Chapter 1

Mallory

3E Autumn, Ocdàm 17, 3051

In the village of Atayas roars of fury and pain echoed as more souls returned to the Inafàn, the Void. They weighted Mallory as she ran, choked and fueled by their anguish.

Keep moving. To the elders. I aid them I aid us all. Keep moving.

Through the smoke and gaps between the buildings of Atayas ravages of her people, the guards and those attacking them invaded her vision. All attackers appeared to be vampires. One pounced from a roof, another jumped easily on to a building two stories high.

Why? Witches and vampires were at peace. The Council of Races had always kept it that way. Has there been strife? Mallory struggled to focus. No. Father would have said something.

Vampires moved in blurs of speed in their savage bloodlust. They were crazed in their fighting, akin to cornered beasts. They looked unaccustomed to such power.

They are new, Mallory realized.  Some must be rogues or… perhaps one of them. For a sufficient force many needed to be turned to achieve such an unprecedented attack by a race so small in number.

Mallory had heard of an attack on a human village by only ten or so vampires, but that was near a century passed. Never had vampires attacked a coven, and hers was only one village, mostly made up of witches of life.

Even the others who married in, witches of other types or covens, and beings of other races all aided in helping people. Theirs was a village of healers.

There were foul rumors, yes, but my covens heals, make enchantments and… Stumbling, she crouched, panting at the nails of smoke digging in her throat. This is mad! That cannot be it!

She heard of attacks on her people in the past. It was the reason her people lived as they did, walled and few. It was why the human king provided his guards for their protection.  Those attacks had always been about one thing.

These are vampires, her mind yelled in confusion. But if they want it for humans then maybe…  No! This cannot matter now.

She began to move again. The closer she came to the center of her village, both the number of vampires and the number of her people rose.

Some must have fled into the caves or past the wall. She witnessed a few witches of life healing the wounded covering them in white haze. Many others fought.

A few elemental witches wreathed in the golden yellow of their magic threw fire or shook the earth. A witch of force held onto an invader, the burgundy glow of his magic surrounding both he and his target. Mallory could almost hear the vampire’s bones as they broke. The bearkin had partially shifted and cut another down with her claws. A few of the humans that did not act as guards had even taken up arms. As Mallory moved forward, she saw unfamiliar bodies lying in the ash and dirt.

Mallory sped. Burning flesh and the smell of smoked clawed at her. Yet, it was the sight of her people littering the ground that caused a river of tears to threaten.

We are giving our all, but it is not enough. Most of us are witches of life. Our magic is not meant to harm. Against vampires there is little hope.

The further she proceeded the accuracy of fear became apparent. The more of her people she witnessed dead or under their compulsion’s sway.

I must try. I must lend my power to the elders.

Only one of the elders homes, now in smoldering ruins, remained between her and the square. Above the carnage Mallory heard blood curdling cries.

“No,” she whispered as she burst forward.

Mallory glimpsed the burning coven house at the foot of the mountain, crumbling in on itself. The other buildings surrounding the square were destroyed. The square, once a large circular clearing of soft grass with one stone path circling it and another down the middle. That evening the area had been set with a cooking fire and several tables for the celebration. Many of her people had been playing instruments.

Now the music was silenced. The paths were rubble. The green grass had been horribly altered, scorched black from fire.

Scattered amidst it all were corpses. The bodies of over a dozen vampires lay around the clearing. In the center were the broken and bloodied remains of more of her people.

Gods no, Mallory prayed rushing towards them, towards one in particular.

“No!” she cried falling to the ground before Sasha Heart, her mother. Her throat was torn away, the soft brown waves of her hair were matted with blood; her lifeless gray eyes were turned toward the coven house.

“Mal,” a soft voice called.

“Mallory, run!” someone sounded.

She looked up at the rough voice. Through tears she saw her father, coated in blood and dirt, on his knees before his staff whilst their home burned behind. As he tried to get to his feet, a figure darted from the shadows breaking his nose to the ground.

“Fath-”

“Hello little witch,” a cold voice mocked.

Her father looked to her, his terror building in a wave. Beside her she saw the tips of blood-caked black boots before closing her eyes and bowing her head, unwilling to meet his gaze.

“So, tis thee,” he pronounced. “Alec Heart’s daughter, the one about to take The Rite.” His footsteps stopped just in front of her.

“Leave h-” her father began before letting out a pained grunt.

“Stop!” Mallory choked.

She heard the vampire laugh, crouching before her. He took her chin in his sticky hand. Yet it was not the feeling of blood that made her try to pull away. His cold touch reviled so much to the point of near physical illness.

