The Vampire & Her Witch

”Let me teach you what the Fangs of Death does to men like you.”

With a flick of an elongated fingernail, Nyrielle spilled a drop of blood from the tip of a finger before flicking the drop of blood across the room where it sailed toward one of Hamdi’s many open wounds.

”Blood Curse: Lethargy,” Nyrielle intoned, filling the drop of blood with a swirl of dark crimson energy just before it spattered against the wound on Hamdi’s chest. Instantly, the rich, bloody energy burrowed into his flesh like maggots, drilling into his mussels and leeching strength from his limbs.

Hamdi’s knees buckled and he slammed the point of his heavy-bladed sword into the floor, piercing through the thick rug beneath his feet and sinking more than three inches into the stone beneath it before his blade bound and he leaned on it like a cane, holding himself up with what little strength remained in his body as he struggled to resist Nyrielle’s insidious curse.

”This will not hold him for long,” Nyrielle’s voice whispered, seeming to come from a place only inches from Ignatious’s ear. ”He’s too old to be easily overcome by myself. I need your help, Ignatious. I need your Holy Flames to weaken him for me when he breaks free of this curse. Can you do it?”

”Mistress, I,” Ignatious started only for the words to catch in his throat. Holy Flames? Against Hamdi? Did she think he’d never tried before? He’d never get the chance to finish an invocation! The instant he started, Hamdi would rain down a storm of flesh-rending silvery light that made his currently diminished flames look like candlelight before the light of the full moon.

”I will distract him,” Nyrielle’s voice came again. ”But I cannot defeat him without your help,” she said.

On the far side of the sitting room, standing among the burning books and dark smoke, Hamdi roared in pain and triumph as he wrenched his sword from the stone floor. With a shake of his left hand, a drop of dark, cursed blood sailed into the flames, sizzling as the heat of the fire burned away every trace of the toxic drop of Nyrielle’s blood and the dark magic it carried.

”You think you’re the only one to learn a few tricks from their Eternities?” He sneered. Holding his left arm out in front of his chest, parallel to the ground, the ancient vampire sliced deeply into his own arm with his sword, making a fist and spilling three drops of blood onto the singed carpet beneath his feet.

”Blood Pledge: Strength of the Pack!”

As the Fangs of Death, Shubnalu knew a great deal about tearing the lifeblood from the bodies of the strongest people to walk the face of the earth. His Blood Curses were notoriously vicious, capable of felling High Lords and even Great Lords if he chose. Bardas, however, relied on the strength of his followers to tear down entire groups that threatened to tip the balance and dominate the world.

But just because Bardas relied on the strength of many to overpower even larger groups didn’t mean he was never confronted with powerful leaders who stood atop seemingly invincible armies. In cases like those, he summoned the strength of his progeny to give himself an overwhelming edge against his opponents.

Now, Hamdi used the same invocation to summon the strength of his progeny, filling his body with renewed stamina, power and more than anything else, the bloodlust of much younger vampires who had yet to lose as much to the millstone of time as their sire had.

”When I deliver you to His Eternity Shubnalu, don’t say I never gave you a chance to go the easy way,” Hamdi snarled before leaping at Nyrielle with twice the speed he’d possessed just minutes ago.

Nyrielle said nothing in response, meeting the ancient Vampire’s charge directly with a powerful swing of her ax. The stone floor beneath their feet trembled and cracked with the force of the impact as both vampires drove themselves past their previous limits.

The battle between them had become so heated that Hamdi had forgotten about avenging Skoll and had almost completely disregarded Ignatious. No matter what he had done, it was impossible to move around Nyrielle to kill her progeny, even if the wretched human was to weak to offer any resistance.

Since he couldn’t slip past her to do the deed, he could only batter her down until she had no choice but to watch as he took his time demonstrating how futile her efforts to protect her progeny were. First with Ignatious and then with her handmaiden, Zedya.

Strengthened by his bond with his progeny and his Blood Pledge, the ancient vampire used his enhanced strength to batter Nyrielle’s ax aside again and again. Each time, the tip of his sword slid inside her guard immediately after the beat, piercing deep into her arms, slicing along her ribs or forcing her to fall back to avoid a more serious blow to her head or chest.

