Chapter 416: Chapter 413: Rise

Chapter 413: Rise

 

  Lord Koval took a step back from Veres and nodded solemnly. “I entrust you with my legacy, Veres. My greatest masterpiece. My will reborn in steel. My Bloodfang.”

  The world abruptly fell into a blur of darkness like a blotch of ink on wet paper. Gone was the tower in the mountains. Stryg found himself in a dimly lit castle chamber. He tried to speak, to move, but all he could do was watch as the scene unfolded, an unwilling passenger in a memory of dreams.

  A ring of tall candelabras surrounded two figures at the center of the chamber. The hazy scene began to clear and Stryg was able to make out the faces of two strangers. One was much younger than the other, yet both looked very similar. They had scarlet eyes, a somewhat pale complexion, raven-black hair, and a sharp nose. After a moment, Stryg recognized the older of the vampires, it was Veres, though the passage of time had left its mark. Strands of grey were strewn through his hair. Wrinkles stretched across the edges of his eyes and forehead. A silvery scar ran across his neck and up the side of his cheek, barely missing his eye.

  “Callum, my son, do you know why I’ve brought you here tonight?” Veres asked in a quiet, somber voice.

  Callum? Stryg wondered. This wasn’t the Callum he knew. An ancestor then.

  The young man shook his head hesitantly, “I’m not certain, Father.”

  Veres closed his eyes in recollection. “No one thought the Ebon Realm could change. Everyone believed the Realm of Monsters was doomed to devour itself, one life after another, ever hungry for power. I was born into war, armies clashing against one another without care for the villages they trampled along the way.”

  Veres smiled bittersweetly. “I wouldn’t have survived if it hadn’t been for Gale. I would have never made it out of the bloody Northern Lands.”

  “I wish I had known her,” Callum whispered.

  “Yes, as do I… I still see her. In my dreams. ...I couldn’t save her. So I devoted my life to destroying every enemy she had. I became your grandfather’s sword and I bathed these lands in death.” Veres clenched his fists tight and sighed, the anger and strength leaving his body, “And somehow through all that rage and bloodshed, we found peace. We slayed the opposing Ebon Lords and the few that remained we forced into submission. And somehow, your grandfather managed to enter a peace treaty with the Sapphire of the East, the Great City of Lunis. Peace… that is the realm you have grown up in.”

  “Father…?” Callum asked carefully. 

  “Do you know what your people call your grandfather?”

  “Koval, the Unifier.”

  “Yes, the ‘mightiest’ of the Ebon Lords,” Veres chuckled softly. “Koval was a genius of enchantments. He was never one for war, he hated it. He loved to create, that was his passion. Koval cared for me like the son he never had, but he always feared Gale for her power, and I always resented him for that.”

  Callum frowned, “Why are you talking about Grandfather like he’s gone?”

  Veres pulled out a note from his pocket, its wax seal broken. “Your grandfather is dead. The news will reach Frost Rim in the next two days I imagine. The peace Koval and I worked so hard to build will crumble apart. The countless lives sacrificed for this fanciful dream we dare call ‘peace’... will be meaningless.”

  “No,” Callum shook his head adamantly, “We can’t just let things fall apart. We have to stop this before it gets away from us. We must ensure the rest of the Ebon Lords do not turn on each other again. We must—”

  “—Fight. We must fight, Callum. That is the only thing we can do. War is coming to the Northern Lands once more.” Veres sighed deeply, “But I am tired, my son... This body cannot weather another endless war. The peace your grandfather dreamed of dies with him.”

  “So you’re just going to give up?! After everything?” Callum’s voice cracked, his eyes wide with disbelief.

  “You don’t understand. You’ve never truly experienced what war does to the land, to the people, to you. It will destroy everything around us.”

  “So we’re doomed?” Callum said weakly.

  “No. Our House will weather this storm because I’ll never give up on you, or your sisters and brothers. And neither shall you.” Veres drew Krikolm from its sheath and held the blade up high. “May the bloodline continue, now and always.”

