The Journal of Darkness' Bane

(The Chronicles of Ivrillyn Illynia ("Darkness' Bane"); given to Charles Andrews by Bane himself; roughly translated into English from the original Greek. Written A.D. 54)

By my best reckoning, it has been more than 2700 years since I, Darkness' Bane, first walked as a Mortal upon the earth, and as a born slave to the whim of Ivrillyn, Vampire Queen of Enthrada. In that forgotten time, the Ancients (the oldest Vampires) controlled the known world and all its inhabitants, which included humans, Immortals, and Werewolves. For in those days, the sun was darkened, and no light was there upon the face of the earth, save by fire or moonlight. At dawn, black clouds came to cover the sun, and those clouds did not depart until night fell. Such was the power of the Ancients.

This was the world unto which I was born, where evil reigned and anguish consumed all. Only the dead and the ageless remember what that era was like, ere the Immortals came, when giant men walked on the sod, and Mortals lived to be several hundreds of years old, and the Wolves were simple folk, and the Dragon-kin were many. But now the giants are dead and forgotten, the Dragons are become mere myths, and the Wolves are driven ever and anon to bloodlust. Men too are more frail and live not even a century before they shut their eyes in never-ending sleep. Yet the Immortals remain changeless, always evil, always young, always ravenous. But while I also am eternal, I am not one of them. Though my body is forever young, yet my heart is old, and my soul is weary.

But I was not always this creature that I am. I too was once human, no better or worse than my people. I too toiled in the unending darkness of day during that age when the Immortals blotted out the sun. I also loved and bled, and was loved and bled for. Like all men, I feared death, though now I would welcome it, if only it could find me. But it is not proper to open a story in its middle, I believe, unless the writer fully intends to tell how it all began, as I do.

Though my counting of years is poor, as I have known too many, my best calculation places my birth at a little more than 2600 years before Julius Caesar conquered Gaul. At that time, the Immortal Empire had already been nearly 400 years in existence, and Ivrillyn (whose name means "Darkness"), favorite of Brevok's descendants, ruled the Enthrada, what the Romans now call Gallia and Germania. In the heart of that realm, where now rests the town of Lugdunum, once sat an even greater city, which was known by the name Dementanon, the capital of Enthrada. Here resided Ivrillyn upon a carven throne in a palace of stone at Dementanon's center. All feared her, even her own kind, for she was darkly beautiful beyond compare, and her malevolence knew no equal in that land.

No, I was not born there in that city. My home laid many leagues to the east of Dementanon, though I cannot decide the exact location now, as it was many centuries ago, and the world has changed much since then. Yet I am confident that my people were more Germanic than Gallic, as we were dark of hair and eyes, and often of poor temperament, though rebellions were few among my people, as we understood well the power of the Immortals.

I was born to a small family of farmers. I say small because there were only five of us, but even for so few, I can no longer remember my parents' and siblings' names; alas, I cannot even recall my own name. But of three children, I was the youngest; before me came my brother and my sister, in that order. Life was uncomplicated yet fearful for us, as I remember it, though we lived virtually untouched by the Vampires and their Sentinels (Wolves who lived to protect their Vampire masters).

I have few remaining memories now of my early life, and it pains me to admit it. Although some say time passes swiftly for those who enjoy it, I do not believe it is because of this that I have forgotten. Time has a way of tearing from us the things we cherish most, even our memories of them. But for me also, my years as a Mortal preceded my Immortal life, and my Vampire-self felt little need to retain memory of those things that happened before it. Thus I have forgotten much that came before my decades with Darkness. But I am getting ahead of myself.

Even now, I can clearly see my mother's and father's faces and the faces of my elder brother and sister. But I can barely recall what kind of people they were. My parents died young, when I was but a boy; it was not uncommon in those days. Many humans of that time did not live past their fortieth year, though most of them became food for the Vampires and their Wolfen pets. Yet life during that age of the world was hard, even for farmers. Toiling night and day in the unfading dark, in fear for self and kin, aged the body too quickly, and the heart often gave out before its time. But there was no other choice, unless you desired the death of a rebel.

