King of Dust

Chapter 02

"Please, wait!" I called as the crowd began to disperse. "I just need a moment to talk. Explain myself."

They ignored me. Typical. Alban stepped off the platform into the ankle-deep mud that coated all the streets of the town of Starkovia, and I jumped up and down impatiently as he walked away. I had tried to play nice. I was supposed to be a good guy now, right? No more vampire business, no more King of Starkovia. The once small town, a town I had conquered long ago, had grown into a kingdom. I had been a good king, but... clearly, not good enough.

I was going to try and make amends for the mistakes of the last four hundred years. We were off to a great start. I figured I would play by their rules, see if I could talk to them civilly, before running off. Their first mistake was thinking that ropes could hold me. Now, I was just annoyed, and I didn't want to deal with their petty games any longer.

With a deep breath, I called upon a dark power within me that had saved my life countless times. On the exhale, I became nothing more than a cloud of mist, black smoke that dissipated into the trees behind the hangman's platform. When I was far enough away from the platform behind a thick trunk, I returned to my original self. Before they could notice me, I held my breath and stood still. The night was my ally and would conceal me in her embrace until my friends, if I could even call them that, came for me. I thought for a moment about using some kind of spell to conceal my location, but... eh. What were these village folk going to do?

"Hey!" one of the commoners shouted. "Where'd he go?"

"Curse it all!" Alban hollered as he rushed back to the platform, the sound of his leather boots sticking in mud echoing throughout the clearing. "Split up, men! Search everywhere! We're not letting him get away!"

"What's going on here?"

There was a voice I recognized. I strained my eyes as I watched the crowd of people part for a stranger, hopefully a stranger I knew. The torchlight bounced off an embroidered lily emblem on the back of the cloak worn by the newcomer on the scene, and Alban crossed his arms. I scoffed under my breath at my own impatience. If I had waited two seconds...

"What business have you here, outsider?" Alban demanded, his lip stiff. I could smell his entitlement from the tree.

"My name is Urien. I'm an inquisitor of Avrena, Goddess of Death, from Suvia. I came to Starkovia to take care of your vampire problem."

"We can handle our own vampire problems, thank yo—"

"Apparently not. My goddess sent me here because they were breeding like cockroaches, or hadn't you noticed? My goddess is a protector of the dead, the dying, and the sacred meaning of life. Vampires defy all of that and are an offense to her. Let me do my job."

"Alban, I know him." A young person with hope in their eyes stepped up to Urien. "You're the one everyone's been talking about. You're the one who saved the Ivanov's on their farm, and who marched into Starbán's castle to kill him. You're the famous vampire hunter."

Oh, here we go. I waltzed from the tree line. "Oh, hey, Urien! Nice night for a stroll!"

It was true. Urien had come to my castle to chop my head off. His god told him to hunt down undead and make sure we could not sow our evil seed. We violated the balance of life and death, so therefore we must be stopped. His original intent had been to murder me, but... things changed.

Urien's cape settled, and he held a hand up to me, signaling me to stay where I was. "Yes, I am a vampire hunter. Is everything all right?"

"We had him, Master Urien," the youth replied. "Alban tied him to that noose, and we were going to let him sit until sunlight to cook, but he escaped."