Chapter Two: Dishonored

  Long, furious strides carried me forward. I stormed through the halls; the carpet swallowing the sound beneath my feet. The courtyard stones answered me at last, a heavy pounding chased my steps as I crossed onto the cobbles that led to the grand entrance.

  I’d barely made it outside when I froze. My senses alerting me to the shifting of familiar energy and aura: one moment the condensed mass of unholy power had been in the ballroom, then suddenly it was halfway down the halls.

  Xiandra… how did he find out so fast? I thought, swearing inwardly. When just as suddenly as before, the sensation vanished only to reappear in a blur of motion, now standing in the keep’s entrance the man seeming to both appear and blur into position simultaneously.

  Tall and gaunt, with pale ivory skin wrapped in golden adornments, his cape billowed wildly seemingly come to life once again the leather flapped in the wind like terrible wings, catching up to the violent acceleration his body must have endured.

  Yet he showed no sign of strain; he stood bolt upright, a hawkish glare boring into me with hooded eyes. Then, as if amused, his expression softened and he vanished again, appearing only a foot from me this time.

  “When I told your sister to stay out of fights and you to stay out of sheets, I didn’t mean for you to start fights,” he said in a cold, scathing voice. “Do you care to explain why you plan to duel the fiancé of a family friend so that you may… flay him twice?”

  He stared down at the boy before him, chewing his words as if tasting them. The boy’s bearing was proud, broad, straight shoulders and a head held high. His face was almost an echo of his father’s, save for his mother’s hair. Yet he’d changed in the last year more than he had in forty before: more formal, more hierarchical, and with a serious sadistic streak that would have seemed impossible twenty years ago. His son simply wouldn’t have asked for such a thing.

  “Father. I didn’t start the fight or initiate the duel. Darvneev challenged me without cause, and I tried to dissuade him several times until, he called me a False-silver and a coward.”

  His father’s eyes went cold; his ears rose and fell as he schooled his face. “Then you had no choice. But in future, do not allow anger or personal desire to cloud your judgment. You could have gained us a valuable favour.” He took a long pause before he continued his tone more solemn. “This is not the message we want to send.”

  The boy shifted subtly, feet aligning, his posture losing its edge as his shoulders slumped. His father reached out, clawed fingers closing firmly around the boy’s shoulder. “Be better, not bitter. And teach that whelp to be better as well.” Then, as suddenly as he’d appeared, the vampire lord phased backward over fifty feet; I heard the click-clack of footsteps on the cobbles behind me moments after he disappeared.

  I pivoted turning about face to the approaching party, already mentally preparing to bow and give introduction to whoever would witness the duel.

  “Baron Darant, a pleasure to meet you again, though I wish the circumstances were kinder,” I said, sliding one claw over another as my gaze settled on a familiar face. Despite my words, my tone was flat and my eyes hollow, the usual smile I might’ve offered the man nowhere to be found.

  My eyes dropped from Lilith’s elder brother to the shorter Darvneev. Every pretence of civility left me; a cruel sneer crept over my features as I spat my words in a coarse tone. “State the terms of the duel for your witness that I may take of your flesh.”

  Darvneev sneered and hissed baring his fangs at me before reciting the terms, confirming the conditions we’d previously agreed upon.

  “I agree to the present terms,” his voice hissed; I echoed it. “I agree to the present terms.”

  The heir to House Darant clapped quietly, drawing our attention. “The terms have been agreed. I, Sylvanis Darant, hereby declare this duel fair and acceptable to both parties.”

  He gestured vaguely towards the field of flowers as he spoke clearly expecting us to fight there.

  “Take your distance from the road and stand fifteen paces apart. For fairness and ease of all involved, the method of combat will be an unarmed melee.”

  I gave a parting nod and stalked across the garden, noting at the edge of my mind that my father had departed, likely back to the party, playing damage control for my immaturity.

  “I came to stand within a small ring of violet flowers while Darvneev settled fifteen long paces away. Sylvanis gave the go-ahead, and I moved at once; I had no intention of granting Darvneev a fighting chance.

  The dense, potent ether within my aura surged to life, vibrating violently as it flooded my limbs. In an instant, the world froze around me. Then I exploded forward, flowers shredded beneath my heels as I glided across the ground in a blur, phasing toward Darvneev at subsonic speed.

