Acacia Chronicle

Two nights later, in the Dreamless Crypt…

Now, the shadows of the Caliph’s apartment had been banished, cast aside by fiery candlelight from scented candles set in golden candelabra that, alongside the everburning flames of crystal chandeliers hanging high up from the ceiling above, set the darkness alight. The bloodstains and spilled wine upon the carpet, and the broken glass scattered upon the luxurious furnishings once hidden in the shadows had also been cleaned up, filling the nightly air with the faint scent of fresh roses in full bloom.

Dressed in red cleric robes, with steel plate gauntlets and greaves upon her arms and legs, Claire stopped in her tracks amidst luxurious surroundings so fleetingly familiar from a decade long past. From where she stood, just before the bejewelled doors held open for her that led directly into the bedroom, she could see so clearly amidst the fiery lights within, the pink-haired Caliph of Oasis, Lucid II. For there she stood, dressed in a bathrobe that clothed her battle-worn and scarred body in thick and rich folds of white cotton, waiting across her bedroom by the balcony past sliding doors left ajar, wine glass in hand as she gazed out into the horizon of the world of eternal darkness that was hers.

“Come forward, Claire de la Lune.”

Stifling a gasp, Claire entered the Caliph’s bedroom. The Vampire Lord’s voice was as graceful as she remembered it to be, and dare she say it, deadly like that of a seasoned blademaster. And yet it was, for lack of better words, weary. Tired, even. And the bedroom was exactly as she remembered it all those years ago, beautifully and lavishly furnished just like the other rooms prior and the rest of the palace at large, if not more so. There was, however, something she remembered to belong only to this chamber, and it was still there as she had first seen it, set meticulously upon a gilded armour rack with golden edges wrapped in oiled cloth – a blood-red set of notched and worn plate armour with pauldrons adorned with spikes, cloaked in black and topped off with a hooded helmet bearing an empty visage where a mask ought to be. Set next to it as a pair, placed upon equally bejewelled weapon racks flanking each of its sides, was a massive greatsword of red and black runes, and a jewelled truncheon crowned with a single crystal bearing a prismatic glow that simmered constantly with a pale light like that of an everburning flame.

“I am glad to meet Nhaka’s servant,” Lucid II continued, her back still turned and her gaze still upon the eternal night. “She told me about what happened to you, human. Most unfortunate.”

“Then you know,” Claire uttered quietly in reply as she made her way past the bed and the suit of armour set across it, stopping just few steps away from the opened sliding doors leading into the balcony. “That I’m…”

“Yes, I do. By the hand of the Dark Goddess, we both are.”

Lucid II turned around, and Claire nodded quietly. The Caliph’s face remained hidden behind a pale and metallic mask, its carvings both ornate and grey in the shape of what she could only assume was the face of death itself, covered partially in the middle by bangs of pink hair. She remembered seeing her unmasked face only once, shrouded by the colours of the night as they lay in that bed now just a few steps away, when the lights of the bedroom had been extinguished. But now, just like the darkness then, all she could find familiar as they gazed quietly into each other’s eyes, was the pair of pink eyes peering out at her through holes carved meticulously into the mask’s deathly visage.

“You are Nhaka’s servant. And yet, I remember those eyes of yours…” Lucid II remarked softly as she walked up to Claire, placing a hand gently upon her cheek while a nearby servant quickly moved in to relieve her of the glass of wine held in her other hand. “You are the Elician Jewel of Heretic, from one decade ago…”

“Your Majesty…” Claire uttered in reply, her voice wracked with wistful sorrow. “You remember.”

With her fingers caressing gently upon Claire’s cheek, Lucid II nodded.

“I do. Now that I see the pallor in your eyes, returning to this place feels like a lifetime past, does it not?”

Claire nodded in turn.

“It does, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed. Your life has changed ever since our last… meeting,” Lucid II added, nodding solemnly as she felt the cold steel of Claire’s plate gauntlets reach ever so gently for her outstretched arm. “I can sense the impressions of so many powerful beings upon you, aside from Nhaka’s. For one, the Ecclesiarch of the Central Church. My fellow Archon, Iris de Escaflora…”

“She healed me when I was on the brink of death,” Claire answered as she grimaced at Lucid II. “When I was cursed with, well, another curse…”

“The curse of the fallen dragon prince, Izoria Vhal…”

“Yes, I remember…” Claire answered, as tears formed in her brown eyes. “Under him, I was doomed to die. Were it not for Her Grace, and my beloved, I wouldn’t be here.”

