The Dawn of Malice

Reinforcements

Lucian took just a few steps before leaping into the air.

Caerus stared up at him from below. The elder gentleman had jumped to the roof of a three-story building with such ease that Caerus’ mouth was left agape.

“What are you waiting for?” Lucian shouted from above. “No one’s looking.”

“How?!” Caerus replied.

Lucian gave the young man an exasperated sigh and dropped back down. He’d jumped right in front of Caerus, their faces only a few inches apart. He had forgotten that Caerus was incognizant. He made his eyes glow just to see how the young man would react. As expected, Caerus took a step back his face contorted in fear.

“You can feel the blood pumping inside your body, correct?” Lucian said. “All you must do is have all that blood pump into the muscles of your legs when you squat down to jump. But try and feel the energy accumulate in your muscles, that energy is your Lifeblood. It feels like a warm pulsating tension when it flows through your veins. When you’re ready, push upward while releasing the tension in your muscles.”

“That’s it?” Caerus said dumbfounded.

“That’s it.”

Caerus watched as Lucian spun and slightly crouched downward making an exaggeration of his movements so Caerus could copy them. He watched as Lucian’s trousers tightened slightly and then released as he flew upward.

Caerus did his best to copy how Lucian made his leap upward. He crouched down slowly and closed his eyes to focus on how his blood flowed. He felt the warm Lifeblood rush toward his legs while simultaneously feeling dizzy from the effort. He could hear Lucian’s muffled voice trying to speak to him, but Caerus ignored him. As instructed, he pushed upward while releasing the tension in his muscles and as he opened his eyes, he glimpsed the ledge of a fast-approaching roof before blacking out.

The roof that Lucian had been standing on shook as he stared down at Caerus’ limp body falling to the ground. Even his stoic face could not control his laughter.

“I kept telling you to open your eyes, but you dared to ignore me,” Lucian said between his chuckles.

He once again jumped down and stood in front of Caerus. The young man groaned as his eyes fluttered open but closed and remained closed. Lucian growled. This young man had been nothing but a hindrance to his plans so far. As he contemplated whether to leave Caerus behind or not, voices and rushing footsteps began to echo from the street corner.

“This is such a pain in the…”

Lucian grabbed Caerus by the arm and yanked him up while positioning his limp body on his shoulders. Crouching low, Lucian then pushed upward pushing against the wind with Caerus causing his jump to be slightly angled. This however worked in his favor as he aimed his trajectory toward a rooftop. The voices below them were none the wiser.

“Time to head toward the ruined building. The others should be waiting.”

Lucian proceeded to jump from rooftop to rooftop. As he did so he could hear Caerus groan as his body jostled up and down. Lucian focused his Lifeblood to his eyes, and it began to burn with the crimson light. His magnified vision allowed him to spot many citizens who had fled toward the cathedral grounds. He kept viewing his surroundings making sure that no one could spot him as he traversed the city. As he neared the collapsed portion of the ruined city, he could no longer afford to jump across rooftops for fear of it crumbling beneath his feet.

He stopped at the edge of a singed roof before stepping off and landing upon the cobblestone street. Lucian took several steps through the rubble before he stopped and looked beyond. The mortar and stone of countless buildings scattered across the landscape before him. Littered all around him were the ashes and burnt wood of collapsed buildings and homes.

Lucian sighed as his head began to ache, the visions had not stopped even after Erasmus promised him it would end upon meeting Caerus – who was supposed to be the answer to his missing memories. Lucian ignored the throbbing pain at the very center of his head. The pain emanated outward as if to blow his brain apart.

Walking for a couple of minutes longer, Lucian finally arrived at a burnt home with withered sunflowers between the steps of the front door. The home looked vaguely familiar to him, and his headache grew ever stronger, but he pushed past the pain and observed the home in detail. The home’s front door was barricaded with sturdy planks which curiously seemed to have been placed there for years without ever being touched. Before proceeding any further Lucian took a glance behind him as well as upon the rooftops just in case someone had followed him. After making sure that the coast was clear, Lucian moved to the steps of the sealed home just as Caerus began to shift and groan on his shoulders.

“Ah, the useful one awakens,” Lucian said, growing ever more frustrated with the young man.

With a deft motion, Lucian adjusted his stance, carefully lowering the young man onto the sunflower-adorned steps. His gaze then shifted to a partially burnt building a short distance away, its smoky remnants still lingering. As he advanced, his steps carrying him closer, he approached another structure, its roof caving beneath the weight of a massive boulder. Meanwhile, right before him, a scorched door dangled precariously from its hinges, devoid of an exterior handle.

He knocked at the charred door, and he waited before knocking twice more. Lucian could hear the doorknob on the other side start jiggling. As the door slowly creaked open, Lucian saw the face of the man before him. Bright yellow eyes gleamed beneath the cowl that obscured his face, the figure gave out a low guttural growl before creeping back within the derelict domicile.

