Chronicles of Darkness: Shadows and Dust

Taylor Fierce and Andrea F. Thomas

CHRONICLES OF DARKNESS

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BOOK 1

SHADOWS AND DUST

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This book is dedicated to you.

The light is what is good

the darkness, the night,

that is the realm of sin

and is the evil's might.

Adelbert of Chamisso

Table Of Content

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Book 1

SHADOWS AND DUST

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         Darkness enfolded the
trees of the forest. Only some hungry predators of the night were creeping
through the bushes, searching and stalking their prey. Somewhere in the
distance an owl called. A scraping sound sliced through the dark, sparks came
to life, eating away on the dry wood of a campfire.

         Kyrian Leosol put the
flint stones aside and lowered his tired body to his bedroll. Lost, his dark
brown eyes
stared, fixedly,
into the blazing
flames. The shine illuminated his sorrowful face. His long black hair
cascaded
over his bent shoulders. His sinewy body
was covered by leathern clothes. There was an unusual hardness to his youthful
features and his angry gaze indicated that he must have been forced to grow up
too fast.

         He forgot everything
around him, until the soft whinny of his horse brought him back from his dreary
thoughts. The young man got up and went to the black stallion to lift off the
heavy saddle.

         With gentle hands he
stroked the soft muzzle of his trusty companion.
"Five
years, Nightshade.
Five years.
For such a long time I've been chasing
the wretched bloodsuckers who destroyed our lives. All my hopes seem to turn to
dust. And still, there is no trace of Skylar. What keeps me going is the
thought, that maybe one day I will see her again."

         He reached into his
pocket and took hold of a silver bracelet, running his thumb softly over the
fine metal, "Mother," he whispered.

         Kyrian looked up at the
sky,
"You always told us that being
a hunter
wouldn't
be easy. You were right. Day
turns to night and night turns to day." His words sounded desperate.
"My battle against these beasts seems like a lost cause,
as if I am fighting
in vain. They are like the heads of a hydra. If
one is killed,
two more will rise. Still,
there is no sign of your murderer. His trail seems to have vanished right in
front of me and is lost in the shadows."

         Tears began to fill his
eyes
, "
I miss your advice, Mama. I miss
you so much," he admitted, stricken by grief. "I can't sleep at night
because of the dreams that are haunting me, and
the
memories of that one awful day are torturing my soul." Sobbing, Kyrian
buried his face in his hands. "I will never forgive myself that I wasn't
there when you needed me the most."

         Nightshade pushed his
head into his master's side. Kyrian smiled slightly, but the sadness and pain
in his eyes remained,
"At least I
have you, Nightshade. And every day you are reminding me of happier times."

         Lovingly he caressed the
stallion's neck, "No! I won't give up! I took a vow and I will
fulfill
it, no matter what it takes!" Anger
flashed in his eyes. "I will avenge your death, Mama! Azrael and all his
bloodsucking beasts won't get off lightly! Their deaths will be painful and
tormenting. They will suffer from my hands like you suffered from that
monster's hands!"

         While Kyrian took care of
his horse
, his temper calmed. With a gentle swat, he
released the stallion to graze. H
e sat down in front of the fire with
some stale bread and a piece of dry meat, washing it down with sips from a
water skin. After he had finished his meal, he opened one of his saddlebags and
took out an old, well-worn book, a quill and a small bottle of ink. "Well,
I never thought that one day I would be keeping a diary. But,
paper is patient and a trusty friend in the
loneliness."

         Pensively he went through
his entries, until he came upon the first empty page. He opened the bottle and
carefully dipped the quill into the ink. Kyrian paused upon writing down his
thoughts and stared back into the flames.

         "Everything started
with the unfortunate day my family and I arrived in Paris. I wish we never had
entered this godforsaken place."

Europe 1598

         The soft rays
of dusk made the metropolis, which lay at the river Seine, appear in a
picturesque, warm light. The houses were submerged in a sea of red fire as the
sun slowly faded. Like the epitome of divinity on earth, the cathedral of Notre
Dame rose proudly above the town's rooftops. Its mighty bell towers reached for
the rising stars to build a bridge between heaven and earth.

         "Paris,"
Helena reflected calmly, stopping the carriage on a little hill. She looked at
the town at her feet. "Beautiful indeed, though it is a deceptive idyll
that lies in the West," she surmised. A mild breeze was playing with her
long blond curls, which had come loose from her ribbon. She was a strong woman,
of athletic built, with soft features in an even face.

         A horse snorted
and an adolescent of wiry stature with long black hair appeared at her side,
sitting on his black stallion. "This depraved den of iniquity is just
another assembly of unsuspecting victims, whose blood those creatures strive
for. Only we are able to save the people by burning the vampires to ash,"
he boasted.

         These
haughtily spoken words earned him a piercing glare. "Guard your loose
tongue, my son. Do not brag about deeds you have not done. Holding such an
exaggerated opinion of yourself is no virtue. On the contrary, it will make you
very easy prey."

