Dandelion [One-Shot]
Long time no post, LiveJournal. And welcome to the first day of spring! This story is a direct result of listening to Dandelion by D and Blood by Sonata Arctica one after another. I'm pretty sure a little Kurobara no Kishi got into there as well. I'm not pleased with it, but I thought I'd post instead of leaving it to disappear into the void of my laptop.
The story is set in the winter between In the Name of Justice and Dark Wings in my Vampire Saga timeline. Zephyr is a canon character, but the rest are my own. Maybe I should include the royal guard in a later story.
This cheesefest is dedicated to write_my_dreams. Happy Birthday, bruh. ☺
Dandelion
“Laughter. That's what this country needs.”
The woman looked up from the floor. “What?”
“Just think about it, Ilse.” Zephyr swung his sword into a root at his feet. “Marthiel is so serious nowadays. Especially up here in the north. I haven't seen one person smile since leaving home.”
The woman, Ilse, snorted and flicked a piece of grass from under her nail. “It's hard to smile when your country's spiralling into poverty.” She watched the young man swing his sword again, this time into a small bush. “You handle that well. And to think just weeks ago you were still a bard in that dingy tavern.
“Thanks.” Zephyr grinned. “You don't sing about heroes without picking up a few tips.” Slowly, he lowered his blade and turned into the forest. “How long does it take to sound a signal, anyway?”
“They'll signal when they're ready. And even after that, we have to wait for King Justice,” Ilse mumbled. “Now sit down.”
Frowning, Zephyr sheathed his sword and took a seat beside Ilse. Waiting. Ever since his grandfather Rafaga had summoned him a month ago, he'd been doing nothing but waiting. Surely joining the royal guard would be more fun than this? Days of talking, training for battles he would never fight. Even the group they were tracking now was nothing more than a band of simple brigands.
His eyes flicked around the forest, taking in the trees, the dark undergrowth, the faint mist that hung above the ground. He thought about the humans in his town, how even the best had eyesight so poor an environment like this would appear flat and lifeless. Zephyr couldn't imagine not being able to see the leaf veins, the sharpness of the moonlight against everything it hit, the dust motes suspended in the air. With such a limited view of the world, it was no wonder so many humans went mad.
He was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of a horn. Low, distant, but unmistakeable. He turned to Ilse. She was already on her feet.
“Is that the signal?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Zephyr's heart leapt to his throat. He stood, then set off into a sprint towards the source of the sound. Ilse followed close behind. Her long hair, black as her armour, caught the moonlight like a blade.
They arrived in a small clearing where two other vampires waited. Bem, the bearded leader of the guard, nodded at their arrival.
Zephyr looked around. The run had warmed him up and left him restless. He pulled his sleeves back into place. For this operation, he'd swapped his usual colourful clothing for a light black tunic and brown boots. His pale red hair, usually loose over his shoulders, was tied back under his hood. He may not have looked as elegant as the others in their sleek light armour, but he moved and felt like a shadow nonetheless.
The final pair emerged from the trees, completing the group. The first was Petri. The figure on his right, Joanna, joined Ilse as the guard's only females. She winked at Zephyr as she approached. Zephyr lowered his head.
“Right,” said Bem. “Now that we're all here, I don't want to waste time. Dawn is in less than an hour, and every second is precious.”
Zephyr glanced to the east, where the faintest tinge of pink was beginning to glow on the horizon.
“The brigands have made rest in a nearby cave. There are eight in total.” continued Bem's partner, Alder. “The king will be here soon. Only on his command shall we attack. In the meantime, we need someone to go to the cave and watch over the brigands, just to track any movement.”
Zephyr shot a sideways glance at Ilse. She'd already caught his glance. He raised a hand.
“Alder,” he said. “We'll do it.”
For a moment, all eyes were on him. Bem frowned, considering the proposal. Then he shook his head. “No. Ilse has the best hearing out of all of us. We'll need her here.” He motioned with his hand. “Joanna, go with Zephyr.”
Smiling, Joanna walked over. Zephyr felt his heart fall.
“Report back any suspicious activity,” Bem said. “But whatever happens, do not let the vampires see you. We attack as one, and on the king's command.”
Zephyr nodded. “Of course.”
They left swiftly after that, bounding side-by-side through the trees. Zephyr made sure to keep his distance as he moved. It didn't work. Before he knew it, Joanna was by his side.
“Fancy Bem lumping me with you,” she said.
Zephyr pretended to ignore her. His eyes darted around, seeking out anything that may serve as a distraction. Up ahead, the trees parted and thinned out. He came to a stop and surveyed his surroundings.
The forest floor continued for a short distance before rising to form a verge, then dropping into a clearing. On the far side stood a second verge, though this was much higher, with a cracked rock face. A cave, about six feet high, split the wall in two.
Zephyr crouched on the ground and peered over the verge. This was the place Bem was talking about - no doubt about it. Though it was too dark to see, he could sense movement from inside the cave.
“Do you smell it?” muttered Joanna, shuffling up beside him.
“Smell what?” Zephyr glanced at her, then paused as a familiar scent tickled him. He turned his eyes back to the cave.
“Blood,” said Joanna. “It's not strong enough to be human. They've probably killed a deer.”
Zephyr wrinkled his nose. “Disgusting.”
