When he awoke the moonlight was already shining in through his windows, turning over he was a little surprised to find it empty. He thought Leniseh would at least have wished him farewell.
Yawning he got himself up and ready. Breakfast was again laid out for him, perfect and abundant. Hungry, he sat down to eat, he contented himself with just the one glass of wine, though his own body metabolised alcohol far quicker than that of a normal human, it was still best he not indulge too much. Trendal had mentioned something about training last night. Whatever that was Aodh wanted to be ready.
He did not have to wait long to be called upon. This time there was no Prince at his door, but more of the city guards. As was becoming custom they stepped aside for him to head out. Aodh followed the one in front.
They led him away from the palaces to an area more populated than the rest. Here Aodh saw a host of Temples, all unfamiliar to him and none similar to any he had ever seen on his travels. He guessed them Vampirii Deities, Beings no one knew anything of. Even Desra.
They moved past all of them however and instead made directly for what looked like an amphitheatre. The sound of fighting could be heard inside. Within Aodh was taken out onto the arena proper. Looking around he saw it was not overly big. It could have held a few hundred spectators, but not much more than that.
At the centre there were several Pure Bloods surrounding a pair who were locked in swordplay. Aodh was guided to the group but then forced to a stop on the edge with a tap of a spear. Looking around, he recognised Prince Vayne standing directly opposite him, he seemed to be the oldest of those present. The Prince only had eyes for the fighting and Aodh joined in with him and all the rest whose focus was firmly directly upwards.
He recognised both from the banquet. One he knew came from House Mezal, the other’s he was unsure of but he remembered him standing out because of his size. He must have been seven foot and his arms and muscles bulged even in his armour. Of House Yadwe maybe.
They both carried twin swords, but their styles were evidently opposites. While the bigger Prince favoured heavy strikes and was obviously comfortable on the attack, Mezal moved with every blow, he too appeared comfortable, though in defence. They looked quite deadlocked. The speed was frightening, more than once Aodh lost sight of sword and even the wielders themselves.
With a sudden twist, Prince Mezal launched himself up, his wings unfurling instantly to send him flying out of danger. The larger Prince only waited a moment before doing just the same, charging up after him. Whatever hope he’d had on the ground, Aodh found it even more of a challenge to follow the fight above it. He looked on wide-eyed, he had always thought Foxlings fast, and considered himself to be also. Now however the true speed and strength of the Princes was being laid bare before him.
Once more he hoped never to have to face one in combat.
The two combatants flew back and forth over them, eventually however the larger got the upper hand. Pushing in close he lashed out with a savage backhand.
Aodh looked around in shock as the larger Princes blade slashed deep across Prince Mezal's shoulder. He went spinning down, landing with a hard thud on the ground, barely managing to use his wings to halt his sudden descent.
As the larger Prince landed down victorious Aodh looked on in confusion as Mezal lay blood-splattered on the ground before him. The black blood came gushing out of the significant wound but even as he watched it began to subside and very quickly stopped. Frowning Aodh was about to question just how he could heal so rapidly when his eyes found the Prince's swords. Now out of his hands they slowly crumbled until there was nothing left but dust.
Clearly the swords were intended solely for training, blades magically altered to allow for a fight as close to reality as possible. The wounds no doubt likewise magically created to emphasise one’s mistakes. All no doubt highly effective for training one’s skills. Such techniques would be of great use to the Manor if he could ever convince the Vampirii to allow them. Though even as the thought crossed his mind he dismissed it. The Pure Bloods were not for sharing.
“Mezal you have been told.” Prince Vayne shook his head as he came to help the young Prince up. “You must not only work backwards, you have to attack when you see opportunity to do so. You will not hurt him enough to keep him off you. Eventually he will break through. And you Renda, your attacks were well placed. But do not be so reckless, were Maran more aware he would have found your neck as you flew after him. Press the attack but circle up to him, do not always go so direct.”
