Dragon Knights Fan Fiction ❯ My Immortal ❯ Deliberation ( Chapter 7 )

AN: Isn't “de-” such an interesting prefix? Yes, I really do have way too much fun... Was written under the influence of a lethal vodka of The Pit and the Pendulum and British comedy, you were warned. At least it's a longer chapter, at last! By the by, I know this is horrible writing but I don't know when I'll ever get to fitting this in, so an `Ancient' is a vampire that was born that way, rather than one who was born human and bitten.

 

blackcat686: Thanks, I'm glad you like it :)

 

Turtle Kid: I'm glad that you're glad ;) And, wrong on all counts, evil!cackle. But don't worry, you'll find out by the end of this chapter...

 

Ronin-N-Gang: (blushie) Yes, sorry about that. I think this one is at least a little longer... But I'm glad you liked it anyway, and I hope you like this one even more ;)

 

Chizz-muffinChik: (grin) So glad you liked that Tetheus made an appearance, especially since... (cough-he's-gonna-be-a-central-character-in-the-sequel-cough) Argh, it's too soon to be mentioning that, I haven't even started writing it yet, what am I thinking...? (sweats) But in any case, the reason that Kharl was telling Rath about how vampires are killed... heh, basically it was because he had it on his mind, and that's all I'm saying...

 

Vaguely Downwards: Okay, you can be an evil deviant if you want to (I, for instance, would consider this to be entirely complimentary), but you're not horrible, promise ;) Even without having go-exchange in my life, I can understand this whole lack of free time thing... But this isn't to say that I'm not excited about the concept of more regular comments from you, (bounces up and down like she just ate a cheesecake) Hee, `crazyhead' is the title I regularly go by, didn't you know? (Because, for my part, I'm constantly trying to convince everyone, my parents in particular, that I'm actually only twelve). XD Also, I am extremely glad that my vampires haven't turned out pale or at all seeming like they might be inclined to wear tulle, and I only hope they still seem that way after the end of this chapter... Additionally glad that you like the description of the whole Changing process, and you are probably right about that typo, blushie. Though, hee, the one you should be praising for the name `Tetheus' is Mineko Ohkami-sensei, not me; he's not an original character. In fact, none of the named characters in this fic are. In other words, yes, Dragon Knights has a loooooooot of characters...

 

P.S.: Just for you, I confirmed it; that line should be credited to the almighty Koneko Cain/Koneko Shido (she used to go by Koneko Cain before she was booted, those coughbastardscough, if I remember right). It was something I nicked from her bio on her website, the link to which is in my bio on this site, if you can find it in all that mess...

 

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Chapter Seven: Deliberation

 

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A week passed before his trial. Kharl had nothing much to do but think in this time, and the more he thought, the more certain he became that they had given him so much time for just this purpose, to torment him.

 

It didn't help that his surroundings were abysmally boring. He became certain that he hadn't had such a boring week in millennia. He was only able to keep day and night straight by the cycle of his Changes. Plain white walls faced him wherever he looked - along with a plain white ceiling and floor - and the bed had white sheets. It was admittedly a step above a torch-lit, stone-walled, dripping dungeon, but he was a prominent political figure. They could have at least given him a TV, he thought grumpily in between more serious musings.

 

And these musings were the source of his real trouble, of course. Simply put, the harder he looked at his case, the more hopeless it appeared. He couldn't stop himself from wondering what his sentence might be. If he was lucky, it would probably be quite a lot more time in a place like this, and just the thought was enough to drive him half-crazy. He severely doubted that he would be particularly unlucky, or he wouldn't have allowed himself to be brought here, but you never could be certain...

 

All this was very horrible, of course, but the one thought that tortured him the most was the one that nagged at the back of his mind even when he was trying to pretend to be thinking about other things. He had known that this was probably going to happen, after all, and that few sentences could be worse than becoming a fugitive and having the entire vampire world hunting him. So he'd been trying to get the boy as irritated with him as possible, but it had been too hard, and he hadn't had as much time as he'd been expecting...

