The Dawn of Malice
Chapter 5

Dawn’s Light

He had died. How could he possibly be alive now?

Caerus pushed himself up from the cot. He blinked a few times to get his eyes adjusted to the dimness of the room. Everything was a blur of dark shadows and faded edges. Vision slowly crept up to him until he could finally see. When his eyes cleared, he was in complete shock. He was in his room.

“Another bad dream…” Caerus said to himself as his eyes wandered across the room.

The room was as it should be. His dresser leaned on the opposite wall and a small stool stood next to it. Dust motes littered the air, passing in and out of the sliver of light from the window. The light caught his attention immediately. It wasn’t nearly as bright as sunlight. So, Caerus swung his legs to the side and stood up slowly. And he walked gently toward the window.

Unlatching the slim metal lock, he pushed the rickety shutters open. All was quiet. Not a single person was out on the streets. He stared out toward the walls. A cluster of lights were placed just outside the city walls. Caerus ignored these lights, thinking they were merely traveling merchants who’d failed to get in before the gates closed. Caerus looked to his right, the clock tower, peeking out of tiled roofs and chimneys, indicated the time. It was half past midnight.

“I see you’re finally awake?”

Turning with a slight tremor, Caerus looked toward the voice. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw a shadowy figure seated diagonally from him. The once-empty stool is now occupied by a middle-aged man.

“W-w-who are you?!” Caerus stuttered as he backed away toward the wall. “How’d you get into my room without my notice?”

The man sat with one leg over the other. A book bound in leather, clasped in his slender fingers. Caerus immediately noticed the man’s eyes, which focused intently on the book in his hand all within the dimly lit room. Caerus couldn’t see his face but wondered how he could read in the darkness.

“Oh. I have my ways – and many other means – But it would seem the lock on your door is of mundane build. I suggest you change it.” The man said with his eyes still focused on his book. “Do you still wish for me to introduce myself?” The man spoke as he uncrossed his legs. He raised his head, and two beady red eyes stared back at Caerus.

“I rather love this chapter of the book and wish not to stop.”

Caerus looked at him with primal fear. He felt the fear of death. After a moment’s silence, the man cocked his head to the side. Eyes still as red as blood.

“Ah. Silence, all right.” He slapped the book shut. The sound reverberated throughout the room. A shiver ran down Caerus’s spine. From the way this man handled himself, Caerus knew it would be difficult to escape. Caerus played with the thought of jumping out the window. But he quickly banished the thought. He was on the third story of the tenement. Nothing but hard pavement would break his fall. He was trapped.

There was harm in playing along with the mysterious man. One wrong move and Caerus could lose his life – or so he thought. He watched, with a mortified look on his face, as the man’s eyes glowed in the dark. His crimson pupils sent chills up and down his spine. Caerus felt his leg twitching, but he could do nothing to stop himself.

“Please do introduce yourself. But before you introduce yourself, do tell me stranger, what happened to me?” Caerus found himself saying.

“Tut-tut. You don’t remember?” The man raised an eyebrow in question. In a mere second, the glow of his crimson eyes was now gone, replaced by grey and observant ones. The moon’s faint light gleamed on the man’s face. Without the oppressing glow of his crimson eyes, his face was now mostly revealed. Caerus could tell he wasn’t as old as he had initially thought.

“Ah well. We can talk about that later.” The man spoke as he stood, slowly clasping his hands together behind him. He took steps forward in a graceful manner. He paused when he reached the window – as if thinking carefully – whether he should step into the light or not. Shrugging, he took another step forward.

Standing tall and regal in his pressed business suit, he let out a sigh. His aged black hair contained strands of silver. He looked at Caerus. He saw the look of fright on the young man’s face and a glimmer of amusement flashed in the older gentleman’s eyes.

“It would seem I have frightened the poor boy to muteness.” The man mused. He turned and walked a few paces toward the door. Then he stopped, as if recalling something.

“You say your name is Caerus? You are the son of Thomas and Linda, are you not?” He said as he turned toward Caerus with an inquisitive stare, observing him.

“Yes… But how –”

“Ah. I was afraid I’d mistaken you for someone else.” The man replied, cutting Caerus short. He waved a hand in the air. “I’ve known of your presence since long before I came to this city, boy. If I had mistaken you, then all my efforts were for naught. I simply thought you would be… well, more.” Caerus shuffled his feet, feeling increasingly uneasy and at the same time insulted. The man returned to his walk toward the door. He closed the short distance in three steps.

“Who–?” Caerus began.

“My name,” the man said cutting Caerus’s words. “–is Lucian. And as I can tell, you are starting to overthink things.” He then turned toward Caerus, another look of amusement on his face. “And yes, as you can see, I am a Laresian.”

