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The Righteous Will - Part 2
The great throne stood like a beast’s skeleton, its base glittering with huge, dark gems that seemed like the eyes of some subterranean creature. Enormous braziers burned with hungry flames, casting long, reaching shadows from the seat of power. Upon it sat a regal figure, his deep red cape folded over one shoulder, spilling over the throne’s armrest and slipping to the floor. One hand held a glass filled with something dark, almost mistakable for wine, and the other lay on the armrest, long fingers tapping the fabric. White-blue eyes shown from a heavy brow, thick lips pursed tightly, silver and black hair combed back perfectly. His vampiric guards stood dressed in their red and black armor, as his guest was escorted in by an equally impressive entourage.
“Vanaman,” said the prim vampire lord. “Welcome.”
The two words could not have been more flat, empty or cold. Even among other vampires, Vanaman was not welcome. His hair writhed in a tangled mess, his clothes were a disheveled mockery of courtly attire. Old blood stained his lips, chin and throat, and coagulated on his chest. His odor was foul. In extreme keeping with Minosian philosophy, he did not cover his animalistic hunger for human blood with pretenses of honor or religion. He grinned, black teeth congealing with a dark, dipping substance.
“Lord Osiris,” he began with his melodramatic flair, drawing out the first syllable to grand announcement. “Fine councilor of Hereot! Friend of Acheron, ally of Minos Methra!”
“Enough, Vanaman. This is not your blasted Arena. Tell me why you’ve come.”
“Very well, my lord,” said Vanaman with an exaggerated bow. He made a flourishing gesture with his hand, and two vampires came forward wielding a wooden box. “This is a gift from Elder Minos himself. Within this chest is a most valuable item which will assist you, no doubt, in your . . . ambitions.”
Lord Osiris stood, his commanding presence growing with his height, and he gestured for the vampires to stop and set down the box. “Open it.”
Within lay a scimitar, its edge glowing crisply with a powerful enchantment. “What is it?”
Vanaman’s wicked grin was especially revolting. “Useful for defeating human rebels, of course. It dispels magics of protection.”
“I have no need for your master’s trinkets,” scoffed Osiris, his expression derisive, though his eyes never left the blade.
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Atnos Kree walked defiantly through the darkened streets of Elysia, hood thrown back, eyes fixed ahead and scowl deep. Even here, where laws made humans almost equal to vampires, such bravado could beckon punishment, but he didn’t care. He would lower his eyes for no one, man or vampire, Elysian laws or Acheronian chaos, it mattered not.
The sound of a panicked woman’s voice drew his attention. He was going to ignore it until he heard her insistent plea for help, and two deep, male voices chuckling darkly. Grumbling, the big man turned down the alleyway. His eyes were sharp for a human, so he could see two young vampires playing catch with a woman, as it were, pushing her back and forth between them roughly. He approached quietly, and went unnoticed in their sadistic mirth until he picked one up by the scruff of the neck. His big arm rippled with amazing strength as he used the vampire as a shield for the other’s sloppy punch. He tossed the one in hand into the other, and they both tumbled to the ground.
Snarling, they untangled themselves and turned upon the incredibly strong man. One growled, “That’s a foolish move there, human. Attacking your gods will bring only punishment, never honor.”
“I’m not looking for honor, and you aren’t my gods,” he said nonchalantly. “You’re just a couple of stupid fledglings who can’t control your bloodlust. Elysian law forbids forced bloodletting of any sort. Go home now and I won’t drag you to court myself.”
They laughed, and the other said, “Look, you got a good surprise shot in, and you’re obviously pretty tough. But you can’t take us both on. We’re immortals.”
“Immortal, to a point,” snorted Atnos Kree.
With a simultaneous burst of rage, the two vampires poised to strike. Their eyes began to glow with their inhuman lust, and they lunged forward together, fangs bared.
A searing blast of purple light flashed, physically shoving both fledglings off from Atnos Kree. Surprised, they looked back to see the giant man standing tall, his muscle drawn tight like corded steel and his eyes alight with battle-lust. On his chest glowed the etherstone, sign of his ranking. They swore vengeance, immediately before running away as fast as they could.