Lucian stepped into the darkness just as Caerus awoke with blurry eyes.

In an unnumbered amount of time, Caerus began to stir awake. His vision was still blurred, and his environment shifted for a long time before he could focus enough to identify his surroundings. The house in front of him felt familiar, the old pots in front of the windowsill were cracked and made of old dusty clay. The door looked familiar as well, old oak with iron hinges. Caerus leaned to his side, his head bursting into emanating pain that seemed to ebb and flow across his scalp. Caerus moved his hand to the top of his head and felt a huge welt forming where he had struck his head.

As he limped to the side, he felt the stem of the sunflower on his shoulder and the lip of the clay pot holding it on his forearm. It was then that the memory invaded his mind, this was his old home, the home he and his mother shared when she was still alive. Surprise etched on his face. Caerus stood up slowly, his feet still unsteady beneath his feet.

He turned around slowly and looked at the boarded-up doorframe. The old dust that used to layer itself upon the wooden boards is now layered with additional ash and soot. Caerus felt his eyes tear up. He’d avoided this home for years and did his best to forget the events that transpired on his mother’s death.

“Why am I here?” Caerus spoke.

The silence that followed his words echoed around him. He stood there for a moment before realizing that Lucian had disappeared. He whipped his head behind him and looked around his surroundings, only for the pulsating pain in his head to strengthen.

“Ow! Bloody hell…” Caerus snarled. He stumbled backward from the pain and banged his back on the boarded-up door. Caerus looked behind him and stared at the ominous door, nearly stumbling backward as his foot slipped off one of the steps.

“Home…” Caerus thought aloud and quickly tried to shake the thought away. “Nowhere is home if no one is there to welcome you.”

A pained expression crossed Caerus’s face, his hand gingerly touching the swollen bump on his head, while his other hand rested against the barricaded entrance. He anchored himself, inhaling ragged breaths in a valiant effort to endure the throbbing ache that reverberated through his skull. Gradually, the pain began to ebb, allowing Caerus to press his second hand onto the wooden planks. His gaze sharpened as he directed a stern glare at the nails securely embedded in the door’s frame.

“Lucian said that I need to focus my… What did he call it? Lifeblood – to my legs to make them stronger… I wonder…” Caerus whispered. His concentration sharpened as he summoned memories of his blood coursing through his veins, and the vibrant current of energy that flowed within him. With a determined intent, he channeled that energy – his Lifeblood – into his arms. The warmth surged, tracing a path from his biceps to his hands, and as he gripped the barrier sealing his past, the wood quivered and fissured beneath his touch. A satisfying splintering echoed through the air as he exerted his strength, muscles straining, and finally, he pulled.

As soon as he had pulled the wooden barricade from the doorframe, Caerus could feel the pull of his arms and found himself out of balance. The broad side of the wood board slammed itself onto Caerus’ chest and he felt a breath of air leave his lungs. As his body flew backward Caerus took a step back and his foot luckily landed at the lip of the first stair. He regained a precarious balance. Heaving, Caerus let the wooden board slip to his side, astonished by the fact that he had just ripped a well-nailed board from the doorframe.

“Huh…” Caerus said, “I didn’t think that would work…”

With cautious determination, Caerus approached the door once again, his fingers wrapping around another plank. Ensuring his grip was firm and his stance unwavering, he pulled. And repeated. And repeated, until every wooden plank relinquished its place from the doorframe.

Amazement filled Caerus’s gaze as he surveyed his handiwork. What a normal person armed with just a crowbar might labor over for an entire day, he had accomplished in mere moments. His palms bore no splinters, no marks of effort, but the veins on his forearms had swelled prominently, receding as the energy within him waned.

Cautiously scanning his surroundings, he ensured no prying eyes had witnessed his feat. Caerus then grasped the aged, weathered doorknob, a key to unlocking a flood of memories. A vision emerged of his mother just beyond that door, her smile a cherished greeting. Blinking back the sting of tears, he pushed the sentiment away, focusing instead on the task at hand.

His hand twisted the doorknob, pushing the door inward. Yet, his progress was abruptly halted, the door inching open before wedging itself stubbornly. His gaze dropped to the narrow gap, a layer of dust clinging to the floor and the door, causing the obstruction.

“I can’t budge it without busting the whole thing down,” Caerus mused. “Maybe I should just kick it in.” Contemplating this option, he poised his leg for a forceful impact against the door, only to pause in mid-motion. “Then again, I could use this moment to work on my Lifeblood skills. Show Lucian that I’ve got more in me than what I displayed earlier.”

