THE COUNCIL OF CREATURES
The sky had turned a dark shade of violet before they knew it. Dracula had taken to jumping over treetops while Xavier followed on the ground, the thoughts of what others said about the Great Vampire spiraling in his mind.
“Yet another thing that Vampire keeps from his own kind...what he really is: a murderer...he also must be destroyed...”
But what was the truth?
He ran, looking up, the quick shadow of the Vampire jumping from tree to tree, blocking out the stars like some sort of eclipse, and it was here he recalled what Darien told him in his living room so many years ago: “I have learned the dark secrets Dracula has been hiding from his Vampires...”
Just what were these secrets?
He decided now was the best time to ask, if he ever were to find out, after all, he might be dead tomorrow at the hands of her. “Dracula,” he called to the trees above.
The trees stopped swaying as if a breeze had abruptly died and Dracula appeared before him on the ground, his feet not making a sound against the snow. “What is it?”
He halted, staring uncertainly upon the Vampire’s calm demeanor. It seemed quite impossible that Dracula would be a Vampire mired in all his secrets, not desiring to let one slip….
“I must know…” he began.
Dracula raised an eyebrow, his face perfectly blank.
“I must know if you are...keeping secrets from me – from others.”
A slow smile formed on Dracula’s lips, much to his surprise. “Of course. You did not think I would tell you all everything, did you? There are things you all don’t need to know.”
“Even if—”
“Even if you are to be King.”
Xavier stared at him, wondering how he could go on following the Vampire’s word if he would not tell him anything. “Why won’t you tell me?”
Dracula shifted his footing, casting a look to the dark skies above. “We must hurry. The Heads of Creatures from all around the World are heading there.” He glanced back toward him. “I imagine we’d want the best seats.
He growled impatiently. “Dracula—”
But the Vampire had already closed his eyes and disappeared from view, leaving him standing alone in the cold dark wood.
Dracula was several feet ahead of him, and the sun peeked through the treetops; he grimaced. Eleanor would come to him today, and he hoped she was not able to follow. He hoped that the protection of this place would halt her progress to him and she would cease her pursuit.
But she wouldn’t. She would probably attack the other Vampires…once her friends, her comrades, all because she didn’t have him. The notion seemed rather selfish, and Xavier wondered if what Eleanor was doing was really for the benefit of all Creatures. She seemed to be doing much more harm than good.
The hurried sound of several footsteps before him brought him back to the here and now, and he picked his head up.
Dracula disappeared behind a large tree, a new voice reaching him against the morning: “My King, it is an honor. My men and I have prepared a trail up to the palace—”
When Xavier rounded the tree, the voice stopped abruptly, and many new voices started chatting excitedly at the sight of him. Dracula turned to where it was the Creatures looked and extended a hand, beckoning him forward.
He glanced around at the Centaurs that watched him fiercely, their wild orange eyes shining. What he deemed to be the Head Centaur, Vimic, stepped forward and bowed low, his front legs getting lost in the snowy ground. Xavier stepped next to Dracula and stared down at the long black hair of the Centaur. “Is this...really necessary?”
Many of the Centaurs behind Vimic laughed, but Vimic stood, lifting a tan hand through the falling snow, and they fell silent immediately. The Centaur’s eyes were black, quite different from the others and their orange gazes. “It is most necessary, Xavier,” Vimic said, casting a curious glance to Dracula.
The Great Vampire’s eyes gleamed with knowing, and in that stare, Xavier saw a command. Indeed, Vimic seemed in quite a hurry to reach the palace, and he turned, his long black tail brushing against Xavier’s chest. The Centaurs followed Vimic’s hooves, pummeling the ground. They moved with grace and power, yet several Centaurs remained where they stood, staring at him as if they had never seen a Creature like him before. Dracula growled threateningly then, sending them following the trail of trampled snow behind Vimic and the rest.
Xavier was prepared to ask Dracula why Centaurs were their escort to the Council of Creatures, but he seemed quite content on avoiding questions: He was gone from sight before Xavier could get a word across. Sighing, he followed suit.
