Mortality: The Story of Mortanius
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Chapter Two
Mortanius was woken up early the following morning and led, still sleepy and bleary-eyed, into an adjoining chamber where half a dozen vampires were waiting for him. He realized that it was actually an inner courtyard, as there was no roof above him and he could see the stars above. Four large torches burned in the corners, spreading flickering orange light across the vampires’ sharp features.
Mortanius tensed up, suddenly afraid. He hesitated, but one of the vampires urged him forward into the center of the area with a steady grip on his arm.
“Do not be afraid,” a female voice said, and Mortanius turned to see who it was. He was strangely relieved to see another human in the courtyard, standing to the side. She was tall and thin, with pale skin and long blonde hair tied behind her head. She was dressed in a dark violet cloak and her hands were hidden within the flowing sleeves.
“Who are you?” Mortanius managed to ask.
“My name is Lora,” the woman said. “I’ll speak to you again later.”
“Quiet,” a vampire commanded. He stood before Mortanius, arms crossed, a glittering copper and blue robe hanging from his broad frame, tied at the waist. His skin was a darker shade of blue than some of the others, and he had a long braid of silver hair over one shoulder. There was a vampiric rune on the front of his robe.
“What’s going on?” Mortanius asked, looking up, unable to keep his voice from trembling slightly. Part of him, a very small part, wanted to act brave in front of the vampires, as if they might kill him if he showed any weakness. They believed that being a Guardian for the Pillars was some kind of honor, and maybe they felt it would not do to have a human coward in such a sacred position. But he was only a child, they must understand that, even if they didn’t have children of their own. He was a child and he was afraid. Surely they’d forgive him for that.
They stood him on a small white section of marble in the middle of the courtyard and the vampire with silver hair pulled out a piece of black fabric from somewhere behind him. Another vampire removed Mortanius’s dirty woolen tunic and left him standing there in only his grass-stained deerskin trousers.
“What is your name?” the vampire asked, his voice deep and commanding.
“Mortanius.”
“And what Pillar do you serve?”
Mortanius felt the eyes of the vampires upon him. He was terrified by them at some basic level, though they had never actually harmed him or even threatened to, but the strangeness of this ceremony, if that’s what it was, calmed his nerves. They had made him touch the Pillar last night, but this must be the formal declaration of his new role.
“They told me it was the Pillar of Death,” he said uncertainly, not liking the sound of it.
But the vampire nodded and the barest flash of a smile appeared on his face. He took the black fabric and unfolded it, showing that it was a sleeveless shirt with a vampiric rune stitched in gray on the front, like the vampire’s robe. The rune on the shirt was different though; two vertical lines close together, one longer than the other and curved inward, intersected by a vertical line.
The vampire slid the shirt over Mortanius’s head and helped him get his skinny arms through the holes.
“This is your symbol,” the vampire said, pointing to the rune. “You are one with the Pillar now. You are the physical embodiment of its power and its strength, and as such, your health runs parallel to the health of the Pillar. When one is strong, both are strong. When one is weak, both are weak. And the health of the Pillars is reflected in the health of the land itself. Bear this in mind.”
“I don’t know what any of this means,” Mortanius said.
“That’s because you are human. In time you will understand. When you are truly one of us, then you will understand.”
Mortanius didn’t have time to ask what he meant before he was whisked out of the courtyard, through the building, and out into the field heading back toward the Pillars. The sky was just turning blue-gray with the coming dawn. The horizon was tinged with orange. The vampires led him to the Pillars and directed him to the Pillar of Death. He expected to see charred hand prints on the front of it, but there was only pure white marble with a black stripe about twenty feet up in the air.
“Put your hands on the Pillar,” the silver-haired vampire said.
Mortanius shook his head. “But it hurts when I touch it.”
“It will not hurt this time. Only the first. This time you will begin to feel the power that you now possess. Now put your hands upon it.”
Mortanius reached out tentatively and touched the Pillar with just his fingertips. When he felt nothing but cool marble, slightly damp with the dew, he pressed his palms against it. He still felt nothing.
But gradually, he felt his vision distort, as if someone had placed tinted glass in front of his eyes. When he looked at the vampires, he could see something surrounding them, like a very fine mist, or maybe it was a shadow. He squinted and it seemed to clarify in front of him. Through their skin, he could see something glowing, and somehow he knew that he was seeing their life force, their soul. Shocked, he looked down at his own hands and almost cried out.
His skin looked pale, and under the surface, he could see his bones as if they shined through the skin. His whole vision seemed to burn red. He gazed out across the field beyond the Pillars and saw the grass turn brown and crumble to dust. The trees beyond lost their leaves and rotted in his gaze. And in the air, floating everywhere, he could see glimmering half-human shapes turning and wandering as if blown by the breeze.
This is the power of Death, he thought. I can see spirits. I can see things grow old and die.
He covered his eyes and collapsed to his knees, tears streaking down his face. He didn’t want this power, he could not handle it. The power to see death in everything was no power at all, it was a torture.
“I don’t want it,” he whimpered. “I don’t want this, please make it go away. Just make it go away.”