Caerus’ face could not have been more surprised. A Laresian was a rare sight in this part of the world. A million thoughts ran through his mind.

“I know your mind is now flooding with thoughts but try to bear with me. Shall we begin with how I entered the room? The knowledge may do well to calm you. Then I’ll tell you what happened to you.” The man looked at Caerus, a hint of a smile on his pale lips. At that second Caerus wondered if this man – this Lucian – read his thoughts. Caerus blankly nodded, straining to keep his thoughts in check.

“Well… The lock on your door is very basic. The way to unlock the said lock is to use a key. A key with grooves etched to match the locking mechanisms inside. All I needed was a bit of mire wood and ample force.” Lucian gave a side glance toward the door and gave a wry smile toward the dumbfounded Caerus. Lucian stood as if waiting for a clever retort.

“Mire wood is just a legend told by thieves. There is no such thing as wood soft like putty that hardens on command. Those are stories told near festival fires.” Caerus said, shaking his head. “Tell me the truth… Lucian.”

Lucian let out a bored sigh, obviously disappointed at the young man’s lack of humor. “What do you suppose –” Lucian procured something from his coat pocket. “– is this then?”

A block of wood the color and texture of dark leather sat on the man’s palm. With his other hand he pricked his point finger with the sharpened nail of his thumb, and then let a droplet of blood fall onto the wood. In a slow hesitant manner, the wood began to move. Tiny tendrils of wood started squirming on his palm. The wood began forming into a creature with eight limbs and a round bulbous head. Caerus stared at Lucian’s open palm, a look of shock on his face. But most prominent of all was his explicit curiosity.

“What is that creature?”

“It is called an octopus, the plural is octopi. It is a creature of the great depths of the ocean.” Lucian bounced the sculpture in his hand, and it reformed into a block of wood. “It was quite a haggle to get this small block you know,” Lucian replied as he pocketed the small block of wood. “I used this mire wood to open the door after I recovered your corpse.”

“Corpse?!” Caerus jerked his head upward in surprise. “Wait… You mean it wasn’t a dream?”

“Boy, I wish it were. You put me into quite the trouble of dragging your body here.”

“You dragged me…” Caerus said his head slowly looking down at his feet. Then he jerked his head upward his eyes wide in realization. “Wait! Where is Elaine –?”

“All good things come in good time.” Lucian cut him off again as he extended his arm toward Caerus with his index finger swaying from side to side. “Let me finish.” There was an awkward silence as Lucian tapped his foot on the floor. “I can now have faith that you will not intrude on my story?” Lucian looked at Caerus, one eyebrow raised.

“Though it seems to be quite far from a starting point to begin, I shall start with my origins.” Lucian looked around the room, meticulously carving every detail of the room in his head. “You have quite the charming room if I might say. It reminds me of my fondest memories.” Lucian indicated at the ceiling pointing toward a lowly cobweb. “Though this room is much cleaner than the one I had awakened to.” Lucian chuckled before continuing. “I know nothing about who I am. Strange isn’t it? I remember awakening into a room like this one – perhaps just as you have – and wondering why I was there. It was so… surreal.”

Lucian followed Caerus with his gaze. He watched as the young man stumbled backward, his back now pressed on the wall.

Lucian smiled as he tapped at his temple. “The term for my illness is amnesia.” Lucian twisted his hand in the air nonchalantly before he placed it behind his back. “I remember only some mundane things like, my age, my race, my favorite foods, and the most basic of needs.” There was a deathly silence between the two men. Caerus remained standing. His eyes focused on the floor.

“You have no questions? A violent reaction, perhaps?” Lucian prompted. Caerus raised his head. The man had somehow reseated himself on his stool. Caerus looked at him with confusion.

“Why should I even listen to you?” Caerus voiced his thoughts. He slowly raised his head. His courage gained momentum, propelling him to action. Caerus stood a little bit straighter. “Why should I trust a man who I had just met?” Caerus now glowered at Lucian, raising his frustrated voice as he took a step forward. His left eye twitched as he regained composure. He was finally getting over his fear and surprise.

“The answer to that is simple,” Lucian returned Caerus’s glare as he stood. Suddenly Caerus’s resolve wilted, and fear took its place. “– because you don’t have a choice.”

Caerus nearly stumbled as he backed away from the enraged Lucian. His eyes again glowed red. Silence had once again enveloped the room. Caerus stared at the floor, overwhelmed with confusion and self-loathing.