  The parallel black and white magestones flickered brightly for a moment, then the bright scarlet hue drained from the blade like blood draining from a slit throat.

  “Father, what are you doing!?” Callum asked in a panic.

  “Blood, Callum! Blood is what binds us. Blood is the one thing that echoes through time. It is your duty to protect the bloodline even when all else is gone.”

  He swallowed hard, “Father… I…”

  Veres’ expression softened, “You are not alone in this, my son. You’re half-brother—no, you're older brother, Aluin Gale, will be by your side. If it wasn’t for Koval forcing my arranged marriage with your mother, I would have married Gale, and Aluin would have been my heir, not you. Yet Aluin holds no resentment against you for his lot in life, in fact, he loves you and your siblings more than anyone. His mother’s will lives through him, as does her magic.”

  “It is not just his magic, Father,” he admitted. “I have seen the way Aluin wields your sword style. He hasn’t just mastered it, he’s improved it. I’ve never seen anything like it. The way he moves… I could never live up to him.” Callum’s shoulders trembled and he hung his head low, “Aluin should be your heir, he should have Krikolm, not I.”

  Veres nodded thoughtfully, “It takes a great man to admit his faults when a crown is presented to him. You are right, of course. Aluin’s potential is great. Someday, even the Ebon Lords shall fear him, like they did Gale. …Yet when I asked Aluin to be my heir he refused me. He said he wished to be his mother’s heir, not mine. Then he did something I never expected, he swore to protect you and your siblings for as long as he shall live.”

  Callum smiled weakly at the thought, “Aluin, he— I don’t deserve his loyalty.”

  “No, you do not, but he gives it all the same.” Veres grabbed him tightly by the shoulder, “Blood, my son. Blood is what binds us. Aluin will not abandon you, so do not abandon him.”

  Callum’s expression grew resolute. “I shall not abandon Aluin or his heirs. Our Houses shall be one, now and forever. One will not rise without the other, this I swear.”

  Veres smiled, then his voice became like steel, “Kneel.”

  Callum shuffled forward and dropped to his knees. He closed his eyes and bowed his head. 

  “Repeat after me,” Veres said solemnly and placed the point of Krikolm over his son’s bowed head. “I am the sword of my blood.”

  “...I am the sword of my blood.”

  “I am the bane of my enemies.”

  “I am the bane of my enemies.”

  “Be it monster or man, I shall end them all.”

  “Be it monster or man, I shall end them all.”

  Veres stabbed Krikolm into the stone floor between them both. With his head still bowed, Callum pricked his thumb with his fang and reverently smeared the blood over the blade. The sword’s sigils darkened, its parallel magestones shined with an inner light, and the blade bloomed a brilliant scarlet red once more.

  “Rise, Lord Veres, Second of your name, Heir of Koval and Veres, and take hold of your future.”

  Callum slowly stood to his feet, his eyes burning with a newfound resolve, and gripped Krikolm’s hilt.

  The world fell into a blur once more and Stryg found himself falling through the darkness, unable to stop it. The world changed and there appeared Lord Veres II, with his daughter. After a deep conversation he presented her Krikolm and named her Lady Veres I. Then darkness flooded Stryg’s vision again.

  Small fractured glimpses of Krikolm’s past inheritances flowed through Stryg’s eyes. He felt as if his body was being jostled through time, falling through the sky, only to land in the same castle almost a dozen times. 

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  His world shook around him again, the familiar blur taking hold, then he was in a familiar room, but it was not the chamber of these past memories. No, he knew this place. He had been here once before, his Callum had shown it to him. This was the Veres throne room in their mansion at Hollow Shade.

  Yet it was not Callum’s father, Eldrin, Lord Veres IX who sat on the throne. It was a beautiful woman with pale brown hair, high cheekbones, and a button nose. Lady Veres VI. Alice was her name, Stryg recalled from the last memory. He supposed this woman was the namesake of Maeve’s mother.