Shutting his eyes once more, Caerus delved inward, seeking that familiar surge of energy within. With a steady grip on this newfound power, he directed it towards both his legs, feeling the thrum of blood as it rushed into his calves, fueling his thighs with renewed strength. Opening his eyes, he marveled at the transformation he’d wrought, making a mental note to examine his legs. His veins stood out in bold relief, pulsing with vitality, and an ethereal luminosity danced beneath the surface, casting a captivating, iridescent glow.

Caerus found himself entranced by the mysterious radiance, a dazzling spectacle that seemed to hint at untold potential.

Caerus dug his right leg firmly into the ground. As he placed weight on this leg, he felt the ground crack and splinter. Caerus pulled his left leg upwards stretching as far upward as possible, Caerus made sure to fix the flat of his foot parallel to the door. He felt every muscle in his legs contract as he steadied himself. Then he kicked.

With a surge of energy, Caerus unleashed his power. His left leg propelled forward, slicing through the air with a resounding whistle before the thunderous boom of impact against the wood. The door quivered under the onslaught, its timeworn structure no match for his might. The unmistakable sound of snapping metal reverberated as hinges gave way, relinquishing their grip. The door held its ground momentarily, fleeting defiance before gravity claimed victory.

In a slow-motion descent, the door surrendered to its weight, crashing with a symphony of destruction. The once-stalwart barrier succumbed to the relentless force, shattering into a chorus of splinters that filled the air. As the wreckage settled, an eruption of dust swirled, a ghostly dance that veiled the interior of the dilapidated Kietz residence. The very foundations of the dwelling quaked, echoing with the triumphant aftermath of Caerus’s mighty kick.

Caerus felt his jaw drop as he stared into his old home. His strength did not match his expectations. There was a dissonance between his reality and his beliefs.

He looked at the dust-covered floor and musty walls. He took in the sight. The corners of the walls and ceilings were covered in cobwebs whilst small patches of mold had tucked themselves into the bottom corners of the hallway. Caerus was taken aback at the sight of his old home being so unattended that he gasped at the sight.

“What…?” The words finally escaped his lips. Caerus took a step into the home feeling the old floorboards creak at his weight. They felt as if they were about to give way.

“Caerus, you’re home.” Whispered a voice in the distance.

A lady in her mid-thirties stepped into the doorframe of the kitchen. Her face was gentle and her smile warm and kind. Caerus looked around him and felt the room shimmer for a moment before realizing that the walls were bright with colors. He could smell his mother’s home-cooked meal. And the warm feeling of being in a home that welcomed him.

Then he was back in the derelict home, the walls dank and the floorboards dusty. He shook his head and felt the memories leave him. Caerus’s knees felt as if they were about to buckle, and he leaned into the wall to his left for support. But in that instant, he felt the wall give and his arm shot through to the other side.

“Damn it!” Caerus screamed.

“What’s happened here?!” Someone’s frustrated voice came from behind Caerus. Caerus turned to look behind him and saw Lucian’s fierce eyes glaring at him. “All this time we’d traveled in silence and now you’ve wasted that effort on all this noise!”

“This is my old home! You brought me here?! Why?!” Caerus felt some tears well up. “This isn’t my home anymore! My mother’s gone! This home is derelict and uncared for. The windows were broken and boarded up. This was a warm place and now it’s cold! Did you do this on purpose?!” Caerus spoke.

Caerus attempted to withdraw his arm from the gap in the wall, a swift motion but it kept him from freeing himself of the confining embrace. His free arm stretched out, fingers reaching for Lucian in an urgent attempt to grasp him. However, the remnants of his other arm that still clung to the wall hindered his reach, preventing him from making contact with the man.

Lucian looked at Caerus with an expressionless face and then looked down.

“I didn’t know…” Lucian finally spoke after a moment of silence. “I apologize, sincerely. Had I known that this would cause you such distress then I wouldn’t have brought you here. It is not my intention to cause you any pain. I know how it feels to lose the people you love. I know. Trust me… I know…” Lucian said in a gentle voice. “That’s why we must do everything we can to prevent this for anyone else. No matter the means, it’ll justify the ends.”

A heavy hush draped over the scene, and Caerus withdrew his arm entirely from the wall. The silence held Lucian in its grasp, both men locked in a wordless exchange, gauging each other’s next move. Avoiding direct eye contact, Caerus shifted his gaze downward, his focus fixed on the floor. His line of sight then drifted to the gaping hole he had punched through the wall.

However, as his gaze settled on the breach, something caught his attention – a glint of steel that winked from the mantlepiece in the living room. Recognition sparked within him, his eyes widening with realization. Amongst the chaos of the city’s besieged state, where looters prowled with abandon, this one prized possession remained untouched, a gleaming testament to its value.