He felt a vampire holding him, lifting him back to his feet. And a voice in his ear, saying, “You can control your powers. You must concentrate on what you want to see. You have been granted a terrible gift, it is true. Guardianship of the Pillar of Death is not something to be envied. Your fear at this power is only proof that you are worthy to possess it.”
“But ... but I don’t want to see things die,” Mortanius cried, still covering his eyes. When they were closed, he saw nothing. Nothing was better than nothing but death.
“The Pillar grants its Guardian great powers, but with those powers must come an understanding. To be the Death Guardian, you must witness death in all its terror and glory. You must learn the truth about death in all its forms, you must embrace your knowledge without fear. You must control your perception of it.”
The vampire pulled his hands away and Mortanius opened his eyes. Blurred by tears, he could see the grass and trees once more, now brightened as dawn began to stretch across the sky. The spirits hovered in the air all around, and he felt as if they could see him and knew that he could see them as well. The vampires nearby seemed to glow, their spirits visible inside their bodies, their skin changing from blue to gray and back again.
He didn’t want to see death, and by an act of will, the grass turned green once more and grew right before his eyes. The trees grew tall again and blossomed with leaves. The spirits faded into nothingness. His world returned to normal.
“I can see now,” Mortanius whispered, wiping his face with the back of his hand. “But I don’t ever want to see that again.”
“That is good. It is a heavy burden you now bear, but no more heavy than that of the other Guardians around you. Each of the Pillars gives knowledge, and even the most harmless subject can become terrible if too much is known about it.”
“But I don’t want to learn about death. Can’t I be the Guardian of one of the other Pillars?”
“You were chosen. There is nothing you can do about it.” For a moment, the vampire seemed to be truly saddened. “I am sorry for you. I do not believe humans are meant to be Guardians.”
“Then why did your Pillars call me?” Mortanius asked, fear and anger seeping into his voice. First the burning pain when he touched the Pillar, now the visions of death and ghosts. Guarding the Pillar was no honor, it was like a curse. He remembered his talk with the other vampire last night and suddenly realized clearly why the last Guardian of Death had taken his own life. He broke out in a cold sweat at the thought of having to live with this nightmare the rest of his life. Would he wind up doing the same?
“Our race is dying out,” the vampire leader said. “We cannot bring children into the world. Surely the humans know this.”
“Yes,” Mortanius said. “I knew that.”
The vampire knelt down beside Mortanius and set his strong hands on Mortanius’s weak shoulders. He looked right into Mortanius’s eyes. “The Pillars must be maintained at all costs. If that means that humans are called to serve as Guardians, then so be it. The very fate of the world rests in the strength of the Pillars. When you become one of us, you will understand better. For now, you must believe us and trust in the Pillars.”
Mortanius looked upward and saw that dawn had broken. The sky was now a clear blue-gray, growing brighter by the minute. The sun was sneaking over the horizon, its light touching the tips of the Pillars. He shivered even though it was not cold outside.
The vampire let go of his shoulders and stood up, looking around at the gathering of vampires around him. “Varash will be missed, but I believe that the Pillars have chosen wisely. I think Mortanius will become a fine Guardian in time.” He looked down, smiled crookedly, and touched Mortanius’s head before walking off. Mortanius stood nervously as the vampires either walked off or jumped into the air and soared away. After a minute, only a few vampires remained, and two humans who walked over to him. One of them was Lora, the woman in the purple cloak, and the other was a man wearing a red tunic over a dark blue shirt and trousers. A weapon hung from each hip; a long sword from his left and a mace from his right. Mortanius noticed that both of them had a vampiric runes stitched into their clothes, just as he now did.
“Come,” Lora said softly. She had the hood of the cloak up around her head, covering her face in shadow. “They told us to take care of you for now. They don’t deal with humans very often, and children almost never.”
Mortanius wrung his hands and glanced at the Pillar as he stepped away from it, relieved at doing so. Lora held out her hand, but Mortanius didn’t take it. He was ten years old, old enough to tend his family’s garden by himself, and was not about to take a woman’s hand like a baby.
“My name is Romanen,” the man said, hands resting casually on the handles of his two weapons. “I’m a Guardian as well. The Pillar of Conflict.”
“And I’m the Guardian of Mind,” Lora said as they walked to the building across the field. “We are the only other human Guardians. The other seven are vampires. I was the first human Guardian.”
“I don’t want to be a Guardian,” Mortanius said, crossing his arms defensively, feeling free to talk in front of other humans. “I just want to go home.”
“Give it a few days,” Romanen said, smiling. “Let it sink in and then make up your mind. The first days are the worst, I promise you.”
“You can go home if you want,” Lora said. “Just stay here a few days until you feel comfortable with the knowledge the Pillar granted you. It will give us time to teach you a little bit about the Pillars and the vampires as well. The sun is almost up now. The day has just started, Mortanius.”
As they entered the building, Mortanius noticed that Romanen paused at the doorway and smiled as the sun peaked over the mountains. Then he ducked his head inside and followed them down the hallway.
