Chapter Text
August, 1496
Adrielle
We call them firedrakes. But there are so many different kinds, the name is actually pretty unhelpful. When we get the alert that one has come too near the city and needs to be relocated, we almost never know what exactly we’re walking into.
This one is a bat-like creature, nearly the size of a horse, with leathery wings and rage-red eyes. It would be cute, if it didn’t want to set us on fire.
“You sure you don’t want me to kill this thing?” Christopher calls to me.
I picture him putting a hand to the consecrated whip on his belt. I don’t even consider going for the old dagger on mine.
I don’t take my eyes from the drake.
“No,” I say, without making a sound, “now hush, you’ll only frighten it.”
“It already seems pretty wound up.”
“Maybe it doesn’t like you.”
Christopher huffs, “I’m sure it’ll like you well enough.”
That is the idea.
I open my mind to the creature. When I connect, it whacks its long tail against the ground with a crack—a warning for me to back off. I don’t, but nor do I push further. I wait patiently for the drake to realize I’m not a threat, and that the unfamiliar sensation in its head will not cause it harm.
Slowly, its wings relax their rigid, protective posture, and its huge ears perk up. It tilts its head like a curious dog. I wonder how upset tati would be if I brought this thing back to the castle. I had a hard enough task getting him to agree to let me keep the abandoned barn kittens.
“There, you see? No one here is going to hurt you.”
The firedrake snorts, smoke puffing up around its face. I know it can understand me, though it doesn’t have any human language. Some night creatures do, but this guy isn’t a night creature anymore. It’s a distant descendant, born and reared in the mountains we both call home.
I step forward a little at a time until I’m able to press my palm against its forehead.
“Do you feel it?” Christopher interrupts.
Christopher Belmont is one of my favorite people in the world, he’s practically my brother. He’s also the one I most often want to bite. Really hard.
“Ssh.”
In another moment, I have it— something malevolent shifting around inside the drake that is at odds with its nature. It’s instinctive for me to reach inside it with my own power and gently lift the ugly presence out. I don’t know how I learned to do this, but when I was about ten years old I gained a simple healing ability which I can use on other living things besides myself.
One of the things I can mend are soul wounds dealt by dark magic. Sypha says it probably has something to do with my unusual nature, being neither human nor vampire. As neither of their kinds could perform this sort of magic so easily.
It’s a trick that’s been put through its paces in recent weeks. Something unfriendly has surfaced in Wallachia, something none of us here like the feeling of. And it’s been waking some long-dormant darkness in the magical creatures.
As soon as the unwelcome magic is lifted from the drake, it expels a spout of flame like a sigh of relief— directly into my face—and rears back to stretch out its wings. I dissolve the energy swirling in my hand and let out my own sigh. The drake butts its head against my chest, its purring sounds more like bones rattling.
Christopher whistles. “I don’t even know why you need me here.”
“I don’t,” I say, scratching the drake’s enormous ears, “but I’m not allowed to respond to creature alerts alone after the incident with the manticore cub.”
He groans, clearly bored. “Great. Let’s go home, then.”
“You go, I want to check on the gergoths.”
“So, you can’t deal with a firedrake alone, but you’re allowed to pop in to visit with those things?”
“Oh, they would never hurt me. I’ve known most of the heard since they were babies.”
Christopher just stares at me for a long moment, my friendship with the magical animals has always confused him. To a Belmont, even one who grew up around them, magical creatures are always a threat. Even when they’re purring.
“If any of them are effected by… whatever this is, we’re going to have a big problem on our hands.”
He shrugs and turns for town. “Alright, see you at home. Be careful, kid.”
I’m older than him. By almost a year.
“Do you think you could give me a ride to the place where the gergoths graze?” I show the drake a mental image of the gergoths and their usual territory.
It chirps and lowers its shoulder so I can climb on. Then, a small whine to say it’s sorry for blasting me in the face.
“That’s alright, I can’t catch fire.”
