Mortality: The Story of Mortanius

Chapter Thirty-One

“Mortanius! Old friend, how are you doing?” Moebius said energetically as he entered the front hallway, tapping the base of his staff against the floor. His hood was down, and his blue eyes were bright and welcoming.

Mortanius had not seen or heard from Moebius in well over a year, and the surprise on his face must have been evident, for Moebius laughed as he walked over to embrace him. “I know, I know, it’s been far too long. I apologize for that, but I’ve been so very busy. I’ve been utterly engrossed in my work. How have you been?”

Mortanius shrugged and gave him a smile. “I’ve been doing well. It’s good to see you again. You seem like you’re doing well too.”

“Oh, I’m doing fantastic,” Moebius chuckled. “We’ll have to catch up after the gathering. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“I assume you already know what the meeting is about?” Mortanius asked as they walked down the hallway to the main conference room.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Moebius said. “I didn’t call the meeting though. Malek is responsible for that. It concerns Sarafan activities, but we both thought that the entire Circle should be present.”

“Why is that?”

Moebius gave him one of his cryptic smiles. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

They entered the main conference room, where most of the other Guardians were already gathered, either seated at the table or standing around and talking to each other. A few servants darted around, trying to appear helpful. Palton stood by the windows, engaged in conversation with Kelredar, who looked bored. Rashard and Sirine, the two youngest Guardians, sat at the conference table, laughing at a shared joke.

Olantireth sat by himself, sipping a goblet of wine. Like Moebius, he had gone bald at a relatively young age. While Mortanius’s hair was still dark with only a trace of gray, Olantireth’s beard was completely white. Not one for small talk, he merely nodded in greeting as Mortanius and Moebius sat down at the table.

The only members of the Circle missing were Ellendra and Malek. Lately, Ellendra had resumed her normal friendship with Mortanius, abandoning her frustrations about his private experiments, although he fully expected her to start ignoring him again before too long. Such was the nature of their relationship. Mortanius had grown used to it, and in some ways he even enjoyed their time apart. It gave them personal space and a way to work out their disagreements without becoming actively hostile towards each other. And when they inevitably resumed their relationship, it felt new and fresh each time, as they got the chance to rediscover each other, both physically and emotionally.

Rashard and Sirine noticed that Moebius was there, and Rashard subtly gestured towards him and said something to Sirine.

Moebius leaned over and whispered, “What’s the young man’s name again?”

“Rashard,” Mortanius replied.

“Ah, yes,” Moebius said, sitting up straighter. A servant came by with a tray of drinks and Moebius politely waved her off. “I suppose I have been away from the Temple for too long. I barely know these young people.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t know Rashard that well either. We speak from time to time, but for the most part he works with Olantireth or Palton.”

Ellendra came into the room and Kelredar immediately walked over to her and took her hand. “My lady,” he said smoothly, “It’s always a pleasure to see you.” He bent over theatrically and planted a kiss on her hand.

“You’re too kind,” Ellendra said with a grin. She greeted the others and came around the table to where Moebius was sitting. “Welcome, Moebius. Did you have any trouble finding the Temple? You come here so infrequently.”

“I came with Malek,” Moebius replied, deadpan. “Thankfully, he knows how to get here.”

“You should have him bring you along more often. We’ve missed your shining personality.”

“And I’ve missed yours, dear.”

Ellendra let out a charming laugh and walked past Moebius, patting his bald head as she did so, but Moebius didn’t react to it. Mortanius leaned over the side of his chair as she walked by and said, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that Kelredar was flirting with you earlier.”

“Of course he was. There’s not a woman alive that he doesn’t flirt with.”

“I guess I don’t know any better, then.”

“You never do,” Ellendra said. She walked around the table and sat next to Sirine.

Moebius calmly folded his hands in his lap. “I see that she hasn’t changed at all.”

“No,” Mortanius sighed.

He was about to add another comment when a clatter of loud footsteps came from the hallway, and Malek stiffly entered the conference room, his fists clenched at his sides. Behind him came a half-dozen armed soldiers in gleaming multicolored armor. The Sarafan Knights. They took places by the side wall as Malek came to the table.

“Thank you for answering my summons,” he said without preamble, leaning forward with his gloved fists resting on the tabletop. His voice sounded like he was dying of thirst but was too proud to ask for a glass of water. “I have asked you here because the Sarafan Order – that is, myself and the Sarafan Knights with me – have decided to enact a new plan of action in order to finally destroy the last vampire, the one known as Janos.”

Mortanius started a bit at the mention of Janos, but he wasn’t the only one. The other Guardians seemed equally surprised by this new development.

“We have been lax in our efforts to eliminate the vampire threat,” Malek continued. “And for that, I apologize. For many years, we have focused our attacks on the half-breeds instead of seeking out the cause of the vampire curse. Janos is the last vampire on Nosgoth, and his continued existence is a unifying symbol to all the half-breeds, and a mark of our repeated failure to eradicate the vampires forever. And so, tonight, the Sarafan Knights will embark once more on a quest to finally kill Janos and end the race of vampires once and for all.”

“Excuse me,” Palton said. “But you said tonight? Isn’t this rather sudden? Usually, the Circle is alerted to any major plans against the vampires several weeks in advance.”

“It can’t be helped,” Malek said, curtly shaking his head. “Time is of the essence. We have no choice but to make our move against Janos tomorrow, so the Knights must leave tonight.”

“I don’t understand,” Sirine said, looking around at the others seated at the table. “I know that I’m not as experienced in these matters as some of the other Guardians, but it’s my understanding that the Sarafan has tried to kill this vampire dozens of times over the centuries.”