“Some of the vampires are friendly to us,” Lora said, lowering her hood. “But then again, some are not. Some of them resent the fact that we were chosen by the Pillars, and some just think that we’re stupid animals. I’m sure you know what most humans think about vampires, so I guess I cannot blame them for disliking us as well.”
Mortanius certainly did know what most people thought. He had overheard his own father calling them names like “monster“ and “demon.” Vampires were an old race, though. Much older than humans. They could live almost forever, but they couldn’t have children. Mortanius didn’t know why. If they couldn’t have children, then how did they come to be in the first place? Hadn’t they been born themselves?
And he knew the worst thing as well. All humans knew it, because they were most frequently the victims of it. Vampires needed to drink blood to survive. Again, Mortanius didn’t understand why. If vampires were so much older than humans, what blood did the vampires drink before humans were around? Did they drink their own blood? He couldn’t see how that was possible. Many people believed that vampires drank the blood of humans because they enjoyed it, not because they needed it, but Mortanius didn’t know what to make of that. Since his abduction, none of the vampires had made a move to bite him. And if he was now a Guardian like some of them were, didn’t that make him an equal? He didn’t want any vampires drinking his blood, even if they did need it to survive.
“I don’t think that vampire with the silver hair liked me very much,” Mortanius said. “He didn’t look very happy about me being a Guardian.”
“That was Aleph,” Lora said. “He’s the Guardian of Balance. I don’t think he hates humans, although sometimes he’s short with us. He was close to Varash, the last Guardian of Death, so if he doesn’t like you, it’s because you replaced a friend of his. It’s nothing personal.”
“What are the other Pillars? Yesterday a vampire told me there are nine of them.”
“Yes, there are nine Pillars. They are Balance, Nature, Dimension, Energy, States, Time, Mind, Conflict, and Death.”
“But there are ten Guardians, right?”
Lora smiled. “Yes, there’s a tenth Guardian. I wonder who you were talking to last night.”
“He said his name was Janos.”
Romanen spoke up. “Some think he’s the wisest of them all. If any of the vampires is a friend to the human race, it’s him.”
“Janos is very kind,” Lora agreed hesitantly.
“Were all the Guardians here today?” Mortanius asked, curious. “I didn’t see many others with these runes on their clothing.”
“Some were here today, but not all. I suspect that the ones who weren’t here today will come when the next Guardian is found.”
“What do you mean?”
“Sadly, Varash was not the only Guardian to die recently,” Romanen said. “The Guardian of Time died several years ago as well.”
“Years? Why hasn’t a new Guardian been found already?”
“It takes years for new Guardians to be discovered,” Lora explained. “Varash, your predecessor, died ten years ago.”
Mortanius did not miss the significance of the time. “I just turned ten years old a little while ago.”
“Yes,” Lora said, nodding. “When a Guardian dies, the guardianship passes onto someone born around the same time.”
They entered a room lit with glowing tapers. The scent of wax and incense was heavy in the air, but at least Mortanius could not smell blood, which was so noticeable everywhere else. There was a wooden table in the room with several chairs, and a shelf on one wall with some bound books and rolled sheets of parchment tied with ribbons.
“The one thing you must understand is that you are a Guardian for the rest of your life,” Lora said as Mortanius sat down. “Although there is nothing keeping you here physically, you are always spiritually bound to the Pillars. Your health and the health of the Pillar are intertwined, like Aleph told you. This is a bond that can only be broken by death.”
Romanen leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, smiling as if at some personal joke. “What Lora means is that your life is still your own. The vampires don’t own you, or anything like that. After you’ve stayed here for a few days and learned what your new role means, you can return to your parents. You never have to come to the Pillars again if you don’t want to.”
“Really?”
“Certainly. One of the Guardians lives up in the mountains. I’ve only seen him twice in my life.”
“His name is Coruard,” Lora said. “He’s the Guardian of Nature. He’s so deeply enthralled with his connection with Nature that he chooses to live alone in the deep wilderness.”
“But I don’t have to stay here? I can live wherever I want?”
“Of course you can,” Lora said. “The Guardians are a very loose group. Vampires are solitary, for the most part, so they allow us the same freedom.”
“Can I do whatever I want?” Mortanius asked. “I mean, can I have a farm like my parents? And find a wife and have children? Can I just live like a normal person?”
Romanen said nothing, he only pursed his lips and looked at Lora, who sighed and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, there’s nothing stopping you from having a farm if you want one. And if you want to marry and have children when you come of age, you can do that as well. But things are going to change when you grow older. Something that I think the vampires didn’t tell you.”
Mortanius waited expectantly, but neither Lora or Romanen said anything. Vaguely, he remembered that Aleph had said “when you become one of us“ more than once. He tensed up and looked desperately from Romanen to Lora and back.
Lora bared her teeth in a twisted parody of a smile and exposed long, sharpened incisors. Mortanius realized why she had been wearing a hooded cloak outside, and why her skin seemed so pale.
“When you become an adult,” Romanen said, his voice flat and sounding very far away, “they bite you and turn you into a half-breed.”
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