The Vampire King's Mortal Mate

The Wheels Of Fulfillment

The rumbling which had previously plagued the conclave halls had stopped and the darkness which had accompanied the weighty words offered by the oracle had receded, but the wide, focused stares from all the creatures in the room remained, directed fixedly at the collapsed elven girl, as if expecting more explanation to the ambiguous prophecy that had just been made. Such an explanation looked increasingly like it wasn't going to come.

Outside the conclave, the words of the oracle had silenced all who were present as well. Confusion and curiosity spelt out clearly on their faces with no one knowing more than their neighbor about the mystery words spoken by the oracle.

A red haired maiden? The power in the north? Humans? What did their future have to do with those creatures. Most of them had reached the simplest conclusion possible at this time. It seemed pretty obvious that a war was coming, the oracle had seemingly confirmed it.

None of them were convinced of the idea that was tossed around in their minds nor were they focused on reaching a reliable interpretation of the prophecy, the humans couldn't be capable of anything beneficial to the creatures and the mention of blood and war in the prophecy had sealed that for everyone who had observed, their hate for humans fuelling their haste to reach such a conclusion.

Within the conclave halls, the same resolve was shared. However, these thoughts didn't ring true to two, two who knew more about the red haired maiden who had been mentioned earlier, both drawn to her by need, however varying they were. Marcus' was born of an intense craving and desire while Gildor's was born of an insatiable quest for power.

Both men looked up at each other and at Arthur, convinced they reserved the exclusive rights to more knowledge about the prophecy than the others who were currently present at the conclave. Arthur still looked shook from the after effects of witnessing the powerful oracle. A typical lycan.

Gildor moved towards the weak girl cautiously and looking into her eyes, determined she was no longer in touch with the celestial powers. Her eyes had been big balls of shining light some minutes ago and right now, they were vacant and greyish in color, normalcy for an elf of her abilities.

She moaned weakly as Gildor examined her. It sounded very much to be born of pain but Gildor preferred to believe she was in the embrace of the celestial ones and so she was experiencing unimaginable bliss. He unfolded the strip of cloth that the oracle had relinquished to him earlier and with great care, covered her eyes and secured it with a loose knot behind her head.

Almost instantly, the moaning stopped and she settled. Gildor picked her up from the floor and carried her carefully to the litter from which she had dumbfounded the members of the conclave. He laid her down and turned away as he made his way back to his position.

Arthur's demeanor had improved considerably and he stared critically at Gildor as he walked back to his seat.

"This explains nothing Gildor, nothing at all", Arthur said, challenging Gildor's bid to be exonerated of suspicion.

" A red haired maiden? This talk of war? A power in the north?, that explains nothing about why you have kept all of this information to yourself", continued Arthur, shaking a distrusting finger in Gildor's face as he expressed himself.

"You would be wise to show me some respect, Lycan", Gildor retorted, angered by the condescending manner in which Arthur had chosen to address him. His eyes blazed with fury as he regarded the Lycan, he itched to teach him a lesson or two.

" I agree", Marcus said, his voice booming across the hall and carrying with it a heavy sense of conviction, interrupting the angry exchange between the other two members of the conclave.

Gildor was the first to acknowledge his intervention as he turned toward Marcus, brushing aside the aggression that been etched rather clearly on his face during his exchange with Arthur.

He abandoned it for a warmer countenance as he turned to regard Marcus, he needed the vampire to be on his side, as Arthur had raised a genuinely concerning opinion which could pull at the poorly hidden fabric of secrecy he had woven.

"Thank you Marcus", Gildor replied as turned to face the vampire.

" I'm afraid my agreement was not afforded to you Gildor but to Arthur", Marcus stated quite firmly, with the ever growing threat in his voice rearing it's horns once again.

Gildor looked shook as he had expected Marcus and Arthur to be distracted by the Oracle's words, enough to give him enough time to fabricate a placatory tale which would stave off the onslaught of suspicion he was currently experiencing.

No one looked like they were prepared to catch his fall and he watched himself hesitate a bit as the crushing reality of the sequence of events he had set into motion seemed to envelop him. He was in for it.

"Your silence does you no favors Gildor", Marcus menacingly offered, sitting up from the relaxing pose he had struck from the beginning of the meeting. He seemed to be more intent on matters concerning the security of his authority, rather than the meaningless ramblings of the oracle, he was one of the few vampires who believed in the truth of willpower and how destinies were shaped by the individuals themselves. Nothing was set in stone.

This realization had hit Gildor like a carriage of dead bodies on a cold blood war morning. Of course, his use of the oracle as a distraction wouldn't work on Marcus!, Arthur's elusiveness was one of the qualities he hated about lycans, they couldn't be easily swayed. This had led Gildor to count on catching the eye of the vampire king, a trick which would enable him douse the fire's of Arthur's continued questioning, a plan which was failing woefully. His situation though malleable, was more hopeless that that of the beggars ill child.