Atnos Kree shook his head and started to go on his way when a hand touched his arm. He looked down to see a beautiful woman. Her face was slightly scarred from a bad rash long ago, probably a disease common among the masses of the nation’s human slaves. Still, she was attractive, probably what had drawn the attention of the young immortals in the first place. Human or vampire, men were men, in Kree’s opinion. Her clothes were ripped, but she seemed unhurt.
“Thank you,” she said, eyes moist.
“Don’t be out by yourself. Not a bright move.”
She blushed and nodded. “I know.
He grunted andstarted to walk away, but she pulled on his arm.
“I want to repay you,” she said gently.
Atnoss glanced at her again. “What’s your name?”
“Brinhyld.”
He thought about it, then shrugged. Men were men, he reasoned.
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Sigurd stood in his pew, singing the songs of worship to Valk Hahwra and all his progeny. The beautiful hum of words reflected the vibrating feeling of devotion brimming his heart to full. It was an indescribable feeling, knowing he was serving his purpose, acting precisely how a good man should. He was nearly as powerful as humans could get in the blood-kingdom, but he would have been content as a peasant in Azgild. His heart’s greatest desire was to serve the righteous will of the blood-gods.
Not his only desire, however. Sitting two pews from him was Guthryn, a lovely young vampire who looked his age, though she was doubtlessly far older. During communion he had given blood to her on many occasions, and the feeling of her teeth at his wrist was, for him, better than lovemaking. Of course, he didn’t like pain, but he liked submitting to pain to serve his gods . . . and his goddess. Fondly he traced the scars below his palm.
His master, Dren Methra, had noticed his infatuation quickly.
“It is forbidden, you know,” chided the elder often. Of course, he was only teasing. The vampire master did not suspect Sigurd of such treason, nor did the human wish to engage in such disobedience. His only hope was that the elder would eventually reward him with a Turning (a high and rare honor in the blood-kingdom), and that by then she was still solitary. Even then, though, he knew his chances were small because turned vampires could not have children, and little was more important to a vampire than that. But it didn’t matter. Whatever happened, Sigurd was happy serving Dren Methra and his line.
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The vampire general was bowing before Tiresias had materialized fully from his mist guise. The wizard told him to straighten, and asked him why he had been summoned.
“My lord, I have news of interest to you, Elder Dren, even the entire nation. I lost over half a dozen vampires, and three times that in human blood, in the last skirmish. This is what made the battle so difficult.”
Tiresias felt a weight grow in his chest as he took the item from the general’s outstretched hand. It was an etherstone, made by a vampire mage. And it did not have the aura of any mage in the blood-kingdom, for Tiresias knew each wizard personally. No, this was a rogue vampire, and from what he could tell a powerful one. Somehow, a human force had managed to rope a rogue wizard to their cause. He had no idea what the tattered resistance had to offer such a powerful ally, someone even the majestic vampire nation could not sway.
“How many humans were wearing these?”
“Eight, Lord Tiresias.”
“Where are their bodis?”
He was lead to a heap of corpses. He checked the ones who carried the etherstones for markings, a pattern of bitemarks given to announce ownership, but he found no such marks at all. That was very unusual. Vampires never created etherstones for humans they had not marked, especially not rogues.
“You’ve done well, general. Tell no one else of this. If more etherstones are brought into battle, inform me at once. Destroy all of the talismans. They are too dangerous to keep around.”
With that, the wizard was gone, riding air currents to speak with his master.
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She had stayed with him since the night in the ally. She only left to visit her master, a relatively kind vampire who had many humans to choose from and hardly missed her presence, and her father. Of course, Brinhyld was not an ambassador, so she could not follow Atnos out of Elysia, but she went with him whenever she could. Kree wasn’t much of a sentimentalist, but he liked her company, though sometimes she grated on his nerves. She wanted children, but Elysian law, as in every city but Gauntra, was that humans could only raise their children in wedlock. Bastards were to be given to the council. So Brinhyld often mentioned, with pretended casualness, friends who just got married or whose babies were just born, just took their first step, just gave their first blood.
She draped her arm around him. “Don’t you want children, Atnos?”
“What for?” he asked dismissively, not really wanting an answer.
