Edge of New Salem, 3009
Day—Thursday of the Seventh Hour
Twilight
III.
The judgment
The air was crisp, fresh, and clean from the recent rain shower. The dark sky was clear, no clouds were in sight to block the moon, only the tall trees that stretched oddly to the skin—like bony fingers. She took a deep breath, allowing her to taste the scents of those around her. Wrath and Envy stood to her left, while Sloth stood off to her right, a grim line across his face. They stood waiting in the darkness for over two hours, waiting for news on the new hunt, and the ones they captured, from here they would blindfold and beat them until they were unconscious, and then transport them to the Council of Elder to be judged. If they were found guilty, then they—the Moissonneuses d'âme or Mietitrici di anima; the soul reapers—would choose their deaths, whether it be from sunlight, or from the need to feed, but refused, they would die.
She turned to Wrath, the distant look on his face told her that he was anxious for the judgment, and she knew that if the others were denied—were to be killed—then he would have to be sent along side her to send word to the Vampire Lord Aubrey. She turned to look at Envy, the tall black hair woman stood aloof, waiting for the signal that would make her fall into the second dimension, and never return. And Sloth, his face was deathly ash, large and overweight; he had the speed of twenty deer, and the strength of seventy men.
The wind blew a whistling song.
She studied each of her companions, knowing that each of them stood for four elements that predicted the downfall of the First One. Wrath, fire for he burned brightly with hate for all those who kill out of selfishness, hated love for the pain, and the weakness it brought; Envy, the ice, she who freezes all, from water to ice, but melts to the sight of fire, weak; Sloth, the wind, the carefree one that comes and goes gaily, without a whim; and her, Ni, the darkness….
She always wondered about herself, her inability to house any light, but know only darkness and the blood of a thousand lives drained, but never forgotten—she was no better than the vampires themselves. She may have killed, but for every drop of blood that fell upon her—whether it be her sword or tongue—she preserved the memories—the pain and sorrow, and the joy that will never belong to those who plead their lives to the Mietitrici di anima—and never forgot. She could bear to know that she killed, took a life that had more to give, and let them go on without them never being remembered, at least to those who loved them, and even then they would fade.
The tattoo along her lower back tingled with anticipation, signaling they didn’t have long before the Ramasseurs arrived with the prisoners.
Ni turned to Wrath, only to find that he was already looking at her, and Envy was—being envy—gazing at her as well with the poison and hate of a serpent. Sloth too turned to look at her as if there was something different, something that she missed. She was about to speak when Wrath’s deep voice that broke the black silence around them. “Ni, your scent has changed.”
Envy’s looked confirmed what Wrath said. “Yes, of course, have done something?”
Ni shook her head. “Surely you’ve must’ve,” Sloth’s voice was high-pitched, but soft and slurred, “after all you don’t smell the way you usually do.”
She looked at them all funny, about to politely suggest they were imagining things, but of course they weren’t. There was something strange about her.
“Le courroux, vous quels sont, la Jalousie, et la conversation de Paresseux de?”
Envy sneered disgustedly, her eyes dark as coal as they looked at her. “Speak the language we talk, not that ‘elegant’ French that you know.”
Ni shook her head. “Of course, but you Envy do not have the power in our society to talk low to me. With my position compared to yours, I could have you judged just as the vampires will be.” Her voice was low but sharp. She heard Envy’s reaction, a hiss of anger and then the clenching of her jaw.
“Sorry, Lady Ni. I did not mean that in a harsh or ridiculing way.” Her tone mocking, and crude.
“It still should not have been said Envy.” Wrath spoke up, still gazing intently at Ni. “You were out of your place and however it may be, was wrong. If it were any other person than Ni, then you would surely be dead by now. Sometimes I wonder why she hasn’t killed you yet.”
“And what’s that suppose to mean?” She hissed back, imitating a snake perfectly since that was her guardian spirit. The snake that was as white as a diamond as it came into view, slithering along her neck, wrapping itself like a necklace. Her snake was her soul guide.
“It means that you deserve to die Jalousie.”
“Don’t call me by that name. My name is Envy.”
“It means that same thing, gigolette. If you don’t want to, you don’t need to be here. We don’t need you.” Sloth replied, giving out a high-pitch giggling.
