I

On the green, western mountain range, the horizon drank the sun, bleeding the sky red. Soon, the color left the world starry, moonless black. The crimson castle stood on the cliff where the ocean’s tides gnarled against the rock wall. The jet-black spires reached for heaven like thirsty claws. The shriek ripped from within the castle walls, and the guffaw followed.

In the torchlit court, frankincense thickened the air. The nobility thronged the floor, and their dances were like whispering ghosts. Their grey skin left no trace of their humanity before they became creatures of the night. To them, it marked their divinity.

Before them was a short flight of quartz steps to the dais. A blond emperor sat, lazing on his ebony throne. His black eyes scanned the court aside the dancers.

The drinkers gurgled their glasses greedily. They had no intention of wiping scarlet stain off their mouths. The players’ claws crept across the thrall’s pale body, full of bites. He was naked except for a loincloth. He was kneeling on the banquet table, and his arms were strapped to the sides. His vacant, brown eyes reflected the silk tablecloth.

A scoff escaped the emperor’s mouth, and he looked at his wife, whose scant robe bore her ashen limbs.

His gaze admired the supple, voluptuous curves of her frame. Then it returned to the empress’ side profile. His voice rumbled, “Where is Sarthos? He understands the necessity of his attendance, yes?”

Her half-lidded eyes drifted to his face. She answered with a smirk, “Yes, my love. But you know his father died.”

“And he took over to lead the Zurvos clan, I know. But his father would’ve been here earlier than expected. This is unbecoming of him,” He covered his face, “To think that Odmig picked his son as their clan’s champion, and he left us too soon.”

Her hand found his as she said, “You’ve always taken Odmig’s counsel with a heart. You know Sarthos is no different from his father.”

“I suppose you’re right, my dear. Sarthos isn’t a reckless knave.”

The monolithic doors burst inwards, cutting the nobility to silence. The crimson caricature of a visitor straightened and announced, grinning and arms wide, “My liege, forgive my unpunctuality!”

The emperor observed the boor’s steel armor, which was drenched with blood, and he said, “I see you’ve been busy, Sarthos Zurvos.”

The metallic footfalls clanked across the court, each scarlet step staining the floor. Sarthos glanced at the crowd and said, “Well, don’t let me spoil your fun!”

The crowd boomed with laughter through the hall and went on with their sports. The guards approached the doors, closing them. Sarthos made it through the throng and ascended the stairs to the dais. He then knelt and bowed his head.

“Sarthos. Your clan arrived without their chief. Only half of them are here. Explain yourself,” the emperor said.

Sarthos looked up with a smirk. “I was under the impression that they would vouch for me.”

“They have. But I would prefer to hear it from the chief.”

“Fair enough. The hunters delayed our travels.”

The court grew with sudden murmurs.

The emperor’s eyes glinted with intrigue. He leaned in and asked, “From outside our lands?”

The latter nodded. “Indeed. I heard their footsteps. So I brought my best men, saved for Yeenar. However, they didn’t make it.”

He stood and turned to the court. “But fret not, my friends. As you can see, I made the wine out of the hunters!”

The court laughed in relief.

The former closed his eyes, stroked his beard, and sighed. They opened, and he said, “Bathe this chief.”

“You have my gratitude, my liege.”

The emperor waved him off. “Leave us be, you arrogant bastard.”

Sarthos chuckled. “Naturally, I will.” And he descended to the scantily-clad women as they were waiting for him with half-lidded eyes.

The empress turned to her husband and said, “No different from his father.”

He smiled softly and agreed, “No. It’s as if we saw Odmig again.”

The steam took up the entire space of the marbled bathhouse. One of the women, a brunette, poured hot water on the chief’s head, washing the blood away from the black mass of hair. The redhead cooed, “Master Sarthos, do you wish us to join you?”

The blonde rested her hand on his chest as she commented, “Please, let us join you so you can tell us about your tale. The one with the hunters.”

He shook his head. “No, leave me be.”

The water-pourer reminded him, “I’ll have you know that the emperor had us accompany you.”

“I know. But I need privacy.”

The redhead joined him to hug his arm. “Please, Master Sarthos. We’re all soft.”

The blonde circled her hand, stroking his chest. “You must’ve been holding yourself back for a while—”

“Enough.” Sarthos quickly stood, his hips under the water. The blonde already drew her hand away and stood. Her eyes, full of hurt and need, fixated on his face.

The redhead widened her eyes briefly before narrowing them at him. She climbed out of the pool and crossed her arms. “Hmph.”

The water-pourer stood and threw a jug into the pool, and the water splashed on Sarthos’s face. The women finally left him alone.

With a sigh, he sank back into the water to sit on the ledge, wiping his face. With a bowed head, he rested his arms on the edges as he watched the blood flow away from him. Then the jug drifted toward him. But it swallowed more water and submerged into the pool.

Without a thought, the chief dove into the blue void to follow the plummeting jug. As soon as he grabbed it, he spun upside down and lay on the floor. He watched the light in the distance.

He watched the gloom of the pool, letting the silence stretch.

As it satisfied him, he swam up to the surface and drew to the edge. He looked at his smooth hand.

His hand clenched into a fist.

I think I’m done with a bath, the chief thought.