“More disgusting than murdering an entire group of travellers?” Joanna fixed him with an icy stare. “These vampires are a menace. They kill for fun. They need to be destroyed.”
There was a few minutes of silence as Zephyr watched the cave mouth. The ground was damp - he could feel it through his clothes. He shifted silently. When he looked back at Joanna, he saw she was smiling.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I'm just wondering whether you're still angry about training.”
For the second time that day, Zephyr ignored her, though this time he felt his cheeks redden. He tried not to think about his training days, when he'd failed miserably at Joanna's hands nine out of ten times they'd sparred. It wasn't his fault. She'd been fighting for years. He, on the other hand, had been pulled from his normal life and encouraged into the guard by Rafaga. It was only natural that he would fall far short of her.
“You're angry with me, aren't you? It's fine.” She paused. “Don't you like older women, Zephyr?”
I don't like you, Zephyr thought. He opened his mouth to speak, but something stopped him short. Suddenly still, Joanna raised a finger to her lips, then pointed to the clearing. Zephyr followed her to the cave mouth, where a figure stood. His skin was pale and his hair shone dark red in the moonlight.
Zephyr's heart leapt to his throat. He watched the vampire stretch his arms, dark eyes surveying the clearing. Thankfully, he hadn't spotted them yet, though Zephyr feared it would only be a matter of time. Perhaps he would pick up their heart beats, or catch their scents. He lowered his head to the ground.
A light shuffling sound brought Zephyr's attention back to Joanna. She had risen into a crouch and was creeping slowly away. His eyes widened. What was she thinking? The king hadn't arrived yet, and they hadn't heard any kind of signal from the others. He motioned furiously at her to stop, but she didn't take notice.
Zephyr's eyes flicked back to the red-headed vampire. He seemed to sense something in the woods, and was now scanning the verge. Zephyr held his breath.
Something small, like a stone, landed on the left side of the clearing. The vampire's head snapped around. Half a moment later, Joanna burst from the trees, sprang towards him and pinned him face-first to the floor. There was a brief flurry of claws and snarls. Then Joanna lowered her head and tore at the vampire's neck. When she looked up, the lower half of her face was stained red. The vampire fell still below her.
“Zephyr,” she hissed. “Come and help me.”
Zephyr glanced at the cave, then back at Joanna. Finally, he vaulted over the edge and landed in the clearing.
Beckoning him over, Joanna pointed to the vampire's body. “He's not dead, but he's alone. The others aren't in the cave.”
“What are you talking about?” muttered Zephyr, but paused anyway. His face paled. Apart from Joanna and his own heartbeat, he couldn't sense any movement from his surroundings. It was just as Joanna had said. The cave was empty.
A crackling sound, like footsteps on leaves, split the air. Zephyr spun to see a figure emerging from the trees. He smiled as his face became visible. He opened his mouth. “Oops.”
Zephyr's hand flew to his sword, but it was too late. More vampires were coming forth now, each blocking a potential exit. They were surrounded.
Slowly, Joanna straightened. Her eyes flicked around the clearing, counting the figures. Zephyr had already done it. There were seven.
The first vampire moved forward. He had to be the leader, Zephyr thought. Everything about him, from his stance to his dark eyes, boasted confidence. He looked down at the body on the floor, then back at the pair. “Quite the violent ones, aren't you?”
Zephyr felt his eyes narrow. “As if you can talk.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
The vampire laughed softly in response. He nodded to the others. “Catch them, but don't kill them. I want to know where the others are.”
At once, the vampires advanced. Zephyr's shoulders seized. This had been a planned ambush. Somehow, they had known about the operation and the rest of the guard too. Gritting his teeth, he reached for his sword and whipped it from its sheath.
A pair of vampires leapt at him. Zephyr took a step back and raised his sword. The others, he noticed, were armed only with daggers, though that didn't stop them from attacking with full force. A blade swiped at him, narrowly missing his cheek. He ducked to avoid a second blow.
The sound of shouting rose up from behind. Joanna was flooded with attackers. Zephyr watched in his peripheral vision as two came at her from the sides. He spun around to help her. Something hard landed in his back and sent him stumbling forwards.
“Zephyr,” Joanna hissed. “Go. Get the others.”
The man barely had time to nod. Spinning again, he lifted his sword and slashed blindly at the figure behind. The blade caught the figure's shoulder. He reeled back in pain.
Gasping, Zephyr broke away and ran. He knew his way back to the clearing. If he could get there before the enemies, he'd give the rest of the guard enough time to prepare an attack. Unless they'd caught sound of Joanna's shouting, in which case they were no doubt on their way to rescue them right now.
When he reached the clearing, Zephyr jolted to a stop and looked around. It was empty. The others must have left. As he prepared to return to the cave, something moved in the trees behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. A figure strolled forward.
It was the vampire from before, the one Zephyr had assumed was the leader. A sword was in his hands. Zephyr turned to face him.
“Why are you so intent on killing my men?” the vampire said slowly.
Zephyr didn't answer him. He knew he was being taunted. Slowly, he raised his sword and held it poised. The vampire only smiled.
“Set it down, boy. It doesn't suit you.”
Zephyr's heart beat fast. He shook his head. “Not until you're on your knees.”
His opponent's eyes narrowed. “Fine.”
