Forgotten Heir: Realm Doors Book One

Chapter Eight

As Cara stumbled, half awake, into the barn, Kalidir looked up, his expression gentle.

“You didn’t scream last night,” he told her. “Yet you still look as exhausted as you were when you went to bed.”

In the weeks since Ric’s departure the nightmares had returned with vengeance. Cara's only comfort was that, somewhere in the four worlds, they were plaguing Ric too. Was that cruel? Did she care? She treasured the connection, even though she shouldn't.

I shrugged unhappily. “Ric doesn’t fear his past the way I fear mine, not anymore. It’s harder to scream at memories when any terror to exist originally has long since been replaced with regret.”

Kalidirs watched her more closely at that, his brows drawing down over his curious bronze eyes.

“You dreamed Ric’s memories? Has that ever happened before?”

It worried him, the link she had to her vampire ex. It had grown stronger since they’d swapped blood so freely. Sometimes she’d even be sideswiped by waves of emotion that come from Ric, wherever he was, rather than from herself.

She shook her head, feeling gloomy and picking at the hem of her t-shirt.

“I think he wanted me to see this. I saw what should have been his death but wasn’t. I saw his first kill as a vampire, a girl he’d loved but drained before he really understood what he was doing.”

Kalidir questioned her in amazement, “Isabella? She actually existed?”

She chewed her thumb nail. “Yeah, she existed. You know about her?”

He shrugged as he skewered some bread to toast for her. Cara shakes her head at him, not feeling hungry, but he would make her breakfast anyway, concerned by how little she eat ate. She was sick of toast, uht milk, and beans, although she wasn’t sure what she did crave. Thankfully the snow was beginning to melt and Luke said he’d be able to get his motorbike out soon. He promised to locate some fresh food, like bacon and eggs. She suspected their vampire companions were keen to visit some living donors too.

Staring into the fire, it took Kalidir a moment to answer her question. “They say that The Lady blames Isabella for Ric’s disobedience. No vampire, especially none she’s sired, leaves The Lady of their own accord. Ye, during the first war, Ric refused to follow her order to attack Galahidras. He hurt The Lady’s pride, he was her favourite, her most doted on knight, and he left her.”

Cara wondered about the first war and about Ric’s past, curious. “Tell me about The Lady, tell me what happened between them.”

Reluctance showed in her teacher’s expression. There was a lot of things Kalidir didn’t want to tell her. He’d been reluctant to discuss her aunt. He felt reluctant to discuss her father’s work. At her requests to know more, he always replied the same way; ‘Later, my princess.’ On that particular day, she I didn’t need to be disappointed. Although Kalidir wasn’t ready to tell the tale, Luke seemed happy to oblige as he flopped to the rug by the fire, clutching a pint of blood.

“Ulrich captivated the Lady in a way none of her other ‘children’ had. She loved men - loved surrounding herself with them - but her consorts were only ever at her side for a matter of years, decades at best. She doted on Ulrich for almost two centuries without faltering. She taught him the ways of our world in a time before donors and bars and Realm Doors. The Lady taught him to be a predator, stealthy in the hunt and quick at the kill.

“That’s what we were to mortals back then, death, and to us they were simply food. We looked at humans as you would look at a cow or pig. Ulrich didn’t appreciate the feeling of a slowing pulse and failing heart the way his sire did, however, and he was among the few of our kind who started to leave their victims alive. Terrified, yes, but alive. In any other The Lady would have seen that as a weakness, in him it fascinated her. His love for breathing life, a that drove him to show mercy where she would destroy, intrigued her because she couldn't understand it. The Lady is often thought to be an empath in that she senses emotions of others. She never understood him though.

“In return for her teaching and her protection Ulrich seemed devoted to her, serving her as any of us would our maker. We are compelled to be loyal to or sires, to obey their commands. We aren’t forced to do their bidding but in a way our sires are our parents and through some sense of appreciation we become loyal. He was her mate, and her play thing, and her right hand. Even though their relationship was sometimes tempestuous, Ulrich didn’t often show any degree of disobedience.

“When the first war started between the three supernatural realms, The Lady had enough devoted followers to form one of the largest vampire armies to do battle. Ric wasn’t made general at first, although he’d been a knight his real war experience was limited. Still, as the war intensified, he proved to have both tactical and fighting ability beyond even the more worldly vampires. He progressed his way up the ranks to become her commander.

