Novels2Search
His Misunderstood Crown
Chapter 26: Ichor

Chapter 26: Ichor

Epim walked down the stone steps carefully. It winded down, and down, with the occasional torch on the wall giving off light. It went quite deep, taking him far deep beneath the ground. He felt the air become slightly stale, and the torches lighting the way became more and more scarce.

The material lining the stairs changed from a simple brick to a more refined black stone, smooth and uniform but certainly giving off the impression that the material used to be much more vibrant and pronounced. Epim could only think about how long it must have been, for that brilliance to be worn away.

Going on long enough for Epim to forget when exactly he had first begun his descent, the stairs opened up to a large underground mausoleum. The stone of the floor was a vibrant white, somehow resisting the same decay as the stairs. The walls were a translucent gray, reflecting light with seemingly no source. The roof was pure black, no texture or grain to it.

All along the walls and floor were coffins of various sizes and shapes. All were taken care of pristinely, and most were made of wood that Epim gathered came from the tree’s of the woods. There were sticks of incense burning, though they never seemed to recede to the flame and simply put off their scent in continuity.

The scent was nostalgic, in a way that Epim couldn’t describe. Much like the forest above, but more refined and gentle. It reminded him slightly of the scent in the air when the rain came down.

His eyes were drawn to the end of the mausoleum, a slightly elevated platform sat at the end of the room. The coffin atop the platform was much more intricate, and instead of wood it was made of marble. Symbols of various bats are carved into the side and top of the coffin.

On top of the coffin too is an unlit stick of incense, and a book of matches to its right. Epim gazed for a while, examining each and every coffin on his walk to the marble one. There wasn’t a single one that was alike.

Walking up the steps, Epim stood in front of the coffin, looking at the incense and the matches. He thinks for a moment, and realizes that it would most likely be customary to light the incense before he prayed.

So he does, taking the match and lighting it quickly. The flame is different than he expected, though he’s not sure why. It's purple, glowing resolutely in the dark. He moves the flame over to the incense, and it begins to burn with the same purple hue. The transfer was complete, not a hint of flame is evident on the matchsticks end.

The incense smells similar, but different. It smelled like the forest, but this was strong and refined compared to the more subdued ones. He felt that the scent carried through the whole mausoleum, and he wouldn’t be surprised if it traveled even as far as up the staircase.

Epim takes a kneeling position, resting both his elbows on the coffin and his knees on the ground. His eyes close, and he pushes his palms together and interlocks his fingers. He doesn’t know what to expect, or to think. His eyes grow heavy, his body grows light. He feels himself in totality once again, and suddenly he feels his mind drop into the coffin, taking his awareness and understanding with it.

He falls through the dark, until he feels himself hit the ground with a hard thump. He looks around, his surroundings being lit by a purple flame. The entire situation is entirely confusing to him, and his eyes go wide as he notices a figure beginning to form.

Glossy and refined, the figure looks very similar to Bart, though much less emaciated. And in the face sharper, much more akin to a beast. The thing stands about a head shorter than Bart with its hands on the ground in front of it, and its legs behind it.

“I am Bast, introduce yourself.” The voice that comes out of it is anything but unrefined. Steady and heavy, kind but forceful.

“I’m Epim!” He responds quickly.

Bast approaches him quickly, his head bobbing up and down as he takes in the sight of Epim. “You’re quite different from those who usually come to speak to me. Tell me, why are you here?”

“Elder Bayt sent me down, he told me to pray and I did! I wish I had a better explanation, but I’m new around here.” He rubs the back of his head, his ignorance coming across quite amusing to Bast.

“Bayt, I see… I see. Well, you know nothing then?”

Epim nods his head enthusiastically.

“My descendant’s quite haughty I see. Normally this is the time where I tell of my story, of my rise. But it would mean nothing to you!” Bast laughs. “The village and its inception isn’t what you need to know about at all.”

Epim looks confused. “I’d be willing to listen to whatever!” Trying to be helpful, this only caused Bast to shake his head with an amusement plastered across his face.

“Ah, it makes even more sense now.” Bast looked Epim in the eyes, the black of his eyes clashing against the brown of Epim’s. “You don’t even know what you’re admiring, I see. I see.”

Bast places his right on the shoulder of Epim. “Epim, are you aware of why they call us blood suckers?” He flashes his teeth, showing their sharpness.

Epim’s eyes drop, and he remembers the scene of Bart and the mercenary he had slain. “Well, yes but I think that you’re much-”

Bast removes his hand and takes a seated position, floating in the darkness. “No, no. You’ve misunderstood. We are Bloodsuckers, it's truly our name. And there’s no reason to be ashamed, it’s where we came from after all.”

Epim feels a bit of shock. “What do you mean where you came from?”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

Bast nods, pleased by the defined curiosity. “I’m sure you’re aware of the castle that lies on the clifftop near our village? And to be honest, I know of the situation outside. The fact that someone like you is here, I believe you may be even thinking of going there, no?”

Epim turns his head in a slight shame. “Well, we did say we’d go see it.”

Bast laughs with his mouth open. “Of course. Then in our time together, let me tell you of our lord, and our origin because of him.” Bast clears his throat,

“That castle existed, far beyond this tiny village. Our lord was a man of great renown, someone capable of taming the hectic earth and staking his claim to the land. His name is Alucire. His skin is smooth and dark free of blemishes. His face seems chiseled, a prominent chin and jawline mark his face. His eyes shine a beautiful gold. He’s not quite tall, but not quite short. He’s a man of gentle temper, and unbelievable wisdom. His care is unmatched, and you must understand he is a very, very great man.” He speaks these words with tender reverence, a sparkle in his eye and a natural uplifting of his features.