The vampire struck first. Gritting his teeth, he raced forward and swung his sword. Zephyr just managed to deflect the blow. Another swing. Zephyr slipped out of the way, then brought his knee up into the vampire's side, knocking him back. Zephyr knew his opening had arrived. He swiped his sword up towards the vampire's ribs.
But he wasn't fast enough. The vampire's gloved hand shot out and caught the blade mid-swing. He jerked his arm, wrenching the sword from Zephyr's hands.
Zephyr stared up at him in shock. He'd never been disarmed before - not even in training. As his alarm grew into panic, he watched the vampire throw his sword to the side. It landed somewhere between the trees.
“Get on your knees.” The vampire extended his blade towards him. The tip hovered before his throat.
Zephyr didn’t move. He’d forgotten how to. His eyes flicked towards the far trees, but his sword was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, he bent one knee. The vampire’s eyes followed him like a hawk’s.
A sudden rustling moved the bushes behind him. Moments later, a figure burst from the darkness. Zephyr ducked as it sped towards the vampire, growling animalistically.
Ilse’s face flashed before him. She swung her sword into the vampire’s, knocking it away. “Zephyr,” she spat. “You have to keep moving. Go!”
No sooner had she finished speaking, a second figure tore from the trees. It was one of the enemy vampires, a female. Zephyr forced himself to break position and leapt towards her. With no weapon, he would have to rely on his own strength.
His arms fastened around her neck and pulled her backwards. The vampire hissed. Her teeth dug into his lower arm and fastened on, making Zephyr cry out with pain.
He heard Ilse call his name, and then the gleam of metal. The side of Ilse’s sword came down upon the vampire’s head, sending shudders through Zephyr’s body. She fell limp in his arms.
Gasping, Zephyr dropped the female to the ground. A line of blood crept from her nose. He stepped back.
Ilse walked towards him, her expression livid. “So, was it you or Joanna? Who was the idiot?”
It took Zephyr a moment to realise she was talking about the attack at the cave clearing. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ilse cut him off.
“Forget it. The others need our help.” She motioned to the female vampire’s body. “She’ll be out for a while more. As for their leader-”
Her sentence ended abruptly. For a moment, Zephyr wondered what had made her stop. Then his eyes fell upon the side of her neck. A deep gash split the skin and blood dribbled down, staining her collar red. Her lips quivered. Zephyr's eyes widened.
A hand wound in her hair and wrenched her head back. Her pale throat shimmered in the moonlight. The blade of a sword flashed, then swung into the side of her neck, twice, three times. At last, her body shuddered and fell to the ground.
Zephyr was frozen. Every part of him felt numb, his feet fastened to the ground in horror. The smell of Ilse's blood drifted towards him, warm and metallic. A few drops had splashed onto his clothes too. He felt like he was going to be sick.
Slowly, the vampire stepped over Ilse's body. Her head still hung in his hands. He flicked his wrist, tossing it aside. He marched towards Zephyr, raised his boot and buried it in his stomach. Zephyr was too petrified to resist. He fell squarely onto his back.
The tip of the vampire's sword hooked under his hood and eased it back. When he saw Zephyr's face, he laughed. “I never thought I'd see the day when the royal guard sent little boys to do their work.”
His words washed over Zephyr, meaningless. His eyes were fixed on Ilse's body. Over and over his mind replayed the moment of her death, and each time he felt himself slip closer to the dark lake of unconsciousness he knew would swallow him soon.
A sudden, blinding pain twisted across Zephyr's chest. He looked across to see the vampire's sword piercing his shoulder. A new type of agony filled him, one that bit and tore and seared. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back screams.
“Go on, boy,” said the vampire, leaning over him. “Cry for your friends.”
Zephyr clenched his teeth together. He could feel his eyes grow wet with tears. “J-just try. They'll kill you.”
“Oh, really?” Smiling, the vampire pulled back his sword, making Zephyr gasp. Then he took the handle in both hands and stabbed it down into his stomach.
Zephyr shrieked. The cold metal burned against his skin, passing straight through him to the ground below. He reached out and wrapped his hands around the sword, though he was too weak to pull it out, and his fingers slipped against the pooling blood.
He tilted back his head and tried to concentrate on the heaving of his chest, the glide of his breaths. In his mind, he cried out for Ilse to save him. Then he remembered. Of course - she was gone. Another chilling thought crossed his mind.
I am going to die here, just like Ilse.
Yes, he thought. That was right. Only Ilse's death had been quick. The vampire was probably going to draw his out for as long as his body would allow. The others hadn't responded to his scream yet. Chances were they'd all been killed too. Now only he remained: the last of the royal guard, fated to die like some pathetic animal.
In the distance, something howled. Zephyr barely had time to concentrate on the sound before he was plunged under again. The vampire turned the blade slowly, drawing yet more cries from Zephyr. He writhed with the agony, eyes widening and fists clenching around nothing.
And then a sound like nothing he had ever heard before. Through soaking eyes, he looked up to see a flash of silver. The vampire jumped back as something knocked him to the ground.
Zephyr sensed a presence behind him. A voice, deep but soft, said, “Can you hear me?”
