By Ghost
(formerly Terra Incognita)
Here's a new story for ya'll, hopefully the first in a series. I was disappointed with my last stories-they were excessively dramatic and wordy and had plot holes (the first one wasn't really a story by definition). Here's a new attempt. I've been very interested in the Razielim and their situation, so I'll write about them. NOTE: Don't assume that these and future stories are somehow linked to my previous ones.
| I would not fear the rain were
I not alone. Each droplet that slips through the cracks of the charnel
house roof I hide under singes my skin and only heightens my fear. Fear,
I thought I'd never know it past that warm night I first woke up at the
Father's feet. I first saw fireflies floating between the railings of the
balcony, back when trees and grass were commonplace for fireflies to rest
upon. As I turned my head the stars caught me. I gazed into their twinkling
eternity for what seemed like hours. As my mind wandered I began wondering,
"Who am I?"
I turned my head once more to see Father standing there, calmly, patiently, even smiling. At once I felt fear and horror as I quickly backed away, but a fraction of a second later a feeling of admiration slowed my escape, and then his eyes stopped my movement all together. "Hello, Adele," he said as he walked slowly to where I sat against the railing. "Who are you?" I asked, already knowing, somehow, who he was. He knelt beside me and lifted a chalice he held in his claw to my lips. The blood energized me, and warmed me. The comfort it gave only heightened as he stroked my hair as though I were a young child. "This is Father, my father," I thought. Warmth. That is how I knew he was near. Even during the great Manor Wars in the blistering hinterlands his presence warmed me. I feel cold now. Ever since that morning four months ago I have not felt his warmth. I shove off the meager armors I managed to take with me before the storming of the Clan Fortress. The memory of corpses of my fellow Razielim lying in the bloodied earth while the Dumahim and Melchiam soldiers drank and sang horrifies me, and I wonder what my dreams would be like had I power to dream. Chance left me outside of the Fortress and chance let me live long enough to get here, in the far south of Kain's empire. Weakened, I stand. I'll have to leave the armor behind, as I am too weak to carry it. The breastplate saved me from a human spear, and the helm kept my head from a Dumahim foot soldier. My claw was too fast, however, and soon I had him impaled about a long-dead tree with his own spear. Had I time to think before his fellows would be there I would have taken the sword. Humans, I smell them. Their saint is faint with the reek of old death from the charnel house. As quietly as my hooves carry me I follow the scent to a clearing in the middle of a live forest. Luckily soft grasses quiet my weakened, uncoordinated steps. Humans, three of them. A woman and two young children. They appear to be digging. Roots, I suppose. Humans are not this foolish. To be digging, to be exposed, out in the open is suicide for such frail creatures. A new scent, vampiric. Another Razielim? No, no, it cannot be, I would have known. The Humans, they move indeliberately. They seem to dig without purpose. No, these facts build in my mind. Were I not famished I would have known. Ambush. As I turn to run a spear hits the tree my head was just next to. I should have seen this, I should have known. The humans scatter. I would too, but I have no exits planned. How could I be so foolish? Four Dumahim, each wearing light armor and carrying spears. There it is again. Fear. I know it now. I am familiar with it. I can get around it. They are young, untrained. The higher ranking soldiers must have thought anyone they encountered would be too weak to fight back. "I am Razielim, I am never weak," I say loudly. One stops, surprised to hear my words, and makes himself vulnerable. A rock I quickly throw causes him to drop his spear, but the other three rush quickly to me. Their reaction is slow and their fighting unskilled. I parry each blow knocking down one and impaling another on her allies' weapon. The third I quickly disable with a blow to the head, though he will be able soon. The first soldier I disarmed with the rock is coming now, with another soldier I did not see advancing as well. It was he who threw the spear for he has none now. The last soldier on his feet near me came at me now, dagger in one hand and spear in the other. I deflect the spear blow to the side but in my weakened state am too slow to block the knife which he thrusts firmly into my side. I ignore the pain, and do not flinch. Flinching only happens the first time you are stabbed. I push his head upwards with my elbow to unbalance him, pull the knife out of my ribs and stab him in the throat. He flinched. He falls back, grasping his throat. I have a weapon now, his spear. First I knock away the spear of the warrior I had first hit with the rock, then knock him over with the butt end of my weapon. As the final soldier rushes near me I throw the spear which lodges itself in his stomach armor. As he tackles me the spear falls away. I'm not much of a wrestler, and this male Dumahim was much larger than I. I was the frailest of Father's daughters, but that never kept me down. This Dumahim was not a wrestler either, as he was rather unbalanced while we fought on knees. I have him down on the bottom soon enough and with a convient sharp branch, had him through the heart. Wasting no time I pluck the spear I had thrown at the most recently deceased and fight with the first Dumahim and his now-awake sibling. Both have the same weapon as I but lack the same skill. The groggy soldier I impale soon enough, and with his spear, have the other by the shoulder caught onto a tree. He stands there, squirming, each movement causing him great pain. He stops and stares at me with trembling eyes. I take a dagger from one of the corpses and hold it to his chest. "Do you feel that? That is fear. I felt it too. I felt it because of you and your scum bretheren. Have you ever felt fear before now? It's new, isn't it? Frightening in and of itself, right? Well, thanks to you, fear is not new to me, I know fear, and I don't fear it anymore. You, however, will never have the opportunity to know fear." I slowly push the slim dagger into his heart. His claws, which were previously frozen and grasping the spear in his shoulder are now in my back, cutting deep into my vampire flesh. I close my eyes and thought of what I am doing now, and how he had probably done the same to one of my kind. He enjoyed doing it to them then. I enjoy doing to him, now. As his claws loosen I know he is gone. I look around at the devastation around me. Five vampires dead. Death is an odd thing to vampires. We are, to an extent, dead, yet we "live". We are somewhat immortal. There is always a tommorow for us. For these vampires, there would be no tommorow. That is what they feared, that is what we all fear. I would chase the humans, but I am too tired. Tired, another new feeling. In Father's care we were never hungry, even during the great wars or during a human famine or drought. Blood energized us, and we were never tired. I walk a few hundred yards from the scene of the battle and climb up a huge tree. Near a large branch in the trunk there is a cavity. I crawl in and get comfortable in the rotting tree matter. I will do what living (for I am alive) things do when they are tired. Sleep. I've never slept before, but I never felt fear before either, and I never felt tired before, or hungry, or alone. I've never dreamed before, either. What will I dream of now? "I'll know... tomorrow," I say as I slowly shut my eyelids. |