“And of course for any great man, a great partner. His wife Miede, oh and you must understand how very kind she is. She stands quite tall, a full head taller than her husband. Her features are soft, her skin quite pale. Her eyes are gray, a very soft color. She gives off an aura of regality, and she is a lover of all of nature. Where Alucire moved the world, Miede moved him. His love for her, and her love towards the world combined made them quite a proud and great set of rulers.”

“And that brings us to us, the Bloodsuckers. We were but a pet for Miede that accompanied her. Many of us of course, for Miede could never bring herself to have any one of us apart from our family. We lived outside the castle interior, on the spires, on the ceilings, on the roofs. We existed within the confines of the castle and gave no worry to the outside. We were quite peaceful, and we had grown to be quite adored by Alucire and Miede.”

“Then, one day, something quite inauspicious occurred. Our lord, always so strong and resolute, had begun to attract us in a way that drew on our most primal urges. Within his blood pumped something more gracious than our normal meals of prey and fruit. It was intoxicating, even before we could sink our teeth in. So, one day, a particularly brave and proudful bat, one that I have no pride in naming as myself, accepted his urges. While the king slept, I fluttered through the castle corridors. I snuck into his bedchamber where he slept with his wife, and sunk my teeth into his neck.”

A tear rolls down Bast’s eye, any further emotion suppressed by his desire to complete his story.

“In that moment, the blood that came into contact with my body caused the strangest of transformations in my body. I felt myself begin to grow larger, my mind had begun to become all the clearer. As I sucked out the last of the blood I could, I fell to the side of the bed. Both Alucire and Miede woke up, looking down at me in shock. Alucire could feel the puncture wounds, and I’m sure he could understand the blood that he had lost. They had every right to strike me down, then and there.”

“But they didn’t. They questioned me, yes. And I could respond only with the truth. The hunger I had felt, the shame I had been feeling at the time. I said each of my clan was feeling the same, how it almost drove us mad. Alucire and Miede had taken a while to speak with one another, and when they came back what they offered me was something I will hold dear for my life. They gave me my name, Bast. They laughed as they said it, and they told me I was free to stay in the castle with them.”

Bast looks upwards, as if he was seeing through the void towards the castle that contained them now.

“And of course, that was a fraction of the lord’s kindness. Because as I had grown to my new shape, I lost my ability to understand, and emphasize with my brethren. And I could tell, the hunger in them grew greater, and wilder. I knew they loved the lord and his wife just as much as I did, and it hurt me so to see them grappling with their inner desires. Alucire must have seen this, for he did something I will never forget.”

“He set out into the courtyard, late at night long after Miede and I had gone to sleep. All of my clan were there, their eyes piercing through the darkness at the example of their desire. And they pounced, each and every one sank their flesh into his skin. Each drank till their fill, and each went through a similar transformation to me. Of course some were taller, some shorter, some bigger, and some smaller, but they all grew the intense clarity, same as me.”

“And you should have seen Miede, awakened by the mob of the Bloodsuckers, carrying the body of her husband covered with bites and holes, though still breathing and smiling stupidly. She cursed her husband, and us too of course, and she cried tears of happy joy as she nursed him back to health. This was when we took over duties for the castle, doing all the menial work that we couldn’t bare to have our saviors do themselves.”

Bast releases a content sigh, remembering the true joy he had felt back at that time.

“Alucire gave us the plot of land down where you see our town now, and he told us to build a great place for our people. He gave us our life, our agency, as he wasm he was an example of great divinity to us. An example of admiration, and when I closed my eyes and had my physical body to rest, it was still that way.”

Bast voice now becomes grave.

“And this is where the story takes a turn. For as my kin were laid to rest, one brought a greatly startling fact to me. Preceding our hunger, they said they had witnessed a man with golden eyes, but not one that belonged to our lord. This fact, while seemingly insubstantial, has become a great fear of mine. You see, golden eyes are a curse and a blessing. They are an example of insight, of wisdom blessed beyond just experience. And generally to those without them, they are seen as an omen.”

“Seemingly without reason or explanation, our lord banished us from the castle, down to the town below. He closed his gates, and he let no one come in again. Any who did try to return have never been heard from again. Then the land began to weaken, and the wildlife grew sick. My descendants too, felt their bodies growing weaker and their need for sustenance even greater.”

“Then word of my lord's absence spread, and legends of his blood, and ours as extension spread. We became a commodity, plucked off in the forest we used to live in tandem with so beautifully. And that brings us to today, Epim.”

He turns his head upwards, looking at him in the eyes again. Epim is slightly dazed, the information swirling in his head.

“While I wish I could tell you more, it seems our time is up. I’ve only told you of the past, and can not tell you how to proceed now. But please, understand that our lord has given us something great. While we may suffer now, please do not forget the kindness he shared.”

Before Epim could respond, he felt himself hoisted back upwards. He felt his senses return to his corporeal body, and his eyes flash open. He looked to his left, seeing that the incense had completely burned. He looked at his hands still in prayer, and remembered the story Bast had told him. Although he wished for the conversation to continue, he knew naturally that there would be no second conversation.”

Standing up, and looking back through the room, Epim walks back to the stairs. Carried by the experience of the dead, Epim’s thoughts are not on the castle on the cliffside, but the people within.