Vayne glanced over at Aodh. “We have done enough for this morning, we’ll continue later. Return to the palace and see to it you find your studies. You will be tested.”
The young Vampirii left the older Prince with bows and a great deal of reverence Aodh saw.
“Ah Foxling,” Prince Vayne gestured for the guards and they retreated back to the edge of the arena.
“You are likely wondering why you are here? Do not be alarmed, we will not be fighting.”
“I wouldn’t mind if we were. It would be an honour-”
“No. No it wouldn’t I assure you. Neither for you nor for me. You are here because you will need to blend in if you are to have any hope of surviving within Cathach’s city. His Burned men will have trust in their Ruler’s ability to detect any intruders, and you will bear his mark. But it is essential you do all you can to avoid suspicion. I have fought many Burned men. I have killed thousands and I know them more than anyone. I will teach you how to be one, to stand, fight and look like another of the Dragonlord’s soldiers.”
“You wish to train me? Forgive me, but I believe I can replicate the moves of slave soldiers. I can manage.”
“You think there is a choice. Do you know how much we are risking even getting you to the Dragon lands? You will do as we say. As I say. Now draw your sword and take this shield. I will show you how to wield both as they do. We’ll move on to the spear after.”
“You will show me how to wield a sword?” Aodh laughed and raised his hands. He might have been more approachable to the idea of training for his future mission, but the Prince’s attitude annoyed him. He already wanted to be away from the place.
“Listen Prince, I may not be a Pureblood Vampir, but I know how to wield a sword.”
“I know. I watched you fight Lusdan’s half blood. You move well, and fight well. But you will need to reign in each one of your natural instincts, to realign your body to be in sync with those you will soon call comrades.”
“You saw me? How?”
“From above, I did not need to be close to it. I saw all I needed.
You are fast, too fast for a human. These Burned men are still that, still human in many ways. They are strong, reliable. They are moved by their training and endless drilling. They move as one unit, a methodical, functional machine. You will need to do likewise, to move as if you were one of many, not an individual.”
Aodh sighed, “You believe this necessary?”
“Yes. You must arouse no suspicions. The Burned Men are many pieces of Cathach’s mind. What they think so too can he. Should they suspect you then so too will he. We will do all we can to prepare you and your disguise, it will be convincing. But were he to examine you closely then it would not take him long. And once Cathach detects you, well….”
“Then I either kill a DragonLord, or I die.”
The Prince raised his brows, “No or. You die. That only.”
Aodh wiped a hand across his eyes. “The sword first then?”
“The sword first. And shield.” With a casual flick Vayne tossed him a shield lying next to him. Aodh caught it with one hand and was surprised to find himself almost stumbling.
“It’s heavy.”
“As we give our thralls some strength, however small, so too do the Dragonkin to their own Burned Men. They are human, though with some bit extra. Now, move as I do. No, not sideways, forward. Imagine there are a thousand men either side of you. You are covering their left and they are covering yours. Yes, like that.”
Vayne had not lied, the curbing of his more natural instincts was indeed a challenge. Aodh knew he was supposed to remain in place, just another one of many. But the style was so alien to him, so much different from everything that he’d ever been taught that it took far more time than he would have imagined before he felt confident replicating Vayne’s own movements. He for his part moved with a grace and fluidity that was at odds with what he was instructing him. Yet when he needed to he perfectly demonstrated the strict, tight steps of a compact soldier.
Despite the strangeness of having to slow down his strikes, of having to make them more predictable and formal, Aodh soon began to enjoy the work. It had been a long time since he had practised in such a deep way. He focused on Prince Vayne, he moved as he did and became more comfortable with both shield and sword in hand. By the time they were finished he felt he was indeed moving more as a soldier than assassin, he still longed to add to the single thrusts and swipes but if he was to be a Burned man that would not to. To protect the whole he must sacrifice anything deemed a risky attack. He quickly began to understand that. Though he didn’t like the style, it was enjoyable learning a new one. Prince Vayne was curt, but his criticism was always followed by worthy instruction. By the end of their training Aodh had almost come to enjoy the Prince’s constant directions and commands.