“You know… I never did know who I truly am.” Lucian muttered, seemingly calm again. “It’s hard to trust a man without a name. I know. But I’m telling you this because I want you to trust me… Although what I’m saying sounds truly counterintuitive, doesn’t it?”

Caerus looked up. His confused face became even more twisted with confusion. “I thought your name was Lucian?”

Lucian chuckled at the remark. “When I awoke in that cabin, only one man was there. Erasmus Kaledin, the man who named me and apparently saved my life. And to repay my debt to him, I promised to listen to his commands. One of which was to retrieve you when the time was right.” He finished speaking while taking a cigarette from his coat pocket. “At least until the time was right for him. I’ll take you to Verdania to meet him.” After lighting his cigarette with a match, he continued. “But there is only one requirement. You needed to die.” Lucian waited for Caerus to react. When nothing came Lucian looked toward the young man.

Caerus had grown pale.

“So, I was killed during the raid…” Caerus spoke after a long, troubling silence, a sense of recognition finally coming into mind.

“You were there!” Caerus took a step forward his voice shaking but firm. “You were the voice that woke me up! You watched me die!” His voice grew louder as he took yet another step.

“You want to have a go at me, boy?” Lucian grinned.

“You watched me suffer!” Caerus closed the distance between the two of them. Lucian kept his eyes focused on Caerus, an inexorable look on his face.

“You!”

Caerus poked Lucian in the chest. The man didn’t even flinch. Lucian took a long drag from his cigarette and exhaled at Caerus’s face. Coughing and squinting through teary eyes, Caerus took a few steps back. When the smoke cleared, Lucian was nowhere to be found.

“Now, then, shall we start?” Lucian’s voice echoed throughout the dimly lit and smoky room. Lucian’s entire presence was erased from existence. Caerus was left in a stupor. Everything that had happened felt like an illusion. Caerus thought he was losing his mind, but he quickly recovered. He was faced with a Laresian; he should at least be unperturbed by a slight disappearance.

As soon as Caerus’s resolve solidified it quickly went away as a fist came flying toward him. Lucian had clung to the ceiling and was now right in front of him, his closed fists mere inches away from Caerus’s face. Caerus didn’t want to quit, he grabbed at Lucian’s fist, but the older man pulled his hand back. Caerus was still under the impression that he was dreaming. But this delusion was easily broken by Lucian’s words.

“I saved your life, boy. Check yourself. Do you still have any wounds?”

At Lucian’s prompting, Caerus pulled up his trousers. There were no burn marks. Next, he pulled up his shirt and grew pale at the sight. A round lump of a scar was in the middle of his chest. A scar most likely brought by the arrow. Panicked, Caerus pulled his leg upward, balancing on one leg. He stared at the sole of his foot. Nothing was there, not even a scratch.

“Why is the scar only near my chest?” Caerus thought aloud.

“It was the deepest and most complicated wound. I did the best I could to spare your life though. Would you rather have died?” Lucian said sarcastically.

“Then I wasn’t dreaming. Everything that happened to me was real?”

“Yes, you weren’t dreaming,” Lucian replied rolling his eyes.

“Then what of Elaine? Is she safe?” Caerus asked, heart pounding at the thought of Elaine in any danger.

“You have nothing to worry about. She’s relatively safe.”

“Relatively?!”

“Calm yourself. Her heart is just broken. It’s been three days since her beloved died, after all.”

“What…? Three days?!” Caerus whipped his arms to his side. “Is that how long I’ve been dead?!” His voice quivered, clearly agitated by Lucian’s declaration.

“No. That is how long you’ve been unconscious, boy.”

“What happened to me?” Caerus slammed onto the wall, balancing his weight. All pretenses of bravery fell. He crossed his arms above his chest. They had begun to shake.

“Three days prior to your resurrection. An informant of mine happened to hear of the oncoming attack. The reason was the capture of a half-blood. The origin of which is unknown to me. But I had my speculations that it was you.”

Caerus felt dizzy. He used his free hand to feel the wall behind him. Balancing on his shaking arm, He slowly lowered himself onto the floor. Lucian was kind enough to stop talking as he sat himself. Then Lucian began to speak again.

“I witnessed your death on the rooftops directly facing the alley you had hidden in. The arrow that struck you had barely missed the heart. But it had pierced one of your arteries and tunneled through your lungs. The woman you were with had left you soon after. And I was beside you as soon as she left and began the arduous job of reviving you. Luckily, I was near you, seeing as I am a skilled healer, had I not then you wouldn’t have survived.” Lucian paused. Caerus remained seated.

“Upon relocation, your body had gone cold, and pupils refused to dilate. At that precise moment, I rekindled your supply of Lifeblood.”

“Lifeblood? How do you mean ‘rekindled’?”