         The boy
didn't oppose his mother, because deep inside, he knew that she was right.
Although he would never admit it out loud. "It will be an insignificant
mission like any other," he mumbled petulantly, staring ostensibly bored
ahead.

         His mother
commented that with a disapproving sigh.

         Their
conversation was interrupted by a hearty yawn from inside the carriage. The
sleepy face of a girl appeared. She was the spitting image of her mother. The
same blonde hair and clear, green-brown eyes. After stretching, she sat down
next to Helena. "Are we there yet?" she asked after looking around
and yawning again.

         "Oh,
Skylar!" her brother exclaimed, laughing loudly. "You always miss
everything."

         Helena smiled
and lovingly caressed the girl's soft cheek. "Why the impatience, my dear
daughter?"

         Skylar leaned
back, regarding her mother with sleepy eyes. "We've been traveling night
and day since the messenger gave you the mysterious letter. You don't allow us
or the animals to take a rest, and still you don't utter one word about the
paper's contents."

         Helena gave
Kyrian a meaningful glance, which wasn't missed by Skylar. Indignantly the
young girl leapt up. "Oh, I see. You told Kyrian? That is so mean!"
Pouting, she sat down again and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
"I'm twelve years old. I can read, write, and I'm good at figures. But you
two always treat me like a baby," she grumbled.

         Her brother
came to her side, laughing roguishly. "You are still wet behind the ears
and way too young to be concerned about the special tasks of a hunter." He
spurred Nightshade and galloped off to lead the way.

         Clicking her
tongue, Helena pulled at the reins and the horses started to move again.        Skylar
sat beside her, still pouting with crossed arms. "Why does Kyrian always
pick on me? He isn't even that much older, only four years!"

         "Stubborn,
just like your brother," Helena remarked knowingly. Amused, the corners of
her mouth twitched.

         Her daughter
mumbled something unintelligible. She no longer wanted to be fobbed off with -
you
are too young.
"I'm also a member of this family. I bear the
sign!" To demonstrate said fact, she took hold of her long blond hair and
pulled it away from her neck. "Do you see? Do you see the lion head that
symbolizes our family? You made this tattoo, Mama. "

         Helena
sighed, loosened the reins a bit to give the experienced horses more freedom,
and put one arm around her daughter. "One day you will be ready for the
hunt, but it is not your time yet. Enjoy being a child while you can. Your
youth will pass by faster than you think."

         Without
listening to her mother’s words, Skylar kept begging. "Since you won't let
me go hunting, then please, at least tell me something about the letter's
content."

         Helena
relented to her daughter's imploration. "A very influential family of the
French high nobility, the Bouchardons, told me about unusual incidents. I am to
investigate these strange occurrences, because there is the possibility that
the creatures of darkness are involved."

         Skylar wanted
to know more, but Helena made it plainly clear that she wasn't willing to
reveal further details. "I won't allow more questions."

         Discontented,
the girl grumbled a bit, leaned back and looked with indifference at the
beautiful landscape, which consisted of productive fields and blossoming
vegetation.

         Kyrian came
back to report. "We have nearly reached our destination. I asked one of
the peasants about the count's estate. He said to turn to the right at the next
crossing. After passing a little forest, the castle should be right in front of
us."

         "Wonderful."
Relieved, Helena took a deep breath.

         Following the
peasant's description, they soon arrived at the castle. The area was surrounded
by high brick walls to shield the noble family from curious glances. Its
copiously decorated iron gates were wide open. The fast approaching night made
the mighty trees of the chestnut grove appear eerie. The horses' hooves drubbed
on the cobble stone avenue, which led directly to the castle. Arching above the
paved way, the strong branches of the old trees entwined at a giddy height,
forming a natural roof. Long flower beds and little box tree hedges surrounded
the way that led to the main portal of the old castle. It was a magnificent
building. Light shone through the open doors of the lowest floor.

         Helena
stopped the carriage right in front of the entrance stairs. Pebbles crunched
beneath their leather boots, as the three of them strode toward the stone
steps.        

         In the foyer,
the family was greeted by a small, middle-aged and corpulent man. He went to
Helena and took off his hat, revealing a high forehead and hair that was
beginning to turn gray. "I've been anxiously waiting for you,
Madame," he greeted her, a bit breathless. "Welcome to
'Quiportebonheur'
."
He bowed. More to himself than to Helena, he added, "What a fateful name.
This place certainly didn’t bring any luck to my lord and lady." Jolting
out of his dark memories, the man cleared his throat and went on, formally,
"My name is Bernard Delacroix. I’m the caretaker of this estate of the
Bouchardons, and I was empowered to give you all the details of the great
misfortune."

         Briefly, he
glanced at the children. "Would you please follow me to the dining room? I
took the liberty and had a meal prepared. Your journey was probably very
exhausting."

          "Thank
you very much for your efforts, Monsieur." Helena said politely. Following
the caretaker, she crossed the gold and marble lined entrance hall.

         Her children
walked close behind. Skylar drew her brows together at the uneasy silence that
ruled inside. "This looks a lot like an abandoned, ghost-haunted
castle."