They reappeared several miles from a large manor that seemed abandoned in the middle of what Xavier thought was nowhere. Two Centaurs left the pack and flanked the sides of the large doors, their dark hair flapping wildly with the wind. Vimic waved a strong arm to the other Centaurs and said, “Disperse.” Without a second thought, the other Centaurs rode off in opposite directions, their wild hair blowing violently in between the drops of snow.
Vimic turned his gaze to Dracula. “Welcome back to the Council, your Majesty,” and he stepped aside, away from the large doors that were creaking open.
Much to Xavier’s surprise, the Vampire who opened the doors at Cinderhall Manor stood here as well, a sly grin spreading across his face and even through the cold, Xavier could make out the strange glint in his golden eyes. He wore a long black robe that fell onto the black tiled floor of the manor and swept out two long arms. “My Lord,” he addressed Dracula, before turning to Xavier, seeming to hesitate on his words before saying, “My...Lord.”
Dracula, not paying any attention to this, strode forward, passing through the doorway, nodding curtly to the red-haired Vampire. “You beat us here Nathanial, when did you leave the Manor?”
“Just a little before dawn. Decided I’d beat the rush,” he said with a grin.
“Hm,” was all Dracula said, stepping away from them, heading deeper into the manor.
Xavier hesitated and Nathanial noticed this. “Come in, Xavier.”
He obeyed, stepping into the manor, Dracula’s long robe quite a distance down the long hallway that seemed to stretch throughout the length of the place.
“…should be a day to remember, once the meeting’s over with,” Nathanial was saying to Vimic, who gazed into the building with fierce eyes.
“A day to remember indeed,” Vimic agreed, casting an interested look to Xavier.
A cold wind blew past Nathanial, ushering snow through the doors, and Nathanial prepared to close them, nodding to the Centaur who reciprocated the acknowledgement curtly.
Nathanial waved his hands and the doors closed, Vimic instantly gone from view as the long hall was swept into darkness. He turned back to Nathanial to greet the golden eyes that peered at him, curious.
“Xavier,” he said after a few moments of silence, “Dracula has told you—?”
“That I am his choice for King, yes.”
“Well,” Nathanial said, beginning to walk down the hall, “I am not supposed to tell you this but the others are convinced you will hold the title next.”
They walked, passing the dark brick walls upon which were various swords and shields planted decoratively between portraits of other Vampires.
“The others?” he asked.
Nathanial did not turn his gaze to meet Xavier’s, but stared straight ahead, toward an unseen destination. “The Head Creatures. I’ve spoken to Thrall, usually a nasty little Gnome, but he’s seemingly determined you will hold the title with honor. And Wiffle, and Drivor, Peroneous, Axely, Evert, Friandria, Dunley, and Renor, of course. I’m quite sure Dracula has convinced them all, somehow.”
“And who are you to this whole Council?” Xavier asked. He seemed more and more to be a King of some far away country.
Nathanial turned to him then, his eyes placed on Xavier’s, but he did not break stride. “I’m the...Adviser of Affairs here at the Council. Dracula came to me three years ago with the idea to gather others together to hold a meet for our World. Seemed to think we would need it in the coming years. Can’t say he was wrong, of course, what with Eleanor Black flying about…”
The dread grew with the mention of her name, a name he’d forgotten for the few minutes since he’d first laid eyes upon the massive stone manor.
“Where will the meeting be held?” Xavier asked, wanting a distraction from the woman that claimed his mind, his heart.
Nathanial reached a large black door, tattered with age. The worn knob looked as though it didn’t belong within the wood. Xavier wondered how long this place had been there when Nathanial said, “The meeting will be held through there.” He pointed a pale finger to the door on the other side of the hallway. “But you aren’t to see it ‘til we’re ready to begin. Of course, the other Creatures will have to be filed in before you can enter.”
Xavier stared at the larger door across from them, a grand sensation of being terribly small reaching him the longer he stared. Bloody King.
The sound of a knob turning, the click it made when the door opened, brought his attention back to Nathanial. He was entering the room, his black robes swaying as he walked. The room was large, filled with drab black furnishings pushed against the walls: A rickety old rocking chair was placed near a stone wall, its legs so old Xavier wondered how it was still standing, a small bed, placed next to the rocking chair, held black sheets atop it.
