Darius’ Second Crime

A fog of shadow daunted through Darius’ chamber. Moon light trickled through his glassless window, revealing his gaze and pale complexion. Madness filled his pupils and pulsed through his veins with a new kind of disease. Hatred induced a new mission and a different kind of will, a purpose forged in fire and death. His face cringed with pain and his fangs extended past their previous maximum. The thought of Empresses Lodmai’s current absence and the breaking of two commandments drove his insanity too the point of no return.

Domitius entered the chamber to find his beloved brother crouched and hidden in the darkest corner of the room. Darius was quaking weakly as though fear was about him. His hands were placed over his face. His breathes were in deep inhauls and exhales, which were amplified by their movement between his fingers. Domitius took his brother’s state as a product of guilt for their crimes against Kalen.

“Brother, do not worry. Kalen will not place the full weight of her punishment on you, for the drinking of Desino’s blood. He had to be weakened. It was for the best. If you are punished than I will share in your damnation for the murder of our sibling,” Domtius said reassuringly

“None of us will be forgiven, for our sins against the most high are still incomplete,” Darius whispered into the air with an unfamiliar rasp of a voice. He snapped into a fertile rage standing in a striking stance, and grabbing his axe from the darkness’ nothing. Its blade created a rush of red flame which lit the room with its bright explosion. In the same assault Domitius clutched and pulled his blue sword from his cloak, blocking his brothers’ strike defensively. Both the weapons met entwining flames into a single violet glow.

“Brother are you possessed!?” shouted Domitius. Darius drew back his attack extinguishing the purple glow. Crimson light showed from his axe and reflected off his face, while Domitius’ sword painted his side with blue. The blades met with another strike, causing the blue and red to disappear in an array of purple sparks, and between every strike the original colors returned. The battle heated to the point that only a strobe light of violet lit the room. With a scrape from Darius’ axe his brother lost his grip over the sky colored saber. The red axe showed brightly, taking dominion over the room in a crimson glow.

“I say to you brother, yes I am possessed. From the minute of my birth I was hidden from the world, incased in a mother’s prison. I awake to find my brothers and sisters living in glory, content and happy. Would you not be possessed to know that your mother loves all her children to the point she does not have enough love left for you?” Darius said in the same whisper, standing over his brother.

When Darius’ sight cleared and level headedness seemed to have taken control, he found Domitius’ laying face first in a lake of his own blood. Darius let out a mournful cry realizing what he had done. Kitow came into the room and hugged her sibling’s leg, covering her face in it. Her voice was frightened, reflecting her physical age over her actual period of existence.

“You must leave Kitow. You must leave and learn to fend for yourself. This Empire and our race, which sleeps so comfortably in it, are no longer safe.”

Kitow ran out leaving the lonely vampire to his mourning of his deeds. He threw his axe to the ground in a rage dimming the room of its light. A hidden raven crept from the night, through the open window, to scowl upon Darius. After what seemed more than enough of a good look, the bird flew from the fortress in a rush of ebon feathers.

The First Moot

Wendigo called the first of the council of the Lycan together. It was held in the dark frost of a mountain whose ancient name has been forgotten. Wendigo felt that slowly werewolves were becoming more and more vicious, losing human nature in their animal instinct. The Black and the Bone were to blame for this.

Around the fire they sat. Only the leaders of each pack were allowed to the moot, because Wendigo felt that it was a possibility if the other lower werewolves were to hear what he had to say, a war would be started between the packs. With understanding Wendigo knew that lycan were killers at nature but believe it was his duty to turn such a fate away from his race. He could see that if the development of blood thrust was allowed to continue, the werewolf would eventually bring the end of all things.

“Brothers the killing must stop. Humanity does not need to be our source of food, nor should it be. Our power should not be squandered, feasting on human flesh. I have seen it brothers. I have seen lycan loss the ability to shape shift back into their human form. I have seen werewolves who can no longer speak. I have seen growling mongrels lacking any emotion that could ever be considered human except the need to feed and mate. We are not dogs. We are not a disease that should be spread across the globe,” Wendigo opened the moot with his first statement.

“He speaks the truth. Lupus and Medulla have committed crimes against the human race. With their blood lust and their increase of numbers many rogue werewolf packs have been formed. These new rogue breeds can only speak in howls and growls, shape shifters who have lost their ability to be human, lycan who feast on whole villages of people,” Liam started before being interrupted by Lupus.

“How dare you suggest that we have committed any crime? It is our right brothers to purge the human race of the weak leaving the survivors to add to our rank. Why should we not feed on humanity? It is our natural hunger. No blood or meat tastes better than that of a human being, nor can any of you deny it. Our human half is weak and I say it is better if we rid ourselves of it. If all I was brought here to do is listen to the strict preaching of the damned, than this is good bye,” Lupus shouted angrily, before transforming with a howl. He marched into the night, leaving the moot to their discussion.