Chapter 18 The Sleeping Ones
A miracle.
Lucius was still in shock when the parents hugged their son in exultant tears, and the doctors and the shamans stood agape. He watched the whole scene, wondering if it was a dream until Dorian gently touched his shoulder.
“You ok?”
Lucius nodded, “I think so?”
“What did you do?” Dorian regarded him astounded.
“I...um...I prayed.”
“And God answered?”
“I don’t know....” Lucius didn’t feel happy about it as he should have. He had this sinking feeling in his stomach that he had done something that he would regret profoundly in the future.
Because he was sure it wasn’t God who answered his prayer.
Who was that presence that haunted his dream when he almost died from feeding Dorian? He thought it was only a dream or a delusion, but why did he pray to the voice in the moment of exigency? And worst of all, why did it answer his entreaty?
The rest of the night went by in a blur. Lucius remembered many people talking to him, but he couldn’t recollect his reply. His legs hurt like hell, his throat dry and burning as if he hadn’t drunk a drop of water for days, and his head light and dizzy. Thankfully Dorian noticed his exhaustion and made an excuse for them to retire.
“I need a bath,” Lucius told Dorian once they returned to the lodge. He sank into the steamy water, letting the warmth alleviate the soreness of the muscles and closed his eyes, trying to lose his tightened nerves.
But he couldn’t relax. How could he when something so strange that completely altered his worldview just happened?
He didn’t believe in god or miracles. He had thought that the “miracle” Julian performed was just some sheer coincidence. Maybe the little girl was about to get better anyway, and she just happened to recover after his prayers. Or perhaps the doctors gave her the wrong diagnosis. There were many ways to explain it. But now, he wasn’t so sure anymore.
When that crazed, half-corpse werewolf pounced at him, when his life was about to end, he could feel a pull similar to what he felt that night as Dorian drank his blood to the extent that he knew his life was slipping away.
“Some say twins are one person’s soul split into two, one divine, the other evil. Which one are you, Lucius?”
Lucius still remembered that voice clearly, accompanied by a strange itchy feeling deep inside his body, like many tiny hands tickling the inside of his veins. He ran his left hand over his dew-covered chest, recalling the hot, wet tentacles in that dream coiling around his body, slithered under his shirt and rubbing his nipple. He let out a shaky moan as he tilted his head backward, resting on the tub’s edge.
His right hand wrapped around his hardened cock, and he wasn’t sure if he was already in the dream again, but he could feel the snaky tentacles crawling up his ankles, shins, and thighs, titillating his entrance. His lips were open, and his face flushed as the electricity of pleasure continuously built up.
But then a knock on the door interrupted everything.
“Is everything ok?” Dorian’s voice sounded hesitant.
Lucius snapped back to reality and sat straight up from the embrace of the water. He lost time, and the water was only lukewarm now.
“Um, yeah. I will be out soon.“He said embarrassingly.
Lucius quickly dried himself, wrapped the bathrobe around his body, and opened the door. Dorian reposed on the couch with a glass of blood in hand, reading something on a laptop. He regarded Lucius with such an odd expression.
“Volke will send his guards to convoy us to Lord Durchville’s manor tomorrow,” said Dorian.
Lucius avoided his gaze, “oh really? That’s great.”
“Do you want to talk about what happened today?”
“Not really.”
“Ok.” Dorian turned his eyes back to the screen, “after today, no one will doubt your identity anymore. It’s a good thing.”
“Is that all you care about?“Lucius glared at him.
“You are unharmed, and Volke owes you a great debt. The result is better than I expected. Is there anything else I should worry about?” Dorian answered calmly, didn’t even look up.
Lucius rolled his eyes and stormed into the bedroom, unsure why he was so pissed about Dorian’s attitude.
Lord Durchville sent soldiers to meet the werewolves’ convoy halfway to escort Dorian and Lucius back to vampire territory. And three hours later, when the last sunlight sunk under the horizon, they finally arrived at the Durchville family’s feud, Sparrowmoor.
The city had been fending off werewolves’ attacks for months, and many were wounded or killed in the strife. Therefore, a stagnant and bleak air haunted everyone’s countenance. The buildings were still magnificent and historical, but a mood of gray and loss enveloped every brick and beam like an exhausting man after a long, strenuous battle.
The Durchville manor nestled at the foot of a verdant hill, surrounded by luxuriate maple and linden. The moss-stained ancient walls were covered by a thick blanket of ivy. The towers and pinnacles pointed sharply toward the sky. A moat surrounded the historical estate, and many garrison soldiers patrolled around it.