There was no source of light, nor was there a window in sight, and Xavier walked deeper into the room, the bookshelves lined with cobwebs; seemingly ancient books, never before touched, graced the shelves.
“This place used to belong to an Enchanter by the name of Carvaca,” Nathanial said. “She’s long since passed away, so we’d thought it be a good idea to use her manor with it being far away from others.”
He turned to him. “And where are the others staying?”
“Where they always have whenever meetings are had, upstairs.”
“Then could I not have a room upstairs?”
“No. All of the rooms are occupied. And as this is only a temporary visit for you, we’ve decided that this was the best room available. And it’s so close to the place where we shall meet...you do understand the convenience this room creates,” the Vampire said.
He stared around the dark, drab room and sighed. “Very well.”
Nathanial smiled, his red hair swaying with his head as he spoke. “We should be ready for you in an hour or so. I will call for you when we are.” He made his way for the old door but stopped midstride and turned to Xavier. “Dracula was right you know, there is something about you. Make no mistake, when the others see it too, they will not hesitate to make you the new King.”
Xavier stared at him, lost for words, but before Nathanial could exit the room, he found them: “Why is a new King necessary? Is Dracula not acting up to standards?”
“Oh, he is,” Nathanial said. “He has his reasons, Xavier. This is something not even I can begin to understand, to just up and give his post to someone else. It is not that he is bored, nor is it that he is not acting up to standards, but this is happening because, believe it or not, he wished for it.”
“Dracula wished for me to be King?”
“He wished for a new King.”
“But why?”
The Vampire smiled. “Because he is Dracula.”
“How can you—?”
“Because I have seen what Dracula does to those that do not agree with his word,” Nathanial said. He could have been explaining the art of horseback riding.
Xavier narrowed his eyes. “What?”
His golden eyes flashed before he opened the door and swept out of the room without another word.
It seemed he’d only just entered the dark room when the door swung open again and Nathanial appeared. “We are ready for you, Delacroix,” he said, his golden eyes harder than before.
Xavier stood from the uncomfortable bed and grabbed the Ascalon, placing it around his waist, before striding through the door, grabbing his traveling cloak from atop the old bookshelf. Nathanial had turned to the large doorway on the other side of the hallway, a lot of noise issuing from within.
Xavier glanced toward the red-haired Vampire, but Nathanial paid him no mind. He moved toward the large doorway, and Xavier, gripping the handle of the Ascalon, followed suit.
Once he was over the threshold, all boiling dread and rising fear diffused into the thick air. Many voices converged, creating the oddest barrage of noise Xavier had ever heard: the many, many, Creatures placed about the extremely large room were chatting loudly amongst themselves. The seats rose all around the room, almost reaching the handsome ceiling, and it was here Xavier wondered how the bald, fat heads of the Goblins and Gnomes did not grace the top.
It seemed some sort of magic held up the cascading rows of benches, for there was a space in between one bench from the next. Below the Goblins and Gnomes—who, graciously, were not wearing their dirty, stained pointed hats, out of respect, perhaps—sat the many short, fat, Orcs, who held their strong small fists against their small, bare, dark-green thighs. Their beady eyes scanned the room maliciously. It seemed they wished they did not have to be there with other Creatures, but as far as Xavier was concerned, the Orcs were just as excited as the other Creatures—in their very own special
way.
His gaze traveled to the bench below the Orcs, where the Fae sat, their gentle features quite a contrast from the Orcs above. They whispered to each other, no doubt knowing what the outcome of the meeting would be.
Enchanters sat beneath the Fae, and his eyes lingered there most of all: He had never seen so many in one place. They wore long gowns made of unidentifiable fabric, a mixture of men and woman, their eyes all a misty black, much different from the color that existed within the Enchanters’ eyes back at the bar. They were not speaking to each other as the other Creatures were; they were all very stoic and stone-faced, perhaps rather uncomfortable at the fact that Vampires sat several benches below. Below them were the Satyrs, their black eyes searching the large room with ill-held impatience. Some even turned to their horned brothers and talked in loud, screeching wails, their black tongues long, rolling out of their mouths.