 

But on the day of his trial, as he paced he cell impatiently, Kharl tried to look on the bright side. If they let him go free, then there would be no harm done. And if not, then he would probably be locked up until long after the boy grew old and died, and therefore it would be none of his concern. For some reason this made him feel very... very...

 

As he was just about to discard that entire train of thought before it became even more uncomfortable, his door was opened without warning. Suddenly he found himself being hustled along, with a guard at either elbow, through corridors that seemed shadowy even to the eyes of a fully awakened vampire...

 

“You could have at least knocked,” Kharl said crossly. One of his escorts grunted.

 

Eventually the hallway opened, cave-like, into a gargantuan chamber lit only by a scant number of distant candles, and Kharl narrowly resisted rolling his eyes. They had caught him in a bad mood, he realized vaguely, but surely anyone would have to admit that the effect was rather over-done. A row of seats somewhere far above him held the shadowy figures of the Council - it would've been rather more imposing if he hadn't known who they all were - along with the aforementioned candles, which under-lit the Members' faces just a little too little to make them identifiable. There were no seats down below so he was forced to stand, and when his guards faded into the shadows, Kharl was left all alone in the formless void save for that distant island of lights.

 

After a little bit he tried yawning loudly. He was just beginning to think it hadn't worked, when someone finally said, “Lord Kharl of the Ancients... As you probably know, you have been called here before a council of your peers to determine just retribution for your act of destroying twenty-two mortals in violation of the highest codes of our society. It appears to the Council that you preformed these condemnable acts with little or no warrant, and after deliberation we have concluded that, unless you can convince us otherwise, steps will have to be taken.”

 

Kharl shook his head in distaste. “There's no need to be so formal, Lord Shydeman,” he said, and was please by the brief buzz of startled whispers from above. “I don't see why you're all so amazed; I've know you all for ages upon ages, as you have known me. Do you really think I'd violate the codes without a reason?”

 

“That's what we're here to determine, isn't it?” a silky female voice countered.

 

Kharl sighed dramatically, feigning hurt. “If you insist, Lady Shyrendora...” He smiled charmingly. “Of course I understand that my actions were transgressions of the highest degree; nevertheless, I'm sure that if you just examine the case, you'll find that it's pretty clear-cut. The boys I `destroyed' were murderers themselves, and-”

 

“Prove it,” the first voice snapped.

 

Kharl arched an eyebrow. “As I stated previously, these individuals lived as a crude group of rogues existing outside their own society; they lived like animals-”

 

“That's no proof,” Shyrendora sneered.

 

“Let him speak,” a voice Kharl recognized as Tetheus's said, soft yet commanding, but he was drowned out by the rising muttering of the other Council Members.

 

“I demand the names of the humans they killed!”

 

“You can't even tell us your victims' names!”

 

“I can't,” Kharl admitted softly. “But why don't you tell me how you know they didn't kill anyone?”

 

“The burden of proof doesn't rest with us,” Shyrendora snapped.

 

Kharl waved his hand dismissively. “Then it shouldn't rest with me, either. I can tell you that I killed them to rescue a boy they were tormenting, and whom I have definite reason to believe they planned to rape and murder; isn't that reason enough?”

 

“One life doesn't equal twenty-two,” Shydeman said coldly.

 

He'd known it was a bad day for this from the outset. It wasn't like there was anything he could've done about it, but still... they really shouldn't have kept him locked up so long... “Who are you to decide that?” he shouted, with a suddenness that caused more surprised muttering. “Why would you rather have twenty-two criminals over one pure person?”

 

“You never even convinced us that those twenty-two were all criminals,” Shydeman said in disgusted tones. “And to what pure person do you refer? Your little pet is a murderer too!”

 

Kharl glared, and tried to force down the feeling of shame rising out of the pit of his stomach. “He's not my `pet',” he hissed. “And he only killed to save himself; he never wanted to, and he regrets it now - it haunts him -”

 

Shyrerndora laughed raucously. “Oh, please. It's already clear to us how emotionally involved you are, and yet you are willing to incriminate yourself further? How unbecoming, especially of an Ancient... How about some questions you can answer - why are you protecting this boy? How could you let him live after revealing your true nature to him? Why did you kiss him?”

