Chapter 378 - The War of the Vampires part 1

"The God King has captured the Tanti!"

I would have said my blood ran cold were it not already ice water in my veins. It was the last thing I expected her to say and the last thing I wanted to hear. It felt like the whole world had been jerked out from under me, and the hand I had placed upon her shoulder to comfort her I now used to keep myself from swaying.

The God King had captured the Tanti!

I did not ask if she was certain of it. Of course, she was certain of it. She had seen it through the telepathic link she shared with her twin sister, a link that could only be triggered by extreme emotional distress. Shock. Horror. Grief. Instead, I questioned her, for the connection was only active for a short duration. I had moments, at best, to get as much information from her sister as I could.

"Do they still live?" I asked. "Does he have them all? What is he planning to do with them?"

I was not speaking to Aioa but through her to her sister Irema, whom we had sent to Fen'Dagher to spy for us.

Aioa turned her head-- looking in the direction of Fen'Dagher, I presume— her face taut, the muscles standing out in her long pale neck. The emerald light of the aurora borealis glimmered in her pupils. Green fire above. Green fire in her eyes.

"Yes," she said after a moment. "He has them all. He knows who they are. He is having a stockade built to hold them. He… he has already crucified some of them! The ones who took the Blood. The fighters." All at once, she cried out in despair, her body quaking: "Meegan! Oh, grandfather, he has my daughter!" She collapsed into my arms, sobbing. The link was broken.

I held her tight, stroking her hair as she cried into my chest, her body trembling. I tried my best to console her: "We shall return home. We shall gather our forces and march on Uroboros. We will save our people from the God King."

"There are already so many dead," she sobbed. "My daughter!"

Even running at top speed, we were two weeks journey from Asharoth. Then we would have to consolidate our forces. They were spread across half of Eastern Europe, protecting our kingdom. That would take another fortnight, and then we must cross the vast steppes that girdled the stronghold of our enemy-- fighting the God King's forces the entire way, no doubt. The Tanti were at the God King's mercy, and Khronos, we all knew, was a merciless being.

My people are lost, I thought.

I held Aioa, trying to encourage her as best I could, but everything I said tasted of lies. The whole time I was trying to comfort her, I was thinking, My people are lost. My people are lost. Trying to accept it. Trying to overcome my own feelings of loss. There was no time for this. No time for mourning or regret. I had duties to perform, people to lead, and I had to do it with as clear a head as possible.

It was hard. I wanted to beat my breast, rage and weep. But I could not. I could not give in as I had done so many times before, as I had done when they took the life of my headstrong Ilio. I could not allow this to break me. There were too many lives at stake. A world to be lost… or saved.

Could the Tanti be saved?

I cannot save them all, I said to myself. But perhaps I can save some of them.

Even one would be a miracle.

"Listen to me, granddaughter," I said to Aioa. "Your daughter lives, and where there is life, there is hope. But we must be strong. You must be strong. For your daughter. For Meegan. Do you hear me?"

She pulled away from me, looked at me with hopeless eyes. Finally, hesitantly, she nodded. She wiped the blood tears from her cheeks, drew herself up.

"You are right, grandfather," she said with a sniff. "I am sorry."

"Never apologize," I said, helping her to her feet. "Not for love. I will do everything in my power to save the Tanti. To save your daughter. But we do not have the luxury of tears. Not anymore. If we are to save them, even just one, we must harden our hearts. We must put aside our gentler concerns. Our mortal concerns. We must become gods of war. For only a god can defeat a god."

The others had gathered around while I consoled my granddaughter. Sunni and Eris, Drago, Rayna... They had encircled us protectively, their faces somber. Even Drago, who lived only for battle, partook of our grief.

Sunni, the immortal child, stepped forward to stroke Aioa's arm. The little Eternal smiled up at my grandchild, face dirty as always, hair all a-tangle. "I will help you save your daughter," she said.

"And I," Eris said.

"I, as well," said Rayna.

The others echoed the sentiment after their own fashions. Vehnfear wagged his tail and barked.

Aioa nodded to them gratefully, each in their turn. Returning at last to me, she threw back her shoulders with a sniff, the arctic wind whipping through her dark curls. Her eyes blazed green fire. "Well?" she said, with as much bravado as she could muster. "What are we waiting for, old man?"