Below the Satyrs was what seemed to be a completely empty bench, until Xavier caught the gold glint of a Fairy, then the blue light of the Pixie beside it. As his eyes grew accustomed to the size of the Creatures, he noticed the whole row seemed to dance in an odd barrage of gold and blue light, annoying the Satyrs above. The Vampires on the last bench, however, seemed undisturbed by the bright light of the Creatures above. Their stares were placed all about the room, and some even glanced anxiously toward the hovering podium in the middle of the room, centered right in between the curving rows of benches.
Another door on the other side of the vast room opened, and all of the Creatures fell into silence. Their unique eyes followed a line of Creatures that filed into the room, one after the other, Dracula in the lead.
Xavier watched the Great Vampire step up to the podium, and clasped the sides, his hands blending with the white marble on its sides.
When Dracula finally opened his mouth, many Vampires’ eyes flashed in admiration.
“Welcome, Creatures of the Dark World, to the Council of Creatures. Indeed, I am not sure if we’ve ever had such a large gathering here before, but we are determined to go along, business as usual. Interruptions are not to be had.” He spared a warning glance to the Vampires along the bench.
They turned their eyes away from his gaze and found the hands in their laps a much more interesting sight.
Dracula then scanned the room. “We are here, as all of you know, to discuss my choice for the next King of All Creatures. A title I have held—officially —for over one thousand years.” With his words, excited chatter filled the room. The Satyr’s black tongues were visible in their mouths and the screeching stood out from the others’ deep speech.
Dracula raised a hand to regain control of the room, and when he’d had it, Xavier realized the other Creatures who had filed in behind Dracula still stood behind him. There was a thoughtful-looking Vampire, a short Gnome who Xavier guessed was Thrall, a tall dark-skinned man who wore the same robes the other Enchanters did, a short, hunching Goblin who stood only three feet in height next to the dark man, and a Centaur whose hair was black, eyes dark. They all kept their hands clasped in front of them, watching Dracula as he spoke.
“…and I am most honored to present, Xavier Delacroix.”
A hush swept over the crowd, and they craned their necks to watch Xavier.
He shifted under the weight of their gazes, making it a point to watch only the Vampire before him. He walked to the center of the room, a hand tight around the Ascalon’s handle. It seemed an eternity before he reached it, endless thoughts of Dracula’s secrets, his lies, his rules, filling his mind as he neared, but when he reached him, he could only stare blankly while Dracula said:
“Xavier. You stand before the Council of Creatures, before me, before representatives of all the Creatures of the Dark World. We are here to witness...your initiation as King of All Creatures.”
A loud bloom of applause erupted through the room and he fought to keep his eyes on Dracula only and said, “Do the other Members of the Council not have to agree to my initiation?”
The room grew silent with his words and Xavier felt everyone’s eyes on the Vampire before him.
“They have already decided,” Dracula responded coldly.
“But do we not need to witness their vote?” an old Enchanter said from her bench.
Dracula stared at her. “We can, but I see no point. We have all elaborated on this matter for far too long, I know what their answers are—”
“But we do not!” This time it was a Vampire who spoke up.
“Yes! Yes! Let us hear their answers for ourselves!” the other Creatures began to yell.
Dracula sighed. “Very well.” He stepped down from the floating podium, turning to the line of Creatures behind him, a hand sweeping through the air, gesturing toward a Vampire near the start of the line.
She stepped forward, her red hair resting down her back, the black sleeveless dress quite revealing, and Xavier wondered if she were related to Nathanial, for even her golden eyes were the same. As her hands pressed against the marble of the stand, Xavier forgot about the red-haired Vampire that was Dracula’s Advisor: “Speaking on behalf of the Vampire Wing, I, Friandria Vivery, place my vote for Xavier Delacroix to be King of All Creatures.”
The crowd roared their approval, and she stepped down, Dracula lifting a hand to silence them before the Goblin stepped up to the podium. An Enchanter waved her hands, lifting him high enough to see over it. He eyed her with thankful, beady black eyes and addressed the crowd: “On behalf of the Goblins—” this met with a rowdy cheer from the top of the benches “—of Edinwire, I, Dunley Dirte, place my vote for Xavier Delacroix to be King of us all.” Less enthusiastic applause met Dunley’s statement.
