When Vlad had joined the Court as a young fledgling in his first lifetime, Dolls had been plentiful. It was difficult to walk around without seeing one. Their main purpose was to provide willing blood to vampires of the Court.
It was basically a simple way to gain entrance to the Court's structure.
What attracted them to this was the financial reward and the opportunity to perhaps join the Court in the future. Some might be selected as Brides. Others as fledglings, depending on their suitability.
If they couldn't, or didn't want, to be Turned, they might become servants in other ways. Many Renfields had been Dolls at one stage.
It was a shock to Vlad in this time that there wasn't even a single Doll remaining in the castle.
These three Dolls had come from far away. They were in Bistritz when Roland had put out word that the court was looking for Dolls once more.
It was a rare opportunity.
Rumours had spread that the Court might be recovering from its long suffocation. There were positions available. Any who became Dolls today might rise in the future to positions of power and influence.
For some, such as Tilla, this was very enticing. It was a chance to gain power in a world reluctant to give it.
Vlad had no doubt she would rise. The Court he had seen had very little in the way of internal politics.
On one hand that sounded pleasant.
But on the other, it made the Court weak. Without the skill to use words as a weapon, how could the Court hope to combat foes with swords for mouths?
In negotiations, the Court would fail.
He considered himself an arm of the Court. But it would be the minds which would lead it in the future.
Passing through the gates of the castle, he noted the fledglings gathered in the courtyard. They were moving in unison.
First step.
Repeatedly over and over.
At the back of their ranks, a new face practiced with intense focus.
Katalin.
Her movements were fluid and strong. She showed as much potential as Tibor and Jenos. But her execution of the move was lacking. It was not entirely her fault. She was learning from her fellow students, some of whom also struggled to understand basic concepts.
Not all of them would master the sword.
Some would learn the weapon of the mouth.
And the others would work between.
This was the way of the Court.
Sighing, Vlad's glittering eyes swept across the fledglings, marking those with promise. Those with value.
He would give them extra beatings today.
It would make them strong.
As he took his first steps towards them, they became aware of his presence and shuddered as one.
"Tch," Vlad growled at them. "Do you call this training? Useless bastards. Run up the mountain two times."
Only Katalin hesitated, shocked by the sudden instruction.
She glanced down at her stick.
Then at the backs of the fledglings running for the mountain.
Then at Vlad, a slight questioning look on her face.
"The last ones to come down give me their sticks," he told her calmly.
"Huh?"
"Then I beat them with it."
"Really?"
He nodded, eyes glinting. "And I do not stop until they cannot breathe."
"That sounds painful."
"It is." He watched her for a few moments more, then let his lips pull back into a cruel grin that showed all his fangs clearly. "You are being very slow."
"What? You want me to run with them?"
"Are you here to learn?"
"That's what I came here for…"
"You are not doing very well. Give me your stick now. We will save the time it will take for you to run up and down the mountain twice."
She blinked at him.
Then back to the mountain.
"Shit." She began sprinting after the fledglings. She didn't feel much concern. She could always merge with the shadows. It would get her up and down faster than they could.
As her body pulled shadow energy into her veins, she heard Vlad's voice snap at her; "And if you use that shadow bullshit, I'll beat you twice!"
What?
How did he know?
He was supposed to be a fledgling! How could he even see her shadow energy?
Gulping, she released the energy.
The fledglings were well ahead.
Wincing, she wondered if she was going to be beaten so soon. How humiliating!
Watching the woman run, Vlad relaxed his smile into a calm expression which showed nothing of his thoughts.
Flicking his gaze to a nearby doorway, he nodded. "I see you."
Lucy and Mina trotted into the courtyard. It was Lucy who spoke. "We were wondering when we would be taken to see the Brides."
"Impatient, is it?"
"N-n-no. Just…"
He waved a hand. "It's understandable. But tonight is inconvenient. There are some people arriving soon. They need to be settled." He felt the disappointment from the two women. Scratching his armpit, he let out a sigh. "Two night. We will leave in two nights straight after the sun sets."
"Really?" Mina's eyes lit up. "You promise, Vlad?"
He nodded. "I'll take you to the witches then."
The two women giggled happily. The sound wasn't unpleasant and reminded him of his Brides in his previous life. He'd had three of them.
Elizabeth Bathory.
Mircalla Karnstein.