“I must admit thou shalt make a most fetching immortal.” A disgusted shiver ran through her as his chuckle brushed against her hair. “Open thine eyes little witch.”

Mallory clenched her jaw and squeezed her eyes in defiance. “Look. At. Me.” He demanded, voice growing more impatient.

“No.”

His hand slipped from her face as he rose, moving to her hair. He forcefully grabbed it and jerked her to her feet whilst his other hand gripped her hip.

“Mal. Open your eyes,” the soft voice called again.

 “Look at me!” the vampire roared She screamed, her eyes flying open as bones cracked under his grasp. Immediately upon seeing his eyes, she wished she had not. He was one of them, one of the tainted.

Just under his blond bangs Mallory saw no whites to his eyes, eyes far older than the face that held them. Eyes that had been completely overcome by a pitch-black darkness. Whatever color his irises normally held was consumed by a malevolent blood red glow.

For much of the vampire race nothing but an unnatural glow emitted from eyes of normal color. Vampire diets and abilities were unnerving, but they were people, capable of both good and ill.

However, the vampire before Mallory possessed a soul completely tainted by darkness. Whatever virtue he may have had was gone. He chose to dance in malice and visibly reveled in Mallory’s pain.

His fangs flashed with his grin as the compulsion, a power in his eyes tried whispering to her will. “Thee has been taught how to make the Elixir, yes?”

She bit her tongue. Resist, she thought to herself, hoping beyond hope that her source of magic and inherent ability she was meant to have gave her leverage over his power.

“Thine power of will is impressive. Even with thine magic it shall do thee no good. I shall ask again. Does thee know how to make the Elixir?”

Her mind screamed in desperation, she tasted copper before whispering . “Y… Ye…”

No, no, no!

“Mal,” the soft voice called again, clearer.

“Most excellent.” Moving the hand that had been at her hip up to his mouth, the tainted bit into his wrist.

No. Please, Gods no, her mind wailed, her voice failing to come.

“Mal, wake up,” the voice called again.

Using the hand still at her hair, the vampire forced her head to the side exposing her neck before he bit down.

“Mallory!” her father cried.

The despair in his voice was lost to excruciatingly pain. A scream tore from her before the vampire shoved his wrist to her mouth, forcing his blood down her throat. His blood filled her while hers did him. Not soon enough, he removed his fangs and let her fall.

Mallory barely registered her father’s screams as her body convulsed. Knives of fire and ice filled her veins, flooding the entirety of her body with agony.

“Mallory!” the voice called again.

Her eyes fluttered shut, she heard a sickening crack and a wet tearing before a thud sounded. Her eyes opened again as she let out a scream seeing her father on the ground.

Weakly, he reached out to her as a pool of blood grew under him. His light green eyes looked desperately into her matching ones as he spoke, “I… I am sorry Spark… so sorry. Please… b… be strong.” His body stilled and his gaze lost focus before all went black.

4E Spring, Maram 6, 215 (Present Day)

“No!” Mallory shouted, darting from the furs as her voice echoed through the cave. The smells of scorched earth and the burning flesh of her loved ones scarred her memory. Yet, her stomach did not rebel. It had some comfort; she had some comfort.

Mallory looked to the pale hand on her shoulder as Afeerah’s dark blue eyes and sharply elegant face filled with concern. Mallory knew her own eyes would have changed. Her light green shade would now be a glowing white, overwhelmed by emotions.

For over two centuries she was not what she had been. Mallory was now a hybrid. She possessed both her original magic of a witch of life, but had the body and added abilities of a vampire.

Mallory’s eyes held Afeerah’s before breaking into tears. She fell burrowing her face in the silky cloud of Afeerah’s smooth white hair, breathing in her friend’s scent of mountain wind and fire. A smell uniquely drakin and Afeerah.

“Shh. Shh. Tis alright.” Her voice was as soft and gentle as it had been in the dream as it always was when Mallory woke from them. “Tis over, tis alright.”

It was not. It never was after those terrors. Yet grief and sorrow could not keep Mallory from the day. Calm down. Mallory implored herself as she shook. Healing Mariella after she came to us, laughing at another broken bone. Mother scolding me for my pitiful skills of nature as father laughed. Nothing past worked. Fee’s jests at the dryads. Flying with her through the sky. No recent memory granted her peace either. That one then, Mallory realized. Him. That young boy with sparkling sky-blue eyes. Finally, the tears stopped, and she caught her breath, her heart slowing to its normal, almost stagnate pace. Thoughts of my people and Fee may fail… But never thoughts of him.

Mallory pulled back from Afeerah and gave her a weak smile, sniffling, wiping her wet face with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Fee,” she whispered.