  In a heartbeat, I was upon him. His pupils shrank to pinpricks as realization struck, but before he could react, my arm whipped back and my knuckles crashed across his face. Bone gave way under the blow; his cheek caved in as I decelerated, watching him slam into the ground in a sickening heap.

  A hateful, fang-filled smile split my face as I looked down at the would-be lord.

  Phasing half a step forward, I drove my boot into his ribs. The crunch was exquisite, he tumbled across the ground, wheezing through blood and broken bone.

  “Pathetic,” I hissed. “That you would challenge me to a duel.”

  My left eye twitched as the thought lingered, my words spilling out like venom. “I fought in the Bloodline Wars as a child. While you hid behind your forefathers, I was carving through our own kind.”

  My hands trembled with rage even as I continued on in my monologue.

  “And I learned something interesting about fighting another vampire…”

  I advanced with deliberate grace each step a mockery; closing in as Darvneev tried feebly to raise his arms in defence. It did him no good. My hand shot down, seizing his ankle. With a single twist, I spun and hurled him through the air; he struck the earth with a dull, broken thud and a muffled whimper.

  “It’s kind of like being an egg with a hammer,” I said with a crooked grin. “We’re strong, fast, damn near immortal, but we’ve got one disgustingly glaring flaw.

  I took half a step forward my arms spreading hands splayed in wide and welcoming gesture, save for my flexed and trembling claws.

  We’re fragile. It takes the same effort to turn a human into a smoothie as it does one of us. The only difference is… if you don’t do it right, we eventually get back up.”

  I stalked forward, seizing what was left of Darvneev’s body. His shoulder hung at an unnatural angle, his left arm twisted the wrong way, his fingers and legs little more than mangled flesh.

  With a careless shove, I flipped him onto his back, then dropped to my knees, slamming them into his shoulders and pinning him down.

  “You see, Darvneev…” I leaned close, wetting my lips before curling them into a predator’s smile. “You’re the egg. I’m the hammer. And now that I’ve cracked you…” My voice dropped to a low almost intimate murmur. “I get to reach inside for the yolk.”

  An insidious smirk spread across my face as what remained of his features contorted in horror.

  I raised a hand and drove my claws into his chest, sinking deep into soft flesh. Just as the fractured bones in his arm began to mend with a wet snap, I let out a dark chuckle and curled my fingers around his breastplate, digging furrows in his flesh as my fingers closed around his bones. His scream tore through the air raw, panicked, and perfect.

  But before I could pull. A concussive wave of compressed air slammed into me, shattering the moment. It hit like a collapsing wall, then burst like a dam, launching me through the air and into the dirt with bone-rattling force. Pain flared white-hot as my shoulder dislocated on impact.

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  I blinked hard, shaking the dizziness away as I shoved my good arm beneath me and pushed upright. What in Melotrix’s name was that?

  My vision narrowed on Darvneev as my unholy vitality stirred, fog clearing, shoulder grinding back into its socket, scrapes sealing, torn flesh knitting into flawless pale skin once more.

  I watched his hand hover over his mouth just as a droplet fell into it, a single bead of dark crimson. Its effects were instantaneous and obvious. I didn’t need aura sight to see the change; his essence flexed and shuddered, briefly materializing around him before fading again. Even invisible, the pressure was palpable. His regeneration surged, bones snapping back into place as torn flesh sealed itself.

  I cast a wary glance toward Sylvanis, expecting some remark about the blatant doping. But he held his tongue, and my opinion of my ahem... friend’s brother dropped considerably in that moment.

  “Well, I suppose I should take this for what it is, shouldn’t I, Darvneev?” I said with an innocent, toothy grin. “A second chance to humiliate and defile you bodily.”

  Despite my grin, my unease only deepened. Darvneev’s confident smirk was the least worrying thing about him now. I could feel something roiling inside him, something ugly, unstable.

  Before I could finish the thought, Darvneev exploded forward. His arm lashed out like a spear, claws flashing through the air. The only thing that saved me was the distance between us. Instinct took over. I phased, my body blurring as I slipped around his attack. Unholy energy hammered through my veins, pushing my body past its limit. I felt it at once, the dimming of my aura, the subtle drain of strength from my limbs.

