The Dawn of Malice

Living Dead

Caerus walked down the road he used to walk in the mornings.

Unfazed by the crowd, Caerus blended seamlessly with his surroundings, his dark hair and steely grey eyes drawing no more attention than a brushstroke in the grand tapestry of the bustling city. It was a novel sensation, the cloak of normalcy settling upon him like a comfortable shroud. Yet, woven beneath this newfound contentment was an undercurrent of unease, a gnawing feeling that refused to be ignored.

Despite the thrill of anonymity, Caerus couldn’t shake off the shadow that loomed over his euphoria. The very path he tread upon daily, one that now felt almost ordinary, bore witness to a gruesome spectacle of chaos and ruin. His eyes swept over the people passing by their measured steps a stark contrast to the turmoil etched into the landscape.

As the city’s inhabitants moved with muted determination, Caerus’s gaze locked onto a poignant scene. An old woman, a visage of resilience, shuffled by with a young girl at her side, her fiery auburn hair a stark contrast to the grimness of the moment. The child’s tear-streaked face painted a heartbreaking portrait of innocence lost amid the turmoil.

“Grandma, where’s papa and mama?”

“My dear Edith, we are all that’s left.” The elderly woman choked back sobs. “We need to get to safety. Grandpa, Mama, and Papa are gone. They’re in a better place now.”

The elderly woman did her best not to burst into tears as she looked at her granddaughter’s eyes. The girl’s eyes had begun to glaze over, and tears began to stream down her cheeks. The realization finally began to dawn on the poor child. She began to pull back as her grandmother gripped her forearms firmly.

“No! Take me to Mama!” The child demanded, pulling against her grandmother’s grip. “Mama wouldn’t go without me! No! Let me go!” The old woman struggled to keep her grip as the child thrashed and kicked.

“Please Edith,” the old woman implored, her voice a mixture of urgency and love that tugged at the young girl’s heartstrings. “I’m begging you, my dear. We must find safety, for both our sakes.” Her words held a resolute determination, a plea that couldn’t be easily dismissed.

The child, torn between her own fears and the unwavering strength in her grandmother’s voice, found herself captivated by the gravity of the situation. Slowly, her rebellious struggle against her grandmother’s grip subsided, and she allowed herself to be drawn into the embrace of those caring arms.

With a gentle release, the grandmother let go, allowing space for their unspoken connection to take root. The young girl’s eyes, teary and wide, met the gaze of the woman who had become her last anchor in a storm-tossed world. The depth of emotion in her grandmother’s expression held her in place, freezing her steps as if time itself had momentarily stilled. “My dear, please calm down… let’s get to safety…” The old woman begged between sobs.

“I-I-I’m s-s-sorry. Grandma... Mama... I’m sorry...” The little girl’s wails echoed through the air, a heartbreaking symphony of grief. Caerus winced at the heartrending spectacle before him. His city, a haven of tranquility, had been thrust into a nightmarish reality, a stark contrast to the peace he had known.

Amidst the turmoil, a voice as cold as ice pierced the tumultuous atmosphere, a stark juxtaposition against the little girl’s cries. “Quite the scene this early in the morning,” the voice remarked, devoid of empathy. Caerus turned his gaze to the speaker, his expression revealing a mixture of annoyance and disbelief. “Your city seems so different from the last time I came to visit.”

Lucian’s nonchalant demeanor was highlighted by an exhausted yawn, his breath materializing into a misty cloud that danced around his face like ethereal wisps. The hood of his overcoat framed his features, concealing much of his countenance in shadows. It was a stark reminder that even amidst chaos, the enigmatic Laresian maintained an aura of mystery. “Your people did this, Lucian.” Caerus spat.

“Let me remind you, our people did this, Caerus. Now enough with you gawking, let’s go.” Caerus clucked his tongue and averted his gaze. Lucian turned and walked forward. Caerus followed a few steps behind.

Caerus shivered in the cold wind of winter. Still, he kept the hood of his trench coat down not wanting to feel comfort as his people suffered. Lucian on the other hand kept the hood up, which made Caerus curious as to why.

“When had you last visited here?” Caerus said. “The Stone Age?”

“Oh. No. I came to visit a certain baby monkey.” Lucian gave Caerus a wry smile and winked. Caerus scowled at Lucian and the Laresian shrugged. “I appreciate your rhetoric, Caerus, but enough with your sharp tongue.” Lucian’s voice mellowed a bit. “It had been my first encounter with you. A few days after Erasmus saved my life, he brought me here to see you.”

