeego’s adamant words could be pinpointed by the falling chalice from his grip.

            “Joyce?”  Merik spoke softly in utter disbelief.  “You�" You did that?  How could…”  His shaky voice trailed.  A new fire burned in Merik’s eyes.  Swelling with rage he stared Gunder down speaking dangerously low.  “I’ll kill you, I swear by it!”

            Gunder did not seem as phased by Merik’s vow as would have been hoped.  “In time you will come to understand the sacrifice that had to be made.  I’m your sire, Merik.  Who will you learn from?  Like it or not you need me.  Who else can help you realize your destiny?”

            “I will take him on as my charge,” Santeego clarified.

            Gunder acted as if he had not heard him.  “I am sorry, Merik, but it was necessary.  Her life was a small price to pay for you to realize true greatness.”

            “Her life was no small price!” he raged in retort.

            Gunder began to lose patience.  “I saved you in the battlefield.  I gave you the gift of immortality!”

            Merik looked to a coat of arms plastered to a nearby wall.  He lunged forward ripping a sword from the display.

            Gunder didn’t show any sign of alarm.  He lifted an impatient eyebrow at Merik.  He surely thought he was being silly acting out this way.  Willa remained glued to Gunder’s side ready to defend him if needed with her magic.

            Merik charged at him haphazardly.  In one swift flawless motion Santeego disarmed him.  “No, Merik.”  He held the hilt of the sword in one hand, and kept Merik at bay with the other.  “I understand your feelings on the mater and you have every right to take vengeance, but he will kill you in battle.”

            “Well spoken.”  Gunder passively admitted that he would not delay to end Merik’s life if absolutely necessary.

            Santeego raised the sword with a threatening air.  “I believe I hold favorable opportunity, in Merik’s stead.”

            Gunder gave a hearty guffaw.  “Do you now?  Come now, Santeego.  We are friends, you and I.  You would take it upon yourself to carry out such punishment?  I thought you had left those days behind you.”

            Santeego lifted the foil high through the air striking down with ample force.  Gunder stumbled backward feeling the breeze from the blade brush his cheek.  He had underestimated Santeego’s will.  If he had failed to dodge the blade by a fraction of a second more the injury could have been fatal.  He looked reflexively down to see a shallow scratch were the sword had managed to touch his shoulder.

            Santeego brought the tip to Gunder’s chin forcing him to raise his face to the ceiling.  “I suggest you make your peace.”

            “NO!”  Merik bellowed.

            Willa and Azriel both turned at the cry, abandoning their preparation to interfere with Magical assistance.

            “IT’S MY RIGHT!”  Merik stopped Santeego.  “He will die at my hand if it’s the last thing I do!”

            “I’m sorry, but you would not be proficient.”  Santeego denied never lowering the foil tip.

            “Then let him live!”

            One corner of Gunder’s mouth curled upward into a vile grin.

            “Let him live so I can kill him another day!”  Merik spoke with despise.

            Gunder spoke triumphantly as Santeego withdrew the sword from his neck.  “Youth’s true sense of honor.”

            Santeego’s eyes narrowed.  It was against better judgment that he was allowing this.  He wavered, seeming to be unsure of himself.  Merik was right.  It was within his means to one day take vengeance for the crimes committed against him.  If Merik refused Santeego as champion on his behalf, he could not carry out the act.

            “You are henceforth banished from this domicile!”  Santeego decreed.  “You, and any that would pledge allegiance to you will leave now!  I suggest you make haste…  Dawn approaches.”

            “I no longer need this clan anyway.  I will indulge myself in having my own.”  Gunder swelled with pride.  “Come, Willamina.  I fear these peaceful times are over.”

 

            The sound around the room began to distort itself.  Gunder’s last few words seemed to echo as it thinned into silence.  Desiree quickly wiped a tear away as the glow from the bowl dimmed and the smoke dissipated.  Santeego’s somber words took center stage once more.  Desiree noticed a stifling choke in his voice, causing her to wonder if he too had been crying at recollecting the events.

