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The Calling - Blood and Snow 33.
Coughs of hopelessness echo through the frosted darkness, hanging chains, aged bars and the stench of rot sinking through the opening of a large metal box. Candles glow the sound of a quill scraping final thoughts into unrolled paper... Dear Veryth,As I write to you now, I fear you will never hear my last words. All I have ever known from you is love and care, trust and paitence. Everyday with you has been a blessing I have never diserved but have always needed. Closing my eyes your smile is all that keeps me sane in this madness. I know not if I will ever see you again or if you could ever forgive me for dying without saying goodbye as much as it hurts. I'm not much of a writer, never have been so do not look upon my simple words without understanding the love and sorrow between the lines.I don't know how long they have kept me here, I just know it's cold, dark and silent at all times. After all these years, we are finally expecting a baby but fate can be cruel. What once was my gr
The Calling - Blood and Snow 34.
"Think I should get a piercing or a tattoo?" Daniella asks. Rohain turns to face her, even through his helmet an expression of confusion and exclamation show through. "Too much?" "Why would you do such a thing?" Rohain asks as he dismounts Phantom. "I don't know, just to feel different I suppose. Something to represent all of this. A memento if you will." Rohain helps Daniella down. "Your hand is not enough?" Daniella looks at her bandage, turning her hand. "I want something that I have chosen, on my terms." "You do not need a reminder to represent hardship or triumph. The things that matter most, we carry in here." Rohain says while tapping his heart. "Are you sure you want to set up camp here? We are close." "They are forbidden from opening the city gates after nightfall." Phantom watches as Daniella pulls the wood bunch and lays it down before making a circle of rocks to set the fire. Rohain lays out the under-sheet and pegs it down. "Hand me those will you?" Daniel
The Calling - Blood and Snow 35.
By the roaring fire, Daniella and Rohain laugh over roasted rabbit and black coffee. "I've never seen a helmet have the faceplate lock forward before. It is rather clever." "Eating alone is not always an option. You learn to adapt." "You know, people will not judge you for breaking an oath you made voluntarily." "People always judge others, especially by their appearance." "Are you concerned people will judge you if you are ugly?" "No." Rohain leans in. "As you get older, you will notice how people become more interested in how you look than who you are." "People are so callous in reflection of my guise?" Daniella sighs. "It's human nature to judge by the apparent. People are judged so radically for their appearance despite it being the one thing about ourselves we control the least. Being pretty can be a curse just as much as disfigurement." "Why is the human race... ...so dogmatic?" Daniella questions, trying to hide a world of pain. "Most people are shallow, vile mons
The Calling - Blood and Snow 36.
Veryth is awoken from a dream of happyness by the song of rain echoing through harsh frost. Dreaming of her husbands warm arms, only to find Schenade has crawled into her bed again. Finally asleep after another late night, this is the only time Veryth does not need to hide her tears. - The darkness of home would be navigated with cautious strides to the lamps usually but even the darkest of corners appeared shaded in light. Water hissed in his ears and every droplet seemed to have its place as it ran red through his hold sharp fingers. Catching the icy water in his palm he gargles and throws the cold against his face, closing his eyes to flashbacks of failure, fear and blood. Taking his Miswaak(toothbrush) and openining his mouth he stands opposite his reflection - his reflection stares back judging and scolding. Burning eyes of bright amber stood a stark contrast to his ashen skin and black dishevelled hair, sharpened teeth as long as his nails; a far cry from the face his wife knew
The Calling - Blood and Snow 37.
The harp of morn serenaded a sleeping camp of silver warriors. Through frosted nights the hunters moved, unknowing of what pursued them by day. Vampire killers - The Legion of Dawn as they were known, armoured and well prepared for all creatures of magic and darkness but, young Dolkan, was human. Ambition, pride, power, a promise. Proving himself worthy of the dark gift and a worthy successor to the throne, he took an oath to destroy the greatest threat to the immortal kingdom. Black oak tablets lay the perimeter like dominoes carved with runes of protection, impossible for vampires, wraiths or ghouls to cross. No mortal would dare attack a camp of well-trained soldiers with nothing but steel to gain. The tiger is hunted not for its fur but for its claws, but, The Legion of Dawn were no mere tigers. Of the nine tents facing the fire, eight lay occupied. Day watch makes his circles atop the mount with vigilance and poise, taking no second for rest. Heavily armoured, armed with a mace
The Calling - Blood and Snow 38.
The night is cast over the stone crown, and the burning glow of Faris's blood-fueled eyes is concealed beneath dark lenses. Unwanting to be seen, Faris moves through the shadows of the oil lamps, his steps sinking into the damp dust, pine, rotting food, berries, and perfume that have soaked the fogged air like dye. Everywhere he goes, he's met with the stench of footsteps, sharp breath, mumbles of madness, and the people around him appear more like carcasses ready for consumption, drawing out demons like thorns draw blood. Faris's thoughts are filled with the faces of his daughter, his best friend, his wife and above all, Veryth and her unborn child dulling the sharp edge of thirst that stabs from every direction. As he gets closer to his target, the Nakhflay camp, the smooth flow of his steps slows, and he is filled with dread. He has experienced opening doors into rooms he wished not to be, and crossing lines he wished he never had but the camp just seems like it's too much to face.
The Calling - Blood and Snow 39.
Authors note:I apologize for the condition of this chapter, I reposted my previous chapter by mistake and I could not delete it so here is a draft of this chapter that I am still working on. I hate posting work in this state but I would rather you read this than pay to re read the last chapter. Sorry.#########By all accounts, the blood thirst is painful• It hums until it roars, driving the afflicted into a blood-lust madness• Even while satiated, the smell of blood or even the very sound of a beating heart can unleash the feral rage without warning• Soldiers would often leave defensive positions and break formations to sink their teeth into the red fog of war• It took no time to concede the futility of mortal tactics while no longer gravitated by injury and death• The soldier's swing carried impossible force, they moved like gusts of wind and every wound healed as fast as it was inflicted• You would think the blood army were angels by their astonishing beauty if not for the horrors
The Calling - Blood and Snow 01.
"Ashes of battle suffocated the frozen air like black snow. Thieves scurried like vultures seeking their prizes for sacrilege and disdain; wedding rings, pocket watches and blades that shine like the silver for which souls are traded.”The tavern table filled with hankering ears, enough to keep a story tellers tongue wet."It flew upon the battlefield from the Heavens as death: a hurricane cutting down all champions without care for colours nor cause. She was possessed, a demon, and brought Hell with her!""A wench!?" A voice scoffs in the moment of tanker tilting."Make no mistake, this is no fairy tale... Her husband was a farmer, a man of good qualities, people called him Sunny on account of his constant smile. One dark morning, Sunny returned home with a chest he had found washed up on his land. Ancient according to the runes carved on all sides, crafted in polished ebony and locks that took the blacksmith thirteen days to unfold. Brass joints screamed woe in a creak only things
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