Chapter 69: The Bathory Family[2]
Darkness surrounded everything, the only source of light was the black hole which loomed over the horizon.
It never changed, never moved...just stayed there ever imposing as if it signified the end. Xior had once followed the black hole in the Abyss.
He thought that he might get back if he did, but even after chasing it for a year it always felt distant.
At the edge stood a palace, gothic in style with tall towers carved from black stone and looked as if darkness had encompassed them.
Inside that palace, in its deepest vast chamber a man was kneeling in darkness, his head almost touching the floor.
The vast chamber which was only lit by candlebars of black iron, it had velvet curtains which faded nearly to brown. A fire burned in the hearth made up of black marble
But even the flame gave no warmth, only a long dark shadow.
A man with silver long hair which fell in sharp strands over his crimson eyes and a long cloak trailing across the floor bowed low with his head pressing the cold hard ground.
In front of him hung a portrait, the painting was vast, easily taller than three men. The canvas was cracked with age, though the color was still sharp.
It depicted a woman reclining on a throne of ribs and skulls, her skin was pale and her lips were smeared crimson.
Whoever drew her had not painted her eyes but left them blank, two white voids staring outwards and piercing into the soul of anyone who dared to meet them.
The Bathory Patriarch was still bowing, his body trembling slightly as if he were a boy who once gazed upon this image with terror.
"M-mother..." His voice cracked, but soon it got swallowed by the chamber’s silence. "Forgive us."
He lingered there, his head low and both his hands pressing on the cold floor.
Oh great mother...they branded you a curse but it was you who gave us eternity. The deliverance from the fragility of flesh, the breaking of the chains that bind mortals to dust. But we paid it with betrayal and sealed you away, damning ourselves with the weight of treachery. And yet still your heart beats, even after a thousand years. It is relentless, unforgiving and a reminder that the truth cannot be buried, no matter how deep the coffin is.
His fingers curled as his breath came ragged, "forgive your children...forgive me."
The portrait looked as if it gazed back, its eyeless star was unblinking and its painted lips curved in the faintest of smiles.
*****
The Bathory Patriarch closed his eyes and the world shifted. The Abyss remained the same. The same black hole loomed over the horizon, thunder cracked overheard and ripped through the sky.
He saw his younger self, his limbs were still strong, his hair was black and his eyes burned with pride and fear.
He stood among lords and ladies of the vampire families, their crimson cloaks whipped as they walked.
Their pale faces were drawn tight but their gaze was fixed downwards to the heart of the island where a pity yawned.
Within the pit, chained by relics forged from their combined efforts lay Her.
The Mother of Depravity. Her body sprawled like a drowned goddess, half submerged in blood. Her face fanned out around her, strands that writhed like living serpents.
Her mouth hung slightly open, her teeth glinting and even in the storm’s fury her chest rose and fell slow. It was deliberate and unstoppable. It was proof that she still lived.
Her children were not strong enough to kill her, they never could match her. She was the Mother of Depravity, she had lived for a millennia more than they had.
The young lords trembled, each of them clutched at their weapons with bared fangs but their hearts ached apart from a few lords.
They started speaking words then started to chant curses. The chains forged of blood iron burned red as they tightened and sank into her wrists, her throat and her heart. She did not resist, only a small groan escaped her mouth.
She only watched them with her blank eyes filled with something deeper than rage, it was sorrow.
One millennia of sorrow was not enough that now she had to endure even this. Her eyes lost their glint as she stared at the children.
The Bathory Patriarch stood closer to where she was chained, he saw her expression turn to one of sorrow, his jaw tightened and his heart pulsed slowly and ached as if someone had stabbed their hand into his chest.
Yet he stood still and lowered his head and looked at his own feet. The final seal finally got into place, as the coffin closed over her body, but she whispered before it shut completely.
"Children..." One word was enough to fracture the Bathory patriarch.
It was enough to plant the guilt that would never die. The storm ended and silence surrounded the island, the coffin was thrown inside the pit...never to be opened again.
And the Bathory Line was bound forever to the weight of betrayal. The memory slipped away but he remained kneeling before the portrait, his lips trembling and his eyes wet as tears trickled down.
The chamber darkened further as he whispered again but his sound faded in nothing. He slowly rose from the ground and stood straight.
He patted his clothes and walked towards the opposite side he walked through a bridge connecting two towers of the palace.
He stopped in the middle and looked as far as his eyes could see, the black hole was still there.
It had been over a millennia, yet the black hole remained in the same place while he got older as time went by.
He was a hollow shell of what he used to be, he was involved directly in sealing The Mother but now he was weak and frail.
What a joke he was, he thought looking at the eerie black hole. Despite being one of the major people who sealed The Mother, he always thought about what a normal family would be like.
Did a normal family even exist? He asked himself that question every single night for a thousand years.
To escape the grip of The Mother, to not live for eternity in her shadow they did what they had to. She would’ve taken over the Abyss if she was not sealed.
*****
Xior came back to the place beneath the mountain, he carefully broke down some parts and entered the city. He quietly moved around and entered a building which seemed to be some office.
Inside he found a table cluttered with random stuff. On it he saw pages, he picked them up and read through it.
He found out about The Bathory Family being the ones who guard The Mother’s coffin. He then flipped through some pages but suddenly stopped.
One page stated that the Bathory Patriarch is going to send more people via a ship today. The word ship reminded of his group up there.
If the Bathory Family would use a ship then surely they would see them and a fright would break out.
He had to go quickly and warn them but then he heard the sound of footsteps and before he could get away ten guards entered the room clad in black armor, with pale faces beneath the helms and red eyes.
Xior cursed under his breath and tightened his gauntlet. The lead guard tilted his head and said in a calm voice. "You do not belong here."
Xior straightened and pierced them with his gaze. "Neither do you."
The air tightened, blood dripped from the nearby barrels as thought it was being drawn somewhere.
No one moved, they watched each and every single move of the other, their breath, the sweat trickling down their forehead, nothing was getting ignored.
Then the lead guard swung his hand in an upward arc, multiple blood tendrils shot towards Xior.
He raised his gauntlets to protect him but some still pierced his body, he groaned as the tendrils burned his skin from the inside.
He was in pain, much worse than a lot of things that had happened to him. His regeneration became dull.
He staggered and pulled out the tendrils and threw them on the ground. They shattered on impact and turned into blood which travelled towards the lead guard and formed a ball in his hand.
With a single gesture from him the ones behind him rushed in and started fighting Xior, he blocked their swords but in between his opening he would get hit by a small blood needle which would pierce his organs from within making his cough blood.
The guards saw him coughing and grabbed his arms and pulled his head back, this gave the lead guard enough room to pierce his chest with a huge tendril.
He lifted his hands and a long thick tendril was formed which shot towards him full speed. It entered his chest and the impact was so hard that Xior flew back, his back hitting the wall behind breaking it as he fell with the rubble falling on top of him.