The lunar ceremony would begin the moment the full moon reached apex, marking the night when all of Goro’s legions replenished their sanguis. This ritual not only kept them civilized but also loyal to their master through each Salvator. The fact the ceremony revolved around the moon was irrelevant. The bright orb merely signaled that supplies of sanguis would soon go bad if not blessed. It also called the noble vampure to receive their allotted dosage.
The miracle of this ritual focused on the nature of blood itself and how long it could be stored. That of humans turned necrotic after only thirty minutes and coagulation worsened an already difficult digestion. Though dragon lifeforce could be stored longer, it too needed special care. The longest Titus knew of any sanguis lasting, no matter its source, was forty days, but that was during winter months or when ice was available to keep it chilled.
It could be bottled and kept longer by adding a mere drop of Goro’s sacrifice.
Normally, to drink the blood of another vampure or voltur brought sickness and death, the highest form of blasphemy. But Goro’s sanguis wrote all the rules, the source by which all vampure were turned, and a mere drop of his sanguis preserved the youthfulness and form obtained from dragons. He was the Alpha, the father of his kind, and his blessing purified instead of destroyed.
Goro, he thought. I must speak to him as soon as I can, to beg his forgiveness. By consuming pure dragon sanguis, Titus obtained this new form, bringing him closer to his lord but without expressed permission. He was now a Gamma, considered among the noblest of forms second only to the Deltas and the Alpha himself. To obtain a higher form, while doing the master’s work, would generally receive no penalty. But failure to reveal the change, to hide it away, would be discovered, earning the same fate as the soldier Titus had condemned in the courtyard.
But first the Salvator must perform the ritual, to tend his legion.
The temple of Goro lay beneath another, a proxy paying homage to the impotent Roman gods. He would reach it through winding passages beneath the city. Titus descended a staircase to his wine cellar, pushing aside a panel and sliding a two-high stack of casks to the side. The casters were heavy, too much so for a human to have opened the secret door. It proved an easy feat for a vampure. On the other side three Omicron legionaries awaited their Salvator, ready to escort him through catacombs.
As Titus and his escorts approached the temple, a bobbing torch rushed to meet them. Its bearer, another legionary, panted breathlessly as he delivered his dire warning. “A bad omen, Dominus! Sentries reported hundreds of stars falling from the sky!”
Titus waved the phenomenon away with his hand, dismissing it as superstition. “Bah,” he said. “It’s nothing!”
“There were also dragons, my lord! The western horizon, the entire sky, was full of them just a few minutes ago!”
This gave Titus pause. Dragons were on their way. “Mere trickery and illusion, but remain on your guard tonight. There may be a lower form, an infant dragon, approaching the city. He may have already arrived. I don’t know if his magic is strong enough to affect the mind as a higher form can, but remain vigilant. I have the rest of the legion scouring the city. You four must patrol these tunnels. Don’t allow anyone who doesn’t share our bloodline to enter, not even if they appear human.
But especially don’t allow a dragon, he thought.
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The assemblage had already gathered by the time Titus arrived, draped in the same red and gold robes as he. From the next room emerged Diana, holding the hands of little Rupert and Racinda. All three wore flowing white gowns of purity. His concubine nodded and Titus stepped up to the altar, carefully removing the clasp of his hooded robe. Letting it drop to the floor, he looked out at their faces, a mixture of Gaulish and Roman, each staring back patiently.
“Today is a special day,” he told them.
“His life to us, our lives for him,” they replied in unison.
“We also bring two more into the legion,” he added.
“Their lives to us, our lives for you.”
Titus reached beneath the altar, drawing out three bottles. These contained dragon sanguis, brought to him a year earlier by the Betas. His supply ran low and hoped more would be delivered before his legion began showing signs of aging. Worse, sickness may set in, making them nearly as vulnerable as humans. He poured these out over the middle of the altar, letting the mixture swirl down thin grooves carved into the top. Soon, it pooled near Titus, awaiting the final blessing.
Diana handed him a fourth bottle, this one containing Goro’s sanguis. He poured this slowly.
“Just as you have shed for me and I have shed for you, Goro has shed for all of us. May his sanguis enrich the blood of our enemies, purifying the gift it contains within.”
“His life to us, our lives for him,” they replied in unison.
Titus chose this moment to transform, to reveal to his legion the new Gamma form he wore. His wings, once strong and wide, opened more broadly, spanning farther than they had ever reached. The bones in his face twisted, forming a circular crown worn only by the Alpha, his Betas, and Gammas. He did not allow his fangs to drop, this ritual was one of humility, and not of wanton thirst.
