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“I- I’m sorry,” she whispered.
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“Do not say you are sorry,” Arantay said sharply, “everyone says they are sorry, they cannot be as sorry as I am.”
Brooke was lost for words.
“Do you understand? You’ve seen this forest and the magical creatures that inhabit it. The gnomes, the nymphs, the fairies. I used to be one of them. I used to live harmoniously with them. But now… my blood is tainted, inflicted with evil. Now, I’m a curse upon the home I cherished as a boy. My brother is right, I am a traitor. I don't belong here. Elven blood is the most pure of all the races, and vampiric the most evil. They have mixed inside my body, and now I don't know what I am. I am nothing.”
Tears rolled down Brooke’s cheeks as she stared at him. Arantay, who resembled a boy no more than seventeen years old, appeared so wounded right now. So vulnerable, despite the sheer power she knew he possessed.
She moved towards him unfaltering, laying a hand on his chest. “You're not evil,”
she said softly. “You’re strong and kind… and beautiful.”
And she truly meant it. Even the midnight veins that streaked his body were beautiful in their own way.
Arantay stepped away from her, moving to sit on the trunk of a fallen tree, his head resting in his hands.
Brooke sat beside him, yearning to comfort Arantay, to make him feel anything but this.
“Why don’t you use an enchanted ring like other Venators who’re supernatural?”
“The majority of magical items can only be used by magic-users. I’m a Venator in title only, I have no sorcery. I’m just an elf, at least I used to be. Vanderain calls me an Elfpire,” he chuckled bitterly. “I think he made the name up. Vanderain says he’s
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heard of others like me, but I’m the only one he’s met. And coming from Vanderain that means my kind must be rare. He’s probably met every creature imaginable.”
Arantay turned to look at her, his eyes wet. “Do you know what it’s like Brooke, to feel completely and utterly alone?”
Brooke shook her head, wishing she knew the right thing to say.
“I know everyone feels that way sometimes, but with me, I actually am alone,” he mused.
“Don’t you have family? Other than Falawn I mean,” she added hastily.
“There’s a tribe of elves in the forest,” Arantay nodded, “but even they treat me differently. My parents try to hide it, but I see it in their eyes. My brother loathes me.
Falawn knows I am something wrong, that I lead an existence which shouldn’t be led.”
“That’s not true,” she burst in angrily.
Silence followed her statement until Arantay spoke up again, exhausted, as if tired of his own being.
“You know I was the youngest in my family, in my whole tribe. Now I will live beyond all of them.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, not sure if she wanted the answer.
“The life of a vampire is an immortal one. The life of an elf typically spans a thousand years. I’m unsure of whether I will live forever. I haven’t aged a day since the moment I was turned, so I presume I will. All my tribe, my mother, my father, shall die before me.”
“That’s horrible,” she choked.
The suns had finally lowered now, replaced by moonlight. The black veins faded on Arantay’s skin, becoming an unblemished white once again.
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“But, you aren’t evil?” she repeated. “You don’t feed on humans.” Brooke remembered the time he'd cleaned her blood off her. “Do you?”
“Never,” he said vehemently. “For years the pull was there, the need to drink human blood. But as I continued to fight it the lust eventually lessened. My hunger, however, had to be satisfied.” His voice was so wretched it hurt her to hear it.
“Animals?”
“Yes.”
“But that’s not so bad is it, I mean-”
“Yes it is! Elves are linked to the forest we live in. We have a kinship with every animal, every insect. All the magical creatures you saw earlier, we all share the same bond. And I was forced to break that bond, to feed on the animals that were a part of my home--a part of me.”
Brooke was appalled to see a tear finally break through, rolling down his cheek to the forest floor. She couldn’t imagine the pain it must cause him to feed on his own.
“That’s why Falawn called me a murderer. I killed accidentally when I was new.
I’ve now mastered my impulses, but he still hates me.”
Silence once again permeated the area.
“How did it happen?” she dared to ask. “Were you bitten?”
For a long moment she thought Arantay was not going to answer her, but then he spoke.
“I was little more than a child, a boy of just a hundred years. It was only my fifth mission as a Venator. The other elves didn’t want a part of what Vanderain had created, but I did. I wanted to help people, save them from demons and other perils.
But most of all I wanted adventure. I guess getting bitten was fate’s way of telling me I should have stayed in the forest with my own kind. The mission was simple enough;
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eliminate a group of demons that’d settled into a country manor on your Earth realm.