After a last slow march across the grounds, thrusting, jabbing as if in a shield wall Vayne nodded and waved Aodh over to sit down.
Aodh followed him, thankful to be out of the morning moon’s glare. Already the lack of sun was becoming familiar to him. He could quite easily discern the difference between the early and later moons. Vayne did not seem in the least perturbed by their training, not a single strand of his long silver hair was out of place.
The half blood guards too had not moved. They remained standing in one position, oblivious to fatigue. He was grateful when the Prince motioned for one to approach them. Aodh was handed a water flask, thirsty, from both training and the night before, he drank deeply.
“It is only a start, you will need to continue to drill the same moves over and over again. But you will manage.”
Aodh nodded, “They will not detect me for my use of their weapons I assure you.”
A silence fell. Aodh leaned back, “This is not the first time you have tried to infiltrate a DragonLord’s city, yes? I would very much like to know what you have tried before, how did it fail, and why.”
Vayne nodded, “A worthy question,” he sighed, “We have always sought information on our homeland. Mostly that came from costly and precarious voyages to their lands. Voyages where we were immediately on the defensive, hunted down from the moment we landed, before even. The Dragons have maintained watches all along their coast ever since they first drove us from the Continent. Even with one single ship it is no easy task to get safely onto land. That is, if one survives the crossing, most don’t.”
Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.
Vayne laughed at Aodh’s expression, “As you can tell, it is no easy task we set ourselves. Yet since the Dragons move on Orbran we have no option. They have designs on these lands. How much, and when we do not know. There is too much we do not know. The DragonLords have their fort at Mohier in a place we cannot easily get to nor destroy. So it is that they have a foothold, however small, on our land while we have nothing in theirs. We must change that somehow. We must learn about them and their movements. You will help us do that.”
“The Endless Seas. You have seen them?”
Vayne nodded, “I have. I have been back to our homeland since our retreat Foxling. I know what is required. Just as I know how difficult it is. Even with our ships, there is no guarantee of success. You are aware of that? Your leader Desra informed you of what to expect?”
“He did,” Aodh lied, he would not say anything against Desra, not to those who might use it against him. In truth he knew little of the Endless Seas. No one other than the Vampirii had ever sailed across it during their evacuation. And if the legends were true then they had lost more than half their fleet in the process. Though many had tried, human, elf, dwarf it made no difference. The Seas consumed most all which thought to roam its waters.
“Come, you should go rest. Tonight you will be brought before the Council once more. It is time for you to receive the mark Foxling. Rest, for you may need it.”
“It will be like the real thing you said.”
“Yes, those who created the spell have said as much.”
“But I will survive it. I will not be killed in some mix up.”
Vayne got back to his feet and made a sign for the guards to approach him. “Do not worry Foxling. In truth it is us who should be worried. It would be far worse for us if you died. We have not the time to wait for another before the Seas freeze over. We need it to work.”
“Yes,” Aodh spoke slowly, trying to catch the eyes of the Prince, “Though my life being at stake, I would have to disagree, I think it is more important for me that your spellmasters are correct in their calculations.”
“Good, then we are on the same page.”
Vayne was already walking away before Aodh had a chance to respond.
“Rest Foxling. Rest and drink water. I will see you tonight.”
Aodh was left alone with the half bloods. He thought about trying to follow the Prince, a little more reassuring would have been a comfort. But the five guards were already around him. He had little option but to obey their prompt to head out.
He was taken directly back to his guest quarters.
When they were back in sight of his palace he smiled at the sight of Leniseh approaching him. Three other young Princesses were with her. Aodh was busy trying to think of something clever to say, it needed to be clever when she was with her friends. Impressing one female was no easy task, impressing three female friends together was almost impossible.
