The Second Carpenter

II

II_I_The_Terrifactor's_Terrification

Upon nighttime did the pain awaken him. It was nighttime beforehand too. It was always nighttime in Henariot. The howling made him fully awake. He would indeed be the first to know. A northern vampire's wolf is their closest friend. They come to the world together, become adults together, mate together, have the same family tree, and some say that they even share the same spirit.

He left his glorious bed and stood up facing the tall mirror hanging from the wall. The pain had discombobulated him so much that he could not even figure out whence it sourced. He combed his wavy ankle-length silver hair away from his pallid face with his fingers and looked at his golden irises in the mirror. He had never found himself with such a frown.

with his husky voice, he called in one of the two dwarf slaves standing outside his chamber ready for giving services, "Light a candle." Then his bare white skin began to shine under the young light. They were not heavenly people, of course; but all vampire species had skins white as snow. Their hair was a cluster of silver strings, their ears were sharp ended, and both male and female had not a single string of hair on their body apart from their hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes. The northern race had golden eyes and the eastern had red.

Kalgaros the wolf's howling was becoming more worrying by the second. Kalgaros the vampire ordered the dwarf to bring a medic and, in the meantime, tried to figure out where the pain was coming from. Using the candle's light, he searched for bruises and scratches in his image in the mirror; but he failed to find any. The pain itself did not inform him where it was hidden. It was as though his whole body was in pain but also there was no pain; as when one cannot tell if it is too cold or too hot.

Kalgaros the wolf, that enormous, marvelous creature, big as a bear, was whining at his vampire's pain like a newborn kitten; although the noises lacked resemblance. Kalgaros the vampire, desperate to find the source of the pain, returned to his bed and sat on its corner. The wolf started licking the vampire's face and the vampire caressed the wolf's neck gracefully.

His necklace with a seal of the Golden Goat's head that was hanging from a hanger on the wall caught his eye. Not something to make a difference at that moment. But then his eyes moved to the portrait of the Golden Goat which had been drawn and gifted to him by his sister Galah'aasu. That could certainly make a difference.

The medic entered the room and approached him quickly. "What is the matter, Your Supremacy?" Kalgaros said, "Pain. No clue why, no clue where." Kalgaros kept howling. The medic displayed the gesture of a person who is about to murder another out of jealousy. Kalgaros did not know what that meant, but Kalgaros did. "Allow me to take a look," said the medic. He started examining his body under the light of the candle. Examined all places except his back. At this moment, the portrait caught Kalgaros's eye again.

The first to ever become and be a vampire, with that helmet of gold, of which quadruple horns made the shadow of his head resemble that of a goat's. The fist knight of Duthagorr to ever escape. The first to ever insult the prophet. The prophet could indeed defeat him; but he did not even bother appearing. Just like the virgin mother could defeat the prophet, but she did not even bother getting off her divine throne.

The Golden Goat was also the first to ever yield the long-lost vampire craft. That was what the portrait was about. As he shone in his gold-plated steel armor, bats and wolves gathered around him, and one could not say if he was any longer that which he had been. He passed the power onto his wife by magically moving his hands using the power he himself had earned. The first gift as a vampire.

The other Duthagorr knights were cursing him. The Lady of Tears' lake of blood was bloodier than ever; and this time even her harp was shedding tears of blood. Of course, at that time, the Lady of Tears had not been born yet; but Galah'aasu had decided to ignore that. It had certainly caused additional beauty. Kalgaros believed that the moment the Golden Goat had sat on the throne after conquering Henariot would have been a better scenery for a portrait, but this one was indeed created beautifully.