The shadows came alive behind the boar.
Before, there had been peace as the hulking beast paused to snuffle through the undergrowth. Its scarred body bore the signs of a long life of battle and violence.
It was a creature of strength.
A create of indomitable will.
It had time to blink.
That was all.
The shadows spread like wings behind the fledgling's back before spearing at the boar's body in a wave of sharp jagged points. It was as though the shadow itself had been given weight and form.
They cut through the toughened flesh as easily as a blade, sinking deep enough to slice through its heart.
Blood sprayed in all directions as it managed one shocked squeal before crashing to the ground.
Dead.
Dead without knowing what had happened.
The fledgling, his eyes shining bright with murderous glee, spun on his heels as he searched for more living things to attack. Frothing at the mouth, grin bared wide enough for his sharp fangs to seem huge within his jaws.
He lifted his head to the moon and howled loudly.
"Kill!" His roar echoed through the mountains.
"Tch," Vlad sighed as he slid out from behind the trees. He lightly slapped the smaller fledgling across the back of the head. "It is a small skill, Bally. Yet you are being so melodramatic."
The fledgling blinked, then shrank down. His shoulder hunching. "Sorry, Vlad. Hehe. I got carried away…"
"It's nothing," Vlad said, waving his hand.
In truth, he was impressed.
Bally had taken to the shadow arts like a fish to water. It had only taken a few hours for him to be able to summon shadows like a cloak around him. Vlad had only intended for Bally to be able to summon shadow energy. Not manipulate it so well.
It was an unexpected achievement.
And if he continued to learn so well, Vlad might have to call him a genius.
But Vlad didn't want it to go to the young fledgling's head. He crossed his arms and eyed the young fledgling critically. "Train harder," he growled. "I want you to summon fifteen shadow swords before we get to the tower."
Bally gulped. "Fifteen?"
"At least." He paused. "And I want you to be able to separate them. To throw them like knives. The trick is simple. You need to pinch off the flow as you throw them. Your book will tell you more detail."
"Wow," Bally looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers. "I didn't think I could do such things as this. And now you say there's more I can do…"
Vlad grunted. "This is nothing."
"You're wrong," Bally said, finding some courage to stare Vlad in the eye. "I won't forget what you gave me, Brother. I swear."
Scratching his chin, Vlad shrugged. Then patted the fledgling's head. "I just pointed the way. Your own efforts will take you as far as you want."
Bally dropped to the ground and pressed his head to the floor. "I, Ballington Bakerson, swear to serve you to the end of my life! I don't care how long it will be. I will do my best to be strong and serve loyally! Please accept my vow!"
"Bally," Vlad chuckled, squatting down and gripping him by the shoulder. "Such a vow is not necessary. You serve the Court. It is enough to remain loyal to the Court."
"Not for me."
"Such a vow can be troublesome," Vlad said. "It is like a collar. One day it will rub your neck wrong."
"I don't care," he said firmly. "Please accept my vow."
Vlad studied the young fledgling.
He considered Bally was simply overwhelmed by his new power and that gratitude was too strong.
It was not a good foundation for such a vow.
"When we get to the tower, the witches will take you in," Vlad said calmly. "With what you have learned, they will have no choice. They will keep you there for as long as it takes until they are satisfied you have learnt the shadow arts of the Court. Return to me after that if you still wish to take this vow and I will accept it. Otherwise, I am happy enough for you to serve the Court."
Bally's fingers balled into fists and he nodded heavily. "Wait for me. I will come."
"If you say so," he chuckled, getting to his feet. "Come. You have more to learn."
"Truly?"
"Yes. Do you know one of the greatest strengths of those who focus on the shadow arts?"
Bally shook his head. "Please teach me, Brother."
"Shadow arts is used by scouts. It is used by spies. And assassins. All do important work for the Court." Vlad looked out at the mountains. His mind filled with the faces of those who'd fallen during the war with the Church. "Without the information they provide, we are weak. If the Court is a blade, the shadow arts ones tell the Court when and where to strike."
