Even with his mother’s spells, Charlotte did not love him. He’d made the mistake of letting who he truly was show itself to her. It was absolutely uncontrollable. He recalled the last careless day they had spent together before everything had fallen to hell. The natural sun shone so brightly over the pond water, and she’d looked so happy and beautiful as he watched her float there. There was no care in the world that day. But then the clouds rolled in.
He opened his eyes and looked around his empty bedchamber once more, at his traditional wedding suit hanging on the bedpost. He would make it up to Charlotte. He would be the best partner to her he could possibly be. He had made up his mind and stood from the bed to go and wash up.
Meredith and the others had scrubbed Charlotte down so her skin glowed just as brightly as theirs did. But Charlotte knew, even though she was miserable, she could not let on that Meredith’s spell had worn off. She must pretend she remembered nothing still as she sat in the parlor chair, letting the Elven women curl her hair and shine her up.
Meredith beamed. “You will look beautiful, my dear. We are all so happy for you! Glinda, get the perfume!”
“I know I will be,” Charlotte responded, without much color at all. She could not shake the image of Valek from her mind. “How much longer until the wedding?”
Meredith chuckled to her counterparts. “Look how excited my new daughter is to wed.” She turned to Charlotte. “Very, very soon, darling. Don’t you worry.”
The guards began down the stairs in two-by-two formation. Their grim complexions highlighted only by the small flames at the end of their fingertips as they marched through the doors into the dismal dungeon crypt.
“All right, leeches. It’s time to die,” the head officer grumbled.
The patrol attacked the cell doors, tearing them open to capture their prey. But when they expected to be met with the defeated pre-corpses of the doomed, the various Vampires and others slammed into them in pure riot. Balls of flames were flying as fast as fangs were.
Valek leapt out, slamming one of the guard’s faces deep into the bricks, flattening the skull. “Remember!” he called out. “Don’t be afraid to drain them! You are to die, anyway! Their magic can’t hurt you now!” He ran past the various battles about the dungeon. Francis and Lusian were close next to him as the three began to climb the stairs to the upper parts of the palace.
“Francis, you must find the main quarters now, before Vlaidslov leaves to attend the wedding,” Valek said grimly as they ran.
Palace guards that stood on the upper floors began to chase after them, hurling whatever elements they could in an effort to stop them. Electricity, wind, ice, but the three were determined and successful at dodging each of the attacks.
“I know. I can smell the vile stench of him from her,” Francis said. “Valek, before I leave,” he started, as his turn was coming. “I want you to know how much I truly care about you. As a friend and as a creator. You are amazing to me, and if there is no afterlife for me to see you again, I hope wherever you end up, you are happy.”
Valek and Francis grabbed hands for the last time as they continued to run, before Francis disappeared around a grand corridor that led to a large staircase, and up to what would be Vladislov’s quarters.
“It’s just you and me now.” Lusian and Valek bumped fists as they raced onward through the palace.
Valek inhaled and quickly turned his head to the left, to the sound of distant organ music playing. “The ceremony is starting.” Valek felt the anxiety crawling under his skin. “Godspeed, Lusian,” he said, before skidding on his heels to stop, and racing faster than the mortal eye could see in a different direction.
He could hear the conversation and laughter of somewhere between two and three hundred of the Regime’s most esteemed guests. This was it. He closed his eyes and inhaled again, pushing his body faster and faster, despite the raging pain of the coming sun.
When Francis finally got to the top of the tower and saw Vladislov’s door, he sucked in a free, sweet breath that burned in his lungs before heading straight into the wood, splintering it all over the room. Sure enough, Vladislov was just on the other side in his fine robes. He turned to see Francis standing there and smiled.
“Ah, my old friend. It has been ages,” Vladislov crooned. “How are you?”
“I don’t have time, Vlad. I have to kill you and be done with it.”
“You know, despite all of this time, I have never forgotten your little pet you sent me. Valek, is it?” He stroked his beard with his mechanical hand.
“Valek is on his way to kill the only heir to your throne.”
“Ah. I wish him well then. I hope he has better luck this time.” Vladislov chuckled and waved his hand. Dawn, which had begun ascending just outside his window, seemed to implode back under the horizon, buying Valek a little more time. Francis breathed a little. “We could have ruled both the light and the dark until you left, Francis. But as you can see, I’ve grown old, and you’ve fallen in love with someone else. Do you want darkness, really? Because I can give that to you.” He swept his hand through the air again, making all of the candle flames around the room flicker out. The strands of smoke slowly circled and entwined together as Francis watched in thoughtful wonder. They gathered into one, massive clump, creating three, beastly, dragon-like heads that snarled and chomped near his face, blowing his silver curls back. The chill that formed in the chamber was enough to send a chill even up a Vampire’s spine. He shuddered.
“I can trap you in the darkness forever, Francis! You should have listened to me! You should have remained human! Remained in the light with me! We would have ruled together,” Vladislov cried. “But instead, you chose the darkness. You wanted to change. You made that decision the night you got sick and drank from a Vampire. You panicked, you coward!” His bony hand swiped through the dark room again, sending glass bottles from shelves smashing across the wooden floorboards.
“You cast me out, Vladislov. You condemned me! If you truly wanted me as your companion, you wouldn’t have done that. No matter what I was.”
One of the dragonheads reared back, a large roar tearing through the room, down the hall. The thing lurched forward, striking Francis in the chest before traveling straight through him and out. The stone walls around them began to shake and crumble.
“What is the matter? Too much darkness for you to handle?” Vladislov laughed.
A black film began to stretch out from under Francis’ clothes, over the white skin on his arms and face. The new skin wrapped itself under his hairline, in his ears and around his neck, until he was completely transformed.
“What is this?” Francis blanched, examining his hand.
“You are what you fight for. You are darkness itself. You are death. Whatever you touch now will die like the death you now embody. There will be no light where you go. There will be no happiness. You will live as I have for the past several decades. Alone.”
Francis furiously lunged at Vladislov’s throat, his fangs bared. They penetrated the flesh there and tore out the jugular, spitting it to the ground.
A frozen, shocked expression was eternally painted on the aged Wizard’s dead face as he dropped to his bony knees and fell face-first to the floor, smashing into a million glassy pieces before disappearing altogether.
Francis turned then, to examine himself in a dusty, full-length mirror against the wall. His eyes were no longer eyes, but orbs of self-emitting light. And his skin was as pure black as it could possibly be. Only his white hair kept its original color. No longer a Vampire, or anything else he had ever recognized. But Vladislov was dead, and once again, the sun had begun its ascension in the East, and Valek was running out of time. Francis flew out of the room, a new shadowy mist stringing behind him as he went.