It was morning in the forest near the edge of the valley. In a little glade rested two tents, a campfire, and a slightly dour Vampirex. The beauty here was almost aethereal: quiet, unspoiled, unknown. The season's last wild flowers bloomed and the high trees surrounding them made for glowing sunrises and sets with the sun proper blocked but the surrounding aura casting light above the tree line.
Runa, Tiberan, the Vampirex, and Zicone had spent the last few days resting here, well-earned after their recent ordeals. Zicone was much cheerier. He and Tiberan joked around so much that Runa was reminded of her brothers... the savage, trashy bits that she didn't miss. It was nevertheless a wonderful place to relax, tell stories, or try out a bit of new magic.
The Vampirex had earned enough of Zicone's trust to not be watched endlessly. Zicone got the first good sleep he'd had in a month. Unlike the others, the Vampirex didn't need sleep. He instead assumed a meditative pose and he stayed in it all night. The others hadn't awoken yet and the Vampirex was taking advantage of every second of quiet before they rose. One of his eyes peeked open and he sighed. "I was wondering when you'd show your face," he sneered.
"What hope do you have of defeating me?" asked Caligo as he sat across the put-out fire from the Vampirex. Technically he wasn't really there.
"Tsk tsk, Argon," teased the Vampirex, "such an arrogant lad you are. Do you really still think you're undefeatable?"
"A lot has changed in the last two-thousand years, Thalos," Caligo spat.
"Has it now?" the Vampirex tossed, "I beg to differ. I think you've choked on your ego for far too long. You've actually started believing the fiction you've told your drudge."
Caligo stiffened, "You underestimate me, I'll—"
"You know, once upon a time I believed in you," the Vampirex interrupted, "I thought you were to bring peace and order to the Zey^Rey. It was a cause worth fighting for to me... but it was just another lie to you, wasn't it? Strip away the smoke of lies around you and it's clear; you don't have a purpose, Argon. Even I cared about my people." He toyed with his ring for a moment, "All you care about is how many people you can wrap around your finger. It's pathetic." Caligo's jaw twitched, "I don't think even the King of Elos would be proud of you."
"You lie!" growled Caligo.
"You couldn't even ask him if you wanted to," chuckled the Vampirex, "When was the last time you chatted with your precious master?" Caligo glared at the Vampirex, "Oh dear me, you're thinking of all the things you can do to me. You should know that I made accords with all the horror of my life seven thousand years before you were born, Argon. It would be funny to see you try torturing me."
A smile creeped up Caligo's face, "I can resurrect just as easily as I can kill. Have you even forgotten why you followed me last time, you decrepit old fool?"
"You tried that trick on me before. You used her to keep me under your thumb for a thousand years, but it won't work anymore. Resurrect her, kill her; I mourned her loss two-thousand years ago. Alive or dead, all I can do is avenge her when I obliterate you." He delighted as he saw Caligo start to lose face to the Vampirex's piercing gaze.
Zicone poked his head out of his tent to find Caligo sitting across from the Vampirex. "He was just leaving, boy," said the Vampirex to Zicone before he looked back at Caligo, "Don't think I didn't notice you watching us. Watch all you want, you won't stop us. I'm sure it will be one hell of a show, this first act of your own demise." The Vampirex laughed as Caligo faded away.
Zicone stared at the Vampirex, flabbergasted. "Sometimes, boy," the Vampirex snuck a giggle in, "laughter is the best medicine."
"What was he threatening you with?" Zicone asked.
"He was hard pressed to try," the Vampirex shrugged, "Don't think you can be careless, boy. He may not be able to hurt me anymore but he can hurt you." He looked over at Runa and Tiberan as they stirred and emerged from the tents, "Keep your friends close... he could easily make them turn on you."
Zicone looked at the others, "Noted."
***
"You might as well kill me," Vidente lamented. His features were half-obscured by the dim magical light of Caligo's courtroom. His arms were suspended above his head by two pillars of worn, chipped marble and his feet were less than an inch from touching the ground. His hair was grey now, matted to his head by a mixture of sweat and blood. A beard inched its way across his withered, cut, and bruised face.
"Why would I do that?" Argon chuckled with uncannily cheer.
Vidente kept his good eye trained on the king. The other was so purple and swollen that it might as well have been a solid piece of flesh. He tried to construct a sneer, "You'd get the same result!"
Argon kneed Vidente in the stomach. "You are my Prophet," he walked around Vidente thoughtfully, "Your abilities are mine. If you somehow believe you can resist, I don't think you're remembering correctly." He stood in front of Vidente, smiling, "I made you what you are now. I can unmake you... or writhe your body any way I choose."
"You've taken my parents, my wife, and my child from me," stated Vidente, "a thousand years of torture couldn't equal that pain."
"Well," smirked Argon, "If torturing you will get me nowhere, perhaps I need to torture someone else..."
"You've already killed everyone I care about," Vidente dismissed.
"Death," Argon retorted, "is easily reversed!" He clapped loudly. "Bring in the prisoner!" he shouted toward the front doors.
The Prophet looked up from his miseries in surprise. His eye threw a questioning look at the tyrant, who only grinned in response. Argon looked more excited than a child on Yuletide morning. Argon's Zey^Rey nobles poured into the throne room. They arranged in a semi-circle. Behind them, two of the elite guard marched in carrying something.
"Look, my minions," Argon spoke to the assembled, "look upon Vidente. This is the look of a man who has not accepted me as his supreme King; a man who thinks he can defy me." The nobles laughed. Argon ran his tongue past his lips to savor the taste of his own words, "Now, Vidente. Let me show you our latest guest." He clapped twice. The two burly demons clad in golden armor moved forward. They dragged the prisoner clasped between them.
"Enki," gagged Vidente, "No!" He had forgotten Argon's team of Summoners. He cursed himself endlessly.
Enki's face was etched with remnants of horror he shouldn't have experienced. "Dad?" he murmured.
There was no joy in seeing his son alive again. Not here. A saccharine smile came over Argon's face, "I can bring him or your wife or your parents back as many times as I want. I have many, many methods I'm eager to try on them. You can resist pain on your own body, but what about his?" He grabbed Enki's face and forced the boy to stare at his father.
Tears fell out of Vidente's ruined face. As always, his mind filled with visions of many futures. He shook his head, "It doesn't matter, does it? No matter what I say to you, you'll still torture him!"
"Fetch the rack!" Argon chimed to his servants. He leaned down to Enki, "You may thank your papa for this!" His hot, sour breath polluted the boy's lungs.
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Lore of Eternal Shadow: The Fugitive King
Fantasy*New Chapters Every Sunday* The land of Galgaroth is threatened by the return of the ancient tyrant Caligo. The mighty and immortal Zey^Rey people, to whom Caligo is a pariah, are indifferent to Galgaroth's plight and prefer staying in their own sec...