Envy gave him a sneer, then with on last faltering look, disappeared in the darkness, the only sign of her presence at all was the tension in them, and the black stone snake that stood in her place in the ground. Wrath looked at the snake, a look of disgust upon his face, before turning back to Ni. “You scent, it smells more like a few plants, Ginkgo Biloba something else I can’t name. It’s the scent of some of your chakra, but that’s not all. There’s something here about you that I never noticed, I can hear you blood, as if it were singing, and I can smell it.”
He looked down at the dark woods below them. The hill they stood was tall, easy looking over the woods, to the village beyond; the tall wild grass hid many other plants. The main ones that were decorating the hill were the Field Poppy and the Corncockle, sometimes a few Cylamen and the Lady’s Slipper would pop out of nowhere.
For the first time, Ni studied what they were wearing. Their battle suits were much like hers, armor to cover the most vulnerable places of the blood, the color to match their bikes and persona, and their guardian spirit. They each had their swords on their hip, they way she suppose she should have hers, their guns on thighs—hidden—for easy and last minute weapons. The power behind them varied from each one firing.
Wrath was dressed in a black and crimson battle suit that went well with his muscular build, but was easy and comfortable to move in. The symbols of his armor was in Japanese were his heritage began; the ones on his shoulder stood for power, the ones on his elbows were for defending. The one over his torso and covering his stomach and back stood for heart, and the ones on his knees and calves were for strength. His guardian spirit was the horse, wild and untamed as him, as his fire.
His face was angular like an elf’s, but rougher; his ear naturally pointed like hers, except sharper, his eyes the same way, an intense blue that contrasted dramatically with his ink hair that was from his Irish heritage. His cheekbones were like her, prominent and beautiful structured, but unlike hers, manly. He wore his hair long, in a low ponytail that reached mid-back, straight like silk. He was tall, somewhere between 6” 6’ and 7”, but was gentle, when he wanted to be, other times as blood thirsty as her. He was her first companion since they meet well over ten years ago in a bar, where she was an uncover bartender and he was an uncover bouncer, they had meet under odd circumstances.
And Sloth, there was hardly any way to describe him. He was wearing soft baby blue, they clearly showed his bulging belly, weapons concealed everywhere he could hid them. His face was babyish, fat around the cheeks, small coal eyes, and small sharp teeth. He and she had been ‘acquaintances’ for many years, but after his parent’s deaths, everything that his family owned had been shared between her and him. She was like an older sister to him, and though he seemed a little…lost, he had bronze and some brain to make up for it.
His guardian spirit was an odd creature, said to be extinct, the hornet. Small but deadly.
Ni shook herself from her thoughts. “Wrath, what are you trying to say?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, okay? Just….” He stopped. They had all felt it at the same time. The direction of the wind changed, then stopped completely, and their tattoos tingled then burned. Rising from the dark shadows, they didn’t see the Ramasseurs, but knew they were there from the scents they gave off and the smell of blood—and madness.
“Ni?” Sloth and Wrath whispered to her at the same time.
“What?”
“I’ll speak to you later. At the bar.” Wrath whispered.
She nodded then turned to Sloth to see him staring straight ahead to the area the Ramasseurs were. She knew what he was thinking, or at least what he felt. The ball of lead that dropped into his stomach. He felt the blood and madness and knew his stomach lurched. “Sloth, you can go too if you need to.”
He turned to look at Ni, before shaking his head furiously. “No, I’ll stay.”
“Sloth,” Ni’s voice was low, warning, and left no room for compromise or arguments. “I want you to return to the Council of Elders, and tell them that we shall be there shortly. No go.”
He stared after her a moment longer, before nodding as if understanding her reasons and disappeared, a hornet in his place.
“Are you ready, or do you wish to leave too?”
He gave her a small smile. “No, Ni, I shall stay with you as I always have. Let’s go.”
--
The area that was used for congregating and judging was in an uproar, which was what everyone feared. The lower servants in society relinquished the argument all together, thin lips pressed into a thin line, they studied the others. The slightly ‘commoners’ claimed this to be a scandal, a conspiracy of some sort, or the beginnings of the third ‘blood call.’
Ni and Wrath sat in silence between the second and third elders. The high stone benches were lined like stairs, the lower on the bottoms, and the high ‘lord’ and ladies were at the top. They were at the top, currently overlooking the middle, watching the Ramasseurs draw back the whips to beat the chained vampires. No sound issued from the vampire’s lips as the whip hit their bare skin with a hard crackle.
Wrath barely leaned over towards her amidst the chaos, the loud voices, and the angry sneers, and inhaled her scent. She turned to raise an eyebrow towards him, his gaze still intently fixed on hers. “ What are you doing?” She hissed at him. “ Have you lost your mind entirely?”