            “Shortly after all of this, Gunder did succeed in establishing his own clan, taking many of our members with him.  They have been an adverse foe ever since the last eve shown here.  It is only Azriel’s magic that protects our estate.  They can not set foot upon our ground without invitation.”

            “I’m sorry, Sire, but I still fail to see the relevance to the orb that Merik is researching.”  Desiree responded weakly.

            “Merik has made it his ambition to put an end to Gunder, as well as his goals.  World War II came shortly after and Gunder took great inspiration from the Germans; perhaps because it was his country of origin so long ago.  He dictated that our race is better than that of mere mortal man.  Although as we saw tonight, he and Willa always seemed to have these seeded views.

            “He feels we are superior to humans and began to obsess over some of our earlier legends.”

            Desiree shook her head.  “How can anyone feel that way?  We were human once too.  He’s bound to get us all killed.”

            “I’m glad to hear that you appreciate the delicacy of the situation.  Yes there is a good chance if he becomes too brazen we will face termination.  Humans are not ready to know of our livelihood.  They fear what they do not understand, and I fear folklore and legend have made us to be viewed as vile monsters.”  Santeego agreed.  “Merik has presented himself as a thorn in Gunder’s side, many times.  Over the years Gunder has managed to keep faith that if he lets Merik live, that Merik will one day forget about Joyce�"forget what happened.  But we all know that is not the case.  Gunder can’t undo what has been done, and his patience is beginning to wan.  I fear for Merik’s safety, should Gunder find his involvement in opposing him is a factor once more.”

            “So forbid it.”  Desiree begged.  “Tell Merik he isn’t to participate.”

            “I’m afraid it’s too late for that option.”  Santeego explained.  “He has stumbled upon a special circumstance.  He has found himself privileged to information that no other member of our clan can access.”

            Desiree listened intently as the details of her assignment unfolded.

            “Merik has established an obscure alliance with a mortal, that allows him research at a private facility.  In the past two short evenings spent there he has already broken more ground on the Vega Orb than any of our clan have been able to collectively.”

            Desiree didn’t seem at all surprised that Merik had had so much success so quickly.  After seeing the events of his past, she was certain he would be the most determined at the quest.

            Santeego licked his lips thinking carefully as how to further define the situation.  “Merik however has not come across this information of his own accord I’m afraid.  The alliance he has made is with a young witch, and she is a great asset to us at the moment.”

            “A young witch?”  Desiree questioned crestfallen.  She had pictured Merik working tirelessly with a gruff old librarian with a long white beard almost as dusty as his decaying books; not some beauty with magic powers.

            “Yes, a witch.”  Santeego restated.  “This is why I’ve called for your services Desiree.  Merik has not only put himself in jeopardy, but has compromised the safety of this mortal as well.  What’s more, her being a witch complicates things further.  If you ever feel she is beginning to suspect Merik’s true nature you are to inform us immediately.”

            “Is she powerful?”  Desiree asked Azriel as if not taking in anymore of what Santeego was saying.

            Azriel shot him a disgruntled stare for being so tactless.  It was common knowledge that Desiree wanted Merik for herself, and it was natural that she would be jealous watching anyone spend countless evenings with him while forced to hide in shadows herself.  She blinked before answering respectfully.

            “I am looking into that matter.  At the moment, I have no reason to believe she isn’t very common place.”

            “You’re assignment is very simple.”  Santeego finalized.  “Track them, watch them, protect them, but do not allow your presence to be known, and do not discuss this with anyone.”

            Azriel gave a distinctive cough disproving of his insensitivity.  She was perhaps the only elder that could get away with such behavior.

            “Point is, Merik will no doubt be drawn to trouble like a moth to a flame.  I trust your expertise in this mission.  I have confidence you will do well.”   Santeego finished from under Azriel’s watchful eye.

            “I think I understand.”  Desiree gradually rose from her cushion.  Her voice was dull and lifeless.  “Thank you, Grand Sire…  Elder.  I will be discreet.”