Zephyr nodded. He could barely see for the pain, though he could tell the vampire was in trouble on the other side of the clearing. There was a brief shudder as the unknown figure took hold of the sword, then pulled it cleanly from him. Blood welled up in its place. Zephyr gasped sharply.
The figure was there at once to comfort him. His hands slipped behind Zephyr's shoulders and eased him into a sitting position. Now that the sword was free, the wound had already started to heal. He could feel the pain ebbing away by the second. The relief was indescribable.
Wiping the moisture from his eyes, he looked across the clearing. What he saw make his heart jolt.
Beside the trees stood a wolf. Five foot long and snarling, its fur shimmered beige and silver in the moonlight. The vampire's body motionless lay at its feet.
Realisation struck Zephyr like a hammer.
He glanced up at his rescuer and felt his face pale. Justice raised an eyebrow at him.
“Your Majesty.” Zephyr almost tripped over himself as he rose into a bow. Pain stabbed at his stomach. The king caught his shoulder, making him pause.
“Don't move,” he mumbled. “You're hurt. “
Zephyr nodded. Whilst one part of him hated himself for showing such bad manners in front of the king, he was glad for the order. Every part of him felt drained. He looked up at the king. Justice's face was a mask, his full expression hidden behind a curtain of black hair. Just staring for too long was enough to make Zephyr feel anxious.
A thought hit him. “Are the others okay?”
“Three are alive. Bem is dead.”
Zephyr felt his insides clench in horror. Justice nodded towards the far side of the clearing. “Is that Ilse?”
Zephyr couldn't bring himself to look. “Yes.”
The king nodded. For the first time, sorrow darkened his features. He stood up and turned to the wolf. The animal caught his eyes and bounded over, as if it could read its master's expression.
“The rest of the guard are waiting outside the cave,” he said. “Go over when you feel you're ready.” He shot a sideways glance at Zephyr and pulled his lips into a tight line. Then he disappeared into the trees.
Once Zephyr could no longer sense the king's presence, he pulled himself to his feet. Blood stained his tunic and his wound twinged, though the pain was nowhere near as bad as before. He shuddered at the recent memory.
He swept his eyes over his surroundings. The vampire was collapsed in a pool of his own blood, sword by his side. Though Zephyr could sense a faint heartbeat, he knew it would be a while before he regained consciousness. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Then he turned to the second, closer body.
Ilse lay on her front in the centre of the clearing. As Zephyr approached, he noticed how calm she looked. Peaceful, almost. As if she had curled up to sleep. He bent down and lay his head against her back. Her smell filled him.
The guard had lost Bem, its leader. And now he had lost his mission partner. The one who had trained him, watched him grow, fought by his side and saved his life at the very end.
Taking her shoulders in his hands, Zephyr buried his nose in her armour and began to cry.
*
The vampire shook, hissed and thrashed against his restraints, but no matter what, they wouldn't budge.
“Calm down,” said Justice. “Do you think in all my years I haven't learnt how to tie a knot?”
The vampire gritted his teeth. “You bastard. You killed my men.”
“And you killed mine.” In one movement, Justice swept forward and bent over the vampire, who flinched.
From the trees behind emerged a figure. A hood was pulled low over his eyes. Justice glanced over his shoulder and took a step back.
Zephyr looked down at the sight before him. The vampire's collar was stained with blood, his hands tied to the rock above his head. He was helpless. If it had been any other of the brigands, Zephyr might have pitied them. Now he felt only hatred.
“Oh, l-look,” stammered the vampire. A smile rose to his face. “It's the little boy. Still pissed about your partner?”
Zephyr felt a familiar anger prickle within him, but he didn't let himself react. He turned to Justice. “Ten minutes until sunrise.”
The king glanced at the horizon. “Correct. We should rejoin the others and take shelter.”
The vampire's eyes flicked between them, then widened. “Wait. You're not going to leave me here, are you?” His voice grew louder with panic.
“For what you've done, it would be the most merciful end,” murmured the king.
“No.” The vampire was shaking now. He wrestled with his bonds again. “You can't. Please. I'm begging you.”
The sight of him struggling there ignited something inside Zephyr. It was a strange feeling - repulsive in a way, yet exhilarating. He wanted to watch the vampire burn. He wanted to see him in pain.
This must have been what revenge felt like.
As the vampire's cries fell silent, Justice turned to Zephyr. His eyes lingered on him, as if he were making a decision. Finally he said, “Return to the others. I'll be there soon.”
Zephyr frowned, but didn't argue. Once he was out of sight, the king returned his attention to the vampire. There was silence for a few moments. The vampire's shoulders were taught as he stared up at Justice.
“The world is a harsh place,” said Justice at last. “Everyone battles constantly against one another for survival. Animals, humans, vampires. It's all one big food chain.”
The vampire blinked, taken aback by these words.
“And yet there are those who kill for dominance. As if their placement in the world isn't enough.”
With a flick of Justice's head, the bushes on either side of the clearing rustled. Two wolves broke forth - one silver, one brown - and padded towards him. The vampire's face grew wild with horror.
"I suppose we'll see how nature plays this one out."
The vampire snapped his eyes shut and breathed in. When he opened them again, the king had disappeared. He searched the clearing, but there was no sign of him. He was gone.
A low growl brought his attention back to the wolves. The silver one's lips were pulled back, revealing a row of hard white teeth. It stalked towards him and stopped an inch from his face. Two amber eyes stared into him.