" Call in the spies", Marcus shouted, commanding his legion of sires through the sound of his father imposed authority. A dozen footsteps sounded through the hallways with no one seeing those that went or came. The Ulthu, a rare specie of vampire sired by Aldrich bloodtooth. No one had known what in his blood had led to the deadly creature being created or the circumstances required for it's birth, but quite everyone alive at that point could attest to how his enemies were torn to bits at his bidding. The frightening gore, the hopeless screams and the mystery of the perpertrators appearance all scared his enemies hopelessly, silencing any challenges to his authority.

The first Ulthu could be told apart by the heavy footsteps whenever Aldrich summoned it. However, as time passed, the Ulthu grew in number, the species frighteningly observing that the Ulthu were a family of vampire assassins who lived to carry out vampire biddings, the most terrifying symbol of the bloodtooth power.

Mandi's breath had quickened, her heart heavy and her child unsure of how to feel towards his unknown father. The deck of cards he had built to hold him up had begun to fall and potentially devastatingly too. She reached a hand to her belly, filled with love for her newly found source of happiness and at the same time torn with anger at her incorrigibly stubborn husband who had threatened the joy of the family she looked forward to building with him.

She thought for a minute about having had to stay back at Moorhen, as she imagined the possibility of having to ride back to Moorhen in a lonely carriage, having accompanied a dead man to his funeral and the father of her unborn child to the deadly eclipse of his mistakes. Tears filled her eyes and flowed down her cheeks. She was feeling pain she had never imagined she would have to feel at her young age, life was about to become surprisingly terrible for her, as women weren't so important in the elven community, the only blight in the otherwise perfect culture of the elves.

Albert stared at her with sorry eyes. Nobody dared offend Marcus or regard him with the wrong eyeball even though they secretly questioned his candidacy for the throne which Aldrich had vacated. The power he controlled as the strongest vampire could never be questioned and as such deterred any visible threat to his rule.

No vampire could help her, and they were the deadliest species. Hers and her happiness' was a lost cause which none was stupid enough to consider as salvageable. Gildor had gotten himself into this mess and should have the means, if he could, to get himself out of it. Otherwise, it would be a truly tragic story for the elven queen, but not necessarily so for the throng of power hungry elves back at Moorhen, Albert reasoned. The thirst for power was frighteningly abundant among the species at it's murderous worst with Marcus being the only safe monarch in the lands.

The footsteps of the Ulthu had left an elf, bloodied but very much alive at the doors of the conclave halls, coughing up blood as it tried to talk.

"The blood, the bloooddddd, the re……….., the girl", he coughed violently as he fell to the floor as dead as the silence which held the conclave halls by the throat.

" What blood Gildor? And who is this girl your elf speaks so particularly about, elven king?", Marcus shouted huskily, prompting Gildor to shiver fearfully at the rage of the vampire king. He had clearly not thought this through as his wife had advised, he had made a terrible mistake.

Mandi now sobbed where she sat, as the other members of the party outside the conclave walls cast pitiful looks at her, the journey ahead, without her husband was going to be painstakingly difficult. They had all stared in agreement with that fact.

Arthur had quietened as he was once again reminded of the power and omnipotence of the Ulthu and how strong a specie the vampires truly were. He was now staring hardly and almost sympathetically at Gildor, almost sorry for sparking his doom. But then again, that was the nature of politics among the species, pursue the power to do what you preferred or die trying. Many a specie had died because of this and many more would die in future, the most powerful aggressors being the vampires.

Arthur dropped his head in submission almost as simultaneously as a smile had played on Marcus's face. He was impressed at how shaken the prime lycan looked at his display of authority. He had begun proving to each and every one of them that his father wasn't stupid to trust in him as sole leader of all species.

Gregory hadn't moved a muscle since the bloody elf corpse had been delivered into their line of sight at the conclave doors. He had almost forgotten the very distinctive and murderous stench which the Ulthu possessed as they carried out their commander's bidding.

He cast a wandering thought back to the old days and the rampage Aldrich had unleashed on the land to establish vampire supremacy, he thought about the death of the two prime lycans, beasts which no vampire desired their company. Aldrich had torn their bodies in multiple pieces and threatened the life of their young pup, an action which wrote his name in the book of authority and respect for all creatures.

Those were the times before the blood wars, before it was discovered that witches blood scared the Ulthu and somewhat delayed their willingness to carry out their master's bidding provided it was gotten onto his person first. The humans had used beautiful young witches who seduced Aldrich and stabbed themselves in a bid to get their blood on him on their many attempts on his life. His love for human women being his only weakness.

Gregory reasoned further, the prophecy ringing true in his ears. The red-haired maiden had only been spoken of in reference to her emergence and already, the elven king was at Marcus' mercy. He looked across the room at the others. Many didn't believe the words of the prophecy but it was clear to Gregory at least, that the wheels of fulfillment were slowly but surely turning.