“What kind of question is that? Raising children is a great joy. Don’t you want to leave a legacy?”
“Of what, Brinhyld? Of slaves, of cattle for the vampires? It’s a waste of time, energy and emotion.”
“Oh, come on, Atnos. It’s not that bad, the world we live in. There’s a lot to experience, to explore. Our service to the vampires is only a portion of our lives. Don’t you want to hold your baby, see him grow, hear his little laugh?”
Atnos looked at her flirty pout and big eyes, knowing she thought her words meant something to him. It was time to break her of this nonsense. “Look, Brin. I am not with you to settle down. You know why I’m with you, and it’s not to start a family. There will always be a limit to how far children can rise. Don’t you get it? Don’t you see how the vampires tease us with equality, just to get our obedience? They fool you into thinking you can have a family. You’re just a breeder for their livestock. You’re not a woman, you’re capital. Maybe you want to raise children to see them bleed into the mouths of those greedy parasites and delude them with your stories of religion and the beauty of human service to the blood-gods, but I don’t. I won’t put myself through it. I won’t.”
Her eyes glossed over for a moment, her face stilled. He tried to comfort her, but she turned away.
“Brin . . .” Atnos started, “you have to see. . .”
“No. I see. You think you’ve figured them out, you think your swagger and your atheism and your hatred proves something. All you’ve really done is found another way to let them win.” She gathered her things and started to walk away, then looked at him. “You think your world is miserable because of vampires, but it’s not. It’s miserable because of you.”
The door slammed. He thought about going after her, but decided against it. Whatever. It didn’t change anything, not really. He rolled over and tried to sleep.
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Canary word: Present
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
Yes, I do see what you mean by that statement. I suppose the qualifiers were a bit embedded in my own brain. I'll have to do something there.
Yes, Scribe, I understand exactly what you are trying to do, however as this is your intent, you do not need to generalize as you have done:
Even Joe Biden is liked by a great deal of people. Were I in your position, I would qualify this. Explain that some actually do welcome him. Or if they don't qualify that too and tell us why Minos used him as a messenger if that were the case.
I am simply indicating to the reader that Vanaman makes other vampires uncomfortable, but that there's really nothing they can do about it. I don't really see how that limits my credibility. After all, Joe Biden makes people uncomfortable, but he's still the Vice President.
Hey Scribe,
But I also meant her mood swings, and almost teenage angst. She is by no means flimsy, in fact she's quite the contrary, but I also don't believe she's a deep character, but rather an emotional, impulsive woman.I know you don't usually like exposing your characters too fast, but I think that with regard to Vanaman you've slightly compromised your credibility. By credibility I don't mean his credibility as a character, I mean your credibility as a writer because at this stage all that we see is a guy who was seemingly liked by Elder Minos. But you tell us that Minos would not like him. If we see that he's liked but you tell us he isn't, we won't trust your judgment entirely. It is my opinion, but I think you need to give us evidence that Minos did not like him either. Or tell us why Minos chose him to carry the message. Consider what I am saying, I do think it's quite important to the reader who does not know your world like you do.
Also, as far as Brin goes, what I meant by typical woman was as you say:
Great, I can't wait to read the next piece.
Have a great one!
Even if Vanaman is not liked, he is the favorite of one of the scariest vampires around and is himself quite scary. But also, he is the host of the Arena (just what it sounds like), and even vampires who find him repulsive find his Arena entertaining. What I am doing with his strange relationship to other vampires will become less odd, or at least more apparent, later on.
Osiris is, of course, not as simple as he seems, not merely a power-hungry tyrant. This, too, will be more explored.
Rarely do I passively accept criticism, mostly because I put a lot of thought into things, so usually you'll find me, in a friendly, open and discursive way, disagreeing, because discussing disagreements is how writers grow. But yeah, the scene with the vampy hoodlums is kind of lame, and I appreciate you calling me out on that.
I rather like Brin, actually. In a sense, yes, she is like a "typical woman," in her desire for relationship, need for protection, desire for children, etc. But then again, I think these needs are universally human. Indeed, I think her response to Kree is pretty weighty and interesting, and I hardly see her as a flimsy typical woman in anything other than superficialities.