I swing myself up onto the beast’s back, grabbing its fluffy mane just as it lifts off the ground. The flapping of membrane wings must have got Christopher’s attention, he calls to me over the rushing of the wind as the drake takes full flight. He’s laughing.
“I’m going to tell your father you’ve been riding night creatures!”
The drake dives, then pulls up to gain a bit of height. I squeal, excitement rushing through me. I love being up high! Anywhere I can watch the world from above, and take in the brilliant jewel tones of Wallachia in high summer. The fields of gold and emerald, and mountains of lilac and cerulean. All cut through with streaks of crystal rivers and wide roads for travelers.
And there are quite a few travelers this time of year. The city of Belmont is a cultural and academic seat of influence, not just in Eastern Europe, but the whole world. Humans and vampires alike come from all over, and many never leave. Why would they? I can’t imagine anywhere more perfect to live a long, long time.
From the sky, I can see the whole city. The wide square, where market is held and the craftspeople work, the farms beneath me, the residential places, and the university district to the far west. And at the furthest point is my castle home. Rising out of the earth like a huge spire.
My firedrake friend dips to turn us away from town and out towards the mountains. I lower myself to its back, tucking my arms in so the air can’t push as hard against me. I shut my eyes and feel the wind in my hair. All too soon, we’re descending.
I’m deposited on a bluff over-looking the vast grassland that leads into the east foothills. The firedrake gives a hard shake to puff up his flattened fur and nudges his head into my side.
“I wonder if Christopher is going to tell his captain that he killed you. I hope we didn’t get him in too much trouble.”
Christopher joined the city guard about five years ago, when he was only fourteen. Since then, he’s done well for himself. Uncle Trevor says Chris will probably make captain himself in the next couple of years. Maybe sooner, if this resurgence of dark forces turns out to be a real threat.
The guard are the ones who usually deal with unfriendly magical creatures when they wander too close to home. To them, these ‘night creatures’ are tools or foes, never friends. Tati says I shouldn’t hold it against them. Most of the guard and other senior members of our community lived through something terrible twenty years ago, and they still carry the scars.
“You wouldn’t want to be friends with magical creatures either, if their ancestors had eaten your children,” he always says.
He’s probably right. Tati is always right. But I still don’t like it.
The firedrake’s big ears and bat wings remind me of the little imps from one of my old storybooks. He even has the same heart-shaped nose.
“I think I’ll call you Imp. I have a feeling I’ll be seeing you around in future.”
After another scratch behind the ears, my new friend flies away. It only then occurs to me that I’m going to have a very long walk home. But that’s alright, it’s barely noon and the day is beautiful. I flop down into the long grass, carding my fingers through the soft blades. The sky over me is pure blue, and the air out here is sweet with summer.
A platoon of fat beetles steadfastly continues its march right over my boot, undeterred by the sudden obstacle in their path. Butterflies flit around a patch of tiny flowers, and I can hear a snake moving in the grass nearby.
Just as I’m starting to float away, there are heavy vibrations through the earth beneath me. I probably wouldn’t have noticed it if I wasn’t already paying attention to all these little things.
I sit up, looking around for the source. The pattern tells me its footfalls, two sets, but they are much too fast to be gergoths. Far away from where I’m sitting is a broad access road that leads from the work yards at the edge of town to many places beyond the bounds of the city. Like a residential settlement where some little villages used to be. On that road, I make out two galloping horses, their riders appear to be racing.
It isn’t difficult to tell who the riders are. A woman in a colorful tunic with dark hair and skin. And a man, just a pale blur at this distance to anyone with eyes less sensitive than mine. Greta and tati are home early!
I nearly shoot to my feet and go after them. I could probably beat the horses in a race home. But, no. I have a job to do. Christopher is a guardsman. Greta and my father are diplomats and leaders. My other aunties, Violet and Sypha, are a school teacher and a hunter respectively. And I check in on our magical neighbors. We all have our roles.