The first rays of sunlight broke through the trees. Dawn had arrived.
The story is set in the winter between In the Name of Justice and Dark Wings in my Vampire Saga timeline. Zephyr is a canon character, but the rest are my own. Maybe I should include the royal guard in a later story.
This cheesefest is dedicated to write_my_dreams. Happy Birthday, bruh. ☺
Dandelion
“Laughter. That's what this country needs.”
The woman looked up from the floor. “What?”
“Just think about it, Ilse.” Zephyr swung his sword into a root at his feet. “Marthiel is so serious nowadays. Especially up here in the north. I haven't seen one person smile since leaving home.”
The woman, Ilse, snorted and flicked a piece of grass from under her nail. “It's hard to smile when your country's spiralling into poverty.” She watched the young man swing his sword again, this time into a small bush. “You handle that well. And to think just weeks ago you were still a bard in that dingy tavern.
“Thanks.” Zephyr grinned. “You don't sing about heroes without picking up a few tips.” Slowly, he lowered his blade and turned into the forest. “How long does it take to sound a signal, anyway?”
“They'll signal when they're ready. And even after that, we have to wait for King Justice,” Ilse mumbled. “Now sit down.”
Frowning, Zephyr sheathed his sword and took a seat beside Ilse. Waiting. Ever since his grandfather Rafaga had summoned him a month ago, he'd been doing nothing but waiting. Surely joining the royal guard would be more fun than this? Days of talking, training for battles he would never fight. Even the group they were tracking now was nothing more than a band of simple brigands.
His eyes flicked around the forest, taking in the trees, the dark undergrowth, the faint mist that hung above the ground. He thought about the humans in his town, how even the best had eyesight so poor an environment like this would appear flat and lifeless. Zephyr couldn't imagine not being able to see the leaf veins, the sharpness of the moonlight against everything it hit, the dust motes suspended in the air. With such a limited view of the world, it was no wonder so many humans went mad.
He was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of a horn. Low, distant, but unmistakeable. He turned to Ilse. She was already on her feet.
“Is that the signal?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Zephyr's heart leapt to his throat. He stood, then set off into a sprint towards the source of the sound. Ilse followed close behind. Her long hair, black as her armour, caught the moonlight like a blade.
They arrived in a small clearing where two other vampires waited. Bem, the bearded leader of the guard, nodded at their arrival.
Zephyr looked around. The run had warmed him up and left him restless. He pulled his sleeves back into place. For this operation, he'd swapped his usual colourful clothing for a light black tunic and brown boots. His pale red hair, usually loose over his shoulders, was tied back under his hood. He may not have looked as elegant as the others in their sleek light armour, but he moved and felt like a shadow nonetheless.
The final pair emerged from the trees, completing the group. The first was Petri. The figure on his right, Joanna, joined Ilse as the guard's only females. She winked at Zephyr as she approached. Zephyr lowered his head.
“Right,” said Bem. “Now that we're all here, I don't want to waste time. Dawn is in less than an hour, and every second is precious.”
Zephyr glanced to the east, where the faintest tinge of pink was beginning to glow on the horizon.
“The brigands have made rest in a nearby cave. There are eight in total.” continued Bem's partner, Alder. “The king will be here soon. Only on his command shall we attack. In the meantime, we need someone to go to the cave and watch over the brigands, just to track any movement.”
Zephyr shot a sideways glance at Ilse. She'd already caught his glance. He raised a hand.
“Alder,” he said. “We'll do it.”
For a moment, all eyes were on him. Bem frowned, considering the proposal. Then he shook his head. “No. Ilse has the best hearing out of all of us. We'll need her here.” He motioned with his hand. “Joanna, go with Zephyr.”
Smiling, Joanna walked over. Zephyr felt his heart fall.
“Report back any suspicious activity,” Bem said. “But whatever happens, do not let the vampires see you. We attack as one, and on the king's command.”
Zephyr nodded. “Of course.”
They left swiftly after that, bounding side-by-side through the trees. Zephyr made sure to keep his distance as he moved. It didn't work. Before he knew it, Joanna was by his side.
“Fancy Bem lumping me with you,” she said.
Zephyr pretended to ignore her. His eyes darted around, seeking out anything that may serve as a distraction. Up ahead, the trees parted and thinned out. He came to a stop and surveyed his surroundings.
The forest floor continued for a short distance before rising to form a verge, then dropping into a clearing. On the far side stood a second verge, though this was much higher, with a cracked rock face. A cave, about six feet high, split the wall in two.
Zephyr crouched on the ground and peered over the verge. This was the place Bem was talking about - no doubt about it. Though it was too dark to see, he could sense movement from inside the cave.
“Do you smell it?” muttered Joanna, shuffling up beside him.
“Smell what?” Zephyr glanced at her, then paused as a familiar scent tickled him. He turned his eyes back to the cave.
“Blood,” said Joanna. “It's not strong enough to be human. They've probably killed a deer.”
Zephyr wrinkled his nose. “Disgusting.”
“More disgusting than murdering an entire group of travellers?” Joanna fixed him with an icy stare. “These vampires are a menace. They kill for fun. They need to be destroyed.”