“No need. I’m here Mal. In this life…”

“And the next,” sighed Mallory.

Afeerah’s lips curled, but Mallory could still sense her concern.  “Which one?” Afeerah inquired.

“The night The Cleansing started, my village burning and…” Mallory gestured at her eyes now fading back to their natural green, “Rodrick turning me.”

Afeerah dipped her head. She the pain caused by The Cleansing. Afeerah, a drakin, was one of the naturally immortal, or ageless races, a  dragon shapeshifter. She was older than Mallory and recalled with longing the time of peace, now distant history to most.

“Sorry, Mal.”

Mallory nodded and rose from the furs as Afeerah sat. Her friend also knew, that as traumatic as that nightmare may be, it was not Mallory’s worst.

Stretching to ease the ache of the stone floor, Mallory made her way to another section of the cave. She and Afeerah had resided here for a few months now. Both had to stay moving; both were being hunted.

The new Council of Races, headed by the vampires who killed Mallory’s people, wanted Mallory for her ability to make the Elixir. They hunted Afeerah simply because she was a drakin and a threat. After The Cleansing, the new Council ordered all drakin slaughtered. There were a few hundred before. Now the best estimate was that less than one hundred remained, at least on this continent. Other drakin lived in other lands and it was hoped that some drakin escaped to refuge. Afeerah and much of her family were not so fortunate.

Gods pardon my gratitude for that, Mallory mourned. I do not know what I would have done without her. Or her without me in this place. Hard to pass that pale skin and shining white hair off as anything other than shifter. Thank the Gods she needed supplies in the human’s lands, in Centriah’s capital, Fredarin. Thank the Gods we have been together since. She makes shacks and caves like this almost like home.

Mallory moved to a bucket of water along one of the outer red walls and splashed her face, cleansing herself of sweat and any remaining images sticking in her mind. Wiping away some of the water, she tucked one of her damp wavy locks behind her ear and looked to the early light of dawn peaking through the mouth of the cave.

“Still going to Thethras?” Afeerah asked as Mallory dressed in a crevasse.

“I am,” Mallory replied. “Was there anything else we needed, aside from bread?”

“Perhaps more meat,” Afeerah responded. “The dryads said they would help me snag an elk but if that fails…”

Mallory smirked. The dryads hated famine horses, as they called them, that fed from their bark. They always agreed to aid Afeerah in slimming their number.

Ere long, Mallory emerged dressed in her preferred travel attire, a white cotton tunic, brown vest, and thick brown trousers with worn leather boots. Looking back at the growing sunlight, she grabbed a hooded cloak before picking up her basket.

“Very well. I have herbs to sell anyway. I can bring both the meat and bread back upon my return.” She turned to the entrance and found Afeerah standing before it with a mug in hand.

Shit!

“Speaking of food…” Afeerah began.

“Fee, the sun will not kill me and I can hunt an animal on-”

“On the way to a town filled with humans that don’t care for any save their own? You need to feed on blood that will do more than just allow you to walk unbothered in the day. If you need to use your vampiric abilities or magic, you need blood with more substance.”

“You do not always have to-,” Mallory began before cringing as her companion cut her palm over the mug with a shifted nail. The white scaled claw fell to the side whilst her normal hand bled into the mug. Afeerah let a small bit of blood flow in before she pulled back.

“And you don’t always have to argue,” Afeerah stated grinning victoriously at Mallory’s white gaze and fangs.

Mallory glowered but conceded her point. Using her powers, whether vampire or witch, meant she needed something more than what animal blood afforded.  

Mallory brought the mug to her lips and let the blood fill her. Drakin blood was warm, but slightly bland with more power than human. Humans blood did not provide the power of the other races. However, human blood had the best taste. They were closer to deserts.  

When the cup emptied Mallory looked to Afeerah’s still bleeding hand, already outstretched. Placing her own over the cut, Mallory called on the source of her magic. Her white haze covered both their hands fast before fading. As always, there was not even a scar.

“Thank you,” Afeerah said.

“Any time. Though you tend to be forceful about it, thank you for…”

“Wouldn’t have to be forceful were you not so stubborn” she playfully chided.

Laughing,  Mallory stepped back and walked towards the entrance. “You say that though it is just me.”

She heard a snort as Mallory stepped out and moved along the small footpath leading down the side of the mountain. A path away from the waterfall to her side.

Still smiling, Mallory let her vampiric nature heighten her perspective of the world. Time slowed as she ran, to all others, in a blur. That speed was one of the few benefits she enjoyed of her unwanted vampiric nature.  

It was one she kept up as she made her way through the woods. It was one she forced to soothe her as she blurred south to the small village of Thethras.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2