Visus Verus Volume 1 Page 10

  “And break tradition? I'd never.” Whispa was one for tradition; all wizards were, it gave them reason to wear their ragged robes and oafishly pointed shoes.

  “Please get on with it,” snapped Rose under her breath.

  Whispa licked the tip of his quill, dipped it in his inkpot and began with a deep wheezing breath. “Alexander Grenville, lord of the warlock conglomerate?”

  “Present,” said Alexander with one hand raised while the other filled a small glass with whisky.

  “Queen Charwood Draconise?”

  “Present,” said Char, reluctantly lifting her gaze from her iPad.

  “La bête Noir, lord of man?”

  “Here,” mumbled Noir.

  “Wyll Higgs, ambassador of the Vampire Nation?”

  “Present,” said the courteous vampire.

  “Mistress Rosario Jarvie of the witches’ circles?”

  “Present,” said the witch.

  “Lawrez Clarkson, Apex-Beta of the London wolfpack?”

  “Here,” growled Lawrez.

  “King Leo of the zodiac order?”

  “Present,” said the impatient king.

  Whispa quietly said his own name and ticked the final box on his register with a faint smile. He then took the stack of paperwork, licked his thumb and placed it within.

  “Okay, let's begin,” exclaimed Whispa, maintaining a spiteful gaze in Leo's direction. “Firstly, the council will acknowledge the blue moon. Starting from my right, please recount the issues raised.”

  Alexander was reluctant to share what he and his company of warlocks had used the blue moon’s light to accomplish.

  “In the light of the blue moon, several warlocks perished attempting to harness its power within their blood.”

  Warlocks practised blood magic in which a blood sacrifice would be made; either of their own blood or a proxy's, to enhance the power of their spells.

  Char broke off the attention she had been paying to the farm game on her iPad and peered over at Whispa with a look that literally said, Bother me again and you’re toast. “Nothing to declare,” said the dragon queen in a tone fitting her title.

  Noir laughed and put his arm around Char. This would happen during every meeting.

  Char would become enraged over an interrupted farming session, Alexander would lie through his well insured teeth, the smell of burnt vampire skin would fill the dusty meeting hall.

  Leo would only pay attention to things concerning him, Rose would eventually take control while Whispa tried to tighten the screws in his head, and Lawrez would remain silent. Noir enjoyed these meetings, even though he had no need to be there, as anything said at the table he already knew.

  He even knew the things that weren't said at the table. What he loved most about the meetings was that before they even started, he could predict exactly how they would play out.

  “Nothing to report,” said Noir.

  “Many of our brood met their final death last night! Some at the hands of rabid wolves, and some by the silver-lined blade of a certain zodiac knight,” reported Wyll bitterly.

  Lawrez gained a slight grin at this news. He was proud that the young wolves were able to defend themselves, but his grinning pride paled in comparison to Leo's, whose face bore the family grin perfected by his youngest sibling. His pride was somewhat vicarious. The silver-lined blade belonged to Regulas, the only zodiac to have properly executed the laws of Leo's ancient order.

  “We have grown plenty of medicinal, recreational and otherwise useful flora, most of which have already been appropriated by the alchemists’ guild,” informed Rose.

  “We lost few lives, luckily, and are still rounding up those wolves that unfortunately lost their inhibitions. Also, through a fortunate turn of events, we have managed to end the labour strikes in the east end,” stated Lawrez.

  “No lives lost, many new recruits, not much to report,” hurried Leo.

  Rose stood from the table, addressing the court as if she were the lead councillor.

  “Shall we address the taxing problems posed by the alchemists’ guild?” Whispa was happy to skip his report. He was unsure exactly what the students of his university had done with the power of the blue moon.

  “Yes, yes, Noir, I believe you are the authority on the alchemists’ guild’s activities,” hurried Whispa.

  Sho oversaw the construction of a new blood bank; it was perfect. The large glass blood tanks that filled the gargantuan main hall, were chilled isolated units labelled by blood type, and designed with large extraction taps for easy access to copious amounts of blood. The old bank was a dark and icy warehouse, built in the seventies. This new bank had air conditioning, a gym, a cafeteria and a very pleasant office for him to manage the flow of blood transactions. Even the human processing plant was comfortable.