From his chair, Ignatious watched helplessly as Nyrielle gave ground again and again. She had been right. For all that she was the mighty Harbinger of Death, there was still too much of a difference between her and a vampire more than twice her age who could draw upon the complete strength of his progeny, even when some of them were hundreds of leagues away.

Nyrielle was alone. Even Zedya seemed unable to reach her to offer any support. Given the trembling of the tower and the deafening sounds of combat, even Ignatious had enough presence of mind to realize that someone must be interfering with Zedya’s ability to come to their Mistress’s aid.

This meant that while Hamdi could draw on the strength of his progeny, the only person Nyrielle could rely on... was him.

”Oh Holy Lord of Light,” Ignatious said as he slipped from the chair at last, falling to his knees amidst the burning rubble. This smoke crawled along the ceiling and flames drew ever closer to his place in an island of calm at the center of the destruction but he ignored both as he lowered his head in prayer for the first time in... in he’d forgotten how many years.

”In my darkest days, in that man’s claws I prayed many times that you would send one of your champions to end my suffering,” he said. ”I prayed even more that you would reclaim my soul, giving me the strength to bathe in the light of day and return to your embrace.”

”Now, I will not ask you for help, or for strength,” he whispered, clasping his hands tightly together. ”I have seen the strength it takes to meet my struggle and only in seeing her take a stand have I realized that I was wrong to turn to you for the strength I lacked. Now, I only ask that you bear witness.”

”If I die today, let it be because, at least this once, I worked to meet a greater struggle than I have ever known. Not for you or for my own misguided desire for glory, but because she showed me the way, and I choose to follow.”

Bowing his head low, Ignatious flung his arms out wide, stretching out with senses long unused to feel the flames around him. Their flickering light danced across his red and gold robes and their heat caressed his skin like a long lost lover as he began to speak, calling out to the power in the room in a rich, steady tone.

”Sacred flames that dance and play,

Hear your faithful servant pray.

Through years of pain I kept my faith,

Now gather and form my vengeful wraith.”

All around the room, whether the flames were large or small, they leaped from the pages of charred books, the broken limbs of shattered furniture and the tattered remains of carpets and tapestries, floating through the air like embers on the wind as they coalesced before the kneeling man, taking on the shape of a ghostly Inquisitor formed of solid flames.

”Years of anguish end tonight,

As justice burns with holy light.

For every wound that marked my soul,

Now let my flames extract their toll.

Your darkness dies in sacred light,

As vengeance burns with holy might.”

”Mistress,” he shouted as his flaming wraith swelled to nearly twice his size as he fed it with all of his anger, his hatred, and his pain after years of suffering under Hamdi’s cruelty. ”Get out of the way!”

For several minutes, Nyrielle had gradually lost ground to Hamdi. Blood flowed down her alabaster skin from countless wounds and her dark dress clung to her body in blood soaked tatters. Yet all this time, she’d never once lost sight of Ignatious as he struggled to break free of the shackles that bound his soul in a world filled with torment inflicted by the ancient vampire.

Now, seeing his flaming wraith take shape, Nyrielle abandoned the pretense of fighting with her mentor’s methods and let loose with power that belonged to the Harbinger of Death alone.

”Kiss of the Void: Acceptance of Fate,” she said in a voice that seemed to echo from the depths of a dark abyss. For a moment, the light in the room dimmed and Nryielle exploited the resulting moment of hesitation from Hamdi to melt into shadows, re-emerging from them standing next to the kneeling figure of Ignatious.

The moment she fled, Hamdi rounded on her, a mocking retort already forming on his lips until he saw the wraith of holy flame descending on him while a dark shadow fell across his mind. Suddenly, it was if a thousand years had passed in an instant, wearing away his will to resist, his will to fight back, his will to escape the burning wraith of vengeance that had come to bestow retribution on him.

Shrouded in the magic of the Harbinger of Death and facing Ignatious’s flaming wraith, the only thing he could do... was to stand there numbly, and accept his fate.