“At first the wolves were the obvious enemy; they had started the attacks on Blutholme and Galahidras, and it seemed there might form a tentative alliance between elves and vampires. It was not to be. The mistrust between the species was too great and we fought each other as well. When The Lady ordered Ric to attack Galahidras, he refused, saying that the wolves were the enemy, not the elahdril. He said that vampires and elahdril should find a way to work together, rather than war among themselves.

“She was holding court at one of her estates in Blutholme when a messenger delivered his refusal. She called him back into her presence, demanding again that he attack Karycadra. Again he refused, in front of her other followers. He did a dangerous thing that day; the Lady is a vain woman and he was her favourite. To have him mutiny against her was impossible for her to understand. She ordered her bodyguards to kill him, but Ulrich beheaded or staked every vampire stupid enough to attempt following her orders. He fled from her court, followed by her assassins, and joined a small band of vampire soldiers who refused to attack the elahdril unless the elves made the first move against their party.

“Over time the band of ‘elf lovers’, as The Lady sneered at them, gained strength and influence. Ulrich led them well and their numbers swelled. They were the elite among vampire warriors, slaying more wolves than any other group. Ulrich inspired vampires and elves, and was feared by the wolves, so much so that no elahdril legion would willingly attack his men for fear of giving the wolves back their advantage.  Even The Lady had to admit Ulrich was untouchable and call back the bounty hunters she had ordered after him.

“The war was hard on all of the races, and we all lost many friends and family. Each of the realms was burning and in turmoil. Without peace each realm would have been destroyed. Three figure heads were chosen from the warring peoples to negotiate a peace treaty and bring about an end to the fighting. The vampires chose Ulrich as their delegate and he proved to be as enthusiastic and capable of creating peace as he had been at excelling in war. He made many friends, but there is no doubt among our kind that The Lady would always be his enemy. When he disappeared from the public eye, many thought she’d finally succeeded in killing him.

“Then, when his name began appearing again six years ago, whispered furtively and speaking of a return, we started to feel like we might have a chance to defeat the wolves and saving Blutholme after all, even without the help of the elahdril. But then he vanished again and we doubted he’d really come back at all. He might as well be dead to us as he is.”

What an admission. Cara had been sought out by the vampires because they could not turn to the general they’d truly hoped would return, a general who couldn’t return because of the same elahdrilas princess they’d been forced to turn to.

“So I’m your last hope, because I destroyed your last hope.”

Luke didn’t mask his affirmation of her theory well.

Kalidir rubbed his hands together, considering Luke’s tale, stating, “The prophecies are about the last elahdrilas, not the general who brought peace in centuries gone by.”

Luke shrugged. “Either way, Ulrich Bernstein would have been a valuable ally. Ric Burn is not.”

“He might yet be a useful ally,” Kalidir responded, pondering the possibilities. “He and Nekyra are tied to each other in a way none of us understand. When the fighting starts, he may have no choice but to come to her side.”

Luke snorted derisively, contempt in his eyes. “For all our sakes, I hope not. High treason will be more of a hindrance than a help.”

Cara could’ve felt annoyed at Luke and Kalidir, debating the possibilities as if she wasn't there, but she couldn’t find it in her to be angry. In all honesty, she could see Luke’s point after her last display of self control, or lack thereof, around Ric.

She pulled my knees up against her chest, curling into the protective ball she’d adopted as her favourite position. It wasn’t as though she coped better without Ric, though, and she knew each of her three ‘protectors’ were concerned about her instability. She hoped Anthony and Luke’s proximity would help prevent the nightmares returning, but it hadn’t. 

Her introspection had to be pushed aside as her stomach growled, and Kalidir passed a slice of toast without so much as saying ‘told you so’. Her nose scrunched up in response. The bread smelled funny. When she took a bite, she found the mouthful to be as dry as eating ash and just as repugnant. It stuck to her tongue and the roof of her mouth, so that she gagged and dropped the remains of her breakfast in the fire. There was another smell which caught her attention, though, a far more tempting aroma. The scent was rich and only slightly meaty, and she knew if she could only just find the source, she'd be satisfied. 