He was still trying to think of something as they passed, he was about to call out an extravagant greeting, nothing else had came to mind but Leniseh made no sign that she saw him. Like the others all she offered was a glance before going back to their discussions. Aodh had to hurriedly close his mouth and return his gaze to his front. Seeing as he had not thought of anything to say it might have been fortunate he had not spoken out. Yet the fact that Leniseh had not even acknowledged him annoyed him more than he would have liked. She is only one lady, Princess or not, he reminded himself. It was not worth worrying over. Instead he focused on something that was worthy of worry. That of being burned by dragonfire, or the feeling of it at least.
Back at his quarters he washed, cleaned himself and sat down to his meal. He felt an uneasiness for what was to happen. But if it was necessary for the contract then what choice did he have.
He stayed by the table, having a second cup of the fine Tralorian wine to help relax his fears. When the call came he answered it almost immediately, whatever was going to happen he wanted it to happen now. He was tired of worrying and wondering about what it would be. He wanted it over with.
He needed no encouragement from the guards this time. The three chosen to escort him led him all the way to the Council chambers. There he was met by two young Princes. One was from House Marresda, the other from House Yehva. The two had been present at the party last night. Aodh remembered particularly the Prince Marresda, he had drunk more blood and wine than most, and by the time Aodh was leaving had begun to dance with a sort of reckless provocation with all and any Princesses he came across.
Both men communicated silently with the guards and they handed over Aodh into the care of the two Princes.
“And now to be burned.”
“Do not worry Foxling, whatever they do after surviving Leniseh I’m sure you’ll manage.” Marresda grinned back at him as they headed into the depths of the Council Halls.
“Besides I thought you Foxlings were good with pain, being half beasts shouldn’t you be able to deal with a little burn.”
“A little burn?” Aodh scoffed at Yehva’s underplaying of his ordeal, deciding to ignore the fact the Princes know about him and Leniseh. “And have you felt the touch of a Dragon’s flame?”
“No,” Yehva admitted, “though I am sure I would bear it should it come to it.”
“Well for your sake I hope you get the opportunity to prove those words. I would be glad to see how well you deal with the prospect not as a mere spectator, but as the receiver. I assure you it is different Prince, it is easy be brave to something you know is not for you.”
“Watch it Foxling, you are to face a mock Dragon flame, you do not want to add Tralor steel to your trial.”
“After facing Dragon fire you’ll forgive me for not being too worried by your threat.”
“Enough.” Marresda intervened, “We are here, do not enter bickering like children.”
Aodh grimaced but relented from any more words as the doors to the Councils were opened and he was thrust once more out into the floor before them.
“You are ready Foxling. You know what is required.” Prince Azareel leaned down to him.
“Yes.”
Aodh saw no reason to protest now, he had come too far for any second thoughts. He had placed his trust in the Vampirii, however much that worried him he would go through with it.
“Then let us proceed.”
Aodh was thankful that it was only the Heads of the Twenty themselves who were present. Whatever happened only they would see the results. Aodh did not wish for Leniseh, or indeed anyone else to see what was about to happen.
From another door to the left of him three Vampirs emerged. They were all garbed in similar attire, all wore long, flowing black cloaks. They no doubt were the alchemists to which he was putting so much faith in, Pure Bloods of magical renown.
The one at their centre came forward towards him. He carried in his hand a small beaker, inside the glass container could see a black liquid. It hissed, and appeared to be bubbling.
Aodh picked up on the scent the moment the doors entered. To his mind there was already a smell of burning.
He coughed and glanced back up at the Princes, “And you are sure that this will not be a true mark. That it is only an illusion. A powerful one. But one that can be removed. You are absolutely certain of this, yes. Yes?”
“We are sure Aodh Rua,” Prince Vayne’s words from above offered comfort, but Aodh felt little of it. Vayne must have noticed as much.