“You don’t even know what Lifeblood is?” Lucian sounded incredulous. “I thought you’d simply let yourself be known as a Laresian.”

“What are you saying? You’re making no sense, at all.”

“Take a look at yourself, young man,” Lucian said. Caerus felt the invisible man flick his hair downward. It was then that Caerus realized that his crimson-tinged hair was now black. Caerus pulled back in fright, hitting his head on the wall. With shaking hands, Caerus reached for his hair. Curling a strand of his hair on his finger, Caerus pulled quickly.

“What? How…? Why?!”

“You’ve never been able to hide your appearance?” Lucian suddenly appeared in front of Caerus. He looked at him incredulously. He leaned down toward Caerus, closely observing his frightened face.

“You’re an incognizant?!” Lucian pulled his head back in laughter.

“W-w-what?! What are you saying?” Caerus blurted out, thinking Lucian had just insulted him.

“No need to be offensive young man. An incognizant is a Laresian who is unaware of his abilities.” Lucian spoke as he stood straight and lent Caerus a hand. Caerus ignored him and stood on his own. Lucian simply shrugged and indicated for Caerus to sit on the cot. He followed wordlessly and sat. Lucian returned to his stool and dragged it closer to the cot. He sat again with one leg over the other.

“Have you ever wondered why you look absolutely different from everyone else?” Lucian spoke first, eyes eagerly observing Caerus’ reaction.

“When I was a child, yes, but now that I’m older I’ve never once thought about my appearance. All I cared about now is – or maybe was – my reputation.” Caerus clenched his fists into a ball. There was a knot in his stomach, and he felt nauseated. He was unconscious for three days.

“Hmm…” Caerus’s guest simply nodded as if in contemplation. “Do you know what Lifeblood is?”

“No.” Caerus simply shrugged and stared questioningly at Lucian.

“Lifeblood is energy that flows through the veins in your body. The most prominent sign of a Laresian bloodline is the eyes. Your pupils become blood red at a certain age, and with time will shed an eerie glow. Your hair will also have a reddish tinge to it. When Laresian children are young, they will be taught to suppress the lifeblood, causing their hair and eyes to have a more natural color. Those who were not taught are called incognizant. While those who choose to release Lifeblood continually are labeled as nationalistic zealots. You don’t believe me, do you?”

“I most certainly do not.”

Lucian let out a sigh and suddenly his hair turned crimson. Lucian’s grey wizen pupils began to glow a deep red. Caerus pulled back a bit at the sudden transformation. A gust of warm air emanated from Lucian as he stretched his arms upward. Then he returned his gaze to the now dumbfounded Caerus.

“Lifeblood works like water from a spigot.” Lucian began solemnly. “You need to control the amount of Lifeblood that is released by your body. What you see now is only a fraction of my power. The heat that you felt was the Lifeblood rushing through my veins.”

Lucian’s hair returned to its natural state. And as he spoke the glow of his eyes slowly faded to a dull red. Then after Lucian blinked a few times his eyes were back to normal.

“Each individual Laresian can control this naturally. But for a half-breed, it would take some training depending on his or her ability. That is why I temporarily cut off the Lifeblood from your body. It works as a safety precaution, on my behalf, and for yours. I wasn’t sure what to think of a Laresian who blatantly shows his bloodline.” Lucian indicated at Caerus’ hair. “But now I see that you were just a fool.”

Lucian stood quietly and looked around the room. He spotted a small cracked mirror on a wall and gently took it off and brought it to Caerus.

“Use this. See for yourself.” Lucian handed the mirror to Caerus, and he hesitantly accepted. Lucian remained standing as he watched – with delight – at the look on the young man’s face.

Caerus – with shaking hands – raised the mirror to his face. A man, a normal man, stared back at him. The man in the mirror had jet-black hair that cascaded down his forehead. He had eyes as grey as steel. Caerus felt surprised and in turn, the reflection of the mirror gave the same response.

“I’m human… how –?”

“Well, technically you always have been.” Lucian cut him off. He looked bemused by the reaction that Caerus had given. “But I think it’s best to teach you about this later.”

“I’m getting more and more confused.”

“Which you should be feeling, since, this is, after all, your first lesson on Lifeblood use.” Lucian shrugged as he sat back on his stool. “But we’ve drifted too far from our main concern.”

“Which is?” Caerus replied absent-mindedly, still staring at his reflection.

“The girl?” Lucian said, eyebrows raised.

“Elaine! That’s right. What happened to her?!” Caerus stood abruptly, his lower leg kicking the cot backward as he stood.