The assemblage pushed back their hoods one by one until all twelve had exposed their own faces. Each of these changed according to their form.
The Epsilons and Zetas grew ridges on their cheeks and brows, but no horns emerged. Those were reserved for the two spiked Delta or higher. The Thetas grew ridges only on their cheeks. Some, the Lambdas and Kappas, still resembled humans. Those with wings, the Thetas and higher, fanned briefly, then humbly lay them flat below their robes. Everyone but the Kappas and Lambdas grew taller and their limbs stretched longer.
After he finished pouring, Diana handed Titus an empty chalice, golden with the Lord of Blood carved onto the side. He held it low against the altar, beneath where the liquid pooled, and pressed a button with his palm. A tiny slot depressed and much of the mixture poured like a tap into the goblet. As soon as it was filled, he released the pressure on the button and the flow stopped.
He held the filled chalice up so all could see.
“Through his blessing and the blood of our enemies, I receive the Lord of Blood.”
“His life to us, our lives for him,” the congregation replied in unison.
Titus drank deeply, filling his belly with his Salvator’s share. Then he leaned his palm once more against the altar and refilled it, stepping around to face the onlookers. He scanned their faces, judging their patience. No fangs had been bared. Stealing a glance at Diana and the children, he could tell that they, too, had not yet given in to the blood lust.
“Come Epsilon and Zeta, fill your belly with your lord,” he said.
Two of the communicants, Legate Vulcan Sylla and a visitor, Senator Crius Glaber, stepped out of the first row and drank their ration before returning to their seats. Only then did Diana approach, a Zeta in her own right, but subservient to these two chosen by Goro. She drank what remained and stood once more beside the children.
Titus refilled the chalice and called for the next to be blessed. “Come Theta, fill your belly with your lord,” he repeated.
Four members of the congregation stepped forward, lining up for their turns. Among these the Salvator recognized the Gaulish emissary, Urien Yannick, the representative among the non-Romans in the city. Why Goro wished this man elevated to Theta was not for Titus to question, but watching him closely for deviance was a duty he performed with diligence. He did not like this Gaul.
After all Theta had seated, he filled the cup once more. “Come Kappa and Lambda,” he said, loudly for those standing in the back, “fill your belly with your lord.”
The remaining six robed figures stepped forward, taking their measured allowance according to their ordered rank. Only enough sanguis remained to fill one more goblet, but he set the chalice aside. Holding an empty bottle against the altar, he pressed the button, filling it and sealing the top. This would be served later to his most loyal legionaries—added to a human sacrifice on the new moon.
He handed the bottle and chalice to Diana, then motioned for her and Rupert to depart. She would feed the boy a portion of her sanguis, sealing their bond as mother and son. Titus would do the same with Racinda. That would awaken their bloodlust, completing their transformation as a privileged, but not yet noble, Omicron.
He grabbed Racinda and lifted her by the armpits, gently laying her body across the altar.
“It is time for a sacrifice,” Titus explained to his legion, pulling a silken cord, dyed crimson, from his robes. He used this to symbolically bind the girl to the altar. He looked into her face as he tied the knots. She still did not realize where she was. Goro still spoke in her mind, his blessing hidden in the saliva Titus had injected when first he fed.
“Blessed is the Life Bringer!” Titus said to the congregation, and everyone in attendance knelt before the sacrifice.
“Life Bringer,” the legion sang in return, “bless us with longevity.”
Dominus Titus placed his left wrist beside Racinda’s mouth, gripping the altar with his right. He spread his wings as wide as they would go, his shadow flickering against the farthest wall.
“May this sacrifice be pleasing,” the worshippers sang in unison, “a gift from your chosen few."
Titus scanned the room, marveling for a moment at how much his shadow resembled that belonging to the Lord of Blood. He was a Gamma, a true visage of Goro. “Our lord finds it pleasing,” he intoned, “and blesses all his children with eternal youth.” He leaned over and opened his mouth wide.
“Her life to us, our lives for you,” his legion chanted the words of subservience. Racinda herself would recite them soon, after drinking of his sanguis.
Her fangs finally emerged, as small as they were, and she turned toward his wrist instinctively. She still hesitated, he realized, to bite. Titus felt the surging anticipation of Goro’s power pulse his veins, eager to enter the girl. Unable to control his own fangs any longer, they descended as those of a true Gamma, as sharp as his master’s.
Titus leaned close and gently kissed the girl’s cheek, then whispered, “Take nourishment from my veins,” he encouraged, “and rise up as my daughter.”
The girl’s head turned and she bit, gently at first, but then her eyes closed as the need for satiation took over her mind. This first taste would burn her belly and she flinched with pain as the sanguis entered. Her eyes again opened, unseeing the crowd looking on. It was then, during that brief moment, she found pleasure in her blessing and became Titus’ daughter.