Once they got out of the car, myriads flashlights of all sorts of media assailed them and immediately gave Lucius a headache, but he still managed to slap on a charming smile and wave. He didn’t sleep well the last day, so he hoped people wouldn’t pay too much attention to the dark circles under his eyes.
Dorian walked one step ahead of him. He was in a black velvet suit and looked especially glamorous and graceful. He paused briefly in front of all the media and put his arms on Lucius’s back, pulling him closer to his body while giving him a dazzling smile that Lucius had never seen privately. Lucius was slightly caught off guard, but he soon understood that Dorian was just trying to show the world how “in love” they were.
“You are so natural at this,” Lucius whispered through his feigned smiling lips.
And Dorian replied in the same quiet voice, “it’s what I’ve been practicing my whole life. ”
Many journalists were shouting questions, and one of them managed to get close enough that her voice stood out, “Prince Dorian, were the werewolves responsible for the assassination?”
Dorian looked at her and answered, “the attackers were werewolves, but we do not know which organization is behind it. But I am sure The Guardians have nothing to do with it since they have been sheltering us for the past several days.”
“How did you survive the attack?” Another voice asked.
Dorian turned the questioner and replied solemnly, “unfortunately, all of the guards convoying us are tragically killed. I could terminate most of them, but I couldn’t catch anyone alive because I was also gravely wounded. If not for my consort, I won’t be standing here today.”
Lucius did not expect Dorian to suddenly mention him and was flustered a little when all the attention of the journalists shifted toward him.
“Consort Julian, how do you feel about living in Eternia?”
“Are you worried about your safety?”
“Do you still consider yourself ‘the angel of God’ since you broke your vow?”
“Will you consider turning into a vampire?”
A barrage of questions bombed him from every direction, and Lucius couldn’t even hear them clearly. He maintained his smile and replied as loud as possible, “I am still God’s servant in my heart, but Prince Dorian has been very attentive, patient, and considerate with me. I am truly grateful for it.”
“What do you want to say to the Churches, your King, and your parents?” Another one asked.
Lucius didn’t flinch, “I want them to know, do not worry about me. I will try my best not to let them down.”
Dorian glanced at Lucius, wondering if there was a layer of sarcasm under Lucius’s calm tone. However, he had to admit Lucius’s performance in front of the cameras exceeded his expectations. His version of Julian was innocent but charming, and the smile was preprocessing and disarming even by vampire standards.
He wondered how Lucius really felt about being sent here in his brother’s place because he was not as precious and important. Was he angry? Despair? Despondent? Jealous? Did he hate his parents and Julian? If so, why was he still trying so hard?
And how his parents, the Churches and the King would feel when they heard about the miracle Lucius performed for the young werewolf man?
Was that even a real miracle? Why wasn’t Lucius happy about the outcome?
The guards began to disburse the media and led them to the main house.
The whole Durchville family came out to welcome them. Lord Durchville looked in his late thirties, spruce and dapper like a gentleman from an older time. He was greatly relieved upon seeing a mostly unscathed Dorian, as he would have been in great trouble if the court decided to blame the Crown Prince’s disappearance on him.
Dorian wanted a private discussion about the new alliance and their strategy in the negotiation right away, so Lucius was left with Lady Lilian Durchville. She was a beautiful woman with chestnut, long wavy hair, and cerulean eyes.
She gave Lucius a tour of the manor, giving him a brief introduction to the family estate’s history. Durchville family was one of the oldest houses in Eternia, and their bloodline was pure and stayed true to their Elder, Hecate the Witch, and rarely mixed their blood with other elder lines. Sions in their line were often talented in witchcraft, like casting curses and hexes or reading the fortune through a medium.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.
Lilian was the very definition of a witch. Beautiful, stylish, and confident, always carrying a seductive aura. She stole many glances from Lucius during the tour, curious about the first human consort in Eternia’s history.
“I heard that you performed a miracle for The Guardians. Is it true?” She asked as they strolled into the forest.
“Words travel fast.” Lucius said dryly, covering his uneasiness with modesty, “I suppose I did.”
“So you can really hear God talking to you?”
“Sometimes. When he chooses to.”
“What does he sound like?”
Lucius smiled gently at her and repeated his brother’s words, “I can’t describe, but it was the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.”
“How do you know it is not your own imagination? Many schizophrenia patients also hear voices.”
Lucius chuckled. That was exactly the same thought he had about his brother. Turns out the vampires were much better critical thinkers.
