Krowe

Krowe

Chapter warning(s): Character Death, Death, Mentions of Blood/Blood Loss, Gore, Slight sexual implications, Language

 

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Chapter 9: Nexis

Rajira knelt down on one knee and touched the ground where Varka had recently been. She could smell him on the tree, but most of all she could smell the blood. There was some blood in the snow, but not much. Not enough to indicate a critical wound.

She didn’t know where he was or what his condition was, but she knew he was still alive.

“Vercyle…you don’t look so good,” stated Orcha with concern in her voice and face.

The male White Warden had his head turned downcast with his sweat-soaked hair hiding his face as he heavily leaned on her. He did not reply. He just panted and sweated as if he were exerted from all the running. Something was obviously very wrong with him.

“Rajira, I think he needs to rest,” Orcha called out to the Black Warden Captain that was about twenty or so feet away from their location.

The crimson-eyed woman stood up to her full height of 6’1” and directed her gaze onto the pair. Tufts of her short black hair blew in the wind as she narrowed her intense eyes. She spoke in a low, somber tone of voice, “It is imperative that we do not stop. We will simply just have to leave him behind and push on, then. Understand?”

Orcha’s body stiffened from the shock momentarily. In the next instant, she felt the tremors of anger shoot through the nerves of her body. She turned her accusing gaze on the other woman and spat, “I am not leaving him behind. You can go on ahead, but I’m not deserting Vercyle.”

Rajira clasped her hands behind her back as she strolled almost leisurely over to the pair. She stayed about five feet away as if she sensed something was amiss. The moment she stopped, she tilted her head back along with her shoulders while she kept her posture rigid. She never removed her eyes from the pair as she spoke in a level, commanding tone, “I do not believe you comprehend the position that you are in. Here, let me clarify it for you: I am in charge. You do what I say, when I say. Understand now?”

“You are not my captain. I only do what Lord Varka bids me to do,” Orcha replied incredulously with hints of openly displayed disdain. She tightened her grip on Vercyle as if she were silently reinforcing her loyalty to him in front of the other female.

“It does not matter. Lord Varka does whatever His Holiness Nexis instructs just as I do whatever His Holiness Najja bids. They both want the same thing. Do you know what that is?”

“To find His Holiness’ human ward,” automatically responded the White Warden woman in a tone of voice that made her sound like a robot.

“Essentially, yes, that is part of it. Our job is to find and secure this Annej, but it is also our duty to keep Lord Varka from harm. So far we have failed in that respect. Failure, my good woman, is not an option,” the dark-haired woman enlightened as if she had the idea in her head that Orcha needed to be reminded.

“I agree with that, but I’m not leaving Vercyle behind,” Orcha stubbornly refuted.

Before Rajira could reply, a loud hissing noise suddenly resounded throughout the white clearing. At first it sounded like a reptile was choking on something, but as the pitch got higher, it got clearer. It was no reptile. The noise was coming from the male White Warden.

“Get away from him!” Rajira warned as she defensively leapt back another five feet. Her hands were no longer behind her back and were now bent at her sides in a defensive stance.

“What?” Orcha started and slowly turned her head until she looked at what had the Black Warden’s undivided attention.

It was Vercyle.

Blue veins were visible sprouting throughout his sickly, pale face along with a pair of cloudy, lifeless eyes that stared right back at her. Even though they were dead eyes, something about them just seemed…hungry.

There was no time to move, let alone blink. Orcha could do nothing but scream and thrash her limbs violently as Vercyle tore into her face. He tore away the armor that covered her eyes, neck, and upper body. Claws ripped through skin, muscle and bone as her blood splattered everywhere in violent, random ribbons upon the stark snow. His teeth ripped and tore away at her face while his long, blackened tongue feverishly tasted the wounded, tattered flesh. Her terrified, gruesome shriek and flailing arms did nothing to deter him in any way.

Not satisfied with his victim’s face, Vercyle quickly found a place that offered something much tastier and more satisfying. He clamped his lengthened teeth around her jugular vein and then immediately tore a large piece of her flesh away. Copious spurts of blood hit him in the face and he sighed as if in bliss. The deranged vampire leaned his face in closer and opened his mouth to receive the plentiful hot life fluid.

It was sickening.

Rajira sneered at the display before her and growled deep in her chest. Her crimson eyes were narrowed as she gnashed her teeth in frustration and anger.

It was now or never. She had to make haste or it would be too late.

The Black Warden’s right hand expanded until it resembled more of some kind of metallic black blade than a hand. Whatever that thing was, it was obvious that she intended to use it as some kind of weapon.

Before Vercyle could finish off his prey completely, Rajira had leaped high in the air like a cat. She then gracefully, but powerfully bounded down to him as she swung her blade. It sliced off his head in a fraction of a second and then in another flash, it beheaded Orcha as well.

Two bodies crumpled over onto the pale ground. Sprays of blood had been splashed everywhere in a violent, ugly pattern.

Rajira’s sword-like weapon morphed back into her gloved hand. She clenched her fist and unclenched it a few times as if to get feeling back into it.

The Black Warden glanced over her shoulder at the other two Black Wardens that had been standing there all along watching. She then intoned bluntly, “Burn the bodies.”