  Ashel had approved the purchase of the bank earlier that morning and it only took the vampire’s labour force a few hours to construct the finest blood bank in the history of the Vampire Nation.

  Sho had been half relaxing in his office. The swift pattering of countless footsteps throughout the bank had been racing through Sho’s mind since construction began, so when the entire building silenced, Sho became uneasy.

  Sure that something was amiss, he rested his quarter-smoked spliff in the embedded ashtray on his desk and ventured into the bank halls. There was no sign of life, the empty halls echoed ominously with each step taken by the herald. Entering the main hall, the pungent fetor of burnt flesh stung his nostrils. Sho wasn’t one to panic, but the unsettling sight of numerous ash mounds not only shocked the defenceless human, it set his mind ablaze. There were no windows flooding light to cause this much death, no sign of a struggle, and such a number of vampires as this would easily have fought off any number of attackers. He couldn’t see a scenario that could lead to the death of every vampire in the building. Zodiacs, werewolves, no not even Leo himself, could silently reduce twenty-five vampires to ash. Sho’s body came to life as he realized he was next.

  The herald sprinted towards the exit with his heart rushing and his spine shivering with a chronic chill. The door was in his sight, he could make it out and escape the clutches of whatever monster had effortlessly massacred beings that would have been almost invulnerable to his own strength. Sho focused on the light of the exit sign; it got brighter as he drew closer.

  What was that? A shadow crept in the corner of his eye. What if it’s waiting outside? Sho reached the door. The cold steel handle wouldn’t budge. Shit, the key card. He could see it, resting on his desk, next to his spliff. Upstairs. Sho’s heart sank. He thought he had made it, and his entire body trembled as he turned around.

  A cast shadow met the tips of his toes. It didn’t look like a beast’s shadow; it was almost human. The herald followed the silhouette to a pair of large black leather boots, covered in auburn coloured mud stains. The boots ended with thick and hairy bone-white calves wedged inside their tops. The calves were short, barely six inches long. Above the solid hairless kneecap hung the bottom of a deep grey-scaled pair of shorts, made from the skin of an unearthly demon.

  Sho knew what he was seeing. The wide-set muscular frame stood before him at only four feet high, the clothing made from the skin of a beast known only from the deepest depths of the earth. The ashy white skin, untouched by the sun’s light, the wild wiry red hair from head to shoulder, the strong bustling facial hair and piercing blue eyes. Sho was sceptical at first, the reports could have been wrong, but before the herald stood a dwarf. Sho was once again stilled with shock as the dwarf crept closer, its heavy frame making no sound as it marched through the hall. Sho looked down at the dwarf standing before him, and it was like looking into the mouth of a roaring volcano. The Dwarf bore a black-toothed grin through its thick fiery beard.

  “Er yi scurd yhet?” spoke the Dwarf.

  The meeting in the U.A.K. dragged on with reports, lies and half-hearted sighs.

  Noir’s phone pinged constantly throughout.
Most of the councillors grew tired and impatient, with the exception of Char, who enjoyed the virtual world of farming on her iPad.

  “The death toll next, I believe!” exclaimed Rose hastily, in a tone promoting self-importance.

  “The death toll, please, Leo?” said Whispa.

  “Ten zodiacs, thirty-three vampires, seven werewolves, eleven warlocks, zero wizards, zero witches and eighteen humans. Also, there are several Piscean agents M.I.A. but that’s an internal problem,” stated the bored zodiac.

  “That's a lot of mundane deaths,” exclaimed Noir.

  “A lot of mundane deaths? We lost thirty-three younglings, that's exactly half of our yearly allowance,” spouted Wyll in anger.

  Due to their seemingly infinite longevity, vampires were only allowed to turn sixty-six humans a year. The zodiacs made this order thousands of years ago to allow the ratio of humans to supernaturals to be at a comfortable level. The alternative was a decimation once every decade.

  Leo sparked up at Wyll's anger, “Is there a problem?” started Leo, but before he could continue, Wyll struck the table with a powerful pound.