He got out of the pool and set the jug down near the edge. He picked a towel to wrap his hips.

Blending in with the nobility, the chief wore the finery he was given beforehand. He took in the scene of their sports. Then the center caught his attention. A tall vampire wore fur-trimmed leather armor. The chief recognized him as his clansman, Yeenar. Both his hands still grasped the bloody woman’s arms. It was not her blood.

He announced, “My men and I found this huntress in the woods! And I won’t lie, she gave us hell. She killed half of us. In return, we’ll make her a thrall!”

With a panther-like agility, she wriggled out of his grasp. She pulled a wooden stake out of her belt and drove it straight to his eye.

“You bitch!” He shrieked, groping the stake. He yanked it out and threw it to the ground. In a blink, he wrapped his left arm around her and pulled her hair with his right. “I’ll have you turned!” He snarled as he bared his fangs, nearing her neck.

She closed her eyes as she strained her head away in vain.

Then his head suddenly threw back. She opened her eyes and looked at his hair being pulled. Sarthos was gripping it tight.

The chief said, “I don’t think that’s how we should treat the new guests in the court. Especially the ladies.”

“Chief Sarthos! She stabbed me in the eye!”

“And it can come back. Let her go.”

“She killed half of our men!”

“Remember your debt. I’ve saved your life many times. I was generous enough to let you collect the spoils of war. I think you can return the favor. Give her to me. That's all I want.”

The captor let her go. She wheeled about her, seeing the grinning vampires. Then she turned to the chief. He released the hair.

He strode towards her. “Follow me. You are my escort.”

She sighed in relief. But as soon as he passed by her. The scent triggered his defensive instinct, and he wheeled to her.

Like a blur, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her. She panicked, “Hey, what are you doing?”

His face closed the distance to her neck and inhaled the scent through the bloodstain. It was familiar to him. A scent of his father’s slayer. Quickly, he drew back and looked at the woman.

He said, “She’s the blood of the Blum. A daughter of my father’s slayer.”

The court stirred in panic, looking at each other. They shared the muttered name in fear, “Blum?”

The emperor stood and shouted, “Silence!”

They immediately quieted down. He sat back down.

Sarthos gazed at Blum’s supple curves, then fixated on her volcanic blue eyes. “Your clan hunted mine for uncounted time. Your father slew mine,” he paused for a moment before grinning, but it did not reach his eyes, “and you will be my bride.”

He scooped her up and carried her on his shoulder. Her fists hammered his back, though it was pointless. She screamed as she wriggled against his powerful grasp, “No!”

The court cheered as he strode to the emperor. He asked, “My liege, may I request a room here?”

The emperor rubbed his face and gazed back at Sarthos. “Don’t be too long.”

The chief left the court with his newfound furious companion.

In his rented room, he tossed her on the bed. He turned toward the door and locked it.

She scowled, “You bastard, if you think you can–”

He shushed her while pressing his ear to the door. No sound came from behind it. Then he rushed to her and muttered, “Your father spared me. I never knew why. But I intend to repay my debt. Mine for yours.”

The huntress asked, “Is that why you slaughtered half of your clan?”

He looked at the window. “The ones I deemed strong. Though, perhaps I should say not anymore.”

“You know I won’t stop at nothing until your kind is dead.”

“My kind. I can’t even warrant them as people. They’re animals, moved by their basic instincts. You’re lucky I stopped that idiot from making a spectacle in the court.”

“Then do you call yourself an animal as well?”

“Perhaps. But enough talk. We must find the way out for you.”

He strode to the window, peering through it. The world was still bright for his vampiric eyes. The western marches still stood proudly, yet he knew the time would crumble them down with its invisible hands.

He asked, “You came from the West?”

Her answer came with a scoff, “If you were a man, you would have to be an idiot to live there.”

He looked over his shoulder. “So you’ve come from the East, where the sun comes early and bright. Clever.”

“You think stroking my ego would make me warm up to you?”

“Not at all, no.” He turned around and asked, “Can you swim?”

She stammered, “Not everyone has the luxury of swimming.”

His mouth gaped at that revelation. He shook his head. “Surely, you jest.”

She bowed her head.

“Do you fear heights?”

With aggression, she got off the bed and stood opposite him. “I’ve scaled the mountains a few bowshots away from here.”

“Very well,” he pivoted to open the window. “Climb on my back.”

“You can’t be serious!”

“The door won’t buy us time if the court suspects that we haven’t made a sound.”

“Oh, fine.” She climbed on his back. Her arms looped around his neck, and her legs around his waist. “This is embarrassing.”

He grinned and distanced himself from the window. “Don’t fret. You can carry me next time.”

She gasped, “Why you–”

She yelped as he sprinted towards the window. He sprang out. She looked over her shoulder. The castle started to shrink until it became a silhouette.

She looked down, and the forest sprawled far below them. She took in the view, mesmerized. The canopy grew wider and wider. She closed her eyes, bracing for impact.

The dirt and fallen leaves burst under the landing impact. Her heart pounded against his back. He slightly bent his knees. “You can let me go now.”

She opened her eyes. “Right.” Her legs found the ground as she got off his back. She scanned her surroundings. “I know this area. I went through here.”
“Good,” he said. “We’re on the right track.”