"It makes sense."
"So, they need to be sneaky," Vlad grinned wolfishly. "Which you already have enough talent in. But also, they may need to run for many days…"
"Oh no."
"Up the mountain, Bally. And back. Lucy is boiling water over there. If you are not back by the time she finishes boiling, then I will motivate you to do better next time."
Once, Bally might have shot back some comment.
He might have demanded more time.
He may have whined about the pressure.
Instead, he threw himself to his feet and started racing to the trees. Only a soft groan gave any hint of his feelings.
Vlad resisted the urge to giggle an shouted; "While you are running, keep the cloak of shadows around you so nothing can see you in the dark!"
Not pausing, Bally summoned the shadowy cloak and disappeared into the trees. "Yes, Brother!"
He wouldn't make it.
There was no chance.
Vlad's mouth turned into a wide smile. But it would give him an opportunity to teach the fledgling how to merge with the shadows.
This would ensure Bally's pain and fear was high, but his gratitude would be higher.
"That was mean, Vlad," Mina said, squinting at him.
He aimed an easy stare at her, his heavy-lidded eyes making her feel uncomfortable. It would be better, she thought, if he snapped at her.
"You think so?"
"You know he'll be late. You're just using it as an excuse to hit him."
"Tch," Vlad loped over to where Lucy was pouring water into a small pot. "What do you think?"
Lucy didn't look up. "I think he should run faster."
Vlad grinned at that and turned back to Mina. "See? She understands. You should be more like Lucy."
Flushing brightly, Mina rolled her eyes. "She's just agreeing with you so you don't yell at her again."
"So?"
"So…" Mina floundered, waving her hands. "It's not right!"
"You want to be a Bride?"
"Yes! That's why we're here!"
"And you don't think they will make you run up the mountain?"
"Why would they want me to run up the mountain?"
He shook his head and kept grinning.
She was very innocent, he thought. And spoiled. She didn't have to tell him anything about her background, but he could tell it had been a privileged one.
She didn't know about struggle.
Not the kind of struggle the Brides would put her through.
Whatever crazy books she'd been reading, none of them would have told her the truth. The Brides weren't seducers. They weren't wives. They were married to the Court itself.
And, while their arts weren't as physical as Vlad's, they were still not easy.
Mina would find this out.
He wondered if she would last. In his last life, many women came from all over the world to get the chance to be taken into the Brides.
But few were able to endure long enough to be accepted.
Those who failed might become servants or accessories in the world at large.
Lucy watched Vlad out of the corner of her eye. Outwardly, she tried to maintain disinterest in what he was doing. But inwardly, she couldn't take her eyes off him.
While Mina might be confused by what they were heading into, Lucy had no such illusions. What she hadn't told Vlad was that she had spent many nights in the Crimson Drop talking to Harriet, who had regaled her with tales of the torturous training the Brides went through.
At first, she hadn't believed the bartender's wild stories.
But then, one night, she'd come to find a delicate female vampire sitting at the bar. Dressed in a beautiful and elegant dress of pure white.
Sipping a long glass of blood.
And, as Lucy entered, the vampire had turned to her.
Eyes sparkling.
She looked beautiful. Deadly. And the shadows around her seemed to be alive.
Her lip had curled into a smile of cheerful cruelty and Lucy felt herself drawn to the vampire like a moth to the flame.
She wanted to meet her.
Wanted to speak to her.
Wanted to be her.
But then the vampire waved and disappeared in an ethereal puff of smoke which left her standing stunned and alone in the bar with Harriet, who simply nodded to confirm she'd just seen a Bride for the first time in her life.
In that moment, Lucy had known this was a Bride.
And resolved to become one herself no matter the cost.
Vlad's words didn't scare her. His grin didn't frighten her.
Instead, they excited her.