“Trust us. There is no doubt. It is an illusion, nothing more nothing less. Drink. This is the next step in your contract. The contract you have sworn to undertake, for us. And on behalf of Desra and the Foxling Dynasty.”
His words appealed to him, Aodh again felt the burde of expectation on him. He knew that Vayne would say whatever was needed to ensure cooperation but his words held weight. The Prince was right, whatever his motives, the burning was the next step.
“Quickly then.” Aodh forced himself to keep his eyes open. He would not show the fear and horror he felt inside.
The lead alchemist was a professional, he wasted no time on theatrics but came and with one hand raised Aodh’s face. With the other he lifted up the glass.
Aodh closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
And then it hit him.
He had always thought himself strong. The trials of a Foxling were no minor things, it was not without a great deal of strength and mental resolve that one passed through it. Aodh had always felt he’d managed the pains and tribulations better than most. In whatever punishment or suffering he’d faced he had always done so somberly, without undue complaint.
Now he screamed. Harder than he had ever screamed.
He felt every drop of the liquid as it flowed over him, his skincracked, swelled and exploded. His entire body shook and seemed to be melting into a pool of liquid. The fire was all consuming, it was all over him, it was inside of him. His body was no more, he and the flames combined into one agonising mass of overwhelming heat.
Desperate, he tried to open his eyes, to cry out.
He only wanted reprieve, he did not care how. He only wanted the pain to be taken away from him. The contract, Vampirii, Dragons, none of it mattered. Only the pain.
The suddenness of the pain had shocked him, when that pain did suddenly disappear from him he was equally as shocked. He sucked in gulps of deep breaths, the air torn out of his body. He felt himself, there were no flames, and there was skin. It hadn’t, as it had keenly sensed, peeled and flowed off him. He was whole. Apart from dry lips he felt nothing. Only the memory of the pain remained. That he would not forget. Dragonfire was something he did not ever want to experience again.
Opening his eyes he saw the alchemist, and a little further back the Princes staring at him. Slowly Aodh got back to his feet.
Old Feergar pointed down at him triumphantly, “See, I told you it would work. A perfect illusion.”
Aodh did not fail to pick up on the fact that there had obviously been some who hadn’t thought it would work. Though in truth he wasn’t sure if knowing that beforehand would have been a good thing.
The lead alchemist handed Aodh a new beaker, he took it but paused with it to his lips.
“It is just water Foxling, nothing more.”
Aodh had a quick taste, and seeing that it was just that he drank deeply, downing almost the entire bottle before he felt content.
“It worked then?”
Prince Grunvar nodded, “It worked, Foxling. To any untrained eyes you are now a Burned Man. And have the exact appearance of one.”
Aodh shook his head, looking down at himself he saw no change. But that was the purpose of an illusion after all.
“It had to be so real?”
“I am afraid so.” This time the alchemist answered, “For it was only by your real pain and suffering that the spell was complete. Had it been imitation then Cathach or any other of the Dragonkin would no doubt see through it.”
“I shall take your word for it.”
Aodh was helped to his feet, though he felt no pain, he was exhausted.
Prince Vayne ordered three of the guards over to him.
“Go Aodh, back to your chambers. You will need rest. We must soon depart from Tralor and begin the journey to the Partholon. You will be given time to recover yourself, but we must soon depart. It is a four day journey to the coast, for you at least, and we must accompany you. You have bravely done what has been asked of you so far. But soon your real mission will begin. So rest.”
Aodh raised his eyes wearily, he didn’t speak but settled for nodding instead. Slowly he was led back out of the chambers and into the corridors. The walk back to his own rooms was a struggle, tired as he was he did not want to show it. With a great deal of effort he followed his guard. They appeared to recognise his struggles at least, and their pace reflected it. He was glad of that fact.
He could not remember the last time he was so pleased to see a bed once he was safely returned to his home. He neither bothered to remove his clothes or weapons. He only wanted rest for now. Only that.