There was a few minutes of silence as Zephyr watched the cave mouth. The ground was damp - he could feel it through his clothes. He shifted silently. When he looked back at Joanna, he saw she was smiling.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I'm just wondering whether you're still angry about training.”
For the second time that day, Zephyr ignored her, though this time he felt his cheeks redden. He tried not to think about his training days, when he'd failed miserably at Joanna's hands nine out of ten times they'd sparred. It wasn't his fault. She'd been fighting for years. He, on the other hand, had been pulled from his normal life and encouraged into the guard by Rafaga. It was only natural that he would fall far short of her.
“You're angry with me, aren't you? It's fine.” She paused. “Don't you like older women, Zephyr?”
I don't like you, Zephyr thought. He opened his mouth to speak, but something stopped him short. Suddenly still, Joanna raised a finger to her lips, then pointed to the clearing. Zephyr followed her to the cave mouth, where a figure stood. His skin was pale and his hair shone dark red in the moonlight.
Zephyr's heart leapt to his throat. He watched the vampire stretch his arms, dark eyes surveying the clearing. Thankfully, he hadn't spotted them yet, though Zephyr feared it would only be a matter of time. Perhaps he would pick up their heart beats, or catch their scents. He lowered his head to the ground.
A light shuffling sound brought Zephyr's attention back to Joanna. She had risen into a crouch and was creeping slowly away. His eyes widened. What was she thinking? The king hadn't arrived yet, and they hadn't heard any kind of signal from the others. He motioned furiously at her to stop, but she didn't take notice.
Zephyr's eyes flicked back to the red-headed vampire. He seemed to sense something in the woods, and was now scanning the verge. Zephyr held his breath.
Something small, like a stone, landed on the left side of the clearing. The vampire's head snapped around. Half a moment later, Joanna burst from the trees, sprang towards him and pinned him face-first to the floor. There was a brief flurry of claws and snarls. Then Joanna lowered her head and tore at the vampire's neck. When she looked up, the lower half of her face was stained red. The vampire fell still below her.
“Zephyr,” she hissed. “Come and help me.”
Zephyr glanced at the cave, then back at Joanna. Finally, he vaulted over the edge and landed in the clearing.
Beckoning him over, Joanna pointed to the vampire's body. “He's not dead, but he's alone. The others aren't in the cave.”
“What are you talking about?” muttered Zephyr, but paused anyway. His face paled. Apart from Joanna and his own heartbeat, he couldn't sense any movement from his surroundings. It was just as Joanna had said. The cave was empty.
A crackling sound, like footsteps on leaves, split the air. Zephyr spun to see a figure emerging from the trees. He smiled as his face became visible. He opened his mouth. “Oops.”
Zephyr's hand flew to his sword, but it was too late. More vampires were coming forth now, each blocking a potential exit. They were surrounded.
Slowly, Joanna straightened. Her eyes flicked around the clearing, counting the figures. Zephyr had already done it. There were seven.
The first vampire moved forward. He had to be the leader, Zephyr thought. Everything about him, from his stance to his dark eyes, boasted confidence. He looked down at the body on the floor, then back at the pair. “Quite the violent ones, aren't you?”
Zephyr felt his eyes narrow. “As if you can talk.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.
The vampire laughed softly in response. He nodded to the others. “Catch them, but don't kill them. I want to know where the others are.”
At once, the vampires advanced. Zephyr's shoulders seized. This had been a planned ambush. Somehow, they had known about the operation and the rest of the guard too. Gritting his teeth, he reached for his sword and whipped it from its sheath.
A pair of vampires leapt at him. Zephyr took a step back and raised his sword. The others, he noticed, were armed only with daggers, though that didn't stop them from attacking with full force. A blade swiped at him, narrowly missing his cheek. He ducked to avoid a second blow.
The sound of shouting rose up from behind. Joanna was flooded with attackers. Zephyr watched in his peripheral vision as two came at her from the sides. He spun around to help her. Something hard landed in his back and sent him stumbling forwards.
“Zephyr,” Joanna hissed. “Go. Get the others.”
The man barely had time to nod. Spinning again, he lifted his sword and slashed blindly at the figure behind. The blade caught the figure's shoulder. He reeled back in pain.
Gasping, Zephyr broke away and ran. He knew his way back to the clearing. If he could get there before the enemies, he'd give the rest of the guard enough time to prepare an attack. Unless they'd caught sound of Joanna's shouting, in which case they were no doubt on their way to rescue them right now.
When he reached the clearing, Zephyr jolted to a stop and looked around. It was empty. The others must have left. As he prepared to return to the cave, something moved in the trees behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. A figure strolled forward.
It was the vampire from before, the one Zephyr had assumed was the leader. A sword was in his hands. Zephyr turned to face him.
“Why are you so intent on killing my men?” the vampire said slowly.
Zephyr didn't answer him. He knew he was being taunted. Slowly, he raised his sword and held it poised. The vampire only smiled.
“Set it down, boy. It doesn't suit you.”
Zephyr's heart beat fast. He shook his head. “Not until you're on your knees.”
His opponent's eyes narrowed. “Fine.”
The vampire struck first. Gritting his teeth, he raced forward and swung his sword. Zephyr just managed to deflect the blow. Another swing. Zephyr slipped out of the way, then brought his knee up into the vampire's side, knocking him back. Zephyr knew his opening had arrived. He swiped his sword up towards the vampire's ribs.