The dark Enchanter took his place, and he addressed the crowd, his voice deep, his brown eyes piercing, “On behalf of the Enchanter’s Guild, I, Peroneus Doe, place my vote for Xavier Delacroix to be the next King of All Creatures.” The applause was more than polite this time around and fewer jeers could to be heard.
The Gnome stepped up and several Enchanters shifted in their seats: It seemed he was waiting for one of them to help him see over it. When it was clear no one would, he pointed to one of the Vampires with a stubby finger and commanded, “Assist me.”
The Vampire he’d singled out did not look pleased, but his dark eyes shined, and the Gnome rose, hitting the ceiling. All eyes followed as he fell through the air, landing atop the podium with a painful crash. Cackles of laughter sounded throughout the room. The Vampire received appreciative pats on the back. As the Gnome rose to his feet, he looked quite prepared to scream any number of profanities the Vampire’s way, but Dracula cleared his throat and the small Creature addressed the crowd instead.
“I, Thrall Quillington, on behalf of the Mountain Gnomes deep within the valleys of Dunderhurst—”
“Get on with it Thrall,” an impatient Vampire snarled.
Thrall looked displeased, but cleared his throat, and said, “I place my vote for Xavier Delacroix to be King of All Creatures.” He hopped down from the podium, casting a final, threatening glance to the Vampire who had “helped” him.
Lastly, the Centaur stepped forward, all eyes on him as he opened his mouth to speak—
A loud boom shook the ground and the air somewhere close to the castle, and Xavier moved a hand to the Ascalon. Sounds of panic and surprise left the Creatures on their benches. And before anyone could do anything at all, footsteps echoed down the hallway into the large hall.
Before long, three Vampires filled the doorway, looking both scared and exhausted. “They have...they have Wiffle Citador!” one of them gasped.
Dracula narrowed his eyes as he stepped forward. “Renor, what are you saying?”
“The figures in black. The figures in black! We were arriving here, Wiffle, Drivor, Axely, and I when we came upon them! Horrible Creatures!” Renor gasped, and fell to the floor, dead.
“Close the doors and windows, round up the Creatures who have their weapons and skills about them!” Dracula yelled, not sparing a glance to the corpse.
Everyone left their benches and scrambled to leave the large room despite Dracula’s words. Xavier watched as they tried to squeeze through the wide doorway all at once, trampling the newcomers’ bodies underfoot.
When he and Dracula were finally alone, he turned to him, but the Vampire was already saying, “You are to stay by my side,” and there was a definitive way he said this that made Xavier’s blood boil with apprehension.
Eleanor is here, he thought quickly, hand still clutched tightly to the sword, and she was indeed killing all who stood in her way.
Dracula moved, clutching the hilt of the sword at his waist, toward the limp bodies of Axely and Drivor that lay in the doorway. He pulled the doors closed.
“There has never been death at the Council before,” Dracula whispered, “this shall stain these protected walls, surely.”
Wanting to know what just he meant, Xavier watched the troubled Vampire eye the large windows surrounding them. He had just opened his mouth to say something when a figure appeared in one of arching windows, Dracula’s brown eyes widening. “Michael?”
The figure named Michael—draped in a billowing dark cloak—hovered in the window, his grin increasing with his stare.
With a deep sigh Xavier realized they were trapped in the large room, their only exits blocked off, for he was sure there were many more Creatures outside the doors: He could hear the sound of raucous battle issuing throughout the long hallway.
“Michael,” Dracula repeated, this time surer in his conviction. He left the tiled floor and flew toward the window as a blast blew him back, the glass flying around the room, carrying Dracula with it. Xavier was at his side in the next moment, a bracing hand tapping the Vampire’s cheek, for his eyes were closed. “Are you all right?” he asked the Great Vampire hurriedly.