Thus, we who chose life, short though it promised to be, labored ceaselessly in the unkindness of night, merely to obtain what little could be grown in a world without sunlight. In truth, as a Mortal and Immortal both, I long believed that the sun was nothing more than a myth, a promise of hope that aided humanity from succumbing to complete despair, a mere tale the Ancients concocted to help keep their favorite food alive. As a Mortal, I was utterly without hope, and that is why I followed her…

Again, I must retrace my steps, to tell of my youth, or what little I remember. I never really knew my parents as I would have liked, and I know I wept at their passing. But for me, my sister was my mother, and my brother was my father. My sister was several years older than I, and my brother a few years older than she. I do remember that it was she who took care of me, fed me, clothed me, who held me in her arms when I was ill, in whose embrace I often fell into sleep and dreams of blissful days that did not exist. But she was not my comforter, for the shedding of tears hastened hers as well; thus, when I wept, I did so far from home, alone, as I could not bear the sight of her sadness. She was a gentle soul, soft-spoken and ever smiling, but she was not strong of heart, and the sight of her was always one of grief and hardship. Yet, she could always put such things aside at need, as in her often desperate means of discipline. On such occasions—for I was a willful child—she would attempt to become angry with me, contorting her features into some semblance of fury, but I could genuinely see through her empty wrath, sometimes even laughing at it, though this would only entice her affectionately swift hand, which always curbed my demeanor instantly. Do not doubt that I loved my sister. Often do I wish I could remember her better, and our brother as well.

Our brother—a more decent and unselfserving man I have never known. Every hour of his days was spent in toil, to provide for his sister and little brother all the things they needed, a roof over their heads, warm clothing on their backs, and food to eat. Every work he set himself to was done with great fervor, even until his hands bled. Never would he have allowed us to go without in anything. A harder man than most, still, his heart was lighter than his actions; even I knew that. He knew how to laugh, and he did so often, though Sister rarely shared his jolliness with him, and I did not have to wonder at this. Whereas he was stout and warm—and often of bad temperament when he thought his siblings were not near—she was pale and frail of heart, but not limb. I can see now that I inherited her general disposition, as I know how to love, but my heart is given ever to despair. Yet my temper is his, for he could be fierce in wrath when he felt himself or his beloved ones were threatened, and though I am not as stout of body or as tall as he was, the ferocity of my fury is most certainly his. But my brother was a loving man, and although I could prove this knowledge in many ways—some such memories more notable than others—above all, it was he who taught me to sing. Is this not greater evidence of love?

It seems to me that the years passed swiftly; or rather, they are a blur and unclear to me now. But over time, my brother married and brought his bride into our home, and my sister too was given in marriage, and she went to live with her husband in the next village. I saw her seldom after that, but whenever I could, I would travel the leagues to visit her, and she always shed a tear at my parting, as did I at the sight of her. Soon my brother's wife bore children, as did my sister, and when I held the infants in my arms, I was overcome with a sense of longing for a family of my own. This my brother saw, and just before my eighteenth year, he arranged for me a wife, and for the first time in many years, my heart was made glad. But I never had the chance to know my intended bride, for it was in that same season that Darkness came unto my home, and my hope of happiness was lost.

It was loneliness that brought her forth from the sanctity of her depraved city. Ivrillyn, youngest of the Ancients, was without a companion. For what Immortal of sound mind would willingly bind himself to her, the queen of superior malice? All Vampires, save the Ancients only, shrank in her presence, for she was as likely to turn on them as on a negligent slave. And the sight of her cruelty was terrifying. Thus she was alone, a queen without a king, but she refused to remain that way. Ceaselessly she wandered about the towns and countrysides of the Enthrada, searching for any Immortal or slave who would make a suitable mate.

Now it so happened that my home laid near to the main road that passed through that region, and Ivrillyn's chariot came by that way. And when she saw me laboring in the fields, she commanded her chariot to stop. Hearing the commotion of the chariot and the queen's entourage of Sentinels, I lifted my eyes in curiosity, for until then, I had been fortunate enough to have never seen a Vampire or a Wolf, though I had never thought of it in that way. But as my eyes surveyed the tall, broad Wolf-men and the golden chariot in their midst, my gaze found the cold, malicious stare of Darkness, yet even then, I felt no fear. Though, at first, all I could see was the dark beauty of that evil queen, I soon realized by her dress and pale grey eyes that she was a Vampire. With lithe, effortless movements she came down from her chariot and stalked closer to me, a slight, unsettling grin displayed across her elegant ruby lips. Her Sentinels followed only a few steps behind her. As she came nearer, I gripped my bag of vegetable seeds tighter, as though it were a weapon to be reckoned with. But when she was only an arm's reach from me, she stood still, her eyes appraising me discomfortingly. I did not move, as I was uncertain of what I should do. But my brother was only a few strides behind me, and that gave me comfort, like a father who is the sword and shield of his son. That, however, meant little to Ivrillyn.

