The Slidecrown Sundering
Cross the Water
Prelude to Alliance
(Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3)
The leader was far more robustly built than its kin, both taller and brawnier, though not so much as the airborne variety. And yet… there was something wrong with it, she could sense. It also had a severed human hand nailed into its skull, but the apparently-fatal head wound wasn’t the source of the wrongness she felt.
She couldn’t figure it out, at first, but then the visions struck. These were different from what she was accustomed to, though. As she watched, they flickered. One moment, this lumbering thing led its pack on wild, bloody rampages. The next, a well-muscled young woman with a magnolia hairpin stalked through the undergrowth with her band of loyal, faithful warriors at her back.
The enlightened watched for several seconds, enraptured by the scenes playing out before her, until something finally clicked, and she realised just what sort of terror she was standing before. A vampire. And not just any vampire, but a truly insane one. A creature whose envy of the living and abject self-loathing caused it to dream up a fantasy in which it was a valiant hero to its people, whilst in reality, all the tragic souls drawn into its shared delusion were gradually twisted into inhuman abominations, even as they slowly starved to death.
She fought to suppress a shudder. This thing and its brood were the antithesis of all she was and sought to be. Whilst this undead horror brought its victims low with the crude transformation its madness inflicted upon them, Our Burning Saviour blessed those with promise, allowing the deserving to rise above their former stations, to become superhuman, better than they could ever have become alone.
She badly wanted to slay this misbegotten beast out of hand. And yet… it fought the Father of Plagues. Looking back further into its past, she saw that it despised him every bit as much as she did. As loathe as she was to admit it, she could see that as long as it was properly handled, there was virtually no chance this thing would turn on them. Play along with its delusion and the abhorrant vampire would gladly do the templars’ bidding.
And apparently, at such close range as this, her visions allowed her to peer into not only its actual history, but also the version of that history that it perceived, in its absurd daydream. Thanks to the blessings of Our Burning Saviour, rather than the deranged creature being nigh-impossible to reason with, as most others would have found it, she realised that for her, this would be a trivial matter.
Bowing deeply, she said, “It is an honour to meet you, noble warriors. I speak for my Aviarch, Escarosht the Adamant, who seeks allies in his unremitting war against the vile forces of decay.”
The vampire rose to its full height then, its warped, bestial face leering at her — though that horrific visage was briefly overlaid with an image of the tanned youth, smiling broadly — then the creature replied in a harsh, guttural tone, “The honour is all mine. It is a great pleasure to finally cross paths with folk of like minds, who seek as we do to drive out the blight that encroaches upon these fair lands. Since our arrival here, it has been our hope that the songs of our angels would draw others of stout heart & valiant spirit to our side, that we might stand as one against the rotbringers.”
At the mention of angels, the enlightened glanced up again, at the ungainly horrors that beat at the sky with twisted wings. But this time, superimposed upon that awful reality, she caught glimpses of those ugly monsters as the vampire saw them; as beautiful, petal-wreathed beings, whose bodies were larger than any ordinary human’s, yet otherwise flawlessly proportioned, sunkissed and rippling with muscle.
——
Eloxochitl smiled as the gold-armoured envoy stared up at the angels, the awe clearly apparent on her features, despite the beak-like helm which partially occluded her face. It was clear from that helm — and from other parts of her armour, where intricate feather motifs were engraved — that the emissary’s people had a great fondness for birds, perhaps even a reverence for them.
Therefore, it came as no surprise to the chieftess that the other woman would be awestruck by beings who could soar gracefully through the skies upon wings of their own; without having to resort to external devices to enable them to do so, such as that gilded disc the woman rode.
Of course, that did not mean Eloxochitl was dismissive of the stranger’s powers. Surely, she was not the match of an angel, but if that was the standard they set for their allies, none would ever measure up. When more reasonably compared to her fellow hunter-warriors, Eloxochitl could see that the emissary was in a different class entirely. While she was eminently proud of her people, she could not deny that they were technologically & magically primitive by comparison to the heavily armoured woman before her.
Whilst her folk had only a few pieces of crudely-fashioned gold jewellery each, and no armour to speak of, the emissary wore an entire suit of gilded plate — delicately embossed with patterns reminiscent of feathers and flames — along with matching weapons, whilst the Yektiktlani wielded only simple, obsidian-tipped spears and knives. Most notably of all, though, was that disc. She could not even imagine the complexity of enchantments which must be required to construct such a wonder.
It was fortunate indeed that these folk seemed as keen to find allies as her own were, for she was sure that they would be terrible foes to face upon the battlefield. Eloxochitl fought to keep her nerves in check as the envoy at last looked away from the choir above and once again met her eyes. These negotiations may not be easy, but she knew that she must do whatever she possibly could to get these strangers on their side; to make enemies of them could be devastating for her people.