“The Lord of Blades, Zaxas Nyzak…”

“He is my teacher,” Claire answered, closing her eyes as a bittersweet smile formed upon her lips. “He taught me how to wield a blade, and more importantly, to fight for the ones I love.”

“The fallen one the mortals now call Deadwood. She who was once the Keeper of the Forest, Elan Vita…”

“I was at a picnic with her at Purity Forest,” Claire answered as her bittersweet smile took on an air of pleasantness, as she opened wide her tear-stricken eyes to look directly once more into the deathly mask of Lucid II, and the pink eyes underneath still gazing intently into hers. “It was a strange experience… and it was Her Excellency’s idea. I’m glad I went along with it.”

“And perhaps most strongly upon you, of all these impressions…” Lucid II added, quietly. “The former Countess of Eldia, who now serves Nhaka as her Vizier and does my bidding for your sake. The Lich, the Soul Reaper, Elena de L’Enfer.”

Claire nodded.

“You’re right to say that, Your Majesty. She is everything to me.”

“I see,” Lucid II answered, nodding solemnly in turn as she slowly lowered her hand from Claire’s cheek. “And now, you have returned to me. Spoken for, and retired from your career.”

“Back then, I didn’t know that you’re a… Vampire Lord.”

Lucid II nodded once. From the gentleness she could spot within the Caliph’s pink-eyed gaze, Claire could not help but wonder if her host was hiding a smile, however small, underneath her deathly mask.

“I was of your mortal age when I accepted this… Blood Curse. For my Prince, and for my kingdom, I did. That night, in that moment when I rose anew from death, I thought I would survive many great battles and live to be a hundred. Now, I am four and a half centuries old.”

From within the confines of her mask, she closed her pink eyes shut momentarily and bowed her head wistfully.

“It is strange, is it not? The vagaries of life, and fate.”

“It is, Your Majesty…” Claire answered, blinking out the tears from her eyes. “There was a time in my life when I knew what was going to happen. Once, I was so sure I was going to spend the rest of my days taking care of my little sister, growing old in the Upper City.”

“And now?” Lucid II asked gently. “What of you now, my beloved Elician Jewel?”

Claire smiled a wry smile.

“Now, I am Claire de la Lune. And I stand before you again in the City of Dreams, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed you are,” Lucid II remarked out loud, before moving past Claire and into the bedroom with her hands behind her back. “Do you feel it, though? Now, without the accursed sun and free from the coils of mortality… you should be stronger. Sharper. And yet.”

“I feel… heavy,” Claire answered, as she followed in Lucid II’s wake. “Now, I’m always so… tired. Even after I feed…”

Near the bed and her Death Knight armour, Lucid II stopped and turned around.

“You have consumed the flesh of the dead, and the blood of the living.”

“I haven’t, Your Majesty…” Claire answered. “Elena prepares for me…”

“A cocktail of wine and blood.”

Claire nodded, only to falter when she spotted, from beneath the mask, how the Caliph’s eyes flashed with annoyance. And dare she say it, disgust.

“Yes, Your Majesty. Elena told me, that you’re the one who…”

“It is our custom as Death Knights, that much is true,” Lucid II stated curtly. “But does Elena truly think that a mere diet change can overcome what you truly are? For someone atop our Dark Goddess’s hierarchy, she is foolish.”

Claire frowned.

“What do you mean?”

“You have hungered before, only to have denied yourself of what you desire,” Lucid II answered, just as curtly. “I can see it in your eyes, Claire. The pain of denial, born out of some misbegotten mortal instinct you cling on to that you believe you still have.”

“You’re wrong, Your Majesty!” Claire retorted, barely able to conceal her anger. “I am what I am… but I don’t want to hurt anyone because of it! Elena’s been making sure of that, and…”

“She has, perhaps? But now, you are all alone.”

“What are you saying?”

The Caliph ignored her. Instead, she looked to her servants in waiting, and clapped her hands twice in quick succession. Immediately, they bowed before her and departed the bedroom, returning soon enough with another of their own – a human girl barely the age of twenty winters with tanned, honeylike skin, black hair, and blue eyes, who immediately shed her finery and prostrated her nakedness before the both of them.

“Your Majesty…!” Claire exclaimed, her eyes widening as she spoke, her gaze narrowing slowly but surely as it veered irreconcilably towards the naked servant. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Your mistress is no longer here to stop you,” Lucid II answered. “Go ahead. Feed.”