But he wasn't fast enough. The vampire's gloved hand shot out and caught the blade mid-swing. He jerked his arm, wrenching the sword from Zephyr's hands.
Zephyr stared up at him in shock. He'd never been disarmed before - not even in training. As his alarm grew into panic, he watched the vampire throw his sword to the side. It landed somewhere between the trees.
“Get on your knees.” The vampire extended his blade towards him. The tip hovered before his throat.
Zephyr didn’t move. He’d forgotten how to. His eyes flicked towards the far trees, but his sword was nowhere to be seen. Slowly, he bent one knee. The vampire’s eyes followed him like a hawk’s.
A sudden rustling moved the bushes behind him. Moments later, a figure burst from the darkness. Zephyr ducked as it sped towards the vampire, growling animalistically.
Ilse’s face flashed before him. She swung her sword into the vampire’s, knocking it away. “Zephyr,” she spat. “You have to keep moving. Go!”
No sooner had she finished speaking, a second figure tore from the trees. It was one of the enemy vampires, a female. Zephyr forced himself to break position and leapt towards her. With no weapon, he would have to rely on his own strength.
His arms fastened around her neck and pulled her backwards. The vampire hissed. Her teeth dug into his lower arm and fastened on, making Zephyr cry out with pain.
He heard Ilse call his name, and then the gleam of metal. The side of Ilse’s sword came down upon the vampire’s head, sending shudders through Zephyr’s body. She fell limp in his arms.
Gasping, Zephyr dropped the female to the ground. A line of blood crept from her nose. He stepped back.
Ilse walked towards him, her expression livid. “So, was it you or Joanna? Who was the idiot?”
It took Zephyr a moment to realise she was talking about the attack at the cave clearing. He opened his mouth to speak, but Ilse cut him off.
“Forget it. The others need our help.” She motioned to the female vampire’s body. “She’ll be out for a while more. As for their leader-”
Her sentence ended abruptly. For a moment, Zephyr wondered what had made her stop. Then his eyes fell upon the side of her neck. A deep gash split the skin and blood dribbled down, staining her collar red. Her lips quivered. Zephyr's eyes widened.
A hand wound in her hair and wrenched her head back. Her pale throat shimmered in the moonlight. The blade of a sword flashed, then swung into the side of her neck, twice, three times. At last, her body shuddered and fell to the ground.
Zephyr was frozen. Every part of him felt numb, his feet fastened to the ground in horror. The smell of Ilse's blood drifted towards him, warm and metallic. A few drops had splashed onto his clothes too. He felt like he was going to be sick.
Slowly, the vampire stepped over Ilse's body. Her head still hung in his hands. He flicked his wrist, tossing it aside. He marched towards Zephyr, raised his boot and buried it in his stomach. Zephyr was too petrified to resist. He fell squarely onto his back.
The tip of the vampire's sword hooked under his hood and eased it back. When he saw Zephyr's face, he laughed. “I never thought I'd see the day when the royal guard sent little boys to do their work.”
His words washed over Zephyr, meaningless. His eyes were fixed on Ilse's body. Over and over his mind replayed the moment of her death, and each time he felt himself slip closer to the dark lake of unconsciousness he knew would swallow him soon.
A sudden, blinding pain twisted across Zephyr's chest. He looked across to see the vampire's sword piercing his shoulder. A new type of agony filled him, one that bit and tore and seared. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back screams.
“Go on, boy,” said the vampire, leaning over him. “Cry for your friends.”
Zephyr clenched his teeth together. He could feel his eyes grow wet with tears. “J-just try. They'll kill you.”
“Oh, really?” Smiling, the vampire pulled back his sword, making Zephyr gasp. Then he took the handle in both hands and stabbed it down into his stomach.
Zephyr shrieked. The cold metal burned against his skin, passing straight through him to the ground below. He reached out and wrapped his hands around the sword, though he was too weak to pull it out, and his fingers slipped against the pooling blood.
He tilted back his head and tried to concentrate on the heaving of his chest, the glide of his breaths. In his mind, he cried out for Ilse to save him. Then he remembered. Of course - she was gone. Another chilling thought crossed his mind.
I am going to die here, just like Ilse.
Yes, he thought. That was right. Only Ilse's death had been quick. The vampire was probably going to draw his out for as long as his body would allow. The others hadn't responded to his scream yet. Chances were they'd all been killed too. Now only he remained: the last of the royal guard, fated to die like some pathetic animal.
In the distance, something howled. Zephyr barely had time to concentrate on the sound before he was plunged under again. The vampire turned the blade slowly, drawing yet more cries from Zephyr. He writhed with the agony, eyes widening and fists clenching around nothing.
And then a sound like nothing he had ever heard before. Through soaking eyes, he looked up to see a flash of silver. The vampire jumped back as something knocked him to the ground.
Zephyr sensed a presence behind him. A voice, deep but soft, said, “Can you hear me?”
Zephyr nodded. He could barely see for the pain, though he could tell the vampire was in trouble on the other side of the clearing. There was a brief shudder as the unknown figure took hold of the sword, then pulled it cleanly from him. Blood welled up in its place. Zephyr gasped sharply.