Then Rajira walked away as if nothing significant had taken place in that humble little clearing.

 

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“Where are we headed to?” Asked Varka in a neutral tone of voice as he tested the strange rope that had his wrists bound together. He was no longer grumpy, but he still wasn’t exactly happy, either.

“Now that would be telling,” teased Krowe.

Annej turned his head to glance at them and inquire, “No, I’m curious, too. Where are we going?”

“Oh, somewhere very lovely,” the doctor answered while he squeezed the Original’s thigh.

Varka responded by elbowing Krowe hard in the face. He then crossed his arms and looked quite pleased with himself.

“That wasn’t very nice, He-Bitch,” pointed out Krowe in a voice that almost sounded hurt.

“I’m not nice. I told you not to touch me, Reborn,” Varka hissed. He didn’t care for the little pet name the other man had for him, but he knew he couldn’t do anything about it so he chose to ignore it. It was obvious Krowe enjoyed getting a rise out of him so that it was best he did everything within his power not to give the imbecile what he wanted.

“He did warn you, Krowe,” the human agreed with a little half grin. He patted the horse on the flank as if to encourage it.

”Did he, now? I should throw him overboard,” Krowe jested.

“Why am I even riding with you? I would rather ride with Annej,” protested Varka who wasn’t the least bit amused by the Reborn man’s joke.

“Because precious…you came here with the intention of taking Annej away and probably causing some sort of bodily harm to my person. I think you can understand why I would rather have you sitting in front of me where I can see you at all times. It would be stupid of me to let you ride away with my new…well, friend over there,” Krowe explained while he tried his best not to be hit in the face by Varka’s wild mane.

“What do you want? What are you planning on doing with Annej?” Varka questioned in all seriousness. It had been a question burning in his mind for a long time now. He would have asked sooner, but every time someone fed from him or he fed from someone, he tended to fall into a state of unconsciousness. Or at least in the very least a meditative state that deprived him of any and all aggression. It was strange how every time he tried to work up his will to attack it just seemed to fall through as soon as Krowe touched him.

Instead of answering Varka’s question, Krowe redirected it by saying, “I think you should be asking yourself what your master wants with Annej. Why does he want him back so badly? And why does he keep Annej in a hospital like Roz’s? Annej is very healthy and I think it’s obvious to the both of us that he doesn’t need to be in a place that makes food from scratch.”

Curious about what was being said, Annej pulled back lightly on the Nargel’s horn, which caused the horse to stop moving. Once the other Nargel had caught up to them, the human released the horn. Obviously the horse that had to carry two full-grown men moved slower than the one that only had to carry one man.

Varka stared down at the fiery mane of the Nargel as he thought. All he could come up with was, “I do not know.”

“You don’t know or you don’t want to tell us?” Krowe asked in a solemn tone of voice that indicated that he was done playing games.

Varka sighed. “I do not know my lord’s intentions. He tells me what to do and I do it. I do not ask questions and he does not give answers.”

“Bah, he sounds like a real asshole,” commented the dark-haired man with a roll of his silver eyes.

Annej acquiesced with a mumbled, “He is.”

The silver-haired Original didn’t agree with that statement so he hissed, “You do not know him so silence your mouth, fool.”

“How do you know? Maybe your little lord and I were best buddies once upon a time ago. What’s the old chum’s name, anyway?” Krowe asked in his usual humorous way. He didn’t fail to notice the look of trepidation that had crossed the human’s worried face.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Reborn, but I suppose you should know who is going to kill you…”

Krowe rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, “Yeah, yeah, yeah…he’s going to come find me, torture me, kill me, and paint my toenails hot pink. Just tell me his damn name already.”

“Hot pink isn’t your color, Krowe,” Annej commented with a grin in spite of his obvious anxiety.

“Oh? You got a personal claim on that color, eh, Annej?” Krowe laughed and seemed to forget what they had initially been talking about in the first place.

Varka ignored their seemingly playful banter and calmly stated, “He is Nexis, the High Priest of the Order of Lumenos.”

Krowe immediately stopped laughing and stared at Varka. He couldn’t see his face, but he could tell that the man was being stone cold serious.

“I’m familiar with that name,” the doctor admitted in a manner than could be called begrudging. Whether he knew the name on a personal or impersonal level, it was hard to tell. He didn’t offer anything more to reveal how he had come to learn the name of the Original’s master.

“Most are,” Varka responded quietly.

Annej said nothing.

For the next few hours, no one uttered a single word. All that could be heard was the quick, methodic sound of hoofs beating upon ground and the moderate blowing of wind.

It started to snow again.

 

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The High Priest of the order of Tenebraeus stood on a balcony with his hands curled over the railing. His dark hair blew around his shoulders as he watched the sun rising from behind the majestic mountains. Rays of light seeped through dark clouds and slowly forced away most of the darkness that covered the land.

Watching sunrises always made him feel nostalgic for some reason. He didn’t know what it was about the sun coming up, but it always made him feel like the day had won. Perhaps it felt more dramatic since it expelled the darkness of the night. Sunsets always marked the end of a day, and the beginning of a new night.