“Then that would be eighteen years ago?”

“Precisely.”

A knot of uncertainty lodged in Caerus’s throat, and he fought to swallow it down. Lucian’s words sounded like something ripped from a fantasy novel – the concept of Lifeblood, the baffling restrictions on Caerus’s control, and the dire repercussions of his existence being discovered – all of it seemed utterly ludicrous. Still, Caerus couldn’t ignore the fact that he owed his continued breaths to this enigmatic man.

Doubt and curiosity mingled within him, a tempest of questions swirling just beneath the surface of his thoughts. But for now, Caerus chose to focus on a single, straightforward inquiry, a question that felt like a lifeline in the midst of the surreal storm Lucian had brought into his life.

“Where are we heading, Lucian?”

“Wouldn’t that be obvious to you by now?” Lucian replied. The irritable tone in his voice returned. They had been walking for hours now, seemingly lost in the crowd of cowering faces.

“Where would that be?” Caerus chased after Lucian. He grabbed onto his elbow ignoring the sudden look of outrage on Lucian’s face.

“Have you ever heard of personal space?”

“Here’s my advice. If you tell me where we’re going, then I’ll keep my distance.”

“What sound advice, Caerus! Then I’ll take up your offer.” Lucian said in an outburst of outstretched hands. “The horse stables of course! How do you think we’ll survive a journey?”

“Journey?!” Caerus replied, equally outraged. “I hadn’t heard anything about a journey, Lucian!”

“Yes. We are going on a journey to get out of this wretched place as soon as possible.” Lucian looked at Caerus like a schoolteacher would look at an illiterate. “Now, if you’ll excuse me. I’m searching for a place to buy our horses.” Lucian’s gaze returned to the road. But in a faint whisper, he said: “Bloody stupid this young man is.”

Caerus shut his mouth, pretending he hadn’t heard. All around him, people were suffering from the fear of impending doom. Children clustered on steps of burnt houses, and a scrawny dog limped across the road. And here they were, wandering around the city looking for a damn horse.

“There won’t be any horses, Lucian,” Caerus whispered feigning caution. His voice was loud enough that Lucian would hear.

“What?” Lucian questioned, but Caerus knew he’d heard him.

“There aren’t any horses left,” Caerus shrugged and pointed toward the waiting army “cause of that.” Lucian turned to where Caerus pointed. His finger pointed in the direction of the ruined walls and the waiting army.

“Impossible! Surely –”

“No. I’m completely certain.” Caerus raised a hand at Lucian making him quiet. “All noble folk who happened to visit here took their horses and left. This is a hillside city, good for sightseeing and hunting but not for protection. The walls won’t last against a prolonged siege. And horses are valuable in this time of crisis.”

Caerus turned to look at Lucian’s reaction. He was listening. He took the bait. Now it was time for Caerus to reel in his catch. “Even if you find horses they’ll be at a high price and –”

“No,” Lucian spoke cutting off Caerus’s spiel. “I have the money to buy a horse at any price.” Lucian reached into his coat and procured a bag of red velvet. He jiggled the bag, and the sounds of coins were enough to keep Caerus from speaking. A few of the city’s newly orphaned children stared at the velvet pouch longingly. But the scowl on Lucian’s face managed to scare them away.

“And it’ll be the last you see of this amount of money if you go down the road to ruin,” Lucian added to the children before stuffing the bag of coins into his coat pocket. Eyeing the alleyways and street for any potential pickpockets. “Now, shall we continue on our way? Or must you stop me and gawk at every passing plebeian?”

Caerus shrank and fell silent. “Of course, not… Lead the way.” Caerus said.

Lucian turned and stomped forward. Caerus followed listlessly, trying to avoid seeing the people in their plight. But it was too much for him to bear. With every corner they turned, were children, the elderly, and other hopeless souls looking for refuge. He can’t leave the city. Not like this.

Then, Caerus stopped.

Just a few feet from him – right across the street – was Elaine. She stood behind a table, filled with baskets of bread, handing out food. Beside her was the now wounded Marseille. His right arm was wrapped in bandages and a pair of crutches leaned against his chair. Caerus stared at her wide-eyed. He hadn’t noticed that Lucian had led him straight to Fox Street, where Marseille’s tavern was left in ruins.

