Chapter 15: The Seal Beneath the Manor
Darkness had fallen on the city, but the Earl's estate had not even considered resting. Torches lined the stone walls of the meeting chamber, their flames dancing on the spread maps that lay across a long, wooden table. A few captains were positioned around it, each standing in silence while the Earl studied the reports before him.
They spoke the same story, one page after another, Monsters. Not the stray beast that a few hunters might have encountered out on the road but something that ought to be a very great distance away, wolves bigger than horses could be seen on the north trails; one patrol mentioned that something immense was moving in the woods at dusk but did not know what, because it was already lost to the trees again.
The Earl leaned back slowly in his chair.
"All of these sights in a single week, this is not typical," he said. "No, my lord. There can be no other reason than something that is forcing these creatures close to the road," stated a captain, nodding glumly.
The Earl looked at the map spread across the table. He traced with a finger, following the woods from the edge of the city out into the vast expanse that covered the land like an endless dark ocean. Whatever had caused this, he was not about to be blindsided by it.
"Increase the number of patrols," he commanded. "Keep a close eye on all the outer roads and, if these creatures move into the city, we will be aware of it before they ever reach the walls." another captain inclined his head. "Understood, my lord."
"Send scouts onto the outer forest paths," he said, his voice gaining strength with his resolve. "Not deep enough that you lose them, however even if I cannot afford to be losing men it's a must to watch what is stirring those woods."
He stood still, his hands linked serenely behind his back, but the same look of unease was shared across his face like every other face in the room.
"It is wise to be cautious," he said in a calm voice. "There could be any amount of trouble if these creatures reach the city." The Earl gave a barely visible nod to his words. A moment later, the room was silent as the captains gathered their orders and departed. One by one, they bowed their heads toward the Earl and left the meeting chamber.
The Viscount's carriage clattered quietly on the dark streets before it drew to a halt outside of the gates to his manor. The building stood tall and imposing with windows lit with the soft yellow glow of lamps; his servants came out and bowed low, but he shooed them away with a wave of his hand.
"Leave me," he commanded softly.
No one disobeyed him as they all walked out orderly.
The manor grew quiet and the Viscount strode through the empty corridors of the rooms until he came to an obscure door behind a large tapestry that hung on the wall.
Pulling the heavy cloth back he inserted a key and turned it, unlocking the door to reveal a set of narrow, stone stairs descending into darkness beneath the manor. He descended, and the air grew noticeably cooler with every step. He trod down, and the stone of the walls that lined the stairs were very old and worn; there were patches of moss clinging to the corners, and scratches that were all but indecipherable now.
At the bottom of the stairs there was a huge chamber, and within the chamber were several figures-loyal servants who had been with him for many years. Each was a man of utmost trust, and the chamber walls were illuminated by torchlight casting long, wavering shadows onto the room's faces.
At the center of the chamber stood a great stone plinth engraved with ancient runes. Each rune pulsed with a dim light-the light of buried embers.
One of the men stepped nervously toward the plinth. "My lord... Are we truly going to do this tonight?" The Viscount's eyes glided to the plinth.
"This seal has rested beneath this city for many ages," he stated, his voice low and resonating with a confidence none could deny. "A forgotten heirloom, created by the vampire god king." His eyes narrowed with intent.
"But artifacts are meant to be used by those intelligent enough to harness them." The servant fidgeted. "It is said that what is sealed in here once decimated entire vampire cities..."
"And they say true," the Viscount stated. He stepped forward toward the cold stone plinth and ran a hand across its surface.
"Abraham Van Helsing."
The words echoed softly around the chamber.
"The god king defeated him centuries ago and sealed him away here after taking all but a fraction of his power. The force behind this seal is less than one percent of what it once was." The Viscount turned and regarded his servants with a bright smile.
"But even that miniscule force is greater than any city king of a vampire city."
The men fidgeted nervously again.
The Viscount smiled a small, cold smile.
"Imagine the potential, of having such power directed by a knowing hand."
The torches flared and a chilling wind swept through the chamber. This night, the ancient, untouched seal was finally to be broken. And none of them fully knew what would happen when it was.
And none of them fully understood what would happen when that happened.
The Viscount's smile gradually vanished, and he turned his gaze back to the stone plinth. "No more waiting," he commanded coolly. The servants immediately snapped to attention. He produced a small iron box from the inner pocket of his coat and carefully placed it on the rim of the plinth, where it popped open with a soft click. Within the case were five artifacts. At first they appeared unremarkable, but as soon as the lid was opened, the torches in the chamber flickered wildly. Each one was a fragment of a weapon: a broken spearhead; a jagged piece of a blade; a length of blackened shaft; a metal ring carved with strange runes; and, finally, the weapon's shattered heart. "These," the Viscount announced quietly, "are the fragments of the weapon which put a stop to Van Helsing all those centuries ago, they are all parts of the weapon used to seal him." The faces of the servants turned to them, one man's jaw dropped in astonishment, "My lord...those are-"
"Not until I say so, do not utter a sound!" the Viscount interrupted sternly. The man immediately clamped his jaw shut. Duncan carefully lifted the spearhead and pressed it against one of the burning runes carved into the plinth. The rune dimmed noticeably. He then pressed the second fragment against another rune. The chamber vibrated subtly. Piece by piece Duncan fitted the five artifacts against the stone seal, each piece landing on a different rune. As soon as the last fragment touched the stone, the entire plinth vibrated with one heavy thrum. The runes flared intensely. A low humming sound could be heard coming from underneath the stone. Duncan stepped back and observed the ancient magic as the fragments of the weapon ignited its power. "Now," he whispered. The runes blazed hotter as the fragments ignited the seal's hidden power. Lines of crimson light flashed across the surface of the stone, connecting the symbols in a burning network. The chamber vibrated, and dust rained down from the ceiling.
One of the servants staggered backward and yelped as the hum rose to an overwhelming rumble. "My lord… what is happening?" Duncan remained silent, his eyes fixed on the center of the seal. A sharp crack ripped across the stone and echoed through the subterranean chamber like thunder. The crack sliced through the runes, splitting several symbols in two. The humming died. A pause of one beat. Then, a blast of icy air burst from the fractured seal, extinguishing half of the torches. Far above, beyond the confines of the house, beyond the sleeping city, beyond everything, the land answered to the call of the immortal. From the depths of the forests and the high peaks of the mountains, strange creatures awoke and began to stir, wolves raised their heads, hidden beasts emerged from their dens and hollow ruins, and something ancient awakened. And they felt it. And they began to move. Toward the city. Back below Duncan's house, the seal continued to shudder faintly as dark energy seeped from the crack in the stone. Duncan watched it with a satisfied smirk. The prison had not been completely destroyed, but it had been opened.
Far below the broken seal, buried beneath torchlight and time itself, a pair of eyes opened in the darkness. Abraham Van Helsing was awake. The chains holding his down shattered as he stood to his feet with the most maniac smile ever seen.