  Then it happened. Darvneev phased too, right into my guard.

  In an instant, I went from sidestepping him to being smashed face-first into the dirt, the impact so brutal it made my chest cavity scream in protest. Pain flared, organs rupturing, blood flooding where it shouldn’t.

  I rolled to the side just as he followed up, hammering my arm against the earth to launch myself into the air. Darvneev blinked forward again, appearing right in front of me. His boot connected squarely with my stomach, just as I’d done to him moments before.

  But unlike him, I let the blow carry me. I twisted with the impact, using it to propel myself backward, cushioning the worst of it as I crashed and rolled across the cobbles. By the time I came to a stop, I was already pushing up, spitting a mouthful of dark blood as my body began purging the mess from within.

  He straightened, cracked his knuckles and set his stance. “Alright… that was cute. Fine. Let’s do this.”

  Kain’s voice trembled with power, his words rippling through the air as his core, the engine of his magic and mental abilities flared to life. Violet energy crackled through his spirit, and within the roiling storm of purple light, a pitch-black eye opened in a vertical slit. Deep within it shimmered the faint spark of an unseen cosmos.

  “Zoolfransa.”

  The word left his lips like a spark to powder. Energy surged outward from his core, violet lightning arcing through his spirit and into his mind. Focus sharpened his senses to a knife’s edge as the archaic, instinctive fear buried in his brain fell silent.

  Muscles rippled and flexed beneath his skin, cords of power drawing taut. His regeneration fought to keep pace, sealing the micro-fissures that tore open as his body strained to contain the surge.

  Then he moved.

  Unholy magic flooded his limbs, his body blurring into motion as he surrendered fully to the power coursing through him. Natural limiters fell away; his twitch muscles screamed as they were forced beyond their design, propelling him to monstrous speed.

  In an instant, he was upon Darvneev. His claws flashed forward in a flurry of slashes, but each one met resistance. Darvneev’s arms moved with startling precision, blocking and parrying in a desperate rhythm.

  Fury overtook Kain. He phased mid-strike, vanishing into his own momentum. Reappearing in front of Darvneev, both palms slammed into his opponent’s chest with a thunderous crack, sending him skidding backward.

  “M’arskaw.”

  Another word of power, another lock undone. Kain’s mind opened further to the storm within him. His muscles flexed harder, his body swelling with destructive potential as mana coursed like wildfire through his veins.

  Darvneev blinked forward again, trying to close the gap but Kain was already moving. He shifted into a counter-phase, timing it perfectly. His arm shot out in a brutal arc, fist connecting with Darvneev’s jaw just as the other boy’s attack fell short. The collision continuing onwards as Kain’s fist ripped the vampires jaw off shattering it across the floor.

  Kain pressed the advantage. He stepped in, raining blows with merciless precision each impact cracking bone, tearing flesh. His overclocked body howled under the strain, but he didn’t stop.

  And still, it wasn’t enough.

  Even as Kain broke him apart, Darvneev’s wounds mended almost as fast as they were made, the hateful creature’s body stitching itself back together under the boon of his misbegotten power.

  Finally, I snapped. “Enough!” I roared, my voice splitting the air. “You will not drag this disgrace out any longer!” The words came out half-snarl, half-command, raw and shaking with power.

  My aura flared around me. Ether bled from my form as I pushed myself to phase again but this time I didn’t use it for a single burst of speed. I held it.

  And then I struck.

  My fists became a storm. Every movement cracked the air, every blow a thunderclap. I rained strikes on Darvneev at sub-sonic speed, each one hitting before the echo of the last had even faded. My body twisted like a drawn spring, each rotation driving the next strike faster, harder. Bones shattered. Flesh tore. Skin split and peeled away under the force as I pummelled him with inhuman speed, a blur of claws and motion that would’ve made a Gatling gun look merciful.

  Then, finally, the power ebbed. The spell burned itself out, and the phase slipped away. The crash rippled through me; I staggered, breath tearing from my throat. Steam poured from my nose and mouth, needless for our kind, but the heat in my body demanded release.

  Darvneev was… no longer whole.

  The thing lying before me could hardly be called a vampire anymore. His body was a mangled ruin, ribs laid open like cracked shutters, one arm torn off entirely, and where his head should have been was nothing but a pale red paste soaking into the ground. Yet, through the jagged cage of his chest, I saw it, his black heart gave one faint, stubborn beat.