“The curse,” Caerus whispered. Lucian looked at him curiously, Caerus turned to face Lucian and gave a curt nod before moving into the living room. The older gentleman followed close behind him. As Lucian turned the corner, he found that Caerus already had something in his hands, but he had his back turned toward Lucian.

“You said ‘We must do everything we can to prevent this for anyone else. No matter the means, it’ll justify the ends.’” Caerus said. “Does this fit the bill?”

Caerus turned to Lucian slowly showing what was in his hands. A long bulky scabbard about two feet long and a shorter scabbard laid horizontal with the belt. The shorter blade’s hilt was intricately designed with blood-red cloth and a pommel made of steel and gold inlay. The blade had an intricately designed snake coiling itself around the crossguards. While the other blade was mainly made of a wooden grip and steel pommel.

“Who owns this?” Lucian spoke gently reaching for the weapon with both hands. Caerus gladly laid the scabbard on his open palms.

“My father did, people believed it to be cursed. Each time someone tried to take the blades they’d die a few minutes after. The weirdest thing about it is that the people die due to blood loss, but they never have any open wounds or vomit any blood. They just drop dead, as pale as ghosts. They couldn’t remove them either without ripping the palms open. I guess the looters of the city avoided taking these blades because of the curse.”

“They died because they weren’t us.” Lucian gave a morbid smile and a faint chuckle. “The handles are made of Bloodweave, it’s a type of fabric only the wealthy could afford in the Laresian continents.”

“So, it isn’t cursed?” Caerus said.

“No. It is not. Bloodweave has a unique property. It’ll draw blood from anyone who isn’t of the Laresian bloodline. It can be molded much like mirewood, but it takes on flesh from its user. Simply put, the bloodweave on the handle is there to guarantee that the blades do not become disarmed during battle. It melts into the Laresian who grips them. To those who aren’t from our lineage, they call this type of fabric the ‘hungry cloth’.”

“Does that mean that I can wield them?” Caerus said. “They won’t kill me like the others?”

“Why don’t you try them for yourself?” Lucian tossed the blades to Caerus who warily grabbed them by the leather belt. Caerus stared at the blades for a moment, inspecting the scabbard as if it were to sprout jaws and clamp onto his hands. He tentatively grabbed at the handle of the longest blade, he felt the sleek wooden handle and appreciated the comfortable fit.

“Try the other one.” Lucian mused.

As Caerus grabbed the second blade’s handle, the fabric seemed to cling to his hands as if melding itself to his flesh. Then Caerus pulled the rusted blade, he found two strange grooves that ran along the center of the blade. Lucian looked at the young man before cutting his index and middle finger on the rusted edge. Caerus looked at him struck by disbelief.

“Why’d you do that?” Caerus spoke.

“Watch.” Lucian then moved both bloody fingers down the grooves to the tips of the blades. Caerus observed the blood smears glow a soft crimson light before dissipating.

“What happened?”

“Watch” Lucian spoke, ever calm. Nothing of note happened for a while. And then something did. The rust on the edges of the blades began to fade and the dulled metal began to gleam. Caerus watched all this – mouth agape – staring at what seemed to be magic in front of him. Lucian laughed at the expression the young man made.

“Blood is made of minuscule amounts of Iron,” Lucian said. “Using Lifeblood, we can manipulate the iron in our blood to take the place of rusted pits and stains of metal work. Hence Laresians have a penchant for metalworking and blade smithing. What you saw now was one of our bloodline’s skills. You can test the blade, it’s as sharp as a razor.”

Caerus stared at Lucian before doing as he asked. He pressed both fingers on the blade’s edge putting a bit of force. And he felt the blade slide effortlessly through his skin. Caerus pulled back seeing the blood trickle down his fingertips.

“Try it for yourself, the same way I did, just make sure to let the Lifeblood seep through the wound with the blood.”

Caerus closed his eyes for a moment and felt the Lifeblood rise out of the center of his torso to his fingertips. He winced as he sliced his finger on the blade, as he opened his eyes and looked at the trickling blood, it shone just as Lucian’s did.

“Now drag those bloodied fingers down the same grooves of your dagger. From cross guard to tip. And watch the magic happen.” Lucian said.

Caerus did as he was told and smeared the blood on the blade. The blade shone with a bright light before dissipating. Lucian gave him a proud nod before turning around and walking out of the living room.

“Where are you going?” Caerus asked.

“There is no point in us staying here for longer is there?” Lucian said. “There’s something I must show you. But remember; No matter the means, it’ll justify the ends. Strap those blades to your waist and let’s be off.”

Caerus sheathed his dagger onto the scabbard and strapped the blades onto his waist. He followed Lucian as he stepped onto the street. He nearly dropped to the cobblestone when he peered above Lucian’s shoulder.

Before him stood horrors he never would have dreamt of.