Despite the weight of sorrow etched on Elaine’s face, marred by the marks of devastation and the soot of tragedy, her spirit remained unbroken. Her determination to aid others shone through the darkness like a guiding light. In that fleeting instant, Caerus’s wavering uncertainty solidified into unwavering resolve. The intimidating presence of Lucian, once a looming specter, now paled in comparison to the urgency of the moment.

The only lingering question now was whether his fledgling plan held enough promise to yield the desired outcome. It was a gamble, a daring bet against the odds. Yet, as the gravity of the situation settled upon him, Caerus couldn’t help but feel a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, his idea held the key to turning the tide. Caerus moved across the street, knowing full well that Lucian would follow. And as predicted, Lucian caught his arm and pulled him back.

“What in Pirof’s name are you doing?”

“Apparently you’re fine with taking the name of your god in vain.” Caerus whipped back inching closer to Lucian. “I’m going to help my people, whether you’d like me to or not!” Caerus glowered, his eyes glowing red for a split second, daring Lucian to talk back. Lucian didn’t even flinch as Caerus glared into Lucian’s eyes, putting all his contempt for the Laresian. The elder Laresian did nothing but glare in return. A heavy silence came over the two as they locked eyes.

“Fine, have it your way!” Lucian’s retort cut through the tension, his voice laced with frustration. With an unexpected force, he pushed Caerus away, a departure from the composed demeanor he had maintained until now. In a storm of emotions, Lucian stormed off, his footsteps echoing his inner turmoil.

Caerus grinned as Lucian left and lifted his light hands. Dangling in between his thumb and index finger was Lucian’s velvet pouch of gold coins. He chuckled to himself before he spun and briskly walked toward Elaine.

“If you’re hearing this Lucian, here’s a tip. Plebeians like me tend to have light fingers, years on the streets taught me a few tricks.” Caerus whispered to himself. His plan had worked wonderfully.

Caerus had a smug expression on his face as he walked across the street. The velvet pouch full of gold was placed snugly in his coat. The weight of it felt awkward to Caerus, he’d never held this much in his life.

Gazes fixated on him, a mix of puzzlement, frustration, and envy reflected in their eyes. Whispers floated through the air, a chorus of disbelief and critique. “Why’s he grinning when things are so messed up?” they murmured, some even suggesting he might be losing his mind. Yet, undaunted by their judgmental chatter, Caerus kept moving ahead, resolute in his choice to shrug off their disapproving looks.

But nothing could prepare Caerus for seeing his beloved Elaine.

His heart lurched at the sight of her, a gasp of disbelief caught in his throat. In just three short days, she had transformed, and not in a way that made his heart sing. Her once-golden locks now held the aftermath of chaos, frizzled, and singed like flames had licked at them. The dress she wore, the very one she had adorned on that fateful day, was now a tattered canvas of red, marred by the cruel embrace of fire. The fabric bore witness to the havoc it had endured, with scorch marks and tattered edges as a testament to the turmoil.

Her hands, once delicate and gentle, were swathed in bandages, the ashen cloth telling a story of wounds that ran deeper than he could fathom. The stains that bled through the wraps told a story of pain and struggle that had left its mark. Even her feet had not escaped unscathed, clad only in makeshift wrappings that barely protected her soles from the harsh reality she traversed.

Yet, what struck him most was the determined fire in her eyes, an unwavering resolve that belied the weariness etched across her form. And beneath her left arm, a grip that held both balance and strength, a testimony to her unyielding spirit.

Despite all her troubles, she wore a smile on her face as she handed out bread. Caerus could feel his heart swoon. She’d done everything for others despite the pain she was going through. As Elaine passed a loaf of bread to a man, that vaguely resembled a coat rack, a little girl pulled gently on her dress.

Elaine leaned forward and patted the girl’s messy tuff of brown hair. Caerus could see her wince at the tenderness of her bandaged palm. Yet, her smile did not waver. The girl giggled and stretched out her hand. She clutched a teddy bear whose leg was torn off and stuffing had spilled out.

“For you,” The girl said. She stretched out her hand giving the stuffed toy to Elaine.

“What a lovely gift!” Elaine exclaimed with honest joy. “Can I ask for your name?”

The child smiled. “My name is Edith. And over there is my grandma Lucy.” The girl pointed out an exhausted old woman at the end of the street. Elaine gave her a wave to which the old woman waved back.

