Servant of the Moon #1 - unedited draft

Lord Artures strode angrily through the Coven Hall of the King next to the Royal Palace, Giaus, his second, follows respectfully behind. Sensing the waves of rage radiating from him, lesser vampires part before the pureblood like the sea. No one daring to even look up at the ancient and powerful Master Vampire.

“Well, Lord Artures, back from the other side of the seas,” a deep malevolent voice echos in the silent foyer.

Several vampires timidly flee into the shadows to get away from the confrontation between the powerful master and their king’s father, his cousin.

“Lord Theo,” Artures glared coldly.

“Don’t be upset, with the Council. Your daughter died and hunters are to blame,” Theo reminded malevolently. “Your coven should respect that her son is not your true heir and appoint your grandnephew.”

“Your shill will never have my coven. My daughter’s son will be my heir, if not in this decade, then in the next one, Theo!” Artures declared, “If you and your politicians will not be bothered to save our kind, I will. Something is hunting us and it is not the Hunters. More will listen and next time you will not hold one vote’s sway to keep what is happening across the sea a secret.”

“Hmrph,” Theo snorts derisively. “And what would you do, Artures? Shout from the rooftops. The losses of the covens are the work of the Hunters, nothing more. All your tales of a mythical burning werewolf being the culprit are just that... a myth. When will you stop trying to weaken the truce with the dogs?”

“I am not trying to weaken the truce with the Werewolves, but one of them is hunting us and taking our children for their blood,” Artures insisted.

“Dogs don’t drink blood, and you need to stop before you are deemed unfit to advise the king on the new world covens,” Theo sneered.

“It is not for you to say who will represent the new world alliance of minor covens, father. It is mine,” a deep voice drifted to them.

Immense power enters the room, Giaus and Theo’s servant drop to one knee. Lord Artures and Lord Theo turn and bow as King Enos descended the stairs into the foyer. “Do not presume to know what is best for the safety of our kind, Lord Theo, for the reports from your own coven are just as disturbing.”

Theo looked up to glare at his son, but he cannot hold his gaze, and looked to the side, “A misunderstanding I’m sure, my son.”

Enos’ lips press together in contempt, “Perhaps.”

After several moments of silence, Theo shifted uncomfortably, “I would take my leave. My coven is not concerned with myths and monsters. I have real problems, like hunters. Will you be joining our next attack, perhaps bring Locaine? We’ve set a trap for them.”

The king’s gaze never wavered, “Yes, Lord Theo. But I think we also need to look into this wolf who hunts us. All myths begin as truth, Grandfather taught me that and much more. It is why I am king and you are not, father.”

Somewhere in the room, someone coughs a laugh and Theo’s expression becomes livid, moments later, he and his servant are gone.

“Walk with me, Lord Artures,” King Enos instructs.

Lord Artures bows, following his distant nephew out into a library filled with comfortable chairs, and a fireplace blazing against the bitter cold outside. A maid brings them goblets of wine and blood.

“How is the Augur?”

“My granddaughter is well, thank you,” Artures answers carefully.

“And she is safe?” Enos continues.

“Yes,” he responds carefully. “She says you are in danger, to be careful, nephew. There are those close to you who plot against you.”

“There are always those who plot against me.” Enos sounds tired and, for a moment, older. “What did she see?” Enos asks as he sips blood from the crystal.

Artures swallows, “Your head in the grass, next to another’s, a female hunter. Circles of blood in the air that float or fall like rain around your brother. The sister of the one who dies with you, will protecting him if he picks up your crown, and then we will survive. She says if your father picks up the crown, the world will bleed out and burn, and every race will fall.”

Enos rubs his forehead, for a moment again he looks older than his years.“Do not worry Artures, the hunters will not get my head so easily, and I have already made my brother my heir.” He sit silently for a moment staring at the fire. “This fiery wolf that the Augur sees, what is he? Why does she believe he will end our kind? He is just one wolf.”

“I do not understand either, but she says he has power beyond all other wolves. He seduces those who live in darkness, that his soul is not his own, but ancient. He is and was and will be again, and he is raising a kingdom to rain fire upon the world. He wishes first to enslave it, then to destroy it. And he does exist, my king. The high oracle of the wolves warned Lord Lain, he would come and the Augur herself saw him the night the Charlains Coven fell. It was a miracle my grandchildren escaped. This Alpha is not normal. He is a wolf that worships the sun, wears its mark, he defies their goddess and her ways. ” Artures swallows the last of his blood and wine, but it does not take the bitterness in his throat away. His granddaughter has screamed herself out of too many visions of this wolf for him not to fear it. He worried her visions of it would drive her insane.

“Do whatever you must to protect your covens, cousin. Find this wolf who is killing our kind and taking our children... but discretely. We can not afford a war with the wolves,” Enos concludes.

