fiendish abduction,
but rather a flight by a couple madly in love? A young vampire Nobleman and a human
lass—linked not by fear and contempt, but by a bond of mutual love all the stronger
for its hopelessness. Were that not the case, there was no chance this girl taken
from a village where everyone had been turned into vampires would still be untainted,
her skin still unbroken.
For the Nobility, drawing a human into their company was part of how they fed, colored
as it was by their aesthetic appreciation of sucking the life from someone beautiful.
But at the same time, the act was also filled with the pleasure of violating the unwilling,
as well as the twisted sense of superiority that came from raising one of the lowly
commoners to their own level.
Mayerling had done nothing of the sort. He did no more than lead the girl from her
home, taking her by the hand as he let her into his carriage and nothing more. He
had not used freedom-stealing sorceries, nor veiled threats of violence against her
family to force her compliance. The girl had quietly slipped out of the house of her
own accord.
From time to time, such things did happen. Bonds formed between the worlds of the
humans and of the supernatural. However, they didn’t necessarily become a lasting
bridge between the two worlds, and typically the couple concerned would be chased
by a stone-wielding mob. As was the case with these two.
The Nobility flickered in the light of extinction, and the girl had lost any world
she might return to, so where could the two of them go? Out among the stars.
Mayerling raised his face.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “It seems the dawn will be early today. If we’re to gain a
little more ground, I shall have to see to the horses.” Kissing the girl on the cheek,
he returned to the coachman’s perch like a shadow.
Whip in hand, it was not to the fore that he first turned his gaze, but rather to
the darkness behind them. In a place cut off from all the rest of the outside world,
he heard the clomp of iron-shod hoofs approaching from far off. “So soon,” he muttered
to himself. “That would be D, wouldn’t it?”
A crack sounded at the horses’ hind as his whip fell. The scenery on either side flew
by as bits and pieces. However, the ear of the Noble caught the certain fact that
the hoofbeats were gradually growing closer.
“Just a little further to the river,” Mayerling muttered. “Hear me, O road that lies
between him and me. Just give me another ten minutes, I beseech thee.”
—
Oh. He’s finally catching up,” Nolt said. In the cloud that held his gaze, a small
luminous point began winking ahead of D. Light spilling from the windows of the carriage,
no doubt. “Give him another five minutes. No matter which one buys it, it’s all sweet
for us. So, what kind of vision you gonna show us next, bro?”
He didn’t get to ask Borgoff anything, as his words died down to muttering when he
saw how the oldest of the clan was completely focused on the mirror, to the exclusion
of all else.
Perhaps it was due to this unprecedented sorcery, a magic that could choose one scene
at will from the moon’s gaze—which was privy to all things on earth—and then use cloudbanks
as a screen for projecting that scene, but, for whatever reason, every scrap of flesh
on Borgoff’s colossal frame seemed to have been chiseled off. He looked half-shriveled,
almost like a mummy.
When Nolt turned his eyes once again to the screen in the mass of clouds, he muttered
a cry of surprise. At some point, the scenery rushing by D on either side had become
desolate rocky peaks. “Well then, big bro, you thinking of maybe starting a landslide
or something to bury the bastards?”
—
At last, Mayerling’s darkness-piercing vision caught the black rider. The tail of
his coat sliced through the wind, billowing out like ominous wings.
Could he face
but rather a flight by a couple madly in love? A young vampire Nobleman and a human
lass—linked not by fear and contempt, but by a bond of mutual love all the stronger
for its hopelessness. Were that not the case, there was no chance this girl taken
from a village where everyone had been turned into vampires would still be untainted,
her skin still unbroken.
For the Nobility, drawing a human into their company was part of how they fed, colored
as it was by their aesthetic appreciation of sucking the life from someone beautiful.
But at the same time, the act was also filled with the pleasure of violating the unwilling,
as well as the twisted sense of superiority that came from raising one of the lowly
commoners to their own level.
Mayerling had done nothing of the sort. He did no more than lead the girl from her
home, taking her by the hand as he let her into his carriage and nothing more. He
had not used freedom-stealing sorceries, nor veiled threats of violence against her
family to force her compliance. The girl had quietly slipped out of the house of her
own accord.
From time to time, such things did happen. Bonds formed between the worlds of the
humans and of the supernatural. However, they didn’t necessarily become a lasting
bridge between the two worlds, and typically the couple concerned would be chased
by a stone-wielding mob. As was the case with these two.
The Nobility flickered in the light of extinction, and the girl had lost any world
she might return to, so where could the two of them go? Out among the stars.
Mayerling raised his face.
“What is it?”
“Nothing,” he replied. “It seems the dawn will be early today. If we’re to gain a
little more ground, I shall have to see to the horses.” Kissing the girl on the cheek,
he returned to the coachman’s perch like a shadow.
Whip in hand, it was not to the fore that he first turned his gaze, but rather to
the darkness behind them. In a place cut off from all the rest of the outside world,
he heard the clomp of iron-shod hoofs approaching from far off. “So soon,” he muttered
to himself. “That would be D, wouldn’t it?”
A crack sounded at the horses’ hind as his whip fell. The scenery on either side flew
by as bits and pieces. However, the ear of the Noble caught the certain fact that
the hoofbeats were gradually growing closer.
“Just a little further to the river,” Mayerling muttered. “Hear me, O road that lies
between him and me. Just give me another ten minutes, I beseech thee.”
—
Oh. He’s finally catching up,” Nolt said. In the cloud that held his gaze, a small
luminous point began winking ahead of D. Light spilling from the windows of the carriage,
no doubt. “Give him another five minutes. No matter which one buys it, it’s all sweet
for us. So, what kind of vision you gonna show us next, bro?”
He didn’t get to ask Borgoff anything, as his words died down to muttering when he
saw how the oldest of the clan was completely focused on the mirror, to the exclusion
of all else.
Perhaps it was due to this unprecedented sorcery, a magic that could choose one scene
at will from the moon’s gaze—which was privy to all things on earth—and then use cloudbanks
as a screen for projecting that scene, but, for whatever reason, every scrap of flesh
on Borgoff’s colossal frame seemed to have been chiseled off. He looked half-shriveled,
almost like a mummy.
When Nolt turned his eyes once again to the screen in the mass of clouds, he muttered
a cry of surprise. At some point, the scenery rushing by D on either side had become
desolate rocky peaks. “Well then, big bro, you thinking of maybe starting a landslide
or something to bury the bastards?”
—
At last, Mayerling’s darkness-piercing vision caught the black rider. The tail of
his coat sliced through the wind, billowing out like ominous wings.
Could he face
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