The Chronicles of Reeve

Reeve trudged behind the rest of the troupe. He enjoyed walking behind everyone, there less people to talk to. Reeve began to relax. They had been walking along this dusty path for hours now, and sun was beginning to set. He quietly sheathed his sword, and began to think; his future would require much thought. He considered what it would be like to be king again. It would be glorious, much as it was nineteen years ago. There were much more important things to think of though, such as finding a cure for his condition…

Reeve’s soon to be cheerless thoughts were interrupted by Anna, one of the three other members in Gafgorian’s Troupe. She looked over her shoulder, and smiled. “How are you doing back there Reeve?”

Reeve enjoyed Anna’s company far more than any other member of the party. She was beautiful, elegant, and very intelligent. She was also the healer of the group. From birth she was blessed with a divine gift to heal others simply by touch. Many a time Reeve had griped about a small pitiful wound, just to attract her sympathy.

Reeve responded with a smile “Yea, I’m doing fine…” He broke eye contact, lowered his gaze to the ground, and then quickly looked back up “Thanks…”

Anna smiled again, and focused her attention back to the road ahead. Reeve shook his head, shrugging off his private embarrassment. Reeve needed to focus. It would be dark soon, and his traveling partners could use his help. Ever since he became… diseased, his senses were unnaturally heightened at night.

He cringed at the thought of being ill, and withdrew a long sharp knife from a scabbard on his thigh. This road was rumored to be home to several demons, among them the Barngst. Reeve had never seen this Barngst creature, and wasn’t entirely sure it even existed.

He had seen his fair share of demons from the war, but he had seen nothing that resembled “An embodiment of Darkness, and Fire.” The drunkard at the inn was probably simply stringing together a weave of lies, as much traveling Bards do. Reeve had asked him more than once to give more details, but the Bard revealed nothing.

Reeve’s train of thought was suddenly broken again, as the overbearing bearded Gafgorian shouted from the front of the line. “You ready back there Demon King? It’s almost sunset, and I’m just about ready to go to sleep!”

Reeve’s guts twisted with loathing. He hated the way Gafgorian treated him. Always calling him “Demon King”, in a mixture of mocking, and disbelief. No one in the troupe believed him. Reeve was a king, and he would prove it to them once they got to Dycendarg. There was a statue of him in the palace, much like every past ruler of the kingdom.

Reeve felt his temper rise, and his stomach growl with hunger. He licked the right side of his mouth, playing with his sharp eyetooth. He could kill Gafgorian now. No one would care. They should all be taught a lesson. They should respect their king!

Anna smacked Gafgorian in the head. “Treat him better!” She cried, “You know full well Reeve deserves better than that!”

Reeve’s anger faded, and he smiled. He mentally noted how fast his temper had risen; how quick, and how close he was to killing Gafgorian. Normally simple names would never bother him, but as of late Reeve felt himself getting more and more moody. Small things set him off, and without knowing it his anger began to show. The rest of the troupe stayed a safe distance away, Anna seemed to defend him out of pity with every statement, and Gafgorian was verbally attacking him every chance he got. This was just the way Gafgorian was. Everyone had to put up with him, and everyone was getting a little nervous whenever he spoke to Reeve.

They knew Reeve was a Vampire. He never slept, he never ate, and he never drank. If he did indulge himself, it was simply an act to blend in with everyone else. It was a long time before Reeve was trusted to stay up and guard the troupe. It wasn’t until he had saved Flyrge, another member of the troupe, from a savage forest demon. After that encounter everyone had gained enough trust to let him to stay awake by himself.

It was silent for the rest of the walk.

***

They found a nice spot to rest, right near the base of a large cliff. Dycendarg could be seen far below, but it would still take weeks to get there. The cliff would prove to be the main antagonist in this chapter of Reeve’s adventure. Of course he could scale it no problem once the sun dropped below the horizon. He gained many supernatural abilities after sunset, climbing was one of many of his abilities that would become stronger. If it weren’t for the fact that he was traveling with the troupe he would scale the cliff.

Reeve pondered at this idea for a moment. He was still particularly angry with Gafgorian. He was always on his case. Reeve considered revenge. It would far too easy to disappear into the trees for a few hours, and frighten Gafgorian in the night. He cleared this thought from his brain. His troupe would lose their trust in him after that, which he worked so long and hard to obtain.

The sun finally disappeared from behind the treetops, and cliffs. Reeve felt himself swell with energy, and his senses heightened. He silently slipped away from the group into a nearby cluster of trees. His pupils grew; nearly covering the entire iris, and he began to salivate mildly. His eyeteeth grew to double their ‘daytime’ length, and his brain became fevered, filled with thoughts of death, and murder. No one ever saw his transformation. He would make an excuse, and walk away for a little while. After the initial transformation, he could keep himself under control, and make himself look ‘normal’ again. He could do nothing about the length of his teeth, and his pupils, but he could control his thoughts, and could stop his mouth from foaming.