Frowning, Cara turned her head, following her nose to face Luke. With a growing sense of concern, her gaze dropped to the half drunk jar of blood in his hands. The red liquid looked divine, and she know that was what she could smell. In her mind’s eye, she saw the brief image of a girl, her head tipped back seductively, her pulse flickering irresistibly at her throat. She staggered to her feet as she felt the heat of the young woman's blood flow into her mouth. An insatiable desire to devour consumed her as she tasted the sweetness of the fresh blood warming my throat.

Her eyes were still locked on the jar in Luke’s hand as he moved it, inquisitive, exploratory, noting the flick of her gaze as she followed the blood.

“Ric’s feeding,” he announced in disbelief. “She can feel it, taste it maybe.”

Kalidir rose to his feet, guardedly stepping towards her to place a hand on her cheek, attempting to bring her back to herself. Cara could hear the pulse in his wrist, the pounding of his heart in his chest. She could see the regular jump of the veins and arteries in his neck. An unintentional hiss escaped her. She starved, and right then Kalidir smelled like food, the most delectable food. Ric’s bloodlust was strong but controlled as he feds from his donor, but she didn't know how to inhibit the echo which tormented her. She wasn't vampire. She hadn't spent centuries learning how to restrain the raw desire to bite and drink. Her hiss became a growl and Kalidir dropped his hand, taking a step back.

Through a sense that belonged to Ric rather than herself, she smelled Kalidir’s fear and alarm bells sounded in her baffled brain, wailing ‘what are you doing?’ As suddenly as Ric’s thirst had come upon her it dissipated, leaving her panting and dizzy. She felt ill, so very ill. Her stomach heaved and she gagged again, and after running to the door, she vomited into the melting snow.

Returning to her side again, Kalidir held her hair back as she wretched. When the sickness faded, he stood beside her in silence, not sure how to help. Even when he wilted and sat down in the open doorway, he did so without speaking. Just as quietly, she perched beside him, resting against him and lowering her head to his shoulder in abject misery. His arm went protectively around her back as his chin rested lightly on her head, and together they stared out at the slowly melting whiteness. He held her tight as one of his hands found one of hers, and he let her cry against him.

Finally he murmured, “I hope there is an opportunity in this, that your understanding of the vampires will help you unite our races. I’ll want to destroy Ulrich for doing this to you if your suffering has no purpose.”

Raising her glassy, red rimmed eyes, Cara admired Kalidir as he fought with his protective anger. She didn’t want to see him tortured by his concern for her, no more than he wanted to see her tormented by Ric’s life.

She sighed, pushing her gut-wrenching misery deeper within her soul and readying herself to move on. Rolling her shoulders to ease her tension, she asked,, “Alright, my teacher, what is it going to be today?”

He sighed too accepted that her decision to push the morning’s problems aside was for the best; there was no use crying over spilled milk. Kalidir mulled over the possibilities, more of them available in the wake of the spirit walk.

She had started using magic, at least. She could heat water from icy cold to lukewarm, though boiling it was still beyond her. She even manage to guess, on average, one out of every five of the mind-reading test cards. It wasn’t much progress, but Kalidir made the most of it. Personally, Cara didn’t feel the nightmare of the soul walk had been worth the torment, not for such a slight increase in power.

Maybe her thoughts we clear in her expression, or maybe Kalidir wanted to boost her confidence as he finally answered. “The bow.”

Cara couldn’t help the quick grin she awarded the elf; no matter how bad she felt, she loved learning to use weapons. The sword remained a firm favourite, her strongest weapon and the one to awaken the most sorcery. The bow would do, though.

“I’ll get my coat,” she replied.

Elahdril long bows were large, heavy, and many times more powerful than any human bow. Because of the strength of the weapon, they had to train outside in the snow. It was good practise, adjusting for the wind and the numbing cold, after all, most battles wouldn’t be fought around a camp fire.

They plodded through the snow side by side. Or rather, Cara plodded while Kalidir glided over the surface, leaving barely a footprint in his wake. He carried the two bows as well as a quiver of arrows, and she wondered how her people managed to tread so lightly when she struggled not to stumble. Despite her unsteadiness, she enjoyed the feel of the breeze on her face and the way the snow only came halfway up her shins rather than to her knees. She could almost allow herself a sense of enjoyment as they trekked towards the makeshift range where the targets were lined up.

Kalidir smiled as he noticed her shoulders finally relax. “I think it’s time for a challenge.”

“Oh?” She queried expectantly, kicking up the snow.

