V o l k i m i r
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K i ' i r a
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A n s u r
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K i ' i r a
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A n s u r
Finding their path blocked by a strange individual, most of the ransacking thieves stopped in their tracks. It was only one man, but his presence had an unmistakable quality of power to it. Vermin among men, the common criminals could recognize a predator of their kind when they saw it. Most dropped their pilfered goods and ran, retreating to their agreed-upon rendevous location. Others did likewise, but kept their goods; they were getting paid, interruptions or no.
Volkimir, who had been directing the final efforts in Locke's stead, also felt the overwhelming presence. Far more sensitive to magic than the mundane criminals with which he had been ensconced, Volkimir knew that this was not a common foolhardy idiot. This man radiated power; he was power. And now he stood in Volkimir's way. Normaly a circuitous retreat would be the vampire's preferred tactic for such occassions, but these were quite extraordinary circumstances.
"My name is not important," Volkimir called out to the stranger, "Who are you that so boldly blocks my path?" The paranoia that had set into him following his resurrection still gripped him, but he felt emboldened by his recent robbery. At once too brave to flee, too cautious to proclaim himself.
Ansur looked Volkimir dead in his inhuman eyes, scanning his face for any clue that might reveal the identity of this bold thief before him. Ansur knew that this was no ordinary thief, and that perhaps it was a man of much higher birth and power, stooping to common burglary as a means for a much more sinister purpose.
"My name, too, is unimportant. I must, however, insist on knowing whose path I block," he said, his voice maintaining his signature calm at all times. But Ansur's collectedness was cut short by the manic shouting of a woman that had only just made her presence known. She looked hurt, a little mischevious, and completely out of her mind.
"How long was I out since the attack?" she asked, completely independent of the conversation between the Mortifier and the Forefather. "What happened to all those cultist idiots with their annoying chant? Also I need a sword... anyone have one I can take and leave before whatever that petty squabble that's forming begins?" she asked.
Ansur turned his head abruptly to meet the gaze of the newcomer. He furrowed his brow and his eyes shone with a minor hint of confusion.
"Were you here when the cultists attacked the city?" he asked hesitantly, not knowing what to make of this chance meeting. He shifted his gaze quickly between Volkimir and Ki'ira.
"Yes, I was... I got into a fight with them and took a broad side of an axe to the forehead." she replied, still leaning on a pillar."Still to reply a question with a question is bad manners...
"Then you survived the blast?” Ansur interrupted wildly.
"Blast? What blast do you mean?... Wait... ouch... my head still hurts so much~" She said, trying to whistle at the end, but the pain and dizziness didn't really allow her to do it properly."Nevermind, can someone just explain why the city is dead?"
"That is a story for another day. But you... you are important. If you survived then you truly are touched by a God. You must look past whatever confusion that may cloud your vision and tell me: have you recently returned from death to walk the land once more?" he asked hastily, wanting an answer from her as quickly as possible so he could continue his stand-off with the Vampire Lord.
As Ansur looked away to talk to a madwoman that had appeared, Volkimir took this opportunity to leave. Not even bothing to disguise his presence with invisibility to illusions, he simply turned on his heel and walked in the opposite direction. However, he caught a stray comment, a question, that piqued his interest. Had she returned from the dead, as Volkimir had? The ancient vampire stopped and returned his attention to the two, himself curious as well. He had put little thought into the matter, more concered with fulfilling the demands of his curiosity and vanity. Did this stranger hold the answers he sought?
"You... despite the magnitute of which my head hurts, I still somehow recognize you from somewhere... Hmmm... doesn't matter and yes, I got rudely torn away from my good slumber a couple of days ago." she replied, nearly dropping to the ground as her legs lost stregth, but managed to steady herself. "Now I remember who you are! You look just like the depictions from the old stories~ So even the forefather himself has risen from the grave? What about you there, that tried to leave so rudely while we were talking? I seem a hell of a lot like the bed story my sisters used to tell me when I was little at the forest of Atma, a vampire?"