  “Oh my,” sighed Whispa, while the others’ eyes glistened with excitement as they watched Wyll’s veins swell with anger.

  “A problem? You refuse to let our kind expand while your knights murder more and more of our brood each year. Last year we made sixty-six vampires and lost over one hundred and eighty. We lose more every year, and you expect us to just accept extinction,” blurted Wyll, struggling to calm himself.

  Leo laughed as if he’d been told a perfectly timed joke. “Extinction? Please! You have over a billion humans that can be turned in a matter of days and you fear extinction like some kind of feeble animal. Please try to see our point of view, Wyll. The lives of your brood are meaningless. If you want, you can make seventy more vampires this year. Ha, I'll even put a ban on vampire killing for a year if you like.”

  Wyll had got his way but his anger only grew with every uncontrolled giggle that escaped Leo's mouth.

  “Could we move on, now that we have settled the vampire’s little problem?” spoke Rose over Leo's laughter and Wyll’s irritated huffing.

  The dwarf laughed with a husky bass. Sho didn’t know what to think, he was trapped with an unpredictable foe, armed with a giant stone hammer.

  “Intraduece yher self den uman!” snarled the dwarf as his laughter came to a sudden halt.

  “Sho Payam Mohsen, Senior Herald and lead accountant to the Vampire Nation,” replied Sho, holding back the vibrations of fear in his throat.

  “Gud tha uman kan speak. Ey sehr am Reggin von Rundeep. Yi sehr are important?”

  “I like to think so.”

  “A er… message yi kan sehnd?”

  Sho felt relieved; a message meant he would live, so his fear subsided as he wiped away the sweat on his brow. “Sure,” he replied with a slight smile.

  “Gud gud gud. Er.. umm.. to thi king ov thi er.. vampire…” Reggin stopped to think.

  “Nation?”

  “Procise, Yi tell thi king we thi Dwarves ave come to extinct all Vampire kind.”

  “Is that all?”

  “I say right?”

  “I believe so”

  “Gud gud gud. Ah Reggin forget, uman forgot card.”

  The dwarf walked over to the door and reached up to unlock it. Sho felt lucky, although he did still have to face the fury of Ashel. But that was better than facing the scythe of the reaper. Reggin handed the card to Sho and stepped close within his comfort zone.

  “Yi bleed, right? No ash?” asked the Dwarf.

  “Yes, I bleed.”

  “Gud gud gud.” said Reggin, through a black-toothed smile.

  The dwarf swiftly unsheathed a large dagger from the inside of his grey scaled jacket, which he proceeded to slide into Sho’s gut.

  The meeting continued with the councillors growing evermore restless. Char had finished playing her farm game and had begun playing another one with the same basic goals, but with more interesting animations. Alexander was on perhaps his sixth whisky of the day, Lawrez sat just twiddling his thumbs while Leo prodded his P.D.A. under the table. Wyll had managed to calm himself down and Whispa had managed to lose himself in the notes he had prepared for the meeting; all the while, Rose took charge, addressing only important subjects, hastily pushing the meeting forward.

  Noir scribbled a number on a piece of paper and threw it over to Lawrez, who read the number and looked up, with a puzzled look in his eye.

  “Before we close this meeting, I would like to address the fact that there has been some form of terrorism aimed at the Vampire Nation! Although they would not admit it, they will struggle in the future without pre-dusk assistance,” said Noir.

  “How did you…?” Started Wyll.

  “Am I right?” interrupted Noir. Leo sniggered at Wyll’s look of embarrassment, “Would you like our help?” he asked cynically.

  “I'd prefer to see our race extinct,” replied Wyll.

  “For Satan’s sake, didn’t we just listen to you sob about your fear of extinction, silly little bloodsucker?” laughed Alexander, finishing his whisky.

  “Perhaps the wolves could help… for a price?” suggested Noir.

  “That could work. But what would it cost us?” asked Wyll.