Artures rises to leave and bows, but before leaving he turns, “You are a good ruler. Be careful, Enos, remember a trap can catch the trap-maker too.”

Years later, Lord Artures walked through the dark halls of his coven, he could smell incense... and blood. He ran into the room his granddaughter used for scrying. Ghostly tendrils of incense float out into the hall. She was laying in a pool of her own blood, convulsing and murmuring, “The king is dead, the fiery one is coming... The king is dead, the fiery one is coming...”

Horrified, he lifted her slowly against his chest and whipped the blood from her face, she had badly bitten the back of her hand and arm, tearing the flesh away. Artures bit his wrist and placed it to his granddaughter’s lips. Instinctively, she sucked before slumping into unconsciousness. He carried her to her room, and laid her on the bed. With sad hands, he carefully washed the blood from her pure white hair and pale skin. He poured the basin of bloody water into the sink, it was then he realized his tears had helped rinse the blood away. His cousin’s son, his distant nephew, and good friend, his king was dead.

For the next weeks, Artures repeatedly tried and failed to get permission to meet with the new King, his other distant nephew whom he had not since in a century or more. Finally he made a decision, he could not wait, two more covens had been slaughtered, their children taken in areas where no hunters were active. The three largest of the covens on the continent were not concerned with the loses of the smaller ones with the royalty in turmoil over King Enos decision to make his younger brother his heir, and not his beloved or his father.

“Giaus, send word to those under us, we are moving to safety. Everyone, and I mean everyone, is to go underground or leave our coven for one of the larger ones across the sea. As far as the royals are concerned, we don’t exist, so we shall not exist. It is our duty to protect the Augur Vampyr.”

20 years later...

They had been found!

After two decades of hiding, the coven had been found. Their coven was a mixed group of humans, half-breeds (children of human and vampire blood), and vampires who had banded together to protect themselves and the unknowing humans around them. They were fighting to the death when a howl had sounded and half the wolves had retreated. It was only then she realized they had taken the coven’s children, including her son and daughter.

She prayed to their Goddess for help to bring death to these wolves and for time to find her children as two of the remaining wolves charged her. Sword of the Charlain held tightly, she slashed and decapitated the first wolf. As the other shifted into its fighting form, attacking, they fought. She wasn’t as strong as the wolf, but she was faster and her father’s sword leveled the battlefield against his claws. It jumped and dodged as she feinted and struck. This wolf was more skilled than the others she’d fought tonight. Saliva dripped form its dingy yellowed fangs, its claws weren’t much cleaner. It reeked of human booze and tobacco, and smelled like sun-burnt roadkill. It disgusted her and she knew it was what the regular werewolves called a rogue.

“Where are they taking my children, you dog?” Lanea hissed at him. He growled and snapped at her.

“If you tell me. I’ll let you live,” she bargained.

He wheezed something that sounded like a laugh and lunged at her. It took everything Giaus and Max had taught her to keep the wolf’s claws and fangs out of her skin. She moved faster than him, and managed to get behind him, stabbing him through the center of his back severing his spinal cord. She knelt over him, as he shifted to his skin. A scruffy, half toothless man who looked more like a homeless human drunk than a werewolf.

“Tell me where they took them and I’ll end you quickly and honorably like a real wolf. If you don’t, I’ll let suffer,” Lanea threatened, she couldn’t show any weakness, but all she could feel was fear for her children.

Blood and spittle sprayed from his lips as he wheezed, from somewhere he managed to grate out, “What would you know of wolf honor, leech?”

Her eyes shined hard, she forced her voice to be steady, “More than a rogue like you. You know your goddess will send her hounds for you. Where did your Alpha take the children?”

He wheezed another laugh as blood gurgle from his throat, “The Sun will reward me, he promised.” It got colder. His eyes widened at some unseen horror, with a terrified moan, “Please Goddess... Nooo... Took them... all... to ... to be... sacrificed...”

He convulsed as if he was being ripped apart by unseen claws as he died. Lanea felt the unnatural cold too close in the darkness and froze, least she attract the attention of whatever other-woldly creatures had come.

She gasped as she felt cold fur brush her skin, ‘They were real. Oh Goddess.’

She had hoped threatening the wolf with the wrath of his deity would make him talk, she didn’t realize the myths of the wolves were real. Looking around with only her eyes, she saw great black shadowy wolves gathering the condemned dead. The taut, leathery black hides looked ragged, decayed. One turned its skull head to her and its glowing red eyes saw her. It bowed its in her direction as if to say, ‘Well met, Vampyr.’

Lanea watched them jump into the night sky with howls she felt more than heard. She remained frozen, too terrified to move.

“Augur Lanea... Lanea!” Max’s voice pulled her back, she looked around fearfully.

