Tales from the Tavern

The Cost of Immortality

This was written around Halloween, but it's not directly tied to that time of year, though it certainly shares themes. I figured I'd go ahead and post it anyway, instead of waiting eight months!

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The great mansion slumbered at the very crown of the hill, blacker than the night sky that framed its towers. Wan yellow light flickered in a lone window, a menacing eye staring down uninvited guests. Even the moon added to the effect, a tiny slice hanging between the two tallest towers, its eerie glow defining the manor's silhouette. But Verani Dorsmund did not heed the superstitious tales that clung to the manor's history like dusty cobwebs, especially since she was an object of superstition herself. A witch, she figured, did not need to fear a vampire, and so after a quick glance measuring the remaining distance, she ascended the hill.

By the time she reached the cast iron gates, carved in the image of twisted humans lost in the throes of agony, she was winded and paused to catch her breath. Her inadvertent glance strayed to the manor once more, now massive in its proximity. The moon had sunk behind a swirling tendril of cloud, leaving the keep's walls shrouded in shadow, dark stone towers creeping to unguessed heights. Only the lone light, still flickering in its window, gave any idea of the mansion's size, and its glow was higher than she would have thought possible.

Breath returned, she stepped forward and grasped a handle. Her hand recoiled instantly, shrinking back from metal cold enough to burn. She gasped, and the gates swung outwards, sharp iron edges missing her by a hair. Wind swept up behind her, racing up the hill and rustling her robes; her hat tumbled from her head, leaving her hair flailing. A black miasma swooped past her ear, hissing and cursing. She fell away from it, dropping to her knees, wrapping arms around her head. The hissing changed to cackling, and she looked up in time to see a bat flit towards the lighted window, clutching her hat in its claws.

Even as she cursed the creature, she grabbed a staff from where she had tied it across her back. Gesturing and muttering darkly, she waved it towards the receding bat. Her mutters grew darker, her gestures more violent, but nothing happened, though the cackling came even louder. A moment longer and the light in the window vanished. Another moment and creaking doors opened at the front of the manor. A warm glow spilled out, framing a tall, masculine figure standing at the aperture.

"Come," it said. "Givu has told me we have a visitor. Come. Here in the light, where I can see you."

Verani crept forward, glaring at the shape that fluttered down to the figure and dropped something into its hand. Something vaguely hat-shaped. "Come," the figure said again. "Here into the light where I can see you."

When she reached the threshold, Verani could not help staring in awe. The figure turned into a man, towering more than a head and shoulders above her and as pale as the moon. His eyes glowed red, more intense than the surrounding firelight. Seeing her, he smiled, revealing two teeth that were longer than the rest and sharpened to dagger points. "Normally I am not so welcoming to visitors, but you… you seem harmless enough. Come in, come in."

He glanced at the staff on her back, and his grin widened in silent laughter. "Make yourself comfortable," he said, then turning over his shoulder, "Kutenun! Bring wine for two."

Verani had hardly removed her cloak before the pale man swept it from her grasp, hanging it on a bone-white stand behind the door. Her hat was already there. She frowned, but let the man lead her to a plush chair across from a crackling hearth. Refusing a seat himself, he stood by the fireplace, gazing at her intently.

Just after Verani managed to get comfortable, the oddest creature she had ever seen shuffled into the room. Wrapped in strips of linen, nothing of its body was visible save its eyes. Its movements were stiff, and it held a tray in outstretched arms that seemed locked in place. The two wine glasses wobbled with each rigid step, but none spilled. It served her first, and then the pale man, who dismissed it with a clearly mocking smile. "Thank you, Kutenun," he said.

The man drained his glass, but Verani dared drink none. She held it tightly, waiting for the other to finish. When he returned his attention to her, she almost wished he had not. His smile had a decidedly predatory gleam.

"So now, down to business," he said. "What can old Viktor Nekvin do for you, tender sweetling?"

He licked his lips, his tongue naturally avoiding the sharpened teeth.

"I was…" Verani gulped, trying to gather herself. Her voice was a high-pitch squeak. "That is, I'm the witch Verani Dorsmund. I- I heard that you hold the secret to immortality, Master Nekvin."

Viktor cackled, rubbing his pale fingers together. "So many," he murmured, barely loud enough for Verani to hear him. "So many come, and they have not learned."

Aloud, he said, "You wish for immortality, sweetling? That is a secret hard to come by. What, pray, might a mere witch give in return?"

"I thought, maybe, that you might like, that is, maybe you could make use of my magic, or- or…" she faltered. His cackling had never ceased, and now it increased to the point where it almost overwhelmed her words.

"You thought I, a vampire who's lived ten thousand years, might find your magics useful, sweetling? No, I'm afraid not. I'm afraid," he said, rubbing his hands together once more, "that the only way for you to gain immortality is to give me blood."

Verani felt the blood drain for her face, felt her hands creep to her neck involuntarily. "No," she whispered, grabbing for her staff, but it was no longer by the chair where she had left it. When she turned back to Viktor, she found him a mere step away. Hungry red eyes met her own, and she screamed. Viktor still laughed, and her screams drowned in the cackling.

Paralyzed by blazing red eyes, Verani sat and watched pale fingers creep towards her neck. She sat unmoving while those fingers tilted back her chin; she could not move when she felt hot breath against her throat. She sat frozen while two tiny blades pressed against the skin of her neck. She felt tears in her eyes as the blades began to close together.

Suddenly the pressure was gone, and the monster's breath with it. Something fell hard against her chair, and then to the floor. The accompanying crash shocked her to motion. She leapt from the chair, over the two forms on the floor, hardly touching the ground once on her flight towards the door. At the threshold, cloak and hat under one arm, staff in the other, she looked back.

The vampire was on hands and knees, slowly shaking his head back and forth. The linen wrapped figure, Kutenun, lay on the floor, his shrouded face facing her.

"Go…" it moaned. "Run… Run or become like me…"

Verani did not hesitate. She turned, fled from the room and raised her staff, screaming spells. They worked, and before she reached the gate, a broom dropped from the sky. It swept her feet from beneath her, and she sprawled across its handle. She barely managed to find a grip before it zoomed off again, carrying her into the safety of the night.

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