"Come nearer, Alcus," she spoke suddenly, addressing one of the Sentinels closest to her. The mere sound of her voice chilled my bones in a manner to which none have ever compared. That Wolf, Alcus, took a few more half-hearted steps towards us, and Darkness continued speaking. "Give this one the rare scrutiny of your sight, and tell me, is he not handsome?"

Alcus smiled nervously and answered, "Handsome? Yes, my queen, he is that. But is he not somewhat short?"

With hardly a backward glance, Darkness turned and struck him across the face with the back of her hand (which required her to reach all the way up in the air to do so), and she said, "Nay, he is my equal in height, if but only a hair taller. And unless you would call me of little stature, you should wisely hold your tongue."

To that, the Wolf spat blood and bowed in acquiescence.

Again she turned to me and spoke, "Yes, indeed you are handsome. And perhaps brave too, for I see no fear in your eyes, and by that am I intrigued. Will you come away with me, precious boy? Come away to my city, and there I shall show you sights and wonders your mind could not hope to imagine."

At these words, my brother cried out with a fear and fury I had never seen in him, and without a normal man's hesitation, he rush upon Darkness, a bloodlust clearly lit in his eyes. How he intended to overcome such a vicious adversary, only a desperate father can know. But even as his fist leapt out and came within an inch of Ivrillyn's exquisite face, the Wolves were upon him, dragging him to the ground in a flailing mess of limbs.

The evil queen instantly jumped backwards in alarm, but seeing her attacker so quickly subdued, she simply glared at him with a wicked smile and said, "Verily, he is a daring one, if nothing else, but that we cannot have. Tear the boldness from him, Alcus."

But now it was I who did a thing equally foolish to that of my brother. Without thinking, I seized Darkness by the throat and cried out to them, "Nay! Stay your claws and your teeth, for if you do not, I shall snap your precious queen's neck like a dried twig!"

Before that day, I had no conception of how strong Vampires are, and it was my undoing. More quickly than I, or even my brother, had acted, she grabbed me by my wrists and threw me to the ground as though it required no effort at all. Before my mind could even realize what had happened, or how much breath had been thrust from my lungs, she was already standing on my hands, looking down playfully at my prostrate body.

"Rarely have I seen such courage," she mused, "especially in one so fair. Perhaps you are worthy of me, or you will be, once your defiance is beaten out of you. Still, if you prove not to be, at least I shall enjoy your agony, and greatly will I. Shall I begin by forcing you to watch as my Sentinels tear that other insolent one apart? Tell me, is he your father?"

"My brother," I answered simply with a grunt of pain.

She turned her sparkling eyes on him, then back to me, before replying. "The fires in your veins burn equally in ferocity, I see, but in you do I deem the worst of it. For where his attempt was one of defense and self-sacrifice, yours was only murderous. He would have struck me and run, I think, hoping to out-distance us in the confusion while he carried you away upon his shoulders. But you…even if my Sentinels had released him, you would have killed me anyway, or at least tried. Do I not speak truthfully?"

"You do," I growled.

"Gallant and honest," she teased. "You shall make an excellent prince indeed." She knelt down slowly, bringing her face closer to mine, and whispered, "Rejoice, precious boy, for now you are the prized slave of Ivrillyn, Queen of Enthrada, and only my love will you ever know, to the end of your days and beyond. Yet if you come with me willingly, I shall grant you a gift: I will spare your brother's life."

No more prodding than that did I need, and immediately I answered, "Yes! Yes, I shall go, but only if he lives!"

She stood and released my hands from under her heavy-sandaled feet, and then turned back to her Wolves. "Loose the big one," she said uncaringly, "but take the boy to my chariot."

Never had I seen such an expression upon my brother's face when he heard these things. One might have thought she had just cut out his heart, but a grieving father would say that it is worse still to lose a child, especially in such a way. But as the Wolves struggled to keep my brother subdued, Alcus led me by the arm as we followed Darkness away. I can still see my dear brother, a broken man left on the ground, enveloped in tears as we rode westward to Dementanon. The person I was died that day, though my mortal body lived on, and I did not mourn it. As I said before, I was without hope, and those without hope often succumb to the beckoning of evil.