The figure was there at once to comfort him. His hands slipped behind Zephyr's shoulders and eased him into a sitting position. Now that the sword was free, the wound had already started to heal. He could feel the pain ebbing away by the second. The relief was indescribable.
Wiping the moisture from his eyes, he looked across the clearing. What he saw make his heart jolt.
Beside the trees stood a wolf. Five foot long and snarling, its fur shimmered beige and silver in the moonlight. The vampire's body motionless lay at its feet.
Realisation struck Zephyr like a hammer.
He glanced up at his rescuer and felt his face pale. Justice raised an eyebrow at him.
“Your Majesty.” Zephyr almost tripped over himself as he rose into a bow. Pain stabbed at his stomach. The king caught his shoulder, making him pause.
“Don't move,” he mumbled. “You're hurt. “
Zephyr nodded. Whilst one part of him hated himself for showing such bad manners in front of the king, he was glad for the order. Every part of him felt drained. He looked up at the king. Justice's face was a mask, his full expression hidden behind a curtain of black hair. Just staring for too long was enough to make Zephyr feel anxious.
A thought hit him. “Are the others okay?”
“Three are alive. Bem is dead.”
Zephyr felt his insides clench in horror. Justice nodded towards the far side of the clearing. “Is that Ilse?”
Zephyr couldn't bring himself to look. “Yes.”
The king nodded. For the first time, sorrow darkened his features. He stood up and turned to the wolf. The animal caught his eyes and bounded over, as if it could read its master's expression.
“The rest of the guard are waiting outside the cave,” he said. “Go over when you feel you're ready.” He shot a sideways glance at Zephyr and pulled his lips into a tight line. Then he disappeared into the trees.
Once Zephyr could no longer sense the king's presence, he pulled himself to his feet. Blood stained his tunic and his wound twinged, though the pain was nowhere near as bad as before. He shuddered at the recent memory.
He swept his eyes over his surroundings. The vampire was collapsed in a pool of his own blood, sword by his side. Though Zephyr could sense a faint heartbeat, he knew it would be a while before he regained consciousness. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. Then he turned to the second, closer body.
Ilse lay on her front in the centre of the clearing. As Zephyr approached, he noticed how calm she looked. Peaceful, almost. As if she had curled up to sleep. He bent down and lay his head against her back. Her smell filled him.
The guard had lost Bem, its leader. And now he had lost his mission partner. The one who had trained him, watched him grow, fought by his side and saved his life at the very end.
Taking her shoulders in his hands, Zephyr buried his nose in her armour and began to cry.
*
The vampire shook, hissed and thrashed against his restraints, but no matter what, they wouldn't budge.
“Calm down,” said Justice. “Do you think in all my years I haven't learnt how to tie a knot?”
The vampire gritted his teeth. “You bastard. You killed my men.”
“And you killed mine.” In one movement, Justice swept forward and bent over the vampire, who flinched.
From the trees behind emerged a figure. A hood was pulled low over his eyes. Justice glanced over his shoulder and took a step back.
Zephyr looked down at the sight before him. The vampire's collar was stained with blood, his hands tied to the rock above his head. He was helpless. If it had been any other of the brigands, Zephyr might have pitied them. Now he felt only hatred.
“Oh, l-look,” stammered the vampire. A smile rose to his face. “It's the little boy. Still pissed about your partner?”
Zephyr felt a familiar anger prickle within him, but he didn't let himself react. He turned to Justice. “Ten minutes until sunrise.”
The king glanced at the horizon. “Correct. We should rejoin the others and take shelter.”
The vampire's eyes flicked between them, then widened. “Wait. You're not going to leave me here, are you?” His voice grew louder with panic.
“For what you've done, it would be the most merciful end,” murmured the king.
“No.” The vampire was shaking now. He wrestled with his bonds again. “You can't. Please. I'm begging you.”
The sight of him struggling there ignited something inside Zephyr. It was a strange feeling - repulsive in a way, yet exhilarating. He wanted to watch the vampire burn. He wanted to see him in pain.
This must have been what revenge felt like.
As the vampire's cries fell silent, Justice turned to Zephyr. His eyes lingered on him, as if he were making a decision. Finally he said, “Return to the others. I'll be there soon.”
Zephyr frowned, but didn't argue. Once he was out of sight, the king returned his attention to the vampire. There was silence for a few moments. The vampire's shoulders were taught as he stared up at Justice.
“The world is a harsh place,” said Justice at last. “Everyone battles constantly against one another for survival. Animals, humans, vampires. It's all one big food chain.”
The vampire blinked, taken aback by these words.
“And yet there are those who kill for dominance. As if their placement in the world isn't enough.”
With a flick of Justice's head, the bushes on either side of the clearing rustled. Two wolves broke forth - one silver, one brown - and padded towards him. The vampire's face grew wild with horror.
"I suppose we'll see how nature plays this one out."
The vampire snapped his eyes shut and breathed in. When he opened them again, the king had disappeared. He searched the clearing, but there was no sign of him. He was gone.
A low growl brought his attention back to the wolves. The silver one's lips were pulled back, revealing a row of hard white teeth. It stalked towards him and stopped an inch from his face. Two amber eyes stared into him.
The first rays of sunlight broke through the trees. Dawn had arrived.