            She left not wishing to see or speak to anyone.  She had too much filling her mind.  She harbored unbearable tension in every muscle.  She had a great deal of aggression to work out.

            Her fingers nimbly worked through her long blond strands weaving it into three separate elegant braids as she walked.  It was in preparation for the training forum that she did this.  Gunder had not been conducting much suspicious activity in the past decade until recently, and many of the clan began to neglect the training forum.  Fighting was not most of the clan’s strong point to begin with, which Desiree would not complain about.  While others were off painting, working with chemistry sets, and writing infamous screenplays, Desiree had the dojo to herself to perfect a fighting style unlike any other on the planet.

            It was Merik who had originally inspired the style, when she had accidentally slapped him in the face with the tail of her braid while sparring with him one night.  Merik’s face welted temporarily and she would never forget his irritated words as he rubbed the mark.

            “Dang it, Desiree.  Keep that up and no one will fight you.  That thing is a weapon in itself.”

            Desiree made the smallest of smiles at the memory as she bowed through the entrance.  She promptly stretched and proceeded to tie silver spikes to the end of each of the three lengthy braids.  Merik had been right; with a little tweaking they were a weapon.

            She began her routine flipping and turning around the forum.  Her bare feet slapped the polished floor.  She took hold of a katana off a weapons stand never losing momentum.  It was flawless motion, much like a dance.  Each mock strike of the sword and soaring of the talon tipped braids was in rhythmic precision.  She closed her eyes mid step reaching out with the other four senses to know her surroundings.

            One mistake, and she could slice into herself with the katana, or lose a braid.  A talon in all probability would sink into muscle if not kept in constant check.  It wouldn’t be the first time.

            This was peace to her.  She was free here.  Free to lose herself in the cadence of controlled precision.  She could strike any given target, high or low by way of swinging these braids.  She learned that early on.  Stopping them took much longer to master.

            Desiree threw out an open arm allowing all three strands to wrap around it, and grabbed the talons without injury.  She halted the katana mid-swing, and opened her eyes to find Merik inches before her face.

            “Something wrong?”  He asked in reaction to her fierce workout.

            She drew back feeling all the tension of the evenings prior events return at the sight of him.  “You can have the floor.  I’m done.”  The spikes were placed back in their proper padded box, and the Katana was quickly sheathed and redisplayed as well.

            Merik, utterly confused, watched her bow out of the doorway, slip on her sandals, and depart down the hall.

            Merik, after sliding into his foot coverings as well, persistently tracked his friend into the dining hall where she sat keeping a solid grip on a chalice.

            “What’s with you?” he demanded.

            She sat at a table not giving in to his confrontational mood.  “Nothing, I’m hungry.”

            A few other vampires in the room took immediate notice to the building tension and parted hurriedly.

            She took a swig from her chalice and gave a shuddering gasp of a cough.  She sputtered between words as if it had gone down the wrong pipe.  “Aren’t- you supposed- to be looking for something?”

            “Ouch.  That was harsh.”  Merik played it off sitting beside her.  “Still mad at me about keeping secrets, huh?”

            “No.”  Desiree pulled the cup closer, feeling insecure at a sudden rush of sympathy for him.  “No, of course not.”

            Merik found prompt obscurity in this action.  It was never Desiree’s style to back down this way.  His focus narrowed to the chalice.  “What are you drinking?”

            “Pig’s blood.”  She answered quickly pulling it closer still.

            “Bull S**t!”  Merik grabbed the chalice.  “What the hell, Desiree?  You don’t drink.”

            “I don’t see it as any business of yours!”  She snapped.  “Besides, you drink.”

            “Yes.”  Merik hopped to his feet.  “Celebrations, happy occasions, not to drown my problems!”

            “Give it back!”  Desiree ordered.

            “I’m not giving you the whiskey, unless you tell me what’s wrong right now!”  Merik denied for her own good, keeping it well out of reach.

            “Fine!”  She shot back.  “I guess I’ll have to just go and conjure some up elsewhere.”

            She retreated stubbornly leaving Merik holding the liquid in confusion.