  Lawrez now understood the number on Noir’s note. The wolf took a pen from his pocket and jotted a pound sign in front of the number, then slid the paper over to Wyll. Looking at the number, Wyll’s eyes grew dark and any hope of arguing the price drowned in the wake of despair as Noir whispered, “You won’t get a better price,” into his cold, pale ear.

  “Could we address the elephant in the room, please?” spouted Rose, completely out of turn.

  “And what would that be, Rosey?” asked Alexander, in a lovingly sarcastic tone.

  “Noir’s shadow-fiend,” snapped Rose. Char placed her hand in Noir’s. “Well done,” she said, before returning to her farm game.

  “It’s not really a problem, is it? It’s just a silly prophecy written by a man who disappeared over two-hundred years ago,” replied Noir, showing a certain animosity against the prophet.

  “That man was the founder of this council,” heckled Whispa, from somewhere behind a pile of paperwork.

  “And where’s Seriph now? He left, why take any note of words uttered by a fickle minded coward?” Noir’s anger stemmed from something far worse than hatred, although he would never admit it.

  “Our world could be destroyed and you’re just sitting there insulting a man you have never met,” stated Rose in a tone displaying a superior kind of patronisation.

  “The world’s not going to end, I have the guy working for me. I’ll be teaching him and watching his every move. If you need to, you can send Mie-Mie over to analyse his consciousness as frequently as you like,” replied Noir.

  “That’s all I need to know. Meeting adjourned,” said Rose.

  With the meeting adjourned, Rose lifted her wand and burst into a school of butterflies that rushed out of the meeting hall. Char put away her iPad, kissed Noir on his cheek and said, “See you later.” She sprouted a pair of purple-scaled wings, which explained the peculiar cut of her top, and followed the fluttering horde. The rest of the councillors noticed that Whispa was still looking for his next keynote as the head of the meeting, but they were more interested in getting out of the stuffy meeting hall.

  Leo simply disappeared, while Wyll followed Lawrez out, being careful to avoid the rays of sunlight cast in the hall. With the meeting over and the vampire out of the room, Alexander walked over to the window and lifted the blind.

  “You know it won’t work, right?” said the warlock.

  Noir stood, pushing his chair aside, “If it doesn’t work, then I guess your wife was right to worry.”

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “I won’t let things get out of hand.”

  “He wants to see you.”

  “I’m sure he doe
s.”

  Whispa put the paperwork down and looked around the meeting hall in disappointment to see Noir stepping out of the room, and a swarm of moths spiralling out of the opened window.

  “And so, I Whispa Wurds, second lead councillor of the order of Midgard, do call an end to this meeting of my peers,” said the batty old wizard to himself.

  Noir stepped hastily towards Lawrez and Wyll, who were in a sort of heated discussion.

  “Our alpha wardens aren’t mercenaries. I can’t just lend them to the vampires,” argued Lawrez. Wyll’s temper rose again, “I’ve cut the damn cheque, you have agreed to aid us. Now you go back on your word?”

  “I agreed to give you wolves to defend your property in the day. I didn’t say I would leave our people undefended.”

  Lawrez bared his fangs, as did Wyll, and the anger felt between the two was the rage of an ancient feud. Lawrez extended his claws but before he could strike, Noir placed a hand upon his shoulder.

  “I really thought you two would have come to an agreement by now. I guess we are all fools,” laughed Noir. “Wyll, what you want is a ruthless band of beasts ready to spill the blood of any that threaten your holdings. Lawrez, what you need is to sate the bloodlust felt by your lower class. May I make a suggestion?”

  “Ah Noir, somehow you always know what everyone needs,” said Wyll, with the calming tone of someone about to get his way.

  “That is my profession, Wyll. Lawrez, have Cid contour an army of the lower class. Use the street dealers that have a revenue stream that’s more than expendable. I think you will both agree that there is no need to deliberate on this matter.”

  “That will work,” agreed Lawrez.

  “Thank you, Noir. I believe I have places to be,” said Wyll, speeding off in a blink, leaving only the fragrant stench of searing flesh as he passed through the beams of light shining through the hall’s windows.

  “I’d better go as well,” said Lawrez. Noir handed the wolf another piece of paper, this time with an address on it. “You may want to send someone there right away.”