Page 22 of Ever Dark Academy: Vol. 3
His mind offered him flashes of the past as these questions peppered him. He was on a battlefield and there was a storm like no other. It ripped the sky apart. The rain threatened to lash him and the blood filled fields around him. It would drown the earth and sweep the carnage away. The field would be cleaned until he filled it again. With Vampires. Not humans. Vampires were his prey. And Immortals were his trophies. He snapped back to the present moment, sweat speckling his upper lip.
“I did many things in the War,” Ryder said, not denying them, but not apologizing for them either. “But I suppose your real question is what am I going to do now?”
The Vampires shifted uneasily. His eyes raked over them. Weryn was silent in his head. He had a feeling he knew why. He was accepting himself a little more and it was harder to separate out the other.
He’s not an Other. He’s me.
Ryder’s eyes half hooded. He felt the animals inside of him. To call them animals was a misnomer. They were spirits. The spirits of all the greats. He stretched his arms out to his sides. The line--the ghostly line--that had appeared in the Ring spread out on either side of him and the animals stepped up to the line. Those who had been there in the Ring cringed back. Others stared with open mouths.
“I am the Immortal Weryn. This is my palace. My home. At a time of my choosing, if any of you wish to challenge me for wrongs I did to you then so be it. I will meet you eagerly,” Ryder told them, though none of them looked eagerly back. “But if you simply fear me, know this. I serve King Daemon and so long as you are on the right side of him, you have nothing to fear from me. But stray from his good graces and you will find out exactly what the truth of me is.”
He let his words linger in the air. He knew that every ear had caught them and understood.
“Those of you who have other business with me--such as those of my Bloodline--may remain here, but the rest of you need to go away,” Ryder commanded.
Almost immediately Vampires were slinking off at a more or less rapid rate, disappearing into the darkness, jumping up onto rooftops or racing down side streets. Soon there were only members of his Bloodline there. He wondered if this was wise. Had he not dreaded this moment? But Grayson was right. He had to face their judgment. But, in the end, it didn’t matter. He was Weryn. He was their Immortal. And all he could do was go forward.
A man with long, blonde hair, two large braids, built like Thor, the Marvel version, not the Norse one, moved through the remaining crowd like he was an icebreaker. He stood almost as tall as Ryder. A woman with skin the color of ebony and short black hair threaded with gold wire and feathers walked beside him. While neither of them appeared more than thirty, he knew they were old. Maybe older than the War. His nose told him this. He searched his memory for their faces? He wondered about their names. Had he known them? Were they his fledglings? Did they hate him? Did they fear him? Did they..
Demos growled and stepped towards the two, not liking their approach. But before Demos could put his displeasure into words, the two dropped gracefully to one knee and bowed their heads.
“Weryn, our beloved Immortal” the woman said in one of the liquid accents of the continent of South Africa. “You have returned to us.”
Turn
Grayson smiled as he saw the two Vampires bow to Ryder from his window perch. They were both beautiful and powerful-looking. He sensed that they were Weryn. Old Weryn. There was a tingling in the back of his mind, telling him that he had known them when he was Ashyr.
These were not pitchfork-wielding Vampires, hysterical about Weryn’s return, but ancient Vampires overjoyed to have their Immortal back. He wished he could remember their names, remember them. But the information remained tantalizingly out of reach. Maybe when he was turned, he would remember.
Grayson? Balthazar’s voice came into his head with a faint buzz.
I’m here. What’s up? Grayson asked, falling into the vocabulary he used now rather than before. He wondered if he liked that. He really didn’t want to keep much of this life.
We have an issue. “Jill” is no longer with us, Balthazar’s mind voice was dry.
Grayson stiffened. She’s--
Been given a rather nasty Second Death, Balthazar explained.
But you had her under guard and--
Yes, and the person guarding them was found unconscious, though not dead interestingly. But they might not wake up as their mind is… fried, Balthazar’s voice was tinged with pain.
Grayson’s fingernails cut into his palms as he gripped his palms. He should have known this would happen and urged Balthazar to take more precautions, but what other precautions were there to be taken in a palace?
He asked just that, And they got into your palace without you knowing…
I had it open because of the students.
Balthazar!
I know! I thought--wrongly--that there were enough safeguards in place, but I was incorrect. Very, very incorrect, Balthazar sounded angry. His thoughts snapped with it. This was supposed to be a joyous thing! We’re supposed to--
All right. All right. It might not even be an outsider, Grayson said.
You think an Eyros in my Palace--
I am not closing my mind to anything, and neither should you, Grayson warned.