They had slaughtered the owners and were continuing to kill any human that came near. Unfortunately they were in an alliance with a coven of vampires too. The vampires attacked us as we sought to clear out the demons and I was bitten. When I awoke I had changed. My skin had whitened, my eyes turned red, my teeth into fangs, my nails long and black. The rest you know.” He finished, likely not wishing to remember all he'd felt when he first realised what he’d become.
“What did you do?”
“I killed them,” his voice took on a dangerous tone. Brooke was taken aback by the wild gleam in his eyes.
“I tracked them down, one by one, not just destroying the one who'd infected me, but the entire coven. I was ruthless, out of control. That was when I came closest to feeding on a human. It was Vanderain who helped me. He found me after I killed the coven. He calmed me down and helped me deal with everything going on inside my head. Without Vanderain I might still be out there, roaming the demon realms, roaming the human realms, slaughtering everything in sight.”
Brooke didn’t doubt it, she'd seen how powerful Arantay could be. The thought was too terrible to imagine him out of control.
Darkness deepened further, as did Arantay’s mood. Brooke shivered as the wind picked up. Small, eerie sounds whispered between the trees. The night beasts were stirring from their heavy slumbers. Brooke would rather take them over Falawn returning though.
“Sorry for telling you all this,” Arantay muttered. “It shouldn't be your burden too.
It’s enough that all the Masters and Arch-Realmers know. I’m not usually this
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sensitive about-- my condition, but Falawn always knows how to rile me. I didn't want you to see me like this.”
“Why?”
“I enjoy training with you, and I thought…if you saw my true form you would be frightened and not wish to see me again.”
Brooke felt such a strong emotion at his words that she leapt forwards before she could stop herself, wrapping her arms around him and holding tight. Arantay started, obviously confused, but then relaxed, laying an arm around her waist gently.
“I could never be scared of you,” she whispered.
“Thank you,” he whispered back, holding her as tight as she held him. She never wanted to let go.
Chapter 18- Kiss and a Catfight
Many of Veneseron’s statues talked during the day, but at night some would walk around too. Evan saw many of them as he, Jed and Emillia were on cleaning duty tonight. Golems, gargoyles, mannequins and a bevy of historical statues gathered in the courtyard outside the window.
“I hate cleaning,” Jed remarked, polishing statues from the Babylonian period.
Luckily none of these statues were alive, although Evan thought he heard one giggle, as if ticklish.
Although steam powered robots worked as chefs and hi-tech cleaning droids clunked up and down the stairs, the Novices still had to help out too.
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Evan was in the process of wiping clean a mirror. Many of the mirrors around the Fortress were enchanted to reflect other realms. Evan had looked in one mirror to find his reflection standing on a green sand dune amidst an orange sea. Another mirror had showed him on a mountaintop with what looked like velociraptors running around below. The mirror Evan was cleaning now showed his reflection in UV light.
He knew he’d changed on the inside since arriving to Veneseron, but gazing at his reflection, his appearance had altered too. His skin was darker, thanks to the twin suns. And his body was more muscled, due to all the training. Evan thought his eyes looked darker too, that or the odd red specks around his pupils were brighter.
He moved on to polish an Anglo-Saxon helmet, but a high-pitched singing interrupted him.
The three of them turned as a bizarre being danced into view. Half of his skin-tight outfit was black, speckled with yellow dots; the other was red, speckled with blue dots. He wore a jester hat, which jingled with every step, and a golden flute was clutched in a gloved hand. His face was covered by a metallic white mask, painted into a beaming smile.
“Good morrow, hunters. Hark now, I am being Halfrigg Moonladder, Jester and Bard of Veneseron stronghold. Would thou like a song?”
“Erm, not right now thanks,” Emillia said kindly.
Halfrigg Moonladder's face shifted, the smiling mask rotated round his head, replaced by another mask, this one wearing a sad expression.
“Very well, I shall find dear Graham, he always likes my songs. Fare thee well.”
And with that his face rotated again and he skipped down the hallway and out of sight.
“Graham?” Jed asked.
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“He's a genie,” Evan put in helpfully, laughing at Jed's expression.
“Don't mind Halfrigg,” Emillia said. “He's a little insane. He means well though.
He’s just one of many peculiar residents of the Fortress. I’ll tell you about Ectoplasm Eddy and Hamley-Hans another time.”
“How many weirdoes does this Fortress have?” Jed asked.
“What, including you?” Emillia shot back.
“Ooh, that was a quick comeback for you, Emi. Maybe you're not as stupid as we all thought.”
“Say that again Jeddy Bear and I'll-”
Just then Evan spotted Brooke. Her eyes were puffy and
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