“Don’t you think Mr. Teddy would rather stay with you, Edith?” Elaine asked.

“But you’re so pretty.” The little girl looked up. Her cheeks flushed pink. “I’m sure Mr. Teddy would like to stay with you.”

Elaine’s lips curved into a familiar smile, that very smile she reserved for moments when words fell short. Caerus felt a rush of warmth floods his chest, his heart drumming a rapid beat of recognition. Though Elaine attempted to speak, the words remained elusive, caught in the tangle of emotions that swirled between them. In place of words, her smile deepened a silent promise that needed no utterance.

With a delicate grace, Elaine reached out and gently accepted the teddy bear, cradling it as if it held the weight of a precious memory. A tender gesture followed, as she leaned in and pressed a kiss against the young girl’s forehead, a gentle benediction that conveyed all the love and reassurance that words could never capture.

“Thank you. But I think you’re prettier than me.”

The girl bounced on her toes in delight. The girl’s hand was clasped behind her as she swayed from side to side. She ran off with a skip in her step. As Elaine stood up, she caught sight of Caerus standing in the middle of the street. She froze, and Caerus’s mind was sent into a flurry of panic. Caerus turned – rather quickly – as he did what first came to mind – which was to run.

“Caerus?” Elaine’s words came like gunshots.

Caerus’s breath hitched, his body locking in place as if caught in a sudden frost. He knew this moment would come. He cursed himself immensely for not thinking this through. But it was too late now, and it was too much of a risk to reveal himself. He stood there contemplating what to do next. Time seemed suspended as he stood there, trapped within the confines of his own dilemma. His mind raced, a frantic whirlwind of possibilities taking shape, each path fraught with its own set of dangers. But before he could even begin to chart his course of action, Elaine’s grip tightened around his arm, and with a determined yank, she spun him around.

Caught off guard, Caerus’s wide eyes met Elaine’s gaze, and in that heartbeat, a storm of emotions raged within him. Fear coiled around his heart, its icy fingers tightening their grip, while a surge of anticipation coursed through his veins, electrifying his every nerve. The world seemed to narrow down to that one pivotal instant, where the next move he made could change the course of everything.

“Caerus!” Elaine exclaimed in surprise. Caerus could hear her worry crash against him like a brick wall.

“No.” Caerus blurted out. His mind worked like molasses.

“What? No? Caerus it’s you! You made it out alive. I’m just, I mean –” Elaine didn’t finish her sentence. Her words were replaced by tears and sobs.

A sense of déjà vu washed over Caerus, a haunting repetition of the scene beneath the ancient oak. Yet, this time, he couldn’t embrace her presence as he had before. To do so would be to endanger her, to invite a storm of consequences that he couldn’t bear. The memory of that earlier encounter, stained with spilled blood and heart-wrenching tears, was etched too deeply in his mind. He was determined to shield Elaine from such pain once more, resolved not to subject her to the same heartbreak again.

“Madam,” Caerus started out slowly. His voice edged toward sobs, but he reigned in his sorrow. “I’m afraid you have mistaken me for someone else.” Caerus pulled back his hand, a little too forcefully, because Elaine’s expression turned sour.

“But it’s you!”

Caerus struggled to hold back his tears. And in doing so, it gave him an expression of distaste. Elaine pulled back in fright and Caerus wasn’t surprised by her reaction. He’d known the face of fear – he’d seen it in every person in this city as they saw his crimson eyes – but it was wrong to see it on Elaine.

“No,” Caerus began again. “I’m afraid you’ve mistaken me for my cousin” Caerus had simply repeated his words. But he knew Elaine would not protest – the look on her face was enough to know that.

“But I did come to bring good news,” Caerus said. He watched Elaine’s expression soften, but the look of grief was still there. “My name is-” Caerus paused, he hadn’t thought of a name beforehand and the thought of his father flashed in his mind “Thomas” He’d managed to blurt out. And in his best impression of Lucian’s snarky holier-than-thou voice, he managed to say, “I am the nephew of Linda Kietz from the city of Glascos visiting my aunt’s son before all this happened. I’ve come to pass on his inheritance from our grandmother. Perhaps he is the man you seek, since but I’m assured that he had died in the siege. My next task was to speak to the next of kin. Do you know of anyone close to Caerus?”