Ansur smiled. He didn't smile a paltry smirk, but rather a lavish grin that crept cross his whole face in delight. Then he nodded. Then he looked towards Volkimir, shot him a look of understanding, and looked back once more at Ki'ira.
"You are observant indeed. Truly you must be blessed by Vinsha, rest her soul. Now, you must listen to me. If you are truly returned, and you wish to see the world not suffer the same fate as Kolantis, you must find your way into the forest. Another of us is taking the Royal family to saftey. His name is Altim, and he will guide you further,"
Ansur looked to the ground, and around him just for a moment, but did not find what he was looking for. Instead, he drew his mighty blade taken from the God Guard upon his own return.
"Here," he said to Ki'ira. "Take this, use it wisely," as he offered her the hilt.
The woman raised an eyebrow at the gesture, before taking a shaky step back. She reached into her shirt, pulled her ears from it and put them on. Her senses changed and increased straight away as she made a few more steps back from the forefather." I will have to decline that request of yours." she stated, finally begining to move back faster."The only person that can command me is dead and you as much as your glory is great are not equal. I will wander. For if it's bound that I will fight whatever evil caused it, then it shall happen naturally on it's own!" she exclaimed, finally turnning and legging it! She was not going to be a tool for anyone, be it the forefather himself. " 'Be free and do whatever you want', were mother's words. I plan to stick to them!"
Ansur, surprised by the actions of the Fox Goddesses disciple, looked on at her sprinting into the distance with sadness. he shook his head very gently, and whispered something to himself about the end of the world. He resheathed his blade.
"The Forefather himself, is it?" Volkimir laughed bitterly, "I should count myself lucky to have returned from my grave with such esteemed company. Do not mistake me for one of your fanatical underlings. Your faith and country are not mine. I'm quite busy robbing the latter, actually, and to that task I will now return." Volkimir did not immediately turn away; this was more a taunt than it was a statement of fact. He was highly doubtful that this person was who the madwoman claimed the he was; the insane had a distinct habit of hallucinating figures of religious importance.
Ansur looked back to Volkimir, whom he could now direct his full attention. His smile faded, and instead turned to an expression of stone.
"I have no fanatical underlings, vampire lord, I have merely a line of kin who respect the land in which they call home," he stated with fearsome sterness as he began a slow march towards the Vampire. "The world itself is coming to an end, and all you can think is to pillage!"
His eyes became alight with fury and rage.
"And plunder!"
The skies began to stir and churn, the clouds that had previously been still started to roll under the power being exerted.
"You are a disgrace to this land, beast of the night,"
Within moments Ansur was within spitting distance of Volkimir, and the former's eyes had turned from orbs of cerulean blue to blazing points of furious starlight directed almost exclusively into Volkimir's own heart.
"Tell me, do you trust your own instincts enough to save you?" he said, once more in his unsettlingly calm tone, only inches from the Vampire's face.
Volkimir held his ground, his expression merely cold indifference. This man, who he now admitted was possibly the Forefather, was clearly trying his hardest to put the fear of the Gods in him. It would not work. Even if he were a legend, he was just a man. The world's most legendary man meant as much to him as its most legendary cow.
"I have saved this land of yours, did you know that? I was its bulwark against a darkness that you never knew in your time. Your kin," Volkimir spat, "Failed to protect themselves, and rewarded their savior with betrayal. Call me what you will, but I only take what I am owed. This nation has grown fat on the sacrifices of those it does not deem worthy to recognize. It is well that the sickly herd should be thinned. However..."
Volkimir did not take kindly to threats, unspoken or otherwise. He cracked his neck, and his eyes as shined with unspeakable power. Like hunter's moons in a starless sky, his true aura emerged. He was the hunter of men, the true apex predator of this world. He would not be spoken down to by his prey.
"Call me a beast once more, and I shall call you to heel." Volkimir spoke, his voice like the echo of a catacomb. His hand moved to rest on Elbrus, the demon cackling in anticipation of the coming bloodshed. This was a feint, though. Volkimir concentrated his focus on Ansur's neck. Thick and muscular, but vulnerable and ripe all the same.