“Racinda!” a man’s voice screamed from the far entrance. Standing beneath his shadow was the farmer, the husband of Adelia.
Every head in the cavern turned to watch the intruder, pushing back their hoods and baring fangs upon finding a human.
No, Titus thought, this is no human. He is dragonkind like his wife and children! Goro will be pleased by how I lured him into the open. Titus pulled his wrist away from Racinda. She had drunk enough, and quickly untied her bonds.
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Hate filled the farmer, driving him forward with a flashing blade in his hand. It was a scythe, the tool of a farmer, most likely the only weapon this man owned. Lost in blind rage, the intruder reaped the nearest worshipers, killing several Kappas and Lambdas and one Theta. Blindly the farmer sliced, his eyes locked on Dominus Titus. He struck down any vampure who dared step into his way. In all he killed six with his iron tool, cutting the noble portion of Titus’ legion in half.
The rest leaped on him together, clawing at a dragon scale collar around his neck and biting at his skin.
No! Titus realized this was wrong, watching them attack the gift he hoped to give Goro. As Salvator, he could not allow them to drink from this pure dragonkind, especially not so soon after receiving their blessing. “Do not consume his sanguis!” he bellowed from the altar. “Hold him there!”
To his relief they obeyed, gripping the farmer tightly and holding him to the ground. Urien Yannick, the Gaulish representative, reached down and ripped the scythe from his hand, flinging it aside with a sizzling cry.
“Iron!” Urien screamed. Titus understood his pain, it would scar his palm, especially while steaming with vampure blood. The farmer grinned, eager to deal more of the same.
“Move aside,” Titus growled. He had scooped up Racinda, setting her feet on the ground, and now led her by the hand. “Who is this man to you?” he asked her.
“He was my father,” she replied dryly, without any bit of emotion in her voice.
“Was your father,” Titus agreed. “Farmer, what is your name?”
“I am Erwan and she is Racinda, but… I don’t understand. How are you alive, my dear? I found you and Rupert bled out by this beast!”
“Rupert…” Titus considered, “Ah yes. The boy. That was his name.” It will be changed to Titus soon. Turning to Urien, he commanded, “fetch the boy.”
“Yes, fetch him and hand my children over to me,” Erwan demanded, “and we’ll be leaving.”
Titus laughed. Never before had he heard such daring from someone about to die. “My,” he said, “aren’t you a bold one. Erwan the Bold it will be. But no, I’m very sorry, you’ve discovered our secret and killed quite a few of my noble families. They will need replacing.” The Roman leaned forward, removing the collar, sniffing and breathing close to the farmer’s neck. This man reeked of dragon.
“My daughter,” Erwan begged, “don’t you want to leave with me?” Of course Racinda said nothing, she had tasted sanguis and now understood the truth of the world as Goro had taught her. “Why don’t you stop him?” the farmer asked his former daughter. “Draw the dagger from his side and use it. Help me, daughter.”
“I don’t want to help you,” she answered. “I’m too hungry!” She abruptly lunged, pushing past her new father with bared fangs, biting wildly for Erwan’s neck.
Titus reached out a hand, grabbing his daughter’s neck and stopping her mid-bite just before making contact. “No. Do not taint your palate with his blood.” If she consumed dragon sanguis now, it might confuse the transformation. It might even undo the process entirely. But it also may enhance it!
Urien returned with Rupert and Diana, and Titus watched as they entered the cavern. The boy licked his lips wildly, snapping and biting the air between him and his father on the ground. His meal had been interrupted.
Erwan turned an angry head, staring directly into Titus’ eyes. “Where is Adelia?” he demanded. “Where is my wife?”
“Something isn’t right,” Titus realized.
This man smelled entirely wrong. The blood within him was not like Adelia’s, nor was it like the children’s before they turned. Titus told him so. “Your blood is different than your children!” He breathed deep against Erwan’s neck and added, “They only took after their mother.” He sniffed once more then recoiled. Behind his fangs Titus frowned. This man only smelled like dragonkind because he had recently been near one. A large one. “You are fully human and only reek of dragon! You’ve been around their forms!” He sniffed again, “Elderkin most recently!”
“My wife is also human,” Erwan said, his ignorance now laughable. The man had not known!
“She is of dragonkind, and that’s why I called your children to me, to drink of my blood and transform. They have chosen a new form, a mix between two Keryx, and far nobler than any single vampure or dragon! They have chosen to serve Goro! Now, I will raise them as nobility, granting them a better life than you ever could.”
