The Patriarch and the Monk
By S.C. Lorigan [Author Info]
The stars twinkled through the silverbark trees bathing the battleground in a beautiful and surreal light. Tindomiel looked at his twin brother Loas lying on the ground, his body broken and twitching.
"Help me," echoed in Tindomiel's mind. His brother reached out for him. All of their friends lay scattered about the field dead and torn asunder amidst the feasting of wolves, rats and ghouls. Its minions were many, but now only He and the two brothers remained.
Slowly Tindomiel shifted his eyes from Loas' tattered form to the Nosferatu known as Sxuil Thith. He was one of the original thirteen vampires, a son of the Mother. Despite his proud heritage, the undead was badly wounded. Loas' blade had seared his flesh even as he broke the dark elf's spine. Hatred swelled in Tindomiel's every fiber of being. Long ago it was set in fate that he and Sxuil Thith, Lord of those who drink blood, would clash upon this field.
"Help me." Tindomiel looked back to his brother. The monk walked over to his sibling, a small tear coming from his eye amid all the hatred.
He knelt down next to him and tenderly brushed his hair out of his face. "I love you, Loas," he said in their native tongue. He quickly snapped his neck to end his pain. A silent scream tore through Tindomiel's spirit as his twin brother's breath ceased.
His teeth clenched and his muscles grew taut. "Thith," he whispered as he stood and scanned the plain. The vampire was regenerating and slipping away quickly. Tindomiel began to run with all the power of his legs, speeding toward the vile sacrilege of nature.
Visions of long ago flooded his mind. He remembered the eastern lands where he trained as a martialist and where he met Shou Xail. She was a beautiful flower. With copper skin and hair black like coal, her eyes were the greenest jade known in the Underworld. He was a dark elven prince of Thal'katkhact in love with a human girl, and although his family would never approve, he wed the girl and lived in bliss. They made love underneath a sun that no longer burned his skin and within herself she carried his child. In this felicity, Tindomiel thought he would never return to Thal'katkhact -- but then came Sxuil Thith. The fiend tore out Shou Xail's neck and devoured her innocence, draining also the young half-drow within her womb.
As Tindomiel snapped from past nightmare to the present, the vampire turned around and struck him in the chest with a mighty snarl that echoed throughout the forest. Tindomiel rolled backward and flipped up to his feet, a cold, empty smile on his face, his gloves tight. "Now you will meet my wrath, Nosferatu."
Thith's laughter was a wave of fear and disdain that would have disheartened a lesser advisory, but the monk was not daunted. He moved slowly to the left, circling the old vampire.
"Go ahead, Lord of nothing, change to mist and flee -- preserve your waste, you coward." There was no emotion in his words, only thought. The vampire narrowed his prideful eyes and looked upon the drow.
"I do not flee from an insignificant drow whelp," he said. Enraged, Thith moved forward and with blinding speed his vicious talons ripped at the monk's flesh. But with equally blinding speed -- and much to Thith's sudden surprise -- the monk clapped the vampire's ears with a mighty blow. Thith's head twisted to one side as the monk's foot came crashing down upon his steel hard leg, snapping the bone with a loud break. The vampire smiled as he toppled momentarily to one side, blood oozing from one ear. A strange look crossed Sxuil Thith's lips and the Monk smiled.
"Thith, you prideful devil, you have learned the truth too late," Tindomiel said, rapidly placing wicked blows to the Nosferatu's head, neck and chest. "I wear the gloves of the Dragon and not even you can heal the wounds I give you... you will perish here today."
He laughed at the vampire as he grabbed hold of his head. With his hands made iron by the magic belt around his waist, Tindomiel drove his thumbs deep into the vampire's eye sockets, destroying the black orbs. Thith howled as he lifted the monk into the air above his head. His screams grew louder as the monk's fingers clasped onto the skull inside the eyes, refusing to let go. With a mighty fling, the Lord of Nothing tossed his enemy against a tree.
Quickly, Tindomiel jumped back on his feet and clutched the head of his enemy. Sxuil wrapped his arms around the monk and began to squeeze. The two struggled against one another, each trying to kill the other, and with a sound that cannot adequately be described, Tindomiel ripped the vampire's head off of his shoulders. Slowly, its body fell limp to the ground. With Thith's head in hand and rage glowing from his fingers, Tindomiel stood in silence staring only at the visions in his mind.
Dead upon the field were his step father, the wizard Ckelles, his brother, and the knight Duskgleem. Long ago his wife and unborn son were killed... But was vengeance delivered?
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Copyright © 1999 by S.C. Lorigan. This material may be distributed only subject to the terms and conditions set forth in the Open Publication License, v.04 1998 or later (the latest version is presently available at http://www.opencontent.org/openpub/).
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