"Kin of my kin, what a disgrace you have revealed yourself to be. Tell me if you think you know darkness simply because you are a man cursed," he retorted. He did not bother to rest his own hand upon his blade, for such tools were not always necessary.
"I have no champions. I merely led your ancestors to a place in which they would not be prey to a force much more than you ever could be. Do you think you are fearsome? Do you think your party tricks and thirst for blood scare me?" he asked. "My kin. How you truly have descended into savagery. You are little more than a man with a shadow and an attitude of an adolescent. You are no more than..."
Ansur did not even hesitate. He did not need to size up his opponent. He did not need to make himself seem fearsome. Even the greatest of apex predators could not overcome the primal forces of nature itself.
"A beast."
Volkimir sighed. He was not angered, as he was by Ansur's initial insult. Now he was only disappointed. To be forced to bring the mightiest champion of this land to his knees. He was almost glad that there were none around to see. Volkimir did not move; not a single muscle even twitched, but his mind worked furiously. He called upon dark powers from corners of the world lost to men, and empowered his arcane might with the overwhelming aura of death in this place.
Ansur's own flesh betrayed him. A force unseen and unfelt choked the Forefather, as the many vital passages in his neck tightened until shut. The larynx, arteries, veins, even capillaries blackened and closes, decapitating him without even cutting his flesh. This magic predated Ansur, it was older than his gods
The Forefather felt the magical attack, and in that moment felt his victory assured. This was the best the vampire could muster? A paltry show of dark magic that Ansur had bested countless times before? However, has he tried to draw breath, his eyes shot wide and his hand instinctively moved to his throat. As though a vice was crushing his windpipe, he could not force air through his throat. His face reddened, but he did not panic. As though ripping away invisible bonds, the Forefather dispelled the sangromantic attack, breathing sharply as his breath was returned to him. With newfound fury at the ferocity and lethality of the Vampire Lord, he stepped forward himself, and in a single motion that was faster than lightning, faster even than the eyes of a Vampire Lord, he drew his blade from its sheath and plunged it through Volkimir's gut.
Or so the Forefather thought. Skewered at the end of his sword was not the vampire that had stood there a moment before, but a fly-ridden corpse like any of the others that were scattered about. When had he moved? Ansur had not so much as felt the breeze from his motion. The vampire was poised behind him, muscles coiled and prepared to strike like a serpent at the apparently unprepared Ansur.
Worried not, Ansur turned gracefully behind him, weary of the legendary speed of Vampires. it was not his first fight with one such as this, and he assured himself it would not be the last. He had pulled the mundane blade from the decoy corpse, and dropped it to his side, discarding the weapon entirely. In a single, fluid motion he scooped up an old bow that once belonged to one of the eviscerated corpses in the courtyard while sliding himself backwards.
There was a single arrow knocked, as though the dead man had been killed just before he had a chance to loose his shot. Ansur pulled back on the bowstring, and his eyes flared with the intensity of the sun. But he did not point the weapon at Volkimir who was coiled and ready to strike just inches behind him, rather he loosed the arrow into the sky.
Volkimir, who had recoiled from the sudden withdrawal, poised his stanced to defend against the arrow. He was not sure why Ansur would turn to a bow in such a close battle, but he was wary. However, as the Forefather shot into the sky rather than at Volkimir, the vampire advanced on him faster than the snap of a bowstring. Volkimir did not move to kill, however. His role as a hunter, he felt, had already been resolved. With his foe left so open, he had now become a butcher. Four quick cuts, to each underarm and to each knee, and Ansur fell to the his knees, his tendons cut like a wild animal.
The arrow, ignored by Volkimir, travelled fast and true, faster than any arrow could normally travel. As it sped, the projectile began to glow. Faintly at first, but it grew in intensity every moment it spiralled into the clouds. In seconds it was brighter than a bonfire, and only seconds later it was brighter still, matching a thousand lighthouses blazing strong on a misty shoreline.