 

Kharl was a bit surprised when the little spark inside him went out just like that. He bowed his head to the rising laughter. “Is kissing a crime in our society now?” he murmured. “It's not as if he'll tell anyone...” `Emotionally involved'? Huh... I hadn't realized I was... that pathetic...

 

“You can't know that he won't!” Shydeman bellowed. “If you have nothing further to say, I propose to declare this trail closed.” Up in the gloom, he smirked. “I further recommend that Lord Kharl of the Ancients be given a sentence that reflects his love of mortal society, and be put to death!”

 

“I object!” Tetheus shouted. “I don't believe we've heard conclusive evidence either way! And what is the purpose of this council without a vote?”

 

Shyrendora scoffed. “Listen to them, brother,” she commanded, and it was true that the rising, heated babble sounded overwhelmingly positive. “There's your vote. We've heard enough!”

 

In the row of seats above, one shadowy figure stood, wings spread wide in agitation. “Lord Kharl, do you have anything further to testify?”

 

Kharl simply stared up at the man with wide eyes. He felt overwhelmed, all of a sudden; his world was shifting most uncooperatively under his feet... His vision seemed to be blurring in shock at it all; nevertheless, he could've sworn he saw Tetheus' hand fly up to cover his face as rough hands grabbed his arms again... Shydeman and Shyredora were certainly not his closest friends, but it had been so long - he had been sure that they could not be his enemies, either... It wasn't supposed to go like this... At the door back into the halls, his clarity returned just long enough for him to realize where he was being taken, and he struggled, but a pair of razor-sharp fangs sank into his neck straight away. He shrieked in rage, struggling all the more, but a vampire can drain a body of every drop of blood in an amazingly short time, after all. It was really only a matter of seconds before his world began to fade away...

 

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To anyone watching, Rune would've looked like a perfectly ordinary teenage boy totally at peace with the world. His room was a bit cleaner than that of an ordinary young boy, true, but surely that wasn't a fault. He lay in bed on top of the covers with headphones on, eyes closed and head bobbing slightly to the music.

 

No one would have guessed that he was thinking about how his best friend had broken down in his arms.

 

It had been after school that it'd happened; Rath had said that he wanted help studying for an Art class test that was coming up, but apparently what he really wanted was a shoulder to cry on. The most frustrating part, Rune reflected, was that he hadn't really told him a thing.

 

Of course, Rune had naturally been fooled at first, and had diligently gone through all the various elements and principles asking if this or that made sense. Rath's answers, he soon found, were disjointed and distant, and the blond boy was soon prompted to ask primly if Rath wanted his help or not. And Rath had blinked at him in amazement, as if he'd forgotten where he was.

 

Rune remembered sighing irritably at that point. “Okay, what's wrong?”

 

“...Wrong?”

 

He'd rolled his eyes at that. “Come on, Rath, I know you're upset about something. You've been upset about something for days. Give it up.”

 

After a moment or two, the other boy had laughed nervously. “Oh, well... It's no big deal. Just... You know that tutor I have? You met him once, right? Well, I really hated him at first, but I guess he... kind of grew on me. He's a pretty good guy, actually. I guess you could say we're... friends, of course we're friends.” It occurred to Rune that Rath seemed to have forgotten he had an audience again already; he was undeniably talking to his hands in his lap. “It's just, now that I've finally started to get used to him, he's stopped coming around. He hasn't even called my parents to say why or anything, but he was acting really funny the last time I saw him.” Rath looked up then, and Rune was shocked speechless by the vulnerability on his face - he looked like someone else, and about ten yeas younger than he actually was. “He was talking about dying, Rune; why would he talk to me about dying?”

 

And of course there was nothing Rune could possibly have said to that, so instead he got to see Rath cry for the first time ever, great messy sobs muffled in his chest...

 

Rune sighed to himself. After a moment he opened his eyes, and pulled his headphones off. Then he sat up, stretched, and