Caerus watched as Elaine’s expression darkened once again. He felt his gut twist and his heart clench. But he continued. “He is owed this,” Caerus hefted the pouch of coins from his coat pocket and deposited it into Elaine’s hands. “In the event of his death, I am tasked to give a person named Elaine his inheritance as stated in his last will and testament,” Caerus stated with as much disdain as he could to avoid suspicion. “I believe you are the one I seek. Hopefully, you’ll take this opportunity to run while you still can.”

As Caerus uttered his words, a mask of emotions flickered across Elaine’s face, rendering her expression inscrutable. A heavy silence enveloped them, punctuated only by the soft rustling of the velvet pouch cradled in her grasp. Yet, defying expectations, Elaine didn’t tuck the pouch away as one might anticipate. Instead, her actions caught Caerus off guard as she extended the pouch back toward him.

A mixture of surprise and something akin to regret tugged at Caerus’s heart. Her gaze, laden with a bittersweet longing, lingered on him for a fleeting moment, imprinting an image he knew would remain etched within his thoughts. In that instant, the weight of his decision bore down upon him, and a pang of remorse gnawed at his resolve.

“I have no need for freedom when my people are oppressed.” The surprise on Caerus’s face was evident as Elaine’s expression turned from longing to anger in a split second. Her eyes filled with disgust. “My Caerus would know that I will not betray my people.”

“But the inheritance states–”

“No. I won’t accept it. If you wish to have it, then be my guest. But I will not leave the people of Liliosa.” Elaine said before she turned and hobbled back toward her table. Caerus stood in the middle of the street completely stunned. He listened as the sound of Elaine’s crutch tapping on the pavement faded.

Caerus clenched his jaw and pivoted to stride away. With each step, his mind raced in sync with his footsteps, his carefully constructed scheme unraveling before him. Elaine’s rejection of the opportunity for freedom echoed in his thoughts, a bitter reminder of his failed intentions. Frustration gripped him, his fists curling into tight knots at his sides. The echoes of his conversation with Elaine resounded through his mind, every word and gesture replaying like a broken record.

Caerus trudged down the street, his once-confident grin replaced by a somber expression. His thoughts drifted to her, a cascade of memories unveiling the portrait of a woman who had always epitomized integrity. A fighter through and through, she stood unwavering even when faced with daunting odds. Amidst the sinking disappointment, a newfound sentiment rose above the tumult – admiration. The girl he once perceived as frail and powerless had transformed into a woman of remarkable strength. But now, a tide of anger and shame surged within him. Anger at himself for ever entertaining the thought of Elaine’s betrayal, and shame that he could have ever doubted her character.

“Elaine never left the city,” Caerus muttered to himself. “Her heart always stayed with us – with me.”

He took a turn at an unknown street and found himself hopelessly lost. Normally, he would have known immediately where he was but the devastation in the city had changed it dramatically. Just then a familiar and insufferable voice came from behind him.

“And where do you presume your head will be, boy?”

Caerus turned. Lucian stood behind him with an expression of amusement on his face. “If this was the army and I was a higher officer, then your head would’ve been on a pike.” Lucian’s voice was cheerful despite the grim analogy. He came within inches of Caerus’s face. “Have you been taught a lesson on a woman’s integrity?”

Caerus could smell cinnamon and the stale bread on Lucian’s breath. And he knew instantly where he’d been all this time. “Now hand over my coin pouch and we’ll get our things ready.”

“But how did you –”

“Know what you were thinking?” Lucian finished. “It takes years of practice to try to fool me, Caerus. Years you won’t have if you do not come with me. Though, your endeavors truly were amusing.”

“Do you really expect me to come with you?!” Caerus screamed, pushing Lucian back which surprised even the well-mannered gentleman. Lucian’s cheerful expression became hostile.

“I won’t let my city be destroyed!” Caerus growled.

“Then die with your people,” Lucian answered his tone calmly despite his angered expression. “But when the corpses are tallied don’t blame me. You see, boy, the world doesn’t bend to all your needs. Sometimes, you will have to follow the law of order and chaos.”

“Don’t talk to me about order and chaos! Before your people came to our lands we were at peace.” Caerus turned but Lucian pulled him back.

“We are not betraying your people! Fool! We are going to save them.”

“How?”

“By raising reinforcements,” Lucian said in exasperation. His shoulders slouched and he rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Now let’s find a place away from the soot and ash. We don’t have much time left.”