This was worse than any vision she had ever had. Max ran toward her, her beloved half-human was alive. The Moon’s Hounds were gone and only the few wounded vampires remained alive. His bloody hands pressed into her cheek as he forced her to look at him.

“Lanea! Look at me, sweetheart.”

“Max, the... the Moon’s hounds were here. They’re real... they took the wolves’ souls,” she gasped shakily. “One of them looked at me.” Her eyes were as wide as the full moon above.

Max looked horrified then pulled her against his chest. “Shhh my dark angel, it will be okay. We have to find Larson and the others, we’re the only ones left. They took the kids.” His voice relayed how broken his heart, how worried for their children, the hopelessness he tried to hide.

Suddenly, Lanea could hear Larson in her mind again, and the few surviving coven members. So many wounded, so many would not see the dawn. She knew a witch had fled with the wolves, but it was too late to save many. Death was all around as she felt their Goddess walking among them, gently gathering her children to her heart, as a mother would hold her child. Lanea sobbed into Max’s arms for a few moments, she was a seer, used to see the horror of the world through dancing shadows and the curling tendrils of incense smoke in candlelight. But to see such horror in the world where her heart did not beat, to feel the blood clinging to her skin, to not wake from this nightmare was almost too much and her spirit faulted. She confessed her shame to her beloved.

“It’s my fault, Max. I didn’t understand. I saw a pale girl burning a censer of dried wolf blood, ground vampire fangs and bloodbane. She was singing so sadly and standing in a ring of sunfire as burning wolves ran around her. ” Lanea shuddered, her nails digging into her palms. “I thought the girl was in danger, was praying for help, not that she was casting a spell to rob us of their gifts. She was a witch, that’s why we couldn’t hear each other or heal. That’s how they are attacking the covens and leaving no trace. The Sun-wolf Alpha is using the witches.”

Max rocked her in his arms, shushing her. She looked at her arm, the slash was healing as it should, quicker than humans. For the duration of the battle, it had leaked blood instead of healing. She felt a sharp pain eating at the little bit of a soul she been gifted by her beloved, so many of their coven mates did not survive.

Her grandparents had only chosen the most dedicated and strongest to come into this self-imposed exile, and it had been one of the first acts of King Enos to forbid contact with werewolves and witches to try to protect the Vampire race. She swallowed her guilt in great choking gulps, she had not been able to save him either. She remembered the one time they had met, Enos had come to see her, her vision had not changed. His head on the grass, the head of a female with white eyes lying beside it. Below blood-stained white hair, his eyes fading from black rose as his corpse cooled. Lanea felt broken. She had never saved anyone, only delayed their deaths.

“Sweetheart, you need to go inside, the sun is rising. Jack and I will follow them, tonight we can counterattack and get our children back. But you have to get out of the sunlight,” Max’s white eyes held all fear and concern for her above all, she felt unworthy of him, of his courage but her grandfather had taught her that those born to be hunters, were the most fearless of human kind. She let him guide her inside. The fire the sunwolves had tried to start in the manor had failed, she and her brother had learned as children to never live in a place susceptible to flame.

As they entered the foyer, another half-human and vampires tended the wounded. They had lost almost all of their numbers, including her grandfather Artures. Larson was laying so still, barely breathing, great clawed gashes across his chest and bites on his arms and legs. Their human healer was dead and her teen-aged daughter was doing all she could. Normally vampires didn’t need healers, but the witch’s spell had taken that gift from them throughout the battle. Lanea bent and placed her hand on his white hair, so stained with blood, just like King Enos. She couldn’t stay there, she couldn’t watch her brother die. She was supposed to warn them, keep them safe, and she was ashamed of her failure. She ran down the hall into the darkness.

She stopped in the pool room, the sound of water dripping echoed her tears. What good was it to be the vaulted Seer of Shadows if she couldn’t save her coven, her friends, her family? She had prayed for aid and none came.

“Why won’t you help me?! Why can’t I save anyone?” she screamed out to her Goddess in her pain, her anguish echoing off the stone walls.

The Vampire’s multi-faced Goddess of Time, Sex, and Death was also the Goddess of Motherhood, and in this moment, Lanea was a desperate mother. Suddenly, the water in the pool glowed and bubbled as if it were boiling with pale blue moonlight. She could see figures swimming toward her. A dark haired female, a werewolf, burst through the surface, coughing and gasping for air as she pulled herself up on the side of the pool. Lanea could only gape at her, it was the same face she had seen in the water the day her parent’s coven had been destroyed and she had survived with Larson.

Before she could find a single word to say in her astonishment, the she-wolf spoke, “You must be the Augur Vampyr, I’m the Delphi of the Moon. My Goddess sent me, I mean us, to help you.”