The Creature in the window called to others out of view, snow flying into the large room: “They’re in here! Trapped themselves in like the fools they are—”
Dracula left the floor and was in the air again, although he did nothing more than hover, staring at the Creature in the window, and Xavier saw a tense hand move to the sword at his waist.
The Creature entered the room with Dracula’s bravado, a smug grin across his boyish face. “Well, if it isn’t my old mentor, my old King. I see that you have not learned to trust the powers you were given.”
Dracula snarled, anger filling his brown eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“You know bloody well what I’m talking about! Eleanor has told us, has shown us what we have been missing from our lives. Something you have never done for us. You, who have lied to us for all these years.”
“I have not lied to you!” And with that, a massive burst of air from the hovering Vampire sent him barreling backwards against the ground. When Xavier dropped his arm from his eyes, Dracula’s gaze was red, his white hair billowing up from his back, spreading around him in his anger.
What is going on? Xavier thought, never knowing the Vampire to show this much anger, this much power....
“Then what were they, Dracula, if not lies?” Michael growled, his grin disappearing.
“I was protecting you, saving you from becoming what you are now!”
“A likely story!” Michael screamed, his own handsome features distorting with anger. “Eleanor has given us new life. She protects us by making us what we are! And you, you have done nothing but guard your book, that damned sword, not giving us what we needed. Not giving us what we need to live.”
Dracula seemed shocked by these words: his eyes were wide and his mouth opened, as though he could not find the words to respond. And he was no sooner recovering when another figure entered through the window, hovering just beside his companion. “Michael,” he said, “where is Eleanor?”
“Is she not on her way?” Michael asked, tearing his gaze from Dracula’s.
He shook his head. “The Vampires are holding her back, surprisingly enough,” he said.
“Interesting,” Michael said, but his voice did not seem interested at all. “Call for Aciel. He will be pleased to know I have found them.”
“As you please,” the man said before disappearing.
Dracula’s hand clenched the hilt of his sword, and it seemed Michael took notice of this: his eyes caught the red gem centered in the guard and they narrowed in disbelief. “You’ve killed someone, haven’t you?”
“I fail to see how that is any of your business, Michael. You will tell me why you are here—with Eleanor Black of all Creatures!”
“And why should I?” Michael screamed. “You killing another Creature is very much my business—all of our business—it only proves what Eleanor Black has been trying to tell the whole Dark World: you are twisted – corrupt in your ways!”
Dracula snarled and shot toward Michael. The Elite Creature had only a moment’s notice to dart out of the way before Dracula appeared where he last stood, eyes wide with his rage.
“Is it I who is twisted?” he roared, and Xavier could not help but notice the weird gleam in his eyes—he stared at Michael with a delirious air. “You know nothing! Nothing of what I have done!”
“I know you have killed! She told us! She told us what happens when that gem changes color!” the Creature retorted, looking quite apprehensive.
Xavier watched as Dracula’s hand tightened around the handle of the sword. “You know nothing! Whatever Eleanor told you—”
“Is truth!”
A burst of cold air filled the room and Dracula was zooming toward the Elite Creature, sword held out in front of him, prepared to strike—
Michael waved a brazen hand and plume of black smoke left his fingers, forming a wall in front of him, and when Dracula’s sword reached it, a spark of blue light appeared and Dracula was blown back against the cold air. Xavier moved to catch him, but he never did fall.
Dracula caught his balance in midair looking prepared to strike once more, but decided against it: his red eyes darkened, and the sword lowered in his hand. There was a tangible moment of silence as Dracula and Michael stared at one another through the black smoke wall, then Dracula let out a long sigh, as though the weight of the centuries was falling down around him.
“You will not understand this, Michael,” he said, breathlessly. “Even if I do explain everything I have done for this World, you will not understand. She has reached you first.”
Michael waved another hand and the wall disappeared, and he stared upon Dracula as though expecting him to attack again. “Make me understand it, Dracula,” he said, as though scared he’d never hear the words from the old Vampire’s lips.
The sword was raised in the Great Vampire’s hand and his eyes lingered on the red gem, how it seemed to shine with a strange light from within...but then Xavier could see the red eyes reflected within it and he turned his attention to Dracula, himself.