As if on cue, hulking, grey forms begin to crest the far hill. They’re talking to each other in low, rumbling calls I can feel in my bones. I whistle to Granny, the oldest gergoth in this herd, and the matriarch.
I think that’s the right word, matriarch.
I wait for her to call back to say she knows I’m here. The last thing I want to do is startle an animal bigger than a house.
Gergoth herds are generally small. They eat so much that if there are more than half a dozen to any place, they would strip it bare in a week. Our herd is only five. Granny, her two daughters, the older daughter’s mate, and a calf born this spring.
Granny lowers her massive head to me. The end of her muzzle has to press into the ground just to look me in the eyes. They know this routine by now. I quickly check each of them for any trace of magic that isn’t supposed to be there, but everyone seems fine. All is well out here. Good, at least we won’t have gergoths rampaging through the town square.
Gergoths are particularly intelligent among magical animals. Tati says they appear to share culture in their family groups, and they have very good memories. I’ve been working on creating new bestiaries based on our new understanding of night creature descendants, so it’s important for me to know everything I can about them.
I was planning to stay out here all day with the animals, but now I just want to go home and see tati. He’s been gone since early yesterday, and I miss him. Greta as well. Before I go, I give Granny gergoth my memory of what this new dark magic feels like. And I tell her that if they feel anything unfriendly or scary on the land they should move in the opposite direction.
Then I flash for home, crossing the open fields in only a few seconds. The forests around the city are lush, left to grow undisturbed so their sheer density will act as a natural barrier against any threat. Which means there’s plenty to climb on. I don’t touch the ground from the moment I cross the tree line. Leaping from branch to branch, practically flying over the wide spot in the river, and only planting my feet again when the woods let out at the main road into town.
From here, it’s a long walk through the city to the castle grounds. I suppose I could just climb over the rooves, but I got told off last time I did that.
xxx
Sypha
Trevor,
I don’t know if the transmission magic will work on this letter, the energy here is so foul that our simple spells aren’t working. My team and I had planned to make for home starting today, but we picked up the trail again before we had even left Wygol village. Some local parents came to us in a panic, saying they could not locate their children. If this newest lead is indeed the same cohort we’ve been tracking these last few weeks, we may already be too late to save them.
You may not be able to transmit letters to me this deep into the effected area. Dark magic hangs over this entire region, and it grows thicker every day. We are far enough from Belmont that I’m not worried about it reaching you anytime soon. But still, it is all very concerning.
Yet, I’m still not convinced we’re tracking vampires. Even though the children from the other village had injuries to their remains consistent with vampire feeding, something about it just feels wrong.
I hope this will reach you. Only so that you will know I’m alright.
I miss you. Kiss our boys for me.
Sypha
xxx
Trevor
I’m leading the afternoon’s trainees into the practice yard when a letter appears in front of me, blueish magic puffing into my face. I direct everyone to find a sparring partner and begin drills.
I unfurl the slip of vellum, it’s a letter from Sypha. Should’ve been obvious that it was sent by my magician partner, but every second person in this city knows how to perform these basic spells.
“Is that from mum?”
Christopher kicks open the training yard gate, hands shoved deep in his pockets.
“Where’ve you been?”
“Got word about a firedrake out by the farms. What did she say?”
“Children have gone missing in Wygol. They think it’s the same vampires.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah, shit.”
“What the hell is going on out there? Everything was fine, then there’s dark magic abroad in Wallachia basically overnight. How does that even happen? What is it?”
I put a hand on my son’s shoulder. Christopher’s anxiety is palpable. He’s a good hunter, and a devoted guardsman, it’s easy to forget he’s never been through a real crisis before. Not like his mother and I.
“Whatever it is, no way it’ll get anywhere near this place. We’re well defended, at least half of us are trained fighters. Nothing and no one would be stupid enough to try it.”
He looks out at the students dotted around the training field. He knows most of them from school.
“I hope you’re right.”