Chapter 17: Words of the Past
"Draven- i-i mean, Master Draven. Can I ask you a personal question?"
Prudence lay naked on the bed of Draven as he sat at its edge, reading a book given to him by Lucian.
It was about the origins of the races. Since there were so many of them, it was important for him to stay up-to-date and knowledgeable.
Not only with the five major races but with many minor ones as well.
"It depends on how personal it is."
Prudence propped herself up on one arm, her breasts spilling out from beneath the covers, and looked at him.
The sun was now falling, but it cast its faint glow on her brown skin, highlighting her beauty.
"The great clan duels that happened a thousand years ago before I was even born. There was no reason for you to agree to participate. You were already the strongest and could have lived the rest of your days out in comfort."
The topic was personal. Very personal. However, Draven decided to continue listening.
It was the first time that the topic had been brought up to him since he woke up.
Not even Dracula had spoken to him about it.
"So why did you participate? Why did you fight the leader of the werewolf clan, leading to your need to enter an eternal rest? In other words... Killing yourself."
Draven let out a sigh and closed his book.
He contemplated whether or not he should answer the question. But it was something about Prudence's usual casualness that made him inclined the do so.
It was as though she made the situation less serious than it was.
Less personal.
"Because I owed it to him."
It was all he said, and all he would say.
Prudence continued staring at him for a few moments, expecting more, before realising that there was no more for her to get.
---
The next day, Draven sat down with Dracula to speak about the upcoming expedition.
Draven sat on the throne whilst his best friend stood in front of him. The hall was empty of vampires. Only maids passed by, going about their duties.
"So, we have the five leaders ready. You, myself, Lucian, Vespera, and Prudence." Dracula wrote down notes in a notebook.
He has always been so meticulous.
"Did Vespera seem okay with leading when you brought it up to her?" Draven asked.
"She couldn't have been more open to the idea. Her eyes practically gleamed with light, and her smile was wide."
Draven looked at his friend with a sceptical eye.
"Fine." He admitted, "She didn't do all of that, but she accepted the role. And I trust she will do it well."
It was good enough for Draven.
"And what about Prudence?"
He didn't need to think much to answer.
"Yes, she'll make a good leader."
Dracula jotted down a few more notes in the notebook. After he was done, he snapped it shut and held it beneath his arm.
"Well then. With that done, all we need to think about is a strategy of attack. The five battalions will all be able to strike at different places and times. However, there is one major difficulty."
Draven looked at his friend with confusion.
Is there something I've overlooked? Surely not.
After a few moments, Dracula's expression turned to one more serious as he spoke in a blunt tone.
"The Silver Peaks. Home of the werewolves. They have the advantage of fighting in their own terrain."
---
[Lunaris Silverclaw]
Lunaris, Queen of the Werewolves, sat on the peak of the central mountain, looking down at the four mountains surrounding her.
Snow fell from the sky against her skin, but she didn't feel the cold. Instead, it was a comforting warmth to her.
"Do you think they will come?" A young male's voice came from behind her.
Lunaris used her claws to scratch at the snow beneath her. It made a satisfying noise that seemed to calm her mind.
"I don't think, Ecliyen, I know."
The boy looked down at his feet, clearly overwhelmed by his thoughts.
Worry plagues him. He is still so young...
So ignorant.
She reached over and ruffled the boy's hair in a playful gesture.
"You stress about things that you do not need to stress about little brother." She grabbed his hands and held them up to his face.
"You see these claws? These are what Father used to pierce the heart of the Evil Lord who dares to come for us. These are the mightiest weapons in all of Valhalla."
Ecliyen looked at her sister, confidence starting to show in his eyes.
"And if Father could pierce his heart, little brother... Then imagine what you can do?"
After the small speech, she released her brother's hands and returned her gaze to the surrounding mountains.
It was a beautiful sight to see, and even greater to live in.
This is our land. The Silver Peaks, home to the werewolves.
...
Come, if you wish, Draven. But you will not be granted the same luck you were given against my father so long ago.
No... I will make sure of it.