The Vampire was weathered, and tired, so much so that Xavier was surprised he’d never allowed himself to see it before. Something weighed him down, and it did not take Xavier long to guess that it was the secrets now threatened to be revealed by this Elite Creature. Would Dracula finally disclose all he’d kept hidden?
“I have killed,” Dracula said at last, the sword not lowering. “My last kill with this sword being my Goldchair, Armand Dragon—”
“What?” Xavier said. “You killed Armand?”
Dracula was before him in the next second, sword still in hand, his back to the Elite Creature in the air, a look of terrified realization in his red eyes. “There was a reason, Xavier—”
“Of course there was a reason!” Michael interjected. “You simply wished to keep him from your secrets, didn’t you? Couldn’t stand for him to know the truth, could you?”
At this, Dracula let out a loud snarl and whirled, the sword swinging wildly in his grip: Xavier moved to avoid getting sliced. “As I remember it, you lived through my word, you were suckling at the teat that is my power, you were in reverence to my every move, my every action—”
“I was deceived!” Michael said shrewdly before the Vampire could finish. “After discovering what you truly hold, I can only say that your words, your actions, are nothing but stains of blood on the floor of deception!”
“Ha!” Dracula was moving toward him now, the sword trembling in his grip. “You speak as if you have lived through it all! You know nothing – nothing of what I must do—have done for this World!”
“And so you say! But we know all you do is trick and coerce—” Michael’s gaze found Xavier at last, and a look of realization crept over his face. “Your new pet, I presume? This must be the Delacroix Eleanor won’t shut up about. What is he to you, Dracula? Yet another pawn in this game you play with our lives?”
And instead of retaliating, Dracula turned to watch Xavier, his red eyes filled with what looked to be a terrible sadness, yet Xavier did not understand it. He’d never known the Vampire to show anything but perfect coldness.
“Xavier,” Dracula whispered, “surely you understand: you are a necessary tool. To have you as the new King would assure that my secrets—our secrets—remain safe within our bond, the veil of blood. You must understand why I have done what I have – why I have kept you safe, free from harm for all these years—”
“And he plans to leave you as soon as you were crowned. Not in the know of the Great Artifacts left over by the Ancients to flourish in our newly-created World,” Michael finished.
Xavier stared, unsure of what was happening, or what he should be feeling, and even as he stared at the Great Vampire, he could not find it in himself to believe what Dracula had just whispered.
Necessary tool...
“You think me nothing but a tool?” he asked. “Something to be cast aside while you kill Vampires who find out about your secrets? Everything they said, everything they told me, was it all true?”
Dracula swept toward him. “You do not understand…I needed you, and I still do. You can be King. Do not let this deter you from our years of friendship. I have watched over you like a father—” And with the whisper of this last word, Xavier’s hand squeezed the handle of the Ascalon tight.
How dare he? How dare he use that word knowing what it held for me?
Pulling the Ascalon from its sheath, he stared at the exasperated Vampire before him, not sure if he should move to strike him. The shadow of doubt that had been marring his trust and faith in the Great Vampire thickened as he stared at Dracula, unable to believe what was happening. What did it all really mean?
Several figures flew into the open window, creating a large wind that blew the hair and cloaks of all the Creatures within the room, and Xavier tensed. They landed in unison just in front of Michael. He stared at them, Dracula turning to eye the newcomers as well, his own sword rising in his hand.
One Creature stepped forward, despite Dracula’s tension, toward Xavier, and with a slender hand, removed the hood from atop her head.
Xavier almost lost his grip on his sword.
“My love,” she crooned.
“Eleanor,” he breathed, taking a step from her. The feeling of dread was not to be found, but instead a serene feeling of incomprehensible power left her being.
“You have come to a decision?” she asked.
It was as if Dracula was not even there.
Xavier held the sword awkwardly, not knowing what to do with it in his hand. If he said “No,” she would most likely kill him before he could move, but if he said “Yes,” then there was no need for the weapon... But Dracula, what he’d just said....
“I... Eleanor, I am not sure.”
She did not seem upset, quite the contrary: she smiled. “I had hoped after seeing Dracula’s display of treachery to you and other Vampires that you would embrace me with open arms.”
