The Immortal | Prequel Story |

Chapter 4 ~ "We Meet At Last"

On the eighth day, Iérti saw they were only a night's ride from the mountains. He made his men stop and rest that day.

At night, Iérti kept the men moving at a steady pace, not rushing them. They were in the open field that stretched out in front of the mountains like a green tapestry, the mountains dark and tall as portrayed in fairytale books. There were no stars that night nor a moon to light their way. It was void and ominous like the black sky that hovered above them.

While Iérti's army kept moving, Mallen's army finally made their move. On one silent unspoken command, the vampires went out as swift as shadows and as quiet as the night, their movements but a rush of air passing through.

Alongside Iérti, a stable boy riding on his horse was rubbing tiredness out of his eyes when he glanced down at his silver sword in astonishment, seeing the horrific sight of vampires advancing behind them, their reflection in his sword terrifying him. The stable boy told Iérti, who immediately looked back to see the vampires, the same moment his men began to raise the alarm that vampires were sighted.

Kill them all. Do not feed nor harm Iérti Keresi; he is to be alive and unharmed, Mallen mentally commanded his vampire army, speaking to them telepathically. Obligated to comply with his orders, the vampires eagerly went for the kill.

Panic blazed through Iérti's army like a flame. Iérti turned his horse so that he was facing the vampires. He gripped his garlic-laden silver sword tightly as his men started dipping their own silver swords into barrels of garlic oil.

But it availed to total failure. Vampires ripped through the army like locusts, killing and feeding almost instantaneously. Iérti was knocked out of his saddle and off his horse before he had a chance to swipe at a vampire with his sword. Iérti groaned as he hit the ground, the grass already wet with the blood of his fallen men.

"No," Iérti said in horror, wiping blood off his clothes.

Around him was chaos. Iérti saw Norwan take out a vampire with his sword before another one lunged at him from behind. Iérti rushed forward to help Norwan, but he was confronted by a vampire that stood in Iérti's path.

The vampire swung his sword out of the way, rendering Iérti weaponless. Iérti reached for a stake on the ground, but the vampire grabbed him, moving Iérti to a bush far from the battle.

"Our leader will deal with you later," the vampire told Iérti before returning to the battlefield.

Iérti couldn't even begin to process the thought of being chosen as the vampire leader's personal lunch, or the fact the vampires even had a leader. He was absolutely horrified. It had all happened so quickly. Despite their best precautions, it ended up in a bloodbath much worse than the one the former general of the East lands had died in.

His body ached. His heart ached even more. Hidden behind the bush, watched in dismay as vampires feasted on his fallen comrades. All of them – including Norwan, Theose, Eluro – were dead.

Iérti turned and sat back against a nearby tree, shell-shocked. He hugged his knees to his chest, unable to stop sobbing. I had led these men to their deaths. Men with wives, children, families, friends. Men with hopes and dreams of a safe, peaceful world. They were brave men who died horrendously. I'm the only survivor. Not even the stable boy survived.

Grief panged Iérti as he mourned their deaths. He felt shaken, unable to do anything but cry. The attack flashed in his mind several times. The sight of vampires, their fangs like vipers. The sight of his fallen men on the ground, drained dry and left for dead. The sight of some that mercifully died the very instant the vampires attacked. The sound of horses neighing and shrieking. The sound of men screaming and yelling. Iérti remembered every detail as though it was etched into his memory. His shoulders shook as he continued to cry, devastated by the loss of his army.