  I straightened, forcing composure even as pain crawled up through my shredded muscles. My regeneration was slow to respond; necrotic energy lagging behind in my exhaustion.

  I clenched my teeth, more out of habit than pride.

  And then it hit me our witness was gone.

  I exhaled, long and pained. There was really no reason to keep up appearances now. “Perfect,” I muttered bitterly, wincing as the knotting pain in my abdomen twisted tighter.

  After a long moment, I called out, “Sylvanis… where in the below are you? It’s over. You can stop hiding now.”

  I expected the usual his sharp tongue, some insult about my impatience, but silence answered me instead. Not until I saw him in the distance, stepping out from the keep, did I relax slightly. For a heartbeat, I assumed he’d fetched Darvneev’s family to witness their son’s defeat.

  But the figures with him weren’t his kin.

  It was Elfriede, still dressed in the same fitted leathers as before, expression unreadable.

  I started to speak, but Sylvanis’s voice cut through the air first.

  “Arrest him.” His tone was cold, flat, with a disgust that didn’t sound faked. “He’s out of control. He broke the terms of the duel and tried to kill young master Darvneev.”

  The words hit like a blade to the spine. The contempt in his voice wasn’t feigned.

  For the first time, I realized he actually meant it.

  I brought my hand down, claws slicing through the air as I roared at him.

  “How dare you! I followed the terms of our duel to the letter. If I wanted Darvneev dead, he’d already be a smear on the ground! And you” my voice cracked into a snarl, “you coward. You were our witness, the impartial judge, yet you turned a blind eye to his enhancements and even fled the field like some trembling whelp!”

  Sylvanis merely scoffed, looking down his nose at me as if I were filth beneath his boots.

  “And what evidence,” he said, voice dripping disdain, “do you have for these foul claims?”

  I opened my mouth to answer, but he cut across me again, a habit of his that had finally worn through my patience.

  “I have officiated duels for the royal houses of Valitia’s chosen,” he continued smoothly, in his high and annoying voice. “And you, meanwhile, agreed to a melee yet you’re dripping in mana.”

  “You disgraced the code. You turned a duel of submission into an act of barbarity, demanding torture as your price and savaging your opponent long after he could yield.” His tone hardened like ice. “There is no argument here. Arrest the boy. He can spin his lies in the courthouse, False-Silver.”

  My retort died in my throat as he turned his back on me, as if I were already judged and sentenced. Fury and disbelief burned through me in equal measure, but before I could act, Elfriede stepped forward.

  He moved slowly, his cloak whispering over the dirt. I could see the conflict in his eyes even through the hood’s shadow, old loyalty warring against duty.

  For a heartbeat, I thought of running. I could still fight, still make it to my father, maybe

  But no. That path would only dig this grave deeper.

  And I knew what it would take to reach him. I’d have to kill Elfriede.

  I lowered my head, every muscle trembling, and gave him a faint nod. He returned it with a sombre one of his own, before slipping a pair of heavy silver manacles around my wrists.

  They burned instantly, the pure metal hissing against my skin as the enchantments cinched tight. I felt my aura collapse inward, my power folding in on itself until only a dull ache remained where the storm used to be.

  I followed behind him as he led me toward the keep. His steps were measured, slower than usual. It wasn’t for himself; it was for me. He could tell my body was still straining from overdrive, same as that day years ago when he’d dragged me out of a trench, half-dead and half-grown.

  As we walked, my eyes drifted to the sway of his sword at his hip, and a memory clawed its way to the surface, a boy’s memory, blood-soaked and feverish. I was sitting against the lip of a half-dug trench, the stumps of my fingers throbbing as they slowly regrew. Elfriede had been there beside me, armor dented, eyes hollow.

  He’d said to me then, “Ours is not to reason why, Kain. It is to do or die.”

  I hadn’t understood it at the time. I’d pretended I did, nodded, saluted, played the soldier.

  But now, walking in chains beside the only man left who once called me comrade…

  Now, I understood.

  There was nothing I could do.

  Knowing why wouldn’t change a damn thing.

  All I could do was follow orders

  and pray I’d get the chance to do again before I was made to die.