He stared from Dracula to Michael and back. “That was staged?”
“Staged? Oh, heavens no. Michael was sent to look for you because I knew Dracula would keep you close. Dracula and Michael go way back, farther than anyone I know. They would speak, and as it has been shown, panic and fear,” she looked at Dracula in disgust, “ultimately ends in the abandonment of original plans, the chaotic reevaluation of events, the speaking of secret plans...it would all come into fruition. And it has.”
He marveled at her words. The truth they held could not be denied.
Dracula then let out a sound, something of a whimper, and Eleanor snarled. “There is no need for you anymore,” she whispered, snapping her fingers.
Michael began to transform.
It was the oddest thing Xavier had ever witnessed. All surrounding newcomers moved from him at once, and now clearly seen, Michael’s long face stretched even longer outwards as the long snout formed. His black nose came into view next and the rows and rows of fangs protruded from his mouth, enlarging by the minute. His skin was ripped from his body and, as his cloak was shed, ruffles of brown, shaggy hair graced his body. His feet had grown out of the boots they once occupied, and now large paws took their place. He was tall, but hunched over, his black beady eyes glaring hungrily at Dracula.
And then he charged. In a blink, he moved from his position to Dracula’s.
Dracula did not bother to move, or perhaps it was that he could not. But Eleanor’s ever-changing eyes had changed to one color—a deep dark red—and Xavier assumed she was placing a spell on Dracula to keep him from moving.
Xavier hesitated. Could he really allow Dracula to pay for what he had done to him? To the Vampires? To Victor?
“Eleanor wait.” And Eleanor’s gaze broke from Dracula’s, the Lycan’s large head turning to face him.
“What is it, Xavier?” Eleanor said, flustered by his words, her brow furrowed in concern.
“Must he die so cruelly?”
“Pity, Xavier? I never thought it of you.” A few guffaws leaving the cloaked figures behind her.
She turned to them, silencing them with her eyes.
“Do I not deserve to know the secrets he has been hiding from me?” Xavier asked, stalling for time.
Eleanor whirled to face him, and she seemed to consider his words before saying, “That you do.”
A cloaked figure with the others stirred and the raspy voice protruded from beneath the dark hood, “You will tell him when he is not yet one of us?”
“I will tell him now, yes. Think about it, Jasper, once he is one of us—” her eyes brightened with admiration at the thought “—would it not be best for him to already have an understanding of the life he shall lead with me?”
The one Eleanor called Jasper fell silent, her words seemingly satisfying enough.
“You are not a normal Vampire, my love,” Eleanor said to Xavier, “your blood runs thick with the pureness of the Ancient Ones.”
Dracula spoke at last, his eyes fierce with anger: “Don’t—!”
“You would rather tell him the story yourself?” she asked him.
Dracula appeared flustered. “I would rather,” he gritted through clenched teeth, “tell him when he is ready.”
“I am afraid you shall not be alive to do so,” Eleanor said. “You will die in this very room today; your reign of secrets shall cease.”
“My reign of protection and comfort, you mean,” he corrected her. “It is you, Eleanor, who has been terrorizing my Creatures! It is you who have killed my Creatures!”
“Silence!” Eleanor yelled. “You know not of what it is you speak! I have killed no Creature of yours! These Creatures—” she raised arms to signal the outside of the castle walls where the battle was continuing “—are slaves. Slaves to their minds – slaves because of you! Their power, although great, is not as excellent as it should be. I have taken what you have hidden from them and used it! Is it my fault that they cannot handle the presence of my men? No! It is yours, Dracula.”
The door flew open, and Nathanial, Peroneous, and Friandria stood there, their clothes bloodstained, their breaths short and quick. Nathanial, eyeing Eleanor and the Lycan that towered over Dracula hungrily, gasped. Friandria glowered at Eleanor, and Peroneous kept his gaze on Xavier.
Eleanor, Xavier, and Dracula watched the newcomers with puzzled eyes and no one dared speak.
It wasn’t until Eleanor let out a small chuckle did anyone finally breathe. “Lovely. We’ve more guests. Come, let them in, they need to hear this as well.”