“Hmmm,” Kalidir grinned teasingly as he as he handed her one of the bows.

She took it, watching him grab an arrow from the quiver with a grace she’d never manage to achieve.  A sense of anticipation settled over her as he strung the arrow to the other bow. He drew the string back, aiming carefully towards rock further up the trail. In the second he loosed the arrow, he commanded ‘Tyan!” and blue flame lit up the arrowhead as it whistled through the air. By the time the arrow hit the centre of the rock, the ball of fire exploding in a shower of silver sparks, she was already dreading any attempt to copy.

Trudging gloomily to where the smouldering elven missile melted through the snow, she whispered, “I can’t even light a fire or boil water back at the barn, never mind when I’m concentrating on aiming an arrow.”

Kalidir patted her back confidently. “Don’t think about it. You expend far too much energy thinking about what you’re doing. You try too hard and it’s detrimental. Our powers come more from feeling and instinct than from thinking about how to force the energy out of our core and into something else. You know you can fire the bow, and we both know how much power you have when you do. Just say the word and feel the heat as you release the arrow.” He picked the undamaged and extinguished projectile from the icy ground. “Come on, my lady, it isn’t far to the targets.”

As they reached their destination, a usually comforting place for Cara, she couldn’t help but feel worried. She searched her being for the spark that would light the arrows, but she couldn’t find it. Kalidir was correct; she did over think, a fault created by years of being warned her magic would tear her apart if she tried to harness it. She stressed so much that her body didn’t even flare with its usual war sorcery as she released the string for the first time. Her initial shot flew wide, missing the target completely and her whispered ‘tyan’ was ineffectual.

“You’re worrying to much,” Kalidir reprimanded gently. “Feel the wind move against you. Feel the power of the bow in your hands as you draw. F the smoothness of the arrows shaft as you let it fly.” He smiled reassuringly as he lightly repositioned her stance. “And be elahdril, Kyra.” He stepped round her, continuing to check her posture. “This mask you wear is not necessary up here, and it doesn’t benefit you. Glamours use up energy you could make better use of elsewhere. We are always stronger in our true form, just like the vampires and the wolves. Stop being held back by Cara Rhine and allow yourself to be Nekyra ris hala ris Rhynlas.”

The part of her spirit which had been battered by Rowlisa of Vonagh rebelled against that latest suggestion, but with a deep breath she released the glamour, letting the world see her true self.

“Let myself be elahdril? Am I elahdril, Kalidir? I’ve spent my whole life being human, and I had only just started to become an elahdril again when suddenly I feel vampire. What am I Kalidir?”

He hid a wince at her words but answered reassuringly, “You are the last elahdrilas.” Kalidir tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “As clear as the sun is the sun and the moon is the moon, my Queen, you are elahdrilas and most fair among our people.”

It should’ve been impossibly to feel both elated and deeply disturbed at the same time, but she managed it with the ease of someone well practised at confusion.

“You called me Queen.”

With a quick flash of a smile and a wink, Kalidir indicated towards the targets again, pushing her to shoot and not willing to respond to her statement. It bothered her, Kalidir’s need to honour her and his desire for her to become a leader he’d willingly follow into battle. She raised the bow again, barely thinking about the target as I considered her supposed destiny. Her mind distracted, her body reacted naturally to the feel of the weapon, pulling on the spark of magic which started in her heart and spread through her limbs. She didn’t notice though, as she considered what it would mean to rule Galahidras.

“Tyan!” she sighed as she released the arrow, only to be blinded by the shower of the sparks which rain down around her as the missile ignited unexpectedly. The arrow struck true at the heart of the target, in an explosion of blue flame, leaving Cara to gawk open mouthed after it.

A broad grin split Kalidir’s face. “I told you it would come if you stopped thinking about it.”

She obliged him with a grin of my own now, drawing another arrow from the quiver and notching it to the bow again. The flame came easily once she glowed with the magic of the guard, and she barely needed to think the eladrilian word for fire before the head of her arrow blazed brilliantly. Kalidir picked up his own bow, aiming at the target next to Cara’s, firing in time with her. They practise together until mid afternoon and were both beaming when they trotted back to the barn and the waiting vampires.

‘I am elahdril,’ she told herself  as she sauntered over the mountain trails. Her feet tread lighter in the snow as she thought it.