Would the sun come up again? Would darkness reign on? Those were the questions that the children of light and of darkness would ask themselves as if they feared knowing the true answer. Logically everyone knew that the sun would rise back up again to start off another day. Some found hope in a new day while others dreaded it.

Humans were social creatures that were most active during the day. They felt safer and more secure when they could see what was happening around them verses being trapped in a dark world without light to guide them. Even with some light, it was still terrifying and unknown.

Vampires were solitary, nocturnal creatures that were most active during the night. Each class felt most natural when it came to nightfall. They tended to feel more sluggish and drowsy during the day, but they could still function. Generics were the only class that found it difficult to operate during the day which is probably why they acted sporadic and crazed whenever light touched them. Light did not kill Generics, but it did cause them to react in an unstable, unpredictable way. That was why most of them were locked up or tied up whenever dawn approached.

“My lord?”

Najja said nothing. He beckoned the other over with a gesture of his hand while he kept his crimson gaze on the horizon.

The other figure walked over to the High Priest and then knelt down on one knee before him like a loyal knight would.

It was Rajira.

“Well?”

“Varka ran off in pursuit of the human and the doctor. From the looks of the evidence, there was a fight and some blood loss. There are no indications of death or anything serious as of yet. But,” the short-haired woman started, but paused as if in hesitation.

“But what?” Najja tapped his fingers against the railing as he patiently waited for her answer.

“The tracks and brimstone smell give us reason to believe that they are in possession of the Nargel,” Rajira hesitantly finished as if she didn’t quite know whether to believe that to be true or not.

“The Nargel, eh? That would explain why they are able to elude even you, my dear.”

Rajira frowned at the insult yet ignored it as she continued to verbally oppose him. “These mythical horses haven’t been seen in a few thousand years, Your Holiness. I find it hard to believe they would just show up out of nowhere.”

“Always the skeptic and never the visionary, Rajira. That is why I like you,” the dark-haired man mumbled quietly as he turned around to face her. He laid his hand on her head as if he were about to bless her.

“My lord?” Rajira asked in uncertainty. She didn’t dare look up at him. It was obvious to her that she was being tested in some way.

“Nargels are a rare breed, Rajira. They come and go as they please. I find…” Najja trailed off and then removed his hand from the top of her head. He didn’t move or take his eyes off of her. The High Priest then continued, “…that the Nargel are beckoned by need and not want. They are always close to death of any kind. You could stand in the middle of a sea of massacred bodies and still not see any of these Hell Horses.”

“So you are saying that if you don’t need their assistance they won’t show up?”

“Something like that, yes. You won’t be able to trail them unassisted.”

“If I cannot catch up to them on my own nor with the rest of my men, then what do you suggest that I do exactly?” Rajira asked with a tilt of her head. She had a feeling that he had an idea of his own.

Najja turned away from her and clasped the railing once more as the sun touched his pale face. He closed his eyes and asked quietly, “What of the other White Wardens?”

“They are dead, Your Holiness. One of them got bitten by a hostile Generic and was infected. He attacked the female hours after the exposure. I killed them both and had their bodies burned,” Rajira replied casually as if she were talking about a normal weather day.”

“Very good,” Najja murmured as he clenched the railing with his tapered fingers.

“What are your orders, My Lord?” Inquired Rajira who was still on bended knee.

“I want you to go back to the woods and retrace your steps. It is imperative that you find Annej and Varka before my brother does. Take the Kerberos with you. Let them off their leashes as soon as they pick up the scents. Then follow them as quickly as you can.”

“Yes, Your Holiness. Is that all?” Rajira remained on bended knee with a bowed head until she saw him wave his hand in dismissal. She immediately stood up and bowed respectfully to him before she turned on her booted heel and left.

As soon as Rajira was gone, Najja opened his eyes and greeted the bright sun with a smile.

 

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Nexis stood in a darkened room while loosely holding a picture in his left hand.

For a man who served as a Priest of Lumenos, he didn’t seem to like the light very much. He also didn’t like to watch sun rises. He preferred sunsets. Why? There was no real reason. Maybe he just liked the end of the day. Or maybe he just wasn’t fond of something that stung his eyes. Or maybe, just maybe…it reminded him of something he preferred not to think about.

Something haunted him.

He was alone as he stared down at the picture that he held in his hand. He didn’t look at it often, but when he did, he would stare at it for several minutes at a time.

The room was filled with endless silence and unwavering darkness.

“I regret all that I have done onto you. I wish I could bring back that part of you that has been lost. I want things to be as they once were, but I know that won’t happen. It’s too late now. What’s been done is done. What will be, will be. I hope that in the end you will understand that I did what I had to do. I hope that when the time comes that you will understand why. And I hope that all of these sacrifices will not have been in vain, son,” Nexis whispered these words as he stared down at the picture that was now clutched in both of his hands.

After those words were uttered, he then let the picture drop and then strode out of the dark room as it fluttered to the ground. It fell face up. Anyone that walked into the room could see it quite easily.

The picture was that of a forlorn looking young boy with long silver hair and bright crimson eyes that mirrored much more than just mere sorrow.

 

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