A visit to the crypt

The visitor poured through the castle gate in an elegant and composed posture. She looked around seeking the owner of the building. She brought gold and silver and polished steel, two strong vampire lords and three common human slaves to feed on them the time she would spend in that abandoned castle. Over her head, her crown emblazoned the bat of the royals.

Duncan carefully watched as he knew many of the riders. There was Duke Baldassare Ingrum, one of the eight seat holders in the Ambrosia with hair as bright as the shining sun and eyes as green as the old nature, with a symbol of snake on his ring, and there was Vorigan Warren with his terrible burnt face and blazing red eyes, one of the eight seat holders with the symbol of a stag. The tall figure beside the Ambrosia was certainly her exclusive maid Valeria and the short one was undoubtedly her cook. The last one with her head down fixing the ground was the blood bag.

Yet, the Ambrosia with her stunning attitude and eyes that pierced the surroundings threatening to flood everything with an ocean of blood and martyr, seemed so foreign to Duncan's eyes. He watched her as she vaulted from the back of her horse and looked him in the eyes. He was as cold as she saw him the first time, without any hint of hate or abhorrent. Her hands killed his parents and waved mercy at him.

"It's good to see this face of yours, Duncan. It's good to see the castle I decided to abandon in a good state. You did a great job," her eyes rolled over the top to the bottom. "You haven't changed at all. I didn't see you for quite some human years and you still have the same charm."

Five years had passed since his parents died and he was forced to the path of an executioner. When he was thrown inside a steeled cage and pulled to the Empress side, the lord of the storm had sent his thunder striking loudly and the lord of the wind had made a storm turning the whole city into a deserted place. He knew it was the work of her servants; sacrificing humans to get enough mana to create a storm and push people inside their respective abodes. It was a time he would never forget as long as he lived.

Even when she showered, cleaning her body thoroughly, the smell of blood and had clung to her like perfume. Now, as she was coming closer to him, he noticed the perfume that fused with the smell of blood. It was a mixture of vanilla specifically made for her.

"The Seymour is yours. Your Grace," he said with a bow carefully practiced for days. If it wasn't for Baldassare, he wouldn't know she was coming to visit her old haunted castle.

By then, the others were dismounting as well and the slaves followed as broken as they always were. Baldassare embraced Duncan like he was a long lost brother while Vorigan gave him a hard handshake expecting him to kneel from pain. However, Duncan stared at him with murderous eyes making him shudder for a while. The man retracted his hands and followed the Empress inside.

As the formalities of greeting completed, Duncan joined he Empress as she walked knowing her way. "Do you know where I am going?" she said with her melodious voice. He shook his head discreetly but she caught the gist of it. "There is under this castle. I used to visit it more often but I grew tired of it. Today was a good day. I felt the need to come again."

Duncan hated her for everything she did; she acted as nothing happened after all these years. He called for a lantern but soon remembered vampires saw in the dark; he retracted his spell and moved forward. No other words were needed; he did exactly as she expected. They had been riding since the evening and they weren't tired. Vampires don't get tired easily. Duncan got curious about the crypt the Empress was talking about; he spent his first condemned days patching the castle into better. For some reason, he found it exquisite and welcoming. He didn't hate it.

Nevertheless, he had never seen something called the crypt. The Empress mentioned to the others to stay behind while she requested Duncan's presence. Vorigan tried to protest but the cold glare of her eyes made him step back a few inches while Baldassare sent a sneaky eye peek to the boy. They went down to the crypt together. As it was disrespectful to precede the Empress, he followed her from behind, going down winding narrow stone steps.

"Do you know what's beyond those walls, boy?" she snorted. "There are beasts and horrendous monsters. Do you why we are so few? And why I kept you instead of killing you? It would be good to leave our bloodline intact. Being pure vampires is a luxury."

"I heard those walls were made by you. Your Grace. It must have been hard building such high walls."

"Indeed. It was hard and it took days, months, years of fighting to keep the undead away. Do you know of the undead? You mustn't be. It was such a disgusting experience and a wide war. Everyone is for themselves. If you had lived outside, you would see Revampirina as heaven."

"I shudder to think about the possibility of losses."

"Losses? Such a joke coming from your mouth, lad. You never had the taste of summer, the warmth of its nights, and the sight of humans walking by the beach while they had so little garment over their bodies… It's a luxury. Living for such a long time, I don't dare remember anymore. The golden roses that stretched away as far as the eye could reach; the mellow fruits so ripe that they exploded in your mouth; the green lands sprayed over the ground making a carpet for our feet… Do you know these tastes boy? Do you like being a vampire boy?"

"I had never seen such things, your Majesty. I grew up only knowing the sight of black and white with a taint of grey then the colour of the sky. It was a blessing not knowing about them."

"Exactly… It's such a blessing you all have. Growing up never knowing such pleasures…" she sighed.

Duncan followed her after that wordlessly. It was always cold down there. Their footsteps echoed in the vault as his eyes jolted from the many tombs lying down there. It was the first time he had known he was living on top of a cemetery. There were names carved into the stones that sealed the tombs with different symbols showing the families they belonged to and the names that were lost in the realm of time.

By ancient customs, the tombs had swords sealing them. Vampires turned to ashes because they decayed quickly. The tombs were meant for a reason and it was quite dramatic. The Empress stopped in front of a nameless tomb. She caressed it with one hand and turned around it. Her eyes lingered on the stone as if the one who was there would come back to life and greet her. She wanted to remember who he was; he was her son but the face was unclear. It was like a curse. She loved him as a mother should. However, she didn't remember his face. All her memories of him have been faceless.

"Promise me, you would never touch her…" he begged on his knees. "Promise me, mother. She isn't someone bad. She is peculiar."

She turned to Duncan and stared at him with a face that shifted from grief to cold. "Do you know why I left you to live, child? You have a faint scent of his. You reminded me of him and this castle was where he was born: my son."

As she mentioned her son, Duncan felt surprised rising in him but he didn't show it. "No one would ever imagine you had a child your Grace."

"Indeed, no one. I don't remember his name, nor his face. It was my punishment for touching her. What do you think of a human that plays with lives? I hate anyone who uses my son. Yet, with killing her I lost him too. He just left and I only got his ashes. Even the old deities didn't answer me when I prayed. I don't believe in them anymore."

There was nothing Duncan could have said to that. After a quiet moment, he said, "Then why did you kill them?"

"Did the question burn your tongue for years? I spared once. I could spare again," she narrowed her eyes observing him then brought her hands to his face. He was as tall as her and it was surprising. She was an old being and old beings were taller. "The one who makes the rules need to swing the blade. I cannot have people disobeying me. There was enough bloodshed throughout the years. Give me your hand."

She injured her tongue slightly and bit his hand causing him to step back in pain. The spell travelled alongside his blood and reached his neck creating a black invisible rope binding him to her will. "I cannot have you disobeying me. It was such a long time since I felt this excited," she spat his blood feeling it rotten. "I don't like your blood. But I quite like you. I need you to pass the tests and reach the eights. I want you to be one of my people. Work hard lad."

She left as quickly as she came.