“Yes,” Palton replied, “and they’ve always failed. The fortress where Janos dwells is completely impossible to break into. The last time the Sarafan made an assault there, more than thirty men died.”

Malek jerked his head in Palton’s direction. “Thirty-four brave soldiers lost their lives trying to rid the world of a monster,” he snapped. “And twenty-three the time before that. I know exactly how many lives we have sacrificed in our quest, Palton.”

“And how many are we willing to risk this time?” Palton replied evenly, leaning back and crossing his arms.

Ellendra’s voice cut across the room. “Malek, you said that time is of the essence. That implies you have some special reason for ordering this new assault, correct? Some new information about your target?”

“Yes, we do,” Malek said. He hesitated for a moment and cleared his throat. “We have determined that there is a secret entrance to the fortress, although it is well hidden.”

At that, Mortanius could not help but blurt out, “A secret entrance? Where is it? And how in the world did you discover such a thing?”

“And how does that explain your intention to assault the fortress on such short notice?” Ellendra asked. “Surely, the secret entrance isn’t going anywhere.”

Malek clenched his fists so tight that they could hear the leather of his gloves squeak with the pressure. “We cannot be sure that this entrance will be unguarded for very long, and so we must move as soon as possible. If we delay, Janos may block the entrance or find a way to prevent us from using it. We have an opportunity and we must take advantage of it.”

Moebius finally spoke up, his voice calm and mannered, in contrast to Malek’s barely contained rage and frustration. “What is your plan, Malek?”

The Guardian of Conflict took a breath and stood up straight. “I have devised a very specific plan of attack, which is quite different from our previous attempts. Instead of sending a large force of soldiers in the hopes of breaching the fortress by strength of numbers, I will instead send a smaller unit, which will access the secret entrance and enter the fortress by stealth.”

“And you think this plan will work?” Palton asked.

“I am confident.”

“You said that you will send them,” Mortanius said. “Does that mean that you won’t take part in the assault?”

Malek again seemed on the verge of losing his temper, but he held his composure long enough to give a short nod. “The Sarafan Knights will embark on this important mission, but I will not be with them. I will remain here at the Temple. Perhaps I should allow the mission leader to explain further.”

With that, Malek stiffly stepped aside and one of his Knights approached the table. He wore elaborate gold and red armor, with spiked shoulder pads and an engraved golden breastplate, and his flared helmet was tucked under his arm. His face was pointed and angular, handsome in a noble-born kind of way, his hair jet black and his eyes dark and intense.

The Knight’s name was Raziel, but Mortanius had never spoken to him personally. Like most of the Sarafan Knights, Raziel came across as cruel and arrogant, although unlike Malek, he at least knew how to smile and appear sociable. The other Sarafan Knights were named Melchiah, Zephon, Dumah, Turel, and Rahab. Great warriors all, but they did not socialize with the Circle and kept mainly to themselves.

“Thank you, Commander,” Raziel said. “It is my great honor to be chosen to carry out this sacred duty. The vampire known as Janos has lived far too long, and his death will be a terrible blow to the half-breeds who worship him.”

“Please,” Ellendra said. “Why is Malek not leading this assault himself?”

Raziel gave her a winning smile. “In the past, the Sarafan have always been led in combat by one of the Guardians, usually either the Guardian of Conflict or the Guardian of Time. But Janos, I have been told, is a Guardian himself, is he not?”

Some of the younger Guardians, like Sirine and Rashard, seemed surprised by this piece of information, which was not widely known. Mortanius chose to answer, since he believed that the question was actually directed at him. “Not a Guardian of the Pillars,” he said. “But Janos took part in the Pillar ceremonies, and he was referred to as a Guardian by the other vampires.”

“It is known that the Guardians are connected in special ways,” Raziel said. “You can detect the presence of other Guardians when you choose to. Is it not possible that Janos can also detect the other Guardians?”

Mortanius had no answer to that. In fact, the thought had never occurred to him.

Raziel took that as agreement. “For this reason, our Commander will not accompany us. If all of the Guardians remain here at the Temple, perhaps Janos will not be expecting an attack. If we can reach the secret entrance, we may be able to sneak into his fortress without being noticed. Once inside, we can find Janos and kill him.”

“How?” Palton asked.

“The same way all of the other vampires were killed,” Raziel said simply. “By using the magical staff in order to incapacitate him first, and then slaying him while he is defenseless.”

“But Moebius is not coming with you either,” Ellendra said, looking in his direction.

“The Guardian of Time has graciously allowed me to wield his staff for this mission.”

Mortanius flinched and looked at Moebius in shock. In all their years together and throughout all the many assaults on vampire strongholds, Moebius never once allowed anyone else to use the staff. The staff was a part of him. Many of the commoners even believed that Moebius was the only one capable of using the staff, or that the power to injure the vampires was a special power that he alone possessed.

“It’s true,” Moebius said with a slight shrug. “It pains me to say it, but my presence there will only be a hindrance. Even if Janos doesn’t detect that I’m nearby, the Sarafan Knights will be forced to expend effort in order to protect me in case there’s danger. For this mission, they must not have any distractions, and so I will surrender the staff.”

“I will not let you down,” Raziel promised. He then smiled again and looked across the faces of the other Guardians. “The Sarafan Order exists for one purpose, to eradicate the vampire scourge that has preyed on humanity for far too long. Tomorrow, we will finally put an end to the race of true vampires, and bring Nosgoth one step closer to freedom for the human race. Janos will die by our hand, this we vow.”

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