Heir to the Eternal Throne

Chapter 1

            Kicking the side of his horse, a dark figure rode along an overgrown dirt path. His long crimson coat flapped in a strong gust of wind. His ruby eyes lingered ahead, watching vigilantly. Before him, the remains of a gate in a palisade wall crumbled beneath flames. There was little left of the entrance, save for the burning wall that would soon follow. Tailed by two other figures, he led the way past the gate, crossing through the fire as if it were not there.

            Aldrin, the eldest sibling, dismounted his midnight black horse. His younger siblings followed in kind. They surveyed the remains of the village. The bodies of its inhabitants littered the ground, surrounding the crumbling remains of the burning homes. A wagon, kept away from the fires, collected small sacks of gold and other items of possible value as the vampire warriors looted the village.

            "Luthar," Aldrin called, his head turning a fraction to his right, facing his younger brother. Golden orange eyes met Aldrin's gaze. Luthar shared much of the same facial features as his elder brother, with the only notable difference in eye color and a claw-shaped scar on his throat. The fires of the village illuminated the elegant robes his younger brother preferred, revealing the strands of silver that brought the patterns to life. "Take three warriors, search and burn the temples to the ground," Aldrin commanded with a deep, demonic voice resonating across the expanse.

            With a silent order, Luthar waved over three other nearby warriors. Leading the vampires into the village, he glided several feet across the ground with each step. To Aldrin's slight amusement, the other three vampires found it hard to keep up with his brother.

            Karen, youngest of the three, took two steps closer to Aldrin. "Something... feels different," She said, her voice close to a whisper, trailing off as if she yet lingered in thought. The sound of her voice was like silk, so smooth that to any who had no idea what she was, they might assume her to be an elf. Yet, she was no elf. Unlike either of her elder brothers, Karen chose a mixed clothing style, one that took elements from the Gothic coats Aldrin favored and merged them with the robe-like garments Luthar preferred. To add her own touch, her attire was reinforced with decorated plate armor.

            "I can feel it as well," Aldrin replied, pivoting his head towards his sister in acknowledgment of her presence. Aldrin opened his mouth to say something else, only to be interrupted as a villager came running up to him and fell to his knees.

            Between deep breaths, he sputtered out a sentence. "Please Lord, spare those of us who remain! We have no weapons! We are no threat to you!" The man begged, looking up at the creature before him with pleading eyes. The man took in the sight of the most menacing creature he had ever seen.

            Aldrin appeared like any other human, only dark patches swirled across his pale gray skin like smoke. Yet, of the most impressive and intimidating sights, Aldrin had chosen to leave his chest bare and unprotected. As if he dared anyone to try and strike a blow. Then there were those eyes. The bright, blood diamond irises of his eyes truly defining him as anything but human.

            The man gulped, second-guessing his last hope to be spared. A hope that was quickly draining away as Aldrin turned to look down at the man, a crude smile etched on his lips. "Very well, mortal. I shall spare you the pain of dying from your wounds. I will free you from the horror you now face," Aldrin promised, offering a gloved hand to the human. He hesitated, eyes darting between the hand and the face of the creature before him.

            He accepted Aldrin's hand, yet just as he was about to thank his new lord, Aldrin yanked the human to his feet, thrusting the point of a long silver dagger through his chest. As the last breaths of air escaped the man, Aldrin murmured into his ear. "I grant you a quick death, mortal filth." As the final word left his lips, Aldrin shoved the corpse off his dagger with his free hand, then proceeded to lick the warm blood off the smooth blade.