         Kyrian
glanced around and remarked matter-of-factly, "Perhaps the family turned
their back to this place after the terrible tragedy." He didn't seem very
concerned. "I'm only thinking about getting something to eat. My stomach
has been growling ever since that man mentioned a meal."

         Skylar's eyes
widened in disbelief. "How can you think about food in a moment like this?
I want to know what's been going on with this family. Don't you think that the
caretaker is strange?"

         Kyrian
groaned and pushed his sister into the dining room, which had probably seen
more glamorous times. Furniture, candle holders and chandelier had been covered
with large, white sheets. A little fire was blazing in the marble fireplace,
illuminating the room and giving it a pleasant atmosphere. A group of big
armchairs had been arranged in front of it and Bernard indicated for the family
to take a seat.

         Skylar
watched the caretaker like a hawk, which caused her brother to gently nudge her
with his elbow. She glared at him.

         He bent over
the side of his armchair and whispered, "Quit acting so strangely,
Skylar."

         The girl shot
him a pointed look. "Well, if somebody of my family would tell me what
this was all about, then I wouldn't have to wildly speculate, would I?"
she hissed.

         "You are
seeing ghosts." Kyrian frowned and leaned back in the comfortable chair.
Instead of further arguing with his sister, he let his eyes wander over the
food-laden table in front of him. "Hmmm, the French sure know how to get
one's appetite going. I've got to taste all of this." He rubbed his hands
in excitement. "Everything smells delicious and looks so exquisite."

         Bernard was
happy to hear that. He lifted his glass with red wine to inaugurate the dinner.
"I sincerely hope that all will be to your liking."

         Helena and
her children also raised their water-filled glasses.

         They ate in
silence, while Bernard squirmed restlessly in his chair, sipping his wine.
Finally, he addressed Helena in a quiet voice, "After dinner, I will give
you a detailed description of the tragedy that came to pass in this house. The
letter I sent was short, I know. You probably have a lot of questions."
Nervously, he fiddled with the wineglass. "I'm sure that your honorable
family will understand... um... how should I put this..." He searched for
the right words. "Um... the need to investigate this affair, as quickly as
possible, in order to bring the truth forward." Bernard seemed to be very
burdened by the past occurrences. He reached into his pocket, took out a
wrinkled handkerchief and dabbed the beads of sweat from his forehead.

         "There
is no reason to be nervous, Bernard," Helena said to the obviously
overwhelmed caretaker and compassionately placed a hand on his arm. "May I
call you Bernard?"

         The shaken
man took a large sip of his wine and nodded.

         "You can
speak freely. You must, Bernard, if we are to help this family. So, please,
tell us precisely what happened on
'Quiportebonheur'
."

         Bernard was
dismayed. "You want to hear it now? In front of the children, and while we
are eating?"

         Helena spoke
calmly and reassured him, "My children are familiar with the life of a
hunter. What you tell me, you can also say to them. You may begin with your
tale, Bernard."

         The caretaker
relented. "As you wish, Madame." Then he quickly added, "Please
keep in mind, you need to be very discreet about the whole situation."

         "Yes,
you can be certain about our discretion in this matter," Helena calmed
him.

         After that,
Bernard began to reconstruct the occurrences. "It was one of those nights,
where the moon glowed crimson in the sky. At that time, Monsieur le Comte and
his wife, Margarete, were in Paris to watch a new play at one of the theatres.
They wanted to spend the night with their friends. The servants were given
permission to go out. I was alone in the house with the three children of the
Bouchardons."

         Helena
interrupted immediately. "Did you say
three
children?"

         With shaking
hands Bernard poured some more wine into his glass, then answered her question.
"Yes, three. Two daughters, Luise and Joséphine, seventeen and fourteen
years old, and the youngest member of the family, Philippe, only five years
old." Thinking about the children, he swallowed hard. "I have my
quarters under the roof and sleep there, as do the other servants. For hours it
had been quiet in the house. The children were already sleeping and I was in
bed. The big windows of the second floor were wide open because of the sultry
heat that night." Lost in thought, his eyes stared unseeingly ahead.
"I still remember how the light curtains were drifting around the window
frames. Everything seemed so calm... peaceful..."

         Bernard
trailed off and his tear-filled gaze turned to the blazing flames. He used the
sleeve of his jacket to wipe his eyes. "This night will forever be etched
into my memories. It keeps haunting me in my dreams as well."

         After a small
pause, he continued, "In the middle of the night, I awoke to a
blood-curling scream, which made my skin crawl." He shivered. "It
sounded like it had been Luise, who had screamed. I leapt up from my bed,
jumped into my clothes and grabbed my pistol, which I keep in the drawer of my
nightstand." Bernard's voice trembled. He obviously relived the horrors of
said night in his mind. "I raced downstairs, as fast as I could."
Looking at Helena, he explained, "At this point I believed that some
robbers had forced their way into the house, searching for money and other
valuables." Still feeling guilty for the terrible mistake, he stopped
again.