Volkimir placed his blade at Ansur's throat, pressing just hard enough to break the skin and draw a thin line of blood. He was well practiced at this, having flayed countless men in his time. "Heel." Spoke the vampire, assured in his victory. The Forefather said nothing, looking down at his crippled limbs. His hair hung in his face, and for this reason Volkimir could not see the smile creep across it.
As the arrow reached its maximum height, it exploded with the intensity of both the Suns that circled the world, and night, in no more than a second, gave way to the light of day. The arrow lingered in the sky, floating through the sheer willpower of its shooter alone, acting as a temporary star and mystical daylight that pulled Ansus from the darkness, and thrust it into daylight.
The sudden burst of sunlight startled and alarmed Volkimir, who released an unearthly screech in his surprise. The sun stirred a dark, beastial instinct within his mind, one that cared only for survival. As his skin began to smoke and sear, he turned tail on Ansur, seeking to flee to whatever cover was closest. However, the Forefather had other thoughts. He rose to his feet with startling speed; his wounds likely feigned. He retrieved his nearby sword and gave chase to the panicked vampire. Blinded by pain and light, Volkimir took no notice of his persuer, only realizing the man was still a threat when he felt his blade pierce his back.
Ansur forced the sword through Volkimir's flesh, putting it through his lower back and off to the side. He did not wish to kill the vampire. Or rather, he didn't wish to kill him too quickly. He followed the blow through, forcing the blade out through Volkimir's gut, and used his stregnth and momentum to force the vampire to the ground. With a final push, he embedded the blade into the marble of the pathway, pinning Volkimir to the earth like a hunted animal.
Volkimir seized and writhed in agony, clawing desperately at the sword in his back. His eyes rolled back in his head, and his skin cracked and turned ashen in the oppressive light. If he wanted, Ansur could have left the vampire there to meet his end in daylight. But that was not his judgement to pass. The Gods had plans for this man, and had returned him from the grave so that they would come to pass. He would spare him, but only if he could be brought to see reason. Ansur stood over Volkimir, his mighty frame casting enough shadow over the man to shield him the most of the daylight. Volkimir's convulsion's ceased, but he continued to breathe frantically, craning his head to stare up at the Forefather hatefully.
"Is this what you came back for?" Ansur spoke, his voice commanding, but at once carrying a sorrowful tone. "To spread more death and destruction? To settle petty greivances, and lay low any who stand before you? I would think not. You are meant for more than that, vampire; you have proven this much to me." Ansur knelt, to speak more closely to the trapped Volkimir, but kept the merciful shadow cast over his face. "You saved this land once, you said so yourself. The world is in greater peril than mortal men can imagine. So what if the common masses think ill of you, or curse your existence? Do you live for their approval? You have been gifted with redemption by the gods themselves."
Volkimir interrupted, his voice pained and filled with black rage, "You call it... redemption!" He spat blood. "I call it... reparation!"
Ansur sighed, "Call it what you will, but it is an opportunity unlike any other. You are a cursed man indeed, but only you know what lies beyond the Whispering Beyond the Wall. Prove that you can overcome the darkness in your soul. Not to me, to yourself."
Volkimir laid silently, still twitching in pain and anger. Ansur gripped his blade once more, and wrenched it from the vampire's flesh, releasing him. Volkimir grunted in pain, but stayed still, quietly laying in the shadow of Ansur. Removing the cloak from his shoulders, Ansur cast it over the vampire to shield him as he stepped away.
"Transcend the shadows. It is in you to do so, even now."
The sunlight began to fade, changing from artifical day, and sinking into a natural dawn. The arrow dropped harmlessly from the sky as Ansur turned his back upon the Vampire Lord, a most fearsome man indeed. He looked back only once, and saw that Volkimir had already disappeared. Ansur breathed, half in relief and half in resignment, but thought on the matter no more. He had places to be, and the King to share counsel with; but he knew deep within him that Volkimir retained within him the heart of a man. Scorned, yet still beating with willpower and hope.
He only hoped it would be enough. Even the dawns were growing dark. And as the world became colder by the day, a legendary Vampire Lord of times past would surely be a boon in the final fight against whatever it was that was laying waste to the world.