  Dozens of people stood within the throne room, watching from a distance, but their visages were blurred at the edge of the memory. A small boy stood closer than the others, leaning from one foot to another in excitement, but he too was in a haze.

  Alice suddenly stood up from her throne and drew Krikolm. “May the bloodline continue, now and always.”

  As the blade lost its scarlet color Alice walked down the steps to the only other figure that was in focus, a woman kneeling at the base of stairs. Her face was obscured by her snow-white hair, though her pointed ears poked out from the sides. Blue pointed ears.

  “Blood, Stryga. Blood is the one thing that binds us,” Alice recited.

  Stryga…?

  The kneeling woman raised her head and looked at her mother. Stryga’s deep purple eyes were steady, without the fear and anxiousness her predecessors had carried during the ceremony. “Blood is the one thing that echoes through time,” she responded calmly.

  Stryg couldn’t help but stare in confusion. Why… Why does she look like…?

  “It is your duty to protect the bloodline even when all else is gone,” Alice finished.

   Stryga nodded. “Now and always.”

  Alice smiled at her daughter. “Well said, my Blue Rose,” she whispered warmly.

  The name sent shivers down Stryg’s spine. Blue Rose? The destroyer of Lunis?

  No, it couldn’t be. The Blue Rose was a Veres? Why was her name Stryga? Why does she…

  Why does she look like me!?

  Stryg wanted to shout and roar in frustration, a thousand questions on his lips, but his body did not move.

  Alice placed the point of Krikolm over Stryga’s head. “Swear the oath.”

  “I will be the sword of our blood and the bane of our enemies. Be it monster or man, I shall end them all,” Stryga swore solemnly. 

  Alice spun Krikolm around and stabbed the sword into the stone steps between them.

  Stryga bit her index finger until she drew blood and slowly drew a single crimson line over the silver blade.

  Alice smiled as Krikolm shined a brilliant scarlet. “Rise, Lady Veres, Seventh of your name, Commander of the armies of Hollow Shade, and take hold of your future.”

  Stryga rose to her feet and reached out and grabbed Krikolm.

  The vision broke apart and pain washed over Stryg like icy needles stabbing into his muscles. He gasped in shock and opened his eyes. He was in the troll king’s throne room once more. He was still kneeling on the ground, his hands gripping his sword’s hilt, as he rested his head on the pommel.

  Blood continued to trickle down his forehead and bleed onto the relic sword.

  No, it had a name. 

  In the memories, they had called the sword Bloodfang, a name that provoked a hundred more questions in Stryg’s heart. 

  But the world knew it for another name—

  “Krikolm!?” King Alok shouted in a mixture of fear and awe. “It cannot be… Why does someone like you have Krikolm!?”

  Stryg wanted to answer. He wanted to tell him that his mind was still reeling from what he had seen in the sword’s memories. He wanted to shout he had no goddamn idea why Krikolm was in his hands. But his body didn’t answer.

  Stryg’s fingers trembled from the wounds and sheer cold elemental energy swirling outwards from the king’s armor. He couldn’t feel his extremities and his breath was shallow, each breath coming slower than the last.

  As his mind began to fade into sweet unconsciousness he heard a voice.

  Swear the oath, Lord Veres I whispered in his mind.

  I can’t… move… Stryg thought numbly.

  Swear the oath! Lord Callum’s voice joined.

  Swear the oath! several more voices echoed.

  Swear the oath! the voices of Veres predecessors yelled, an angry storm in his mind.

  SWEAR THE OATH! Stryga’s voice boomed like a hammer smashing through the cacophony. 

  Swear the oath… They all spoke at once. This time there was no anger, only a warmth that seeped into Stryg’s muscles. 

  Swear the oath, they said softly.

  Stryg parted his cold lips, “…I… will be the sword of our blood… and the bane of our enemies… Be it monster or man… I shall end them all.”

  Stryga’s voice resounded clearly in his ear, as if she was sitting next to him, “Rise, Lord Veres.”

 

 

 

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