“You are full of lies and deceit! My wife is as human as them and me! Where is she? I will ask her myself.”
“Adelia is dead where you buried her. She could not be raised because of the trinkets of iron you left in her grave!” the vampure snapped. “Now answer me, Erwan the Bold, how is it I smell dragon on your body? What is this form you have taken?”
“I am not of their blood and this is no form. I am merely a vinculum.”
Titus looked up, suddenly very worried for the legion he tended. He eyed the entrance to the sanctuary warily. “You are bonded? If so, you are the first to do so in a thousand years!”
“My lord!” Urien remarked with excitement. “If he has brought his dragon here, we should feast on its sanguis and our youthful blessings will last decades!”
No, Titus knew that was the last thing his people should do. He wavered, very concerned about what was about to happen. “I smelled Elderkin,” he said. “What is the name of the aerouant you have bonded?”
The farmer smiled. “His name is Argant!”
Everyone in the room gasped. Whispers of pure blood and greatness rippled through the assemblage. Urien cried out, “Argant is the oldest, the first! He is the Lord of Fire! If we drink from a Keryx our blessings will endure immortality rivaling only Goro’s!”
“You fools,” Titus warned without taking his eyes from the tunnel. “None of you can match Argant in your present forms! Nor do you have permission from Goro to do so!”
As if in agreement, a mighty roar echoed down the tunnel and into the sanctuary. The walls shook and torches flickered.
Greedy for the sanguis, the six vampure holding Erwan released him, sprinting from the sanctuary with all the others.
Still atop the farmer, Titus watched them leave, shaking his head at their foolishness. “You all rush to your deaths!” he called out, then returned his eyes to Erwan. “How are you not bonded to an aerouant instead? Why did Argant leave the safety of Mount Sapientia?” He paused, not waiting for an answer and worriedly added, “And why did he send you to face me alone?”
“He’s helping me to slay you,” Erwan spat, “and then I’ll give him the means to defeat Goro!”
Titus again eyed the tunnel through which his followers had foolishly rushed. Shouts and screams now echoed through the catacombs, mixing with an angry dragon’s roar. He pulled his eyes away, unable to stomach the carnage their foolishness had rushed into. He looked instead on his concubine, made more beautiful while holding the hands of their children.
She seemed eager to flee and so now did the Salvator. It would be understandable if they did. Goro would understand that not even a Delta could fell an Elderkin by himself.
But I’m no longer a Delta, Titus realized. I’m a Gamma! He shifted his weight just slightly as he considered how best to end this human and face the dragon.
But Erwan abruptly pushed, sending the vampure rolling to the side. As the Salvator toppled, Racinda let go of Diana’s hand and lunged forward. Her fangs barely missed Erwan’s neck, just as his hand drew the dagger from Titus’ belt. While her momentum carried her past, he plunged the blade forward, aiming between the Roman’s ribs.
He let out a gasp, a silent scream as the blade struck his side, but that gasp quickly turned to laughter as the blade shattered into pieces.
Erwan stared at the useless hilt in his hand.
Titus found his balance and rose to his knees, shoving Erwan away like the nuisance he was, sending him skidding across the sanctuary. The Gamma stood over the fallen man, flanked on both sides by Rupert and Racinda. They had not yet mastered the discipline to control their blood lust, and hunger was all that drove them. Both lunged.
Erwan eyed the discarded scythe laying outside of his reach. He would never be able to reach and use it against Titus. His human reflexes were too slow.
The children reached him, clawing at his neck. It took all his strength to hold them at arm’s length, snapping and biting and driven only by their need for satiation. Tears clouded the father’s eyes as he stared at the discarded scythe. He would have to release one of his children to grab it and looked between them as if deciding who. The other would be upon him the moment he did.
Erwan made his decision, letting go of both and rolling out of the way toward the scythe. The children clamored and fell, each pulling the other away like drowning swimmers desperate for air. While they fought, Erwan moved out of their reach, away from instead of toward Titus.
This confused the Roman. What was this man waiting for? His dragon? The children would kill him soon.
What Erwan did shocked Dominus Titus. It was something no father should have ever been able to do. He swung the iron two times, once for each of his children, severing their heads and leaving them to roll on the floor.
Even Diana was too shocked to either move or scream. She merely trembled, tears welling up in her throat but refusing to come out.
“You idiot!” An Elderkin bellowed as he lumbered into the room. This was surely Argant the Ancient, the Lord of Fire and nemesis of Goro. “They had not fully changed and could have been cured by my blood! That’s the reason I let you go ahead, for you to sacrifice yourself so that they could be our future! You just squandered your last opportunity to live out your days as their father!”
