The Messenger

Located at the peak of a desolate hill in the easternmost part of Nocteraia, the main building of the Blackcross castle rose more than three hundred feet into the starless sky. Like a gothic citadel made of charred bricks and greasy clay mortar, the building sported a rather unique pair of protrusions at the sides of the castle. The pair of bat wings were given form and strength by tons of reinforced steel, showing no signs of wear for well over a couple of centuries. To complete the dark aesthetic of the Blackcross castle was a pitch-black wrought-iron gate, infused with an obsidian-onyx mixture, which made the gate glimmer under the moonlight. The castle was the home of the oldest vampire family in Nocteraia, the Blackcross family.

 

 

In the guest room of the Blackcross mansion, a man took his last, gurgling breath. The image he saw before his soul departed was a pale, scarred individual with deep-set scarlet eyes. Draven Blackcross let the corpse fall with a thud on the carpeted floor, the body half drained of blood. Wiping his mouth, he stepped over the body and opened the window. A strong wind immediately brought a scent of pine to his nostrils, stirring the leaves of the great Oak in the center of the manor. Draven gazed at the full moon, stealing occasional glances behind him toward the locked door. His confidante was late; Draven intended to get this meeting over with quickly so as not to be discovered in the Blackcross guest room.

 

Lately, he’d been thinking about the hierarchy of power among the four great vampire houses. His Blackcross family stood at the top, seeing that he held the title of Vampire King, a title conferred upon the leader of the entire vampire fraternity in Nocteraia. But lately, he’d felt his reign slipping. He was slowly losing the trust of each leader of the other houses. The Nightcreed house was next in rank, and though he and its leader, Owl Nightcreed, generally saw eye to eye, his wife, Carmine, plotted against him. Draven sighed. The truth was he didn’t much care what the members of the other vampire houses thought of his leadership. His anxiety was based on something else entirely. Echoes from his dark past were suddenly streaming into the present time, threatening to not only unseat him but to banish him forever. Of course, Draven couldn’t let that happen. He would do everything in his power to preserve himself and his power.

 

He walked over to the mantlepiece and dimmed the light from the crystal chandelier. As he did so, a soft ‘whoosh’ told him his confidante had arrived. A bird had perched on the window sill, resembling a shadow with a consciousness. It leaped onto the carpet as their eyes met. The raven cawed softly, before transforming into a man with long, greasy hair. Clad in a well-tailored, deep-crimson velvet coat, he smiled, baring accentuated canines.

 

“I hate to be kept waiting, Crowe,” Draven spat, advancing on him.

 

Crowe gave a slight bow, his eyes on the corpse.

 

“How did he taste?” The vampire turned the man’s face over with his polished shoe. “Not a trace of juice left in him.”

 

“Update me on your findings,” Draven said brusquely.

 

Crowe was silent for a while as if gathering his thoughts.

 

“Well, I managed to breach the Sisterhood. Took me a while, but it turns out your theory was correct: The Alphatenory Brotherhood isn’t as protected as Beltraine. I managed to slip through the magical protection there without much effort.”

 

“Good.” Draven nodded. “Therefore, we can form a plan to infiltrate in number, overwhelming them.”

 

“Not exactly,” Crowe countered. “Remember, my gift is special among vampires. I only succeeded because they made no magical provisions for ravens, which I assume they think are extinct. Even then, I was still discovered.”

 

“You were caught!?” Draven exclaimed, his voice rising a couple of octaves. “Then, what happened?”

 

“They burned me with magical fire,” Crowe explained. “I would have been killed had it not been for a lucky detail in how they tried to kill me. But the mission was a success, I think. You wanted to find out about the scope of the protection surrounding the institution. Well… it is elaborate, but penetrable.”

 

“And the Mothers?” Draven tensed as he waited for Crowe’s reply.

 

He fastened the topmost button on his coat as a cold breeze streamed through the open window, fluttering the curtains.

 

“Alive,” he whispered. “I only saw one though.”

 

“Then how did you determine they are all alive if you admit to only seeing one?” Draven inquired.

 

“The vestals. I saw them all. I know a vestal will cease to exist if the Mother who created it dies.”

 

Draven nodded. “Yes, that is my understanding from what the leader of the Moonshadow house told me.” Draven regarded Crowe, feeling slightly disappointed by what he told him thus far.

 

“And is that all you discovered?”

 

Crowe emitted a mirthless cackle.

 

“Aren’t you the least bit curious about how I actually managed to survive the fire they used to try to kill me?”

 

“Don’t waste my time, Crowe! I asked you for information, not riddles!”

 

Crowe offered a pained smile, his teeth and red eyes glinting.

 

“You see, the witches used a Channeler to pull their energy from.”

 

“And?”

 

“It turns out,” Crowe continued, “the Channeler is a vampire.”

 

Draven was silent for a long while. Crowe’s last revelation was the reason he’d sent him to Beltraine in the first place. For the sake of his continued leadership for decades to come, Draven wanted to eliminate all potential threats. With the mention of a vampire at Beltraine, Crowe had all but confirmed a suspicion he’d had for some time now. It turned out that his greatest threat happened to be from a source dating back to his childhood, someone spoken about in a prophecy he took for granted until now.

 

“A vampire at Beltraine!?” Draven exclaimed, feigning surprise. “Under the eyes of the three most powerful witches in Nocteraia who hate vampires to the core? That’s interesting… very interesting. How did you determine she is a vampire?”

 

Crowe sneered.

 

“My many talents include aura detection. I saw traces of the dark gift inside her. She is definitely one of us. The question of how she’s avoiding detection by those Mothers is baffling to me as well.”

 

But Draven wasn’t listening to what Crowe was saying. His mind had gone off on a tangent of thought when his confidante mentioned that the vampire was a Channeler.  

 

“Crowe,” he said, his head hung low, deep in thought. “Have you ever heard of a vampire also being a Channeler? Seems almost paradoxical to me.”

 

Crowe smiled. “That’s the best question you’ve asked tonight. There is only one other time in history when that happened. That is why I was late in coming here tonight. I was doing some research. I...”.

 

Draven never got to hear what Crowe said next, for he blazed toward the door. He’d recalled exactly where he’d heard of a person being both a Channeler and a vampire, and he was a fool if he sat idly by while such a mythic entity bloomed until it could kill him. Draven intended to crush Beltraine before they crushed him. But he had to plan like the devil to pull it off. After all, he wasn’t only fighting against the witches, but the other vampire houses as well.