“ You’re earring, the ‘damper’ to your powers, where is it?”
Instinctively she reached up to touch her eat where it was only to remember the vampire who stole it. She let her hand fall back to her lap before turning forward, ignoring Wrath and his question entirely. “ What happened to it?”
She pressed her lips into a thin line of determination. “ Now is not the time, nor the place to have this discussion, it’s too dangerous.”
“ Then at the bar?”
She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “ Is that what you were talking about earlier? Talking to me about my missing earring? I am sure I’ve misplaced it. I can always get a new one.”
He stared at her. Her defenses were up, and she was easily agitated, probably as anxious as he was to send message to the vampire lord whether his minions—which they were entirely convinced—were executed.
Still, what was it that was troubling her? “ The invitation?” He demanded, quietly, so no one could hear. “ What about that? Where did it come from?” She turned to him, her eyes ablaze, and surprised. She made to comment, simply looked down at his crossed arms, and turning to face forward once more.
The first elder stood, tall, his arm raised slightly, to demand silence. It was granted in the large area quickly. In turn, as he spoke his voice was booming and his wise eyes taking inventory. “ What have to brought for us Ni and Wrath of the First Mietitrici di anima?”
Anticipation clawed at her throat as she stood. It felt as if her heart had shot up into her throat, strangling her. Both her and Wrath stood erect, chins up, eyes leveled with the Elder, hands clasped behind their backs. She didn’t know whether she or Wrath were going to start. After all, she was female, and the male was higher than the female in the court, but she was the First Lieutenant and he was the Second. Did it really matter?
The Elder seemed to sense the turmoil; his voice began to boom again. “ Wrath, being the man, your choice to go by rank or the laws of the court.”
Wrath glanced at Ni out of the corner of his eye, and saw the small fidget that almost passed by unnoticed. He looked back to the Elder. He cleared his voice, his eyes level, and his voice strong. “ We have brought forth the issue of what many of you refer to as ‘The Third Blood Call’. Here we have four examples.” He swept his hands out for the crowd to turn to prisoners. “ Of the four, two are newly-made and the others are the of the man older ones.”
One of the lower servants yelled back, “ You should know that the newly-made is not as disciplined as the older ones against the blood call. After all, weren’t you one yourself?”
Wrath’s eyes turned colder, the beautiful blue melting in the darkness of his eyes. Before he could respond, Ni spoke. “ Whomever you are, you spoke out of turn, for this trail is above you and your position.” Her voice stung and burned like a poison. “ However, you should know, a newly-made can be as old as 600 years old, plenty of time to learned discipline. Wrath of the First Mietitrici di anima’s background is not relevant to this trail, therefore it should not be brought up. Understood?”
There was silence. “ Now, Elder, this four have been found on the scene of their crimes, covered in various of their victims’ blood. They have ruined innocence of plenty women, have killed them in ‘throws of passion’, and broke three of our kinds’ laws. Law I; Drink not more than you need, let the prey live, and merely feed, not kill. Law III; The forbidden are you remain forbidden, the preservation of innocence from which we have lost and not to be gained again. Law VI; Let our kind remain in secret. Law VII; Let not our need for kill overpower us. Law VII; we do not hunt, nor kill in each other’s respective territories unless, the terms of exceptions are meet.”
Wrath continued where she left off. “ We have already lost ten men, and over 60 civilians from these four alone, and can only imagine the damage the others are doing. But instead of hunting them down as we should, we are holding a trail to confirm what we already know: they are guilty on all accounts and must be punished accordingly.”
There was a murmur of agreement, and not a single objection, when they both sat when the Elder sat, talking with the Second and the Third Elder.
“ Silence.” The First Elder called for, and the room fell silent.
They all sat in silence waiting the verdict. The case had been brought together to all their faults to whether they should be executed or not. In the end the judgment was left up to the oldest elder—Killian.
His old, tired eyes scanned the faces of the accused, then the members of the council and the Mietitrici di anima, then to where the Ramasseurs were, before closing his eyes. “ Guilty.” His voice echoed.
The Ramasseurs began to lead the vampires from room, and everyone slowly began to disperse. Wrath caught Ni’s hand in his, his eyes showing emotions that she never seen before. “ Ni, please we must go.”
She nodded. “ I know. We’ll talk real soon, I promise.”
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Submission Name: The Judgment
