Fey Fyre (Part 18)

                Stephen sat in the parlor, waiting for Damien to make his entrance. His calm demeanor a symbol of the control that he had over every part of his being. He watched Feverstone pace back and forth across the antique carpet. This was the moment that they had been waiting for and Stephen was determined to relish every second of it.

                “Calm yourself.” Stephen said, “Everything that I have planned is falling into place. We will soon have all of our rewards for the hard work that we have done.”

                Feverstone stopped and locked his gaze with Stephen finally.

“Master, why are we doing this?” Feverstone replied. “Surely you are the one who has been fated to wield the dark sword.”

                Stephen rose from his seat with unseen effort and struck Feverstone across the face and knocked him to the floor.

                “You will never speak that way again in regards to the heir, especially in his own hive.” Stephen hissed. “Your services to the Demon Son and myself has earned you much, but it will not protect you from my wrath if you continue with such impertinence.”

                Stephen’s attention was suddenly drawn to the doorway as he heard Damien clapping.

                “It is good to see that you have lost none of your ruthless loyalty that Father has always prized so highly.” Damien said as he walked into the room. “Please Stephen allow him to rise. It can be understood how his loyalty to you might have misled him in his judgment.”

                Feverstone rose up and presented himself before Damien on his knees.

                “Please forgive my failings, Heir to the Demon Son.” Feverstone said. “I did not wish to disrespect you in such a way.”

                Damien continued his conversation with Stephen, intentionally ignoring Feverstone prostrate at his feet.

                “So I had been informed that you have news for me that bodes well for our cause.” Damien said. “What is this miraculous turn of events?”

                Stephen turned to the case that had been carefully placed in front of the chair that Stephen had been occupying.  With reverence he slowly lower the case on to its side and opened it. The precision of Stephen’s movements mesmerized Damien. In the centuries that they had fought side by side Damien had never known him to place any value to material objects. Finally folding back the clothe lining the case Damien saw it for the first time. So enraptured by what he witnessed Damien did not realize at first that Stephen was speaking.

                “In the bowels of Mt. Vesuvius Mulsiber learned and perfected his art of crafting the finest metals in the world. And from them the weapons of the green bloods were made.” Stephen recited. “However when the Dark Lady came and granted him the visions; he knew he must follow them. Four swords were to be created Two of brightest Silver and Two of blackest Steel. These were to be the weapons at the fore of the battle when the day came for the Vampire race to face off against the Fey for the fate of the world.”

                Slowly Stephen lifted the dark blade from its cocoon.

                “Mulsiber did not have the skills to create them himself, and so he found the greatest sword maker throughout the centuries and to him he supplied the materials and to the northern banks of Shawmut they went to craft the madman’s dream.”

                Stephen held the blade out to his lord master allowing him to take the pommel in his hand.

                “But Mulsiber and the Human were betrayed and all of the swords were lost. Some believed they were legend and never existed at all, others claimed that they would once again be found and the day would come that the final battle between the Fey and Vampire races would begin.”

                Damien drew the sword and held it over his head, examining every inch in the gas lights around the room. The amazing metal seemed to absorb and reflect all light at once.

                  “This, my children, is the sign that we have hoped for, this is the sign that the time is right and we will march forward into our victory.” Damien pronounced. “Together we will crush the leaf eaters and spread our control over the entire globe.”

                For the first time since Stephen had revealed the sword Damien turned towards Feverstone and looked down on the underling kneeling before him.

                “You have performed the ultimate service in the name of the Demon Son, and when we have achieved our victory we shall never forget your sacrifice.” Damien pronounced.

                Bringing the dark blade down in a graceful arc, Damien severed Feverstone’s head from his body with the casualest of moves.   

                “Please remove the remains, burn them.” Damien said, “And Bathory, please by a little surer of the loyalty of those that you bring before me next time.”

                Stephen watched with well hidden contempt as the Heir to the Demon Son took the blade and exited the room.

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