Heathen

Mercenary I

Endymion's POV

Dust... Blood and dust... And then more blood. I am surrounded by these...

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The years passed and turned into decades. The decades turned into centuries. It was evident for a while now that the Gods had stopped meddling in the affairs of the humans. Their followers, myself included, rarely saw them anymore. They retreated more and more into obscurity, leaving us to figure things out on our own, leaving their chosen ones, their children, alone, wanting, needing...

For myself and my Hecatean brethren, our thirst for blood has become more acute. Without the close presence of the Dark Goddess, our existence depended on it. And we took it from the mortals.

In an attempt to satisfy my need, I became a mercenary. It made it easier to get blood. Battles, injuries, people die or go missing... less questions asked. And, a skilled warrior is always needed.

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It was spring when I joined a large division of men, who had been recruited to prtotect the autonomy of the colonies. We marched eastward, intoxicated by our continued victories and the spoils we had won along the way, and did not realize until it was too late that we had been tricked into following our contractor, pretender to his own brother's throne, on a fool's errand, deep in a foreign land.

Summer found us fighting constantly, under scorching heat, in dry and desolate grounds. Yet, we marched on...

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I know I did choose this but, I am getting increasingly tired and frustrated. I have been doing it for over a hundred years. Battle after battle friends become foes, enemies turn into allies and vice versa. Blood and dust, always one or the other cover me, marring my existence.

I cannot go on like this for much longer. I feel fed up. I feel like I am losing grip of who I am...

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We were victorious in our last battle in the rear. But, unbeknownst to us, the pretender was already dead and his own army scattered.

And so we found ourselves behind enemy lines, with only one desire: to get back to our homeland. As we refused to surrender, we were left with no choice but to leave, fighting our way through enemy lines if we had to. The same night we made preparations and at daybreak we began our march north. We camped wherever we thought we could find food. We repeled every enemy attempt to break our lines. 

Again, envoys were sent to our camp. Our generals assured them once more that we had no quarrel with the king and just wanted to get back to our homeland, safe. They were lured to a meeting for truce, under false pretences and were murdered. The king apparently thought this would be enough to break our conviction but it had the opposite effect. We simply elected new generals and continued more determined.

We were now marching north for several days. The landscape had changed. Instead of fields and rivers, we were surrounded by rocky dry lands and mountains with steep slopes. Heavy snow began to fall, making everything more difficult.

We had to leave behind our prisoners and all unnecessary load. We walked for days, constantly feeling cold and hungry. The men were tired and frustrated. The mountainous landscape made us vulnerable to sudden attacks from above, causing us a few casaulties and injuries, but fortunately nothing too serious.

When we reached a small secluded village, it felt like a blessing. At last the Gods were smiling at us again. We took shelter there, with strict orders to respect our "hosts", who willingly or not, provided us we food and wine and a roof above our heads. 

Winter was finally here, harsh and bitterly cold.

A few days passed without any problems. All was quiet and we could just rest and regroup, before continuing our journey.

It had been a while since I had any blood at all. I was feeling restless. I had to do something, find someone to quench my thirst. After nightfall, I slipped out unnoticed – or so I thought- and walked towards the surrounding woods. As I neared the tree line, I thought I heard some noise behind me but I dismissed it. Who would dare go out into the cold dark night?

I walked for a while, following my instinct and I got lucky. I found someone lurking in the dark by the edge of the forest. He was neither a villager nor one of us, but rather another spy, sent like many others from our enemies. The Gods certainly did not favour him.. But it was over quickly. I snapped his neck swiftly so he could not scream and drained him completely, quenching my burning thirst. I left him deeper in the woods for the beasts or the snow to take care of him.

I was making my way back when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye.

"Another one" I thought.

Whoever it was, tried to run but I was quicker and caught them from behind. I turned the person I captured around ready to sink my fangs in their flesh and I was faced with a pair of brown eyes that widened in horror.

-"Արյուն խմող" the young woman in my arms exclaimed in her native tongue trembling with fear, before fainting.

(A/N: Արյուն խմող = aryun khmogh, blood drinker in Armenian)

I cursed under my breath. This complicated things. I looked around. No one else was out in the bitter cold. No one saw us. I carried her in a small abandoned hut that stood at the edge of the village. I laid her on the floor gently and lit a small fire, waiting for her to wake up.

What did she see?

After a while she stirred and opened her eyes. Seeing me sitting across from her, she jumped up and cowered in the corner, still shaking with fear.

-It is alright, you just passed out, I said in a soothing voice, not sure if she understood me.

- Արյուն խմող she repeated, touching her mouth and pointing at me.

Yes... I somehow got the gist of it. She must have seen me drinking blood. And there laid the problem. What should I do with her now? I could not risk her telling others what she saw. I was not sure how her people or even my own comrades would react.

-Please... no hurt me. She spoke in the common tongue now.

I looked at her. My expression was somber.

-I... no tell... she stuttered. The young woman was sobbing, tears were running down her cheeks. –I no tell... she repeated, looking at me with pleading eyes.

I sighed heavily. She was so young and so innocent. I felt my chest tighten. I stood up and approached her. She shrunk even further into the corner.

-Please... she pleaded. The tears kept flowing.

It pained me to do this, really. As I bent over, taking her into my arms, she did not scream. She just closed her eyes and let go. I touched the skin over her pulsing vein with my lips as gently as I could. Hearing her whimper, my heart clenched. I sunk my teeth into her neck, slowly draining her life. She was lost between fear, pain, despair and –oh, the irony!- pleasure. She gripped my arms with her hands tightly, sighing, breathing erratically, until her heart stopped.

I cried for the first time in a long while, holding the girl in my arms.