“As I said she is fine… only heartbroken. And I will not allow you to meet with her. Not until we’re sure that the attack wasn’t connected to you.”

“What do you mean I can’t see her? She needs me now more than ever!” Caerus grew frustrated but held in his anger. He needed an explanation. But he knew that if he’d spoken out of turn then he’d never get the information. Caerus reseated himself on the cot.

Lucian simply gave Caerus a grim expression. The expression was quick to dissipate. But it had proven to solidify the panicked thoughts of the young man. Caerus looked at him with anticipation, waiting for an explanation. When there was none, Caerus buried his head in his palms. A long, troubling silence followed.

“I believe it’s for the best that I tell you what happened in those three days since the attack,” Lucian spoke in a subdued voice. Caerus didn’t answer immediately. He only stared back at Lucian with tears welling up in his eyes. Lucian took a long drag from his cigarette. As the embers of his cigarette died, Lucian flicked the cigarette bud in the air and crushed it as soon as it landed near his foot.

“I’m not sure I’m ready to hear about what happened.” Caerus’s tears finally fell from his eyes. A clear line of sorrow ran down his cheeks. What little resolve he had had finally been broken through. Caerus’s shoulders twitched as he sobbed. Lucian gave a comforting smile and slowly made his way toward the cot. He sat down and placed a reassuring hand on Caerus’s shoulder.

“It’s not all that bad,” Lucian spoke with a gentle voice.

“How is this ‘not all that bad’?” Caerus replied after his last sob.

“I, for one, think it was quite heroic what you did. And it is rewarding to know that the one you protected is alive and well.”

“But wouldn’t it have been better if I was with her as well?” Caerus spoke as Lucian let go of his shoulder. Lucian let out a yawn and pulled a pocket watch from his coat. Caerus caught a glimpse of the time, and he realized that the sun was about to rise. Lucian pocketed the watch and let out a sigh.

“And if you lived,” Lucian began. “Then there is no telling what might happen to this city.” Lucian stood and made his way toward the window. Caerus watched the strange man. Again, silence entered the room as the two watched the light of dawn begin to envelop the world again.

“It’s time to be reborn, Caerus.”

Caerus let out a sigh. He had no choice but to accept this new reality. To anyone who knew him, he was dead, and there was nothing he could do about it. Lucian looked back at him watching worriedly. Caerus simply shrugged in reply.

“I give up, Lucian,” Caerus said. “There’s nothing I could do now. Just promise me you’ll keep Elaine safe.”

“Your request has been heard, Caerus,” Lucian replied. “But…”

“But?”

“Come here and see for yourself.”

Caerus ambled over to the window, his stride that was once full of youthful vigor now resembling the unsteady steps of an old man. As he approached the window’s edge, Lucian’s steady hand reached out, providing a supportive anchor for Caerus to lean on. A brief nod of appreciation passed between them, a silent acknowledgment of the assistance.

Leaning slightly out of the window, Caerus was met with a sight that tugged at the edges of his understanding. The sun had climbed above the western hills, casting its golden light across the land. Yet, in a perplexing twist, the distant city gates were still adorned with the flickering glow of torchlight.

“Are merchants still out at this time? They should have been let in as soon as the sun was up.” Caerus said as he turned toward Lucian, who stood by his side.

“Look closely, young man,” Lucian replied.

Caerus shifted his gaze once more to the dwindling torchlight, his eyes narrowing in an attempt to pierce through the enigmatic shroud of the hills. Alas, their secrets remained hidden, veiled by the imposing shadows that clung to the terrain. Determined, he redirected his attention to the city walls, their imposing stature standing tall and resolute.

Surveying the walls, Caerus noted the unmistakable signs of a fierce struggle. The upper reaches of the once-mighty fortifications bore scars of fire and battle, yet they defied all odds by maintaining their upright defiance.

As the sun continued its ascent, its warm rays gradually dispelled the lingering darkness, and Caerus’s vantage point revealed a sweeping expanse of plains unfurling toward the distant hills. The morning light painted a vivid canvas, and for a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation.

Sharpened wooden staves ran along the perimeter of tents. Trebuchets and catapults ran along the edges of a camp. Men in red uniforms marched along the edge of their makeshift bulwark. Caerus stood in wonder at the sight. In just three days, a new harbinger of death had arrived.

“How could this be?!” Caerus exclaimed as he leaned farther out the window. ‘This isn’t possible! What reason do they have to attack our city?’ Caerus thought in horrified wonder.

“I’m afraid I forgot to tell you something,” Lucian said. Caerus turned to him eyes wide in horror. For a moment, he had forgotten that the Laresian was beside him.

“It wasn’t a raid, my dear boy... It is a siege.”