He walked back to the group who had set up a little camp. A small wood fire burned in the center with a couple troupe members surrounding it. Upon closer inspection Reeve discovered it was Anna, and Flygre. He walked over to the fire without a sound. He seemed to weigh less at night, making his footsteps softer, quieter. Reeve wasn’t too sure about the cause of this, but he enjoyed the extra stealth.

Reeve sat noiselessly down on a log opposite to Anna, and stared at the fire. It seemed to have the same effect on him as Sunlight. Since Reeve wasn’t born a vampire like the escaped demons from the Lower Depths of Hell, he could walk in the sun. At the worst of times he felt slightly drowsy but nothing else. A real vampire would burn in an instant if it were to walk out in the sun. Reeve was glad this wasn’t the case for him. He smiled without realizing it, and Anna caught him.

“What’s so funny? With the events that took place today, I hardly would think you’d be smiling.” She had a quizzical look upon her face, her long blonde hair elegantly hanging to the left side of her head.

“Humph.” Reeve quickly wiped the smile from his face, and began one of his frequent lies; “It was nothing. I was just remembering back to an earlier time…”

Now it was Anna’s turn to smile. “Well it’s a good thing you still have those memories. Everyone has to smile once in a while.”
Reeve wished he could remember his childhood. For the past one hundred eighty years or so his brain had been plagued with violent thoughts of regret, hate, and a burning desire to kill. There wasn’t too much room for childhood memories.

Anna suddenly got up. “I’m packing it in for the night. Have a good evening Reeve, try not to get into too much trouble.” She giggled at this, and walked towards her tent. Reeve watched longingly for a few minutes wishing he could be normal again, and maybe then, only then could he love her without fearing for her life. He did not wish to harm her in any way, but with his recent mood swings, Reeve didn’t trust himself.

For another hour or so Flygre, and Reeve sat on the logs, saying nothing to each other. Flygre was an odd fellow. Another Swordsman. He didn’t talk very much; less than Reeve, which was quite an achievement. As the stars began to light up in the evening sky, Flygre got up, and walked to his tent. Reeve was alone once again. He enjoyed being alone. It gave him time for his tired brain to think, and plan without interruption.

With everyone comfortably asleep, he put out the fire, and walked away, feeling his heightened sense return to him. He stood on the base of a large cliff, overlooking the distant kingdom below. Soon it would be his again, and he could use the resources that came with his kingship to find a cure. Only then could he be happy. Only then could he fall in love, and not worry anymore. Only then could he die.
Reeve stared off into the night sky, dreaming of the future when suddenly pain ripped through his left arm as something hit him. Reeve’s mind instantly became animalistic, and he began to function of pure instincts.

Looking towards the woods where the object had came from; Reeve saw small movements in the undergrowth. Was it the Barngst? Were his friends in danger? Reeve couldn’t let that happen.

As if from the gates of Hell itself, a mighty roar erupted uncontrollably from Reeve’s lips. He charged, unthinking into the forest canopy. He smelled his prey. It was close. Reeve withdrew his long sword, and began to search frantically for his attacker. He heard whimpering in the bushes behind him. Reeve turned, his eyes filling with red as unnatural adrenaline pumped through his veins. His vision became completely clouded from the thrill of the hunt. He ripped into the bushes, and produced a creature from the greenery. It wasn’t a demon, probably just a man. It struggled in his hand, and screamed something. Reeve couldn’t hear it; it was as if he were underwater. Everything sounded distorted. He didn’t care.

With one swift motion Reeve’s sword penetrated the creature’s throat, skewering the tree behind the soon to be dead being. A satisfied roar escaped Reeve, and he released his hand from his sword. The creature was pinned to the tree, and couldn’t move. The hunt was over, and Reeve began to get his focus back. He turned away and walked towards the cliff to let his eyes drain of the built up blood.
After his vision was restored he looked around on the ground where he was standing. He found a small harmless sling stone, the object that had struck his arm. He picked it up, and began turning it over in his hand. It was odd. Normally an attacker would use something more lethal if they wished to kill him. Perhaps they wished to simply knock him unconscious? Anna appeared by his side.

“I heard you… in the woods… what happened?” She looked frightened, and was standing a safe distance away from him. Reeve hated himself for making her nervous.

“It was just some Bandit in the Forest. He tried to knock me unconscious with this sling stone. I made short work of him.”
Flygre appeared from his tent, also awoken by the noise. He walked slowly up, and curiously looked towards the woods. “Got another one didja?”

Reeve nodded. He walked over towards the woods, interested in finding out whom the attacker was. Most bandits belonged to a certain group, and displayed their colors, and symbols on their ragtag uniforms. Anna and Flygre followed.

The walked silently through the woods for thirty seconds or so, and found the body. Reeve’s stomach churned. Anna screamed, and Flygre gasped.

There he hung, sword pierced through the neck, stuck to the thick tree. The body was lifeless and limp. Gafgorian would never see another day.