Erwan, upon hearing the dragon’s words fell to his knees beside the bodies of his children.
Titus stared up at the massive Elderkin, slowly reasoning out the dragon’s plan. “You sent your child into the human world, hoping she would give birth in that form, producing mixed-breed dragon-humans you could someday use against us? You wanted them to be turned vampure, so that you could intervene at the last moment when their minds had not yet accepted their new form. You hoped they would become hybrids, just as Goro had sought to create for so long?”
Erwan heard these words and looked up at the Elderkin. “Is this true?” he demanded.
The dragon moved clumsily, his belly swollen from so many devoured vampure. He let out a long and rumbling burp, his fire surging brightly and lighting the sanctuary, then made his way toward Titus, growling and hissing fire as the vampure backed away.
“You astound me, Erwan the Brash!” Argant said without taking his eyes from his prey. “What kind of father are you? You left alive the very man you sought to kill and instead hacked your own children into pieces!”
“Do not evade my question? Is what he said true!” the farmer screamed. “Did you let me come in here alone, hoping I would be bitten? That my own children would feed off me? Is that the evolution your kind hope to create? To become hybrids like Titus says?”
Argant roared again, swinging his broad tail at the ducking Roman. “You pledged me your life when we bonded, so it matters not what I do with your body or those of my grandchildren. You had already given up on living!” the dragon accused. “Knowledge they lived would have dampened your vengeance.”
Erwan paused, a mixture of remorse and confusion. “I deserved the truth,” he argued, eyeing his scythe. Dark blood dripped from the blade to the floor.
Argant snapped at Titus, turning his attention away from the farmer. Long, foul teeth ripped a gash in the vampure’s wing, but the Gamma was faster, stepping aside and plunging sharp claws between hard scales. With a heave, two ripped away. The dragon roared angrily, swatting with a massive arm that knocked Titus briefly to the ground. The dragon loomed over him, breathing foul air that stenched the room. Then he bit down, meaning to chomp Titus in two halves.
As the Gamma turned away, he briefly glimpsed another, bolder, act from the human called Erwan. The man pressed the tip of his scythe beneath his breastbone, gripping the handle with both hands. “You may have my form as promised,” Erwan yelled, “but Titus will also kill you if you take it from me now!”
These words confused Titus, but it worked to turn the dragon’s head before his teeth could make contact.
“Not yet!” Argant roared.
Erwan plunged the iron deep, arching it upward into his heart, then slumped immediately to the ground. The bold farmer died with a smile on his face, his thirst for vengeance quenched.
Titus watched the human die, a bold act, his taking of his own life. He had broken the vinculum. Full of rage, the dragon roared, forgetting about the Gamma at his feet. His fangs bit deep into Argant’s exposed neck, drinking deeply, taking as much sanguis as he could draw.
Argant should have been able to fight off Dominus Titus. He had expected to finish him off with a single bite. But consuming so many vampure had slowed him, and the vampure sanguis acted like poison within his body.
What once was Erwan blinked two blue eyes, those orbs changing briefly to fire then back to blue. The Elderkin collapsed atop the vampure as Erwan rose upon two feet. Two hands grabbed the wooden handle protruding from his chest, drawing it out with a grunt.
The poison worked quickly to ruin both mind and body of Titus. As his senses dulled he watched in awe as the human rose from the dead. No, that’s not the human any longer! The dying Salvator had not expected such an exchange, had not realized the vinculum provided for a swapping of souls. The Lord of Fire had finally taken human form, exchanged his own for this human. Argant walked toward his former body.
He raised Erwan’s scythe above his head, meaning to bring it down on Titus’ neck. Then he paused and cocked his head to watch him feed.
Only then did the Gamma, Dominus Titus of Rome, realize his deadly mistake. He had grown too intoxicated by the sanguis, and only just then realized what he drank. Having so recently consumed pure dragon sanguis, his body would not be able to absorb what was now offered by the dragon. So young and naïve in his new form, he had expected to find only that same meal from the Elderkin’s flesh, but Argant had intentionally consumed too many vampure.
Titus now consumed the poison of his own kind, and it alone would kill him.
Normally passed quickly by a dragon after eating, Argant had held the vile sanguis in, allowing it to fester and collect in the case of this very scenario. He knew that humans were unpredictable and doubted Erwan would remain true to their agreement.
I’ve failed you, my lord! Titus felt his conscious fade.
Without swinging the scythe, Argant fulfilled Erwan’s final task of vengeance. He had killed Dominus Titus the Gamma.
“Run,” Argant told Diana as Titus died, “back to Goro and tell him what has happened here today. Tell him the war is resumed, and that I will find him.”