And the first love of his life, Countess Clarimonde Dolingen.
Their faces swam through his memory, touching his heart in a way nothing else ever had.
The cursed Pope and his Church had taken too much from him.
With a heavy sigh, Vlad turned away to look back up the mountain. The fledglings were racing with all their might. None wanted to be last.
And, with all the emotions raging through Vlad in that moment, he almost pitied the ones who were.
Galosh shoved Metto out of the way as he scampered up the tight path.
"Hey!" Metto shrieked. "What'd you do that for?"
"Sorry, Brother! But I got hit yesterday. It's not my turn today!"
"But-"
Piers swept past Metto, his arms flapping as he kept balance. Falling down the mountain from this height would be painful. But not as painful as Vlad's beatings.
"Watch out," Piers hissed.
"What is this bullshit?" Metto howled. "You bastards are trying to kick me to the back?"
"Move, Metto!" Ist shoved him in the back. "Or get out of the way!"
"Stop wasting your breath," Galosh called over his shoulder.
"You guys are bastards," Metto muttered.
Then yelped as someone else shoved him against the side of the mountain. Hard. He almost bounced right off and out into space. Cartwheeling to keep himself from slipping, he shouted; "Hey! Useless bastard! I'll-"
He got no further.
A pair of crimson eyes focused on him with an intensity that made him squirm.
"You'll do what, fledgling?"
"Knight Katalin," he croaked. "Umm… I didn't mean…"
She patted his cheek. "You should run, little fledgling."
Then she was gone.
Shooting past the others as though the path was simply an inconvenience for her feet to touch. Even Tibor let out a shocked squawk as she passed him easily.
"Sorry, Metto," Ist sighed, sliding past Metto's shocked form. "But you're slow tonight."
"Slow?" Metto gawped at Ist's back. "You bastards!"
He looked over his shoulder.
No one else was there.
"What? I'm last?" He felt a cold chill work up his spine. "This is bullshit!"
Turning, he sprinted after them. His foot slipped, but he just kept going. He had to catch up to them.
Had to get past them fast!
Or else…
…Metto lay on his side, clutching his belly. His back was a mass of bruises and his face, pressed to the dirt, was swollen and drooling blood.
"Bastards," he slurred.
Vlad glanced down at him before dropping the stick down beside him. Then, eyeing the shameful-looking fledglings, he found a bench and sat on it.
Stared at them for a few moments before speaking.
"What are you learning from me?"
"The Black Dragon Sword Art!" Katalin answered loudly.
He nodded. It was she who answered as he'd expected.
"Do any of you know what the Black Dragon Sword Art truly is? What it means to the Court?"
"Ummm…" Katalin glanced at the others. "It is strength?"
"Tch." He rolled his shoulders and pulled the long sword off his shoulder. Driving it into the ground, he pointed at it. "This is a Great Sword. It's long. Heavy. And looks useless. Only vampires have the strength to carry and use it properly. But the sword itself is useless. What matters is the material. The steel. Why?"
Blank looks returned to him.
"Are you bastards all so useless?" Vlad asked. "Tibor. How many sticks have you used this week?"
"I lost count," Tibor answered truthfully and without shame.
"Jenos?"
"Same."
"Why?"
"Because they explode?"
Vlad stared at Jenos. Waiting.
Until Jenos frowned. "Oh. I see. The blood energy. It is too strong for simple materials."
"That's right. What does that say about the sword?"
Silence answered him as the fledglings struggled to find the right answer in his head.
"The sword is a tool," a smooth voice said from the back. "It is just a thing to channel our energies."
Everyone turned in shock.
"Elder Laszlo," Tibor greeted the newcomer. The other fledglings shouted the same in unison.
Vlad simply cocked his head. "This is the right of it."
"Then, why this sword?" Elder Laszlo asked, genuinely curious. "Why not a mace?"
Vlad didn't hide his distaste. "Foul Turkish bullshit," he snarled. Then shook his head. "All of you sit like children. Sit!"
The fledglings fell to their backsides obediently.
Katalin followed suit quickly.
She was learning.
Elder Laszlo stayed on his feet.
Vlad stared at him, no emotion showing.
Then, to the shock of everyone, Elder Laszlo sat in the dirt.
Nodding, Vlad took a deep breath.
"It is time to tell you about the Black Dragon Great Sword Art and its beginning."