Kree isn't interested in really engaging her in a debate. He doesn't respect her that much. He wants to say his mind and be agreed with or disagreed with silently. He's pretty chauvinistic, if you haven't noticed, and he isn't going to deal with Brin like an equal. So his thoughts are probably about as blank as they're portrayed here, which is essentially, "Oh, shut up, I'm right and you're not." I think I've made that clear enough without adding any more baggage, though I will give it more consideration.
Thank you for your review; I'll be editing that scene with the attackers soon, hopefully, and will have a third installment ready sooner yet. Take care!
Hi Scribe
Now for the review:
On Character: We've met the strong character of Osiris, and are curious as to the role that he will play. We are at this stage unsure, though, whether his rigidity of his reign is because of a lack of corruptibility, his desire to present himself as strong, or whether the "trinket" was in fact inconsequential to him. It appears at this stage that either of the first two options are viable. The fact that he continues to gaze at it after his rejection would indicate that the third is not an option. At this stage this does not necessarily need to be explained, but it will in the future.
As far as dialogue goes: In the past chapter your dialogue was amazingly adept for the situation. In this piece, however, or more accurately in the following section, I did not find it as impressive:
Before I start my review, I just wanted to apologize. I was away from the computer when you thanked me for the previous review. I wanted to let you know that I saw the message and it was my pleasure. If you want to discuss anything with me, and you don't see me in chat, please feel free to PM me.
Once again, Scribe, you have produced a remarkable piece.
Also slightly unclear is your painting of Vanaman as universally scorned and despised:
[qiuote] Even among other vampires, Vanaman was not welcome.[/quote]
If this is the case, you need to clarify why Elder Minos uses him as his messenger. I think this is actually quite important to the viability of the chapter as a whole, and without clearing this matter up you risk losing your credibility with the reader.
As far as Brin goes, you've painted her as a typical emotional woman with little depth of character compared to your other far more complex characters like Atnos Kree. If this is her as a character, great. If not, you need to develop her more in the near future. Her character seems kind of weak, and an add on rather than a puzzle-piece of the plot.
You've successfully aroused my attention concerning Sigurd. He seems complex and contradictory. I do like the multiple components that you've put into him.
The above section did not read well for me. I think there are a couple of reasons for this. Firstly, when street fighting, formalities of ordinary dialogue are dropped immediately. Usually this results in short remarks. Also, neither side is going to wait for the other to insult him completely before a retort is shot back. What I mean by this is that you might want to break down each piece of dialogue into smaller chunks. I'll give an example. This is how I'd write the piece of dialogue:
You've compromised no content, and you've made the dialogue snappier and less chunky. Chunkiness is fine for formal conversation. When it comes to street-fighting, however, it doesn't quite cut it as believable.
I think that you could definitely improve it by describing his mind's response to these accusations. If he's going to stand there and take the insults, his mind is going to be processing them. Let us know what he's thinking.
Finally, I just wanted to point out how much I loved this chapters last couple of sentences. You really brought out Atnos's character.
Have a great one!
I have to apologize, and recant a statement I made before. When I write this on word I have a space in the prose which appears as a break, but I completely forgot that this is basically lost when posted on YWS. I will be adding dashes. Thank you again for your comments!
I’m back Scribe!
I love this description. Adore it. Want to marry it. Okay, maybe not marry it but it is really good. The word choice is perfect as is the very aura Vanaman gives off through the writing made my skin crawl and I felt, well, dirty.
You did it again. Section breaks are really nice, I swear. It leads to way lest reader-shock.
Here too. *bobs Scribe on the head with a package of sections breaks* Use these wisely. ^^
And here.
Bodies!
And here. You really don’t like to break, do you? Although I have to admit that I really like the way you opened the new section here.
This section, overall is so much more surprising then the first one. But by far, my favorite is the last one with Brin and Atnos. It has a lot of emotion behind it that has been lacking throughout the story. Another section I really enjoyed was the one with Siggy talking about Guthryn because it gives so much more to his loyalty then just senseless loyalty.
Honestly, I’m just anticipating more as well as hoping for some page breaks.
^^ lilymoore