He shifted back into his human-like form, holding his arms up in surrender. “Hold your fire, I am no beast.”
“That is for us to decide,” a voice responded pleasantly, its syllables clinking together like melodious bells.
Behind each strategically pointed weapon stood a faceless knight clad in metal armor, situated between six men seated on thrones carved out of tree stumps. Each of them wore a different animal mask, their bodies entirely concealed by somber robes topped with corresponding furs or feathers. The neutered beast at their feet let out a whimper at the barbs holding him in place. Apparently, the enchanted metal Lucius had once warned him about affected all the unnatural creatures on earth.
“Do not worry about your friend,” the man assured him from behind the mask of an eagle. “He knows this is the only way to restrain him.”
The curious sensation of repetition prickled David’s skin as it occurred to him that five of the men seated around him were wearing masks in the likenesses of those he once met in a dream, many years ago: the angel, the lion, the eagle, and the bull. Flanking them was a figure wearing the mask of Anubis, the Egyptian god of the Underworld, and one dressed like a Sphinx, cloven hooves popping out from underneath the hem of his robes. “Libraean,” he whispered in astonished recognition.
“We will lower our weapons once we have your word that you will not harm the humans among us,” a low rumble came from the direction of the lion-masked man.
“You have my word,” David replied easily. “Your creature fed me on our journey here.”
“He is not ours,” the bull informed him, the hollow eyes of his mask offering an unsettling visual as he spoke. “He is borrowed, like you. A gift from the Norse goddess Frigg, who sent her beloved child to further our cause. Yet one of her own brethren cursed him, the chaos god they call Loki. Danulf is now part man, part wolf, powerless to the metamorphosis as the goddess moon rises replete in her dark skies.”
“You are getting ahead of yourself, Taurus,” a familiar voice interjected. Even from behind the mask of the Sphinx, Libraean’s one blue eye appraised him as he spoke. “David has fulfilled his destiny. His empathy has been restored. He will not harm a human among us.”
“Very well,” the eagle nodded, lifting a considerable wing. The encircling knights lowered their weapons at his command.
David felt a tug at his chest as the being’s umber feathers caught the glow of the torchlight as it moved, reminiscent of Morrigan’s oil slicked crows. “I must speak with a woman named Hekate,” he said. “I was told that if I followed the wolf, I would find her.”
“Do not worry, David,” a seraphic voice soothed him. Its owner’s mask appeared human, but lacked distinct features, glowing an iridescent white against the muted woodland colors that surrounded them. “Our Morrigan never stays away for too long. She always finds a way to be with the one who she eternally loves. You will meet Hekate when it is time.”
“Who are you? Why have I been brought here?” David demanded, feeling his frustration rise.
“Davius,” Libraean’s voice from behind the Sphinx mask implored. David blinked at his former name being used, as if just speaking it tugged at a time long passed. “Please listen to what we must tell you. There is much more for you to learn, but our time here is limited. The veil between realms cannot stay thin for too long. You have my word that you will speak with Hekate soon—and now you have learned you can trust it.”
David respected his point and allowed them to continue.
The angelic being spoke first. “We are the protectors of earthly affairs. All the gods and goddesses created in the collective minds of men answer to us, for we are the keepers of earth’s magic, a council formed out of her precious elements in the absence of the First Protector. We shift in image however we must so that men from all religions will hear us. Yet we are eternal, unchanged, and our duties remain forever the same.”
“The earth we now stand upon is the physical manifestation of the first magic, the Great She that existed at the beginning of time,” Taurus, the bull, continued. “Not only are we tasked with keeping it safe, but we work to maintain the earth’s precious balance, as Libraean once explained to you, for without it, this world would cease to be.”
“The dark god Lucius upsets this balance,” the lion said. “He has broken the sacred laws by which our realms follow, upsetting our natural order. His mere presence on this earth is an aberration, and now he threatens to destroy mankind, the very thing this world depends upon. He must be stopped. You are the only one who can do this, for you are the only creature that matches him in strength and power, but with a soul of a benevolent god.”
“So I am constantly told,” David sighed. “Though I do not recall any of it.”
“There is still more you will learn, more will remember,” the eagle reminded him. “But it is not time. A great war is approaching and Lucius has already begun to prepare. Unbeknownst to you, he has been teaching his nemorti how to fight, training them while you embark on your travels or remain isolated in your study.”
“Your omniscience is unnerving as always,” David remarked.
“David, he plans to strike soon,” Taurus interjected, ignoring the comment. “He intends to turn the world into blood drinkers, ridding the earth of the plague that is humanity while positioning himself as the reigning supreme. For a myriad of reasons, we cannot allow this to be.”
Wind picked up in the air, gently rustling the dome of leaves overhead. David crossed his arms across his chest. “I still do not understand what you are asking of me.”
A figure emerged from behind the circle of masked men, his face visible in the torchlight. David was surprised to discover he was a nemorti, but his body boasted the strength and resilience that emulated that of a true immortal. His skin was a tawny brown, his eyes a rich cocoa, rimmed with eyelashes so dark it looked as if he’d lined them with kohl. His hair was so unkempt that it stood away from his forehead, his absence of upper facial hair drawing attention to a wide mouth that tapered into a narrow chin and a pointed crop of chin hair. He wore the common clothing of peasantry, his embroidered linen shirt open at the neck, despite the chill in the air. “We need you on our side or it will prove to be a fight too great to win,” he asserted, his voice thick with Wallachian dialect.
“And who are you?” David raised an untrusting eyebrow.
“Forgive me,” the man bowed. “My name is Dragos. I am part of the resistance that has risen up against the Imposter Prince. We number the hundreds, creatures and humans alike. Our plan is to aid in the restoration of balance, allowing blood drinkers and humans to live freely amongst each other without interference in each other’s’ affairs.”
David snorted. “How can that be, if we must feed upon humans to survive?”
“I have just shown you,” a low voice broke in. The wolf had been restored to his human self, the formerly imprisoned jester staring at him from beneath his barbed net. His silvery beard was still streaked with nemorti blood, what was left of his clothing hanging off him in shreds. The knights wordlessly released him from the web. “Most of the blood drinkers in our army feed off animals, like humans do,” he continued, sweeping the dirt from his trousers as he stood. “Others feed off the sick and dying, some take samples without the act resulting in death, all from willing participants.”
David was taken aback by his brawn. He was taller than David’s own substantial height, his chest wide and muscular with broad legs like elder tree trunks. His ribboned clothes revealed a full body of tattoos David hadn’t noticed before, their markings and color similar to those drawn on the goddess Morrigan.
“Danulf is quite right,” Dragos chimed in as he threw the man a fur lined cloak that he’d retrieved for him whilst he spoke. “Blood drinkers do not need to kill men to survive. It is a preference of the Imposter, who grows more corrupt with each life he takes.”
“Surely, we do not need to explain all of this to the infamous monster with a conscience,” Danulf quipped, throwing a half smile at David before he secured the cloak around his body and laced up boots that had also been procured for him. As he bent forwards, David realized the back of his hair was quite long, braided into ropes that had grown matted over time.
Dragos ignored the remark and continued with his attestation. “I have not fed upon any human besides my sire, Vlad Tepes, for years, yet I am endowed with the strength of ten men. Human blood is an unnecessary luxury, nothing more.”
“Lucius created you?” David did not hide his surprise.
“Yes, I was created to be another nemorti slave, but instead, I serve as a spy for the Insurgence,” he explained with an air of high self-regard.
“We digress from our purpose,” the angelic man reminded them softly.
“You want me to be a part of your war,” David stated for them.
“Correct,” Dragos replied. “Danulf and I wish to take you to our stronghold, where you can see our army for yourself. That was our original purpose in Danulf infiltrating the castle, though we had not anticipated he would fail to reach you until after the full moon.”
“I had a plan,” Danulf growled defensively.
Dragos disregarded him once more. “Now that things are back in order, we have much to discuss with you.”
The bull lifted his hand to arrest the speedy arrangements. “Before you depart, David, we will need your word.”