Alas, he was his brother now, “because I couldn’t have been able to imagine a voice like that. You can’t imagine something beyond your comprehension, can you?”
Lilian bit her lips flirtatiously, “very interesting argument, your holiness.”
“Please don’t call me that. I’m no longer the High Priest of Anthor.”
“Well, your God doesn’t seem to agree.”
Presently they come to the end of the leaves-covered path, and a moss-dappled cliff was erected in front of them. A cataract hung over it like a long, shimmering white silk, pouring into the emerald pond. A heavy, solemn, and desolating-looking arch door was etched into the cliff next to the fall, and the only access was several big and flat rocks protruding from the pond.
“Where is that door leading to?” Lucius asked curiously.
“That is the only place you shouldn’t go near in this estate. None of us gets too close to the Sleeping Chamber.“Lilian warned, “the door won’t open anyway. It has been sealed and can only be opened with a certain ritual.”
“Why? What’s in there?”
“The Sleeping Ones.“Lilian answered in a boding tune, “Durchville family has been living here for a very, very long time, and before us, some ancestors decided that they’ve lived long enough, and they entered it, sealed the door, and never came out again.”
“Are they dead?”
“Probably not. They are just sleeping. We don’t know how many Durchville ancestors are sleeping in there. Some of them could be as old as the First Generation.”
“And what happens if someone wakes them up?”
“Who knows. Vampires who have been sleeping for too long cannot differentiate dreams from reality and often become unpredictable and dangerous, and because the older a vampire is, the more powerful they become, who knows what kind of hell the Sleeping Ones will unleash? I heard about a vampire king who slept for a thousand years, and when he was woken up by some devotees who worshiped him as a god, he went mad and blood-bathed a city overnight, and the only survivor was a little human girl. She was also scared into madness and kept telling the same horror story about that night over and over for decades until she died in an asylum.”
“So...they are like timed bombs?” Lucius remarked astonishingly, “if they don’t want to live anymore, why didn’t they just...end themselves?”
“Tsk tsk, are you advocating for suicide? I thought it is a sin for you God-fearing believers.”
“But vampires are not believers, are you?”
“Well, I guess sleeping forever is a bit different than non-existence. The latter cannot be reversed. Also, according to your Scripture, we damned ones won’t be going anywhere pleasant after death. Some of us are superstitious, and we try our best to postpone our inevitable fall into perdition.”
“But what if this place falls into the wrong people’s hands?”
“Then the enemy will pay the price. Wouldn’t that be good?“Lilian winked at him.
Lucius gave one more glance at the heavy stone doors. According to the intelligence of Anthor, the First Generation are the ones who were turned by the Elders personally. Hence, they have the strongest connection to the Elders.
If he could find one First Generation, he might discover more clues leading him to the Elders.
Lilian led him to the suit prepared for him and Dorian. The living room and bedroom were thoughtfully warm, higher than the coolness vampires used to. The bed was enormous with four stately poles, big enough for four people to sleep on.
Lilian presented the bed and grinned playfully, “I personally chose the bedding. They are all incensed with rose and musk oil that can add more excitement to your...private entertainments.”
Lucius faked embarrassment and bashfulness by averting his eyes and stuttering a little, “um...thank you.”
“You must be exhausted after the whole werewolf mishap. Gosh, I can’t imagine how dreadful to be trapped with those beasts.”
“It was actually not bad. They were quite hospitable once they knew we were not enemies.”
“Still, I will leave you to rest. Let the valet or any servant know if you need anything.“She paused at the door and added, “oh and try not to go to the dungeons, and don’t mind if you hear some noises. We often feed meat to some orge hordes there.”
Not long after she left, Lucius heard the “noise.” A long, ear-piercing scream, full of horror and agony. It lasted for about five minutes and gradually died off.
How ironic. Lucius had no doubt the term “meat” meant some human slaves. He was supposed to be “safe” now. He started to wonder if it was better to stay with the werewolves...at least they seemed to only eat humans on rare and special occasions...
Why are humans so weak compared to all these supposedly “damned ones”? If they are truly loved by God, then why are they the helpless prey of all the devils’ progenies?
He was sick of such a feeling. Weak, under the mercy of some stronger, more powerful beings, cannot even walk the hallway without worrying about being attacked by a random passerby.
Perhaps what the Churches and the King told him before he departed for Eternia were right. The only way for humans to live without fear was to bring all of them down. To make them as weak and helpless as all humans.
But then what? Would humans be better than them, given the power?