A tale of vampires and angels: Demons rising

Chapter Four: Soren- The wedding from hell (literally)

Soren watched the elf and the angel walk off in a seemingly stunned silence. Casting his gaze towards the princess, he recognised that from her closed off body language and absently averted eyes, she was awkward in conversation. The thought made him smile. Her previously hostile demeanour was almost tangible, and yet when it came to matters of love, it was as though she was an inexperienced kitten.

Amongst the ruckus and calamity of the bustling vampires, and the crowd of frightened angels, a white crow landed on his shoulders. The prince scowled, but remained facing forward, unmoving at the foot of his throne. Paying no attention, he addressed the tall angel in front of him.

"I assume you are the Butler to the Princess," he mused, raising a sceptic eyebrow. Despite his forward remarks, the pale faced angel struck Soren as more of a hunter. His rounded face and streaky blonde hair gave him an unusually youthful appearance. The angel straightened his waistcoat and pulled up to full height. Soren grinned inwardly.

"Yes, I am indeed," he said simply. Soren could feel the mock friendliness dripping from his voice and, in truth, he found The Princess' hostility more refreshing than this angels faked attitude The prince let out a long breath.

"Look," Soren sighed with a curl of his lip, "I am touched by your attempt at kindness, and true, I am- as the Ruler of my kind, probably the object for the pinnacle of your hate," he paused to take a breath, "but if you are going to hate me, I'd rather you not to try and hide it. I have no time for people who are not honest with themselves, let alone time enough for this interminable war of ours."

An unfathomable look came across the angel's face as though he had heard such words before. On the Prince's shoulder the White raven squawked. A sudden emission of pale fog engulfed the creature as it began to take flight. Soren stepped back as Tarsquen appeared before him in from where the raven was gliding moments ago. The outlandish vampire wasted no time in offering a sly grin to the angel, who was spluttering in disbelief.

"What a lovely speech, Lord Ventrue. Though mightn't I add that this is a formal occasion, and it would be advised you keep your opinions better guarded? You know how the elders are." The unusually charismatic vampire plucked a feather from his snowy hair and frowned. Flicking it aside he offered a hand to the angel.

"Tarsquen Ventrue," he said with a forced smile that to any other would have seemed entirely genuine. The angel reluctantly took the hand with and with a visible flinch, attempted to return the so called 'good natured' smile. The butler's eyes wondered to the half broken horn upon the albino vampire's head and winced.

Tarsquen's unusual behaviour never ceased to serve as amusement for the Prince. He, unlike most, was an oddly amiable vampire who had made himself acquainted with many races in the recent years. Thus the elders, (who were keen to contain vampires among themselves) often criticised his informality. Soren could tell that now, however, Tarsquen was putting on one magnificent act. The Prince knew that Tarsquen hated the angels with an unparalleled passion.

"Brother mine, I think it best you leave them be." The prince hinted, shooting a look to his pale companion. The blood red eyes of the vampire glowed furiously for a moment, before smouldering into a cold, placid burgundy. The angel butler interrupted with a splutter:

"Brother?" He said with a sharp intake of breath. Soren glanced up at the boy through dead eyes. Reaching out, he grabbed a goblet from a vampire coming round with trays of glasses containing a thick, red liquid, and swirled it thoughtfully. Before he could reply, Tarsquen cut in.

"Twins, actually," he sniffed, lifting his head, perhaps through pride, or an assertion of power. The angel's eyes flickered back and forth between both vampires, stunned into silence by the stark difference and impossibility of the situation. After blinking furiously, he at last whispered:

"I've never heard of vampire twins," Soren would have felt content to have left him to his thoughts, but Tarsquen, feeling the need to be informative, scratched the back of his head and grinned menacingly.

"That's because if a vampire is born with another sibling they usually eat each other in the womb," The butler's face turned a shocking green. "...though for some reason, we didn't. Odd, huh?"

Soren twisted his face into an unmannerly grimace. Tarsquen was such an odd vampire. 

A ceremonial trumpet interrupted their thoughts. Tarsquen rolled his eyes, and the Butler cast around for his Mistress frantically. In the time of their talking, an arch had been decorated and a golden carpet laid out. Bright white candles were strewn here and there and floated in the air, suspended by a vampire's magic. Soren hadn't even noticed that the couple had already positioned themselves.

Edrec was standing under the arch, one hand drawn up to his stomach, surrounded by a cluster of fretting vampire nobles. Following the carpet down, Soren glimpsed the angel queen. Her dark hair was loose and wavy, and she was fitted in a long, autumnal dress that contrasted her bright green eyes. The long snowy wings behind her were folded neatly, and seemed to glimmer under the faint candle light that adorned the room.

Soren took his seat on the throne as both the Butler and the albino vampire hurried to take their places. With one swift swipe of his wings, the Butler was smiling at his mistress' side, as if all notion of the previous conversation had vanished. Soren took a sip from his glass and waited. A cluster of angels behind the queen had taken to playing the strings and other various instruments that had been set out prior to their arrival.

Slowly, the Princess, led by her butler, was escorted down the aisle, towards the king of the Elves, who was waiting with a grand smile on his face. Soren peered at the princess. She looked content, yet underneath he sensed her fear, and her longing for something; something other than this. To him, she was clearly a warrior, not a princess.

A shift in the air brought the Prince to his senses. Underneath the music and laughter, and the tangible hatred from both races, a faint rumbling shook the earth. It wasn't enough to alert the other guests or vampires, who senses were weak compared to his own, but enough to cause suspicion in his mind. As another tremor shook the earth, Soren shot up from his chair. The princess, too, was standing still. She had felt it. Her mouth was moving in silent spell as she motioned for her butler to stand behind her.

The candles began to flicker and something sparked in the dulling room. The lights dimmed to an unearthly red, and a huge rumbling shook dust from the rooftops. This time, everyone felt it. Screams rang out in the air as angels and vampires alike lurched from their seats. A horrible gurgling sound hung in the room and a wretched stink hit Soren's nose causing him to gag.

All at once the room was filled with the white eyes of a thousand demons. Then, the whole room launched into a massacre.