4. Chapter 4 (1/2)
the final part! it feels kind of super long, but whatever, that's how i divided it up. i hope you enjoy it!
vlad had spectacularly failed to get off to sleep, despite his best efforts. after a few hours, he gave up and crept into the room with the tv, just to see if they'd stopped talking about his family yet. he switched on fang!tv and froze, staring at the headline scrolling across the bottom of the screen as the newsreader's voice filled his ears.
"the dracula family had been in hiding for the last few years, ostensibly to protect their son vladimir from reprisals as he is rumoured to be the fabled chosen one. as previously reported here on fang!tv news, vladimir disappeared some months ago, but it's only now that the council have closed in on the draculas, suspecting foul play. did count dracula slay his own son to stop him from taking power? it seems entirely likely at this point. the council-"
he didn't hear the rest, too busy banging on bertrand's door. the older vampire's irritated expression barely even registered with his student."bertrand, it's my family, the council think they've killed me, they're going to be charged with treason…" he collapsed into bertrand's arms, shaking, and hoped his tutor could tell him what to do.
the monster wrapped his arms slowly around his student, processing what he had just heard."this is my fault. if i'd told the council you were with me…" he hadn't, though; he'd known they would want him to test the boy's claim straight away, and the monster had been trying to buy some time before he risked vlad's unlife. it suddenly occurred to him what he had to do.
"you should go home. show them you're fine, tell them where you were. save your family." vlad stepped back, looking up at him in total confusion.
"you're letting me go?" his tutor's face darkened."yes, i'm letting you go! you're free. you never have to see me again. now get out!" vlad almost hugged him again, wanting to say goodbye, wanting to say so many things, but the furious expression on his tutor's face stopped him. instead he turned and ran, heading straight for the unglazed window at the end of the corridor. before he'd reached it, he heard du fortunesa's door slam – and then he was soaring out into the night, speeding towards home. he was glad he'd still been wearing his cape, with hindsight, because he hadn't really thought about it before he made that leap.
he landed at garside to find wolfie standing in the courtyard, yelling at the vampires outside to go away. ingrid was standing helplessly in the doorway, glaring at the assembled councillors, heavies and press, but unable to make a grab for wolfie or even call for him to come inside, in case the vampires followed. the count was nowhere to be seen, and for a moment vlad feared the worst as he touched down beside his little half-
other."wolfie, go inside with ingrid." then he rounded on the councillors, trying to sound more imposing than he felt. "what exactly do you think you're doing?"
they stared at him dumbly, until one – augustus, if vlad remembered correctly – found his voice."we… thought they'd slain you.""yes, well, rumours of my death have been greatly exaggerated." he'd always wanted to say that. "i've been training, with du fortunesa. you've heard of him, of course." he enjoyed the way they shrank back at the mention of the name; he would have to tell bertrand about it some time. if he ever saw him again, of course, which it didn't seem his tutor particularly wanted to happen. "so don't think of harming my family."
"du fortunesa? but he would have told us." vlad glanced back over his shoulder as the councillors began to babble, relieved to see that his father had joined ingrid and wolfie in the doorway. he turned his back on the mob and went to check that his family were alright."he must have gone rogue.""he's dangerous, especially if he took the chosen one without telling us.""has he tested him? he must have done. du fortunesa would never let a pretender walk away." vlad turned away from his father's praise just in time to hear augustus' firm declaration."we'll have to deal with him." and with that, the council vanished.
vlad tried to follow them, but the reporters from fang!tv, as well as a ridiculous number of other networks, crushed in to ask him questions. eventually he was forced to retreat inside the school, the reporters taking off only as the sun began to rise. of course, that left vlad trapped, pacing the darkened corridors of a place he could barely remember calling home anymore.
"vladdy, you escaped, that's the important thing! the council will deal with the scoundrel." the count seemed to have forgiven the threat on his household already. vlad barely resisted snarling at him – where had he picked up that habit? – as he answered."i didn't escape. he let me go, he let me come home to save you." the count frowned."you can't seriously be thinking of going back? he can't force you to, not now the council are against him-""he told me to get out, he set me free. but if i fly the moment the sun sets, maybe i can still beat the council. he saved my life, dad, i owe him.""you don't owe anybody anything, you're the chosen one-""yes, and i need bertrand's help." the count stared at him for a long moment."who on earth is bertrand?"
the monster paced his coffin room, cursing himself, the council, even the draculas, under his
eath. he glared at the hourglass; there was hardly any ash left to fall and the majority of it, in the bottom half of the glass, was beginning to congeal, solidifying into the form of a bony finger. soon, he knew, the last of the ash would fall to complete it, and time would have run out.
he crossed the corridor to the other room, where the book rested innocently on its stand. only two types of people could open the book; the chosen one, who would be able to access its full secrets, and the guardian, for whom the skeletal hand reached in and plucked out a single page. he took it from between the bony fingers with a sigh. he knew what it said. he read it again anyway.
the guardian is hereby charged with the praedictum impaver and the crown of power until such time as the chosen one is ready to claim them. he shall destroy all pretenders, and he shall seek the true and rightful wearer of the crown. he shall know him by this book's response, and by his great deeds. the crown of power will tolerate no imposter; if the guardian does not destroy such a one, it will do so itself.
but the guardian's path passes through a dark forest lit by the day; he must find the chosen one before the glass of ash has run its course, or he will crumble and become as the creator of this book; nothing but a timepiece for a new guardian. only by kneeling before the chosen one as he wears the crown may he escape this fate.
guardian, you will suffer many disappointments. i have suffered too many and leave my very self to your cause. may you fare better, or deserve your destiny. sethius.
the monster placed the page back on top of the book, frowning when the skeletal hand made no move to take it back. the book was old, now; perhaps it had given up, too. soon – the monster shuddered to think of it – soon, the skeletal hand would be replaced by his own bones, the hourglass in his coffin room filled with his own ash, and the cycle would begin again. he felt a stab of pity for the dracula boy; if the book had recognised him, it seemed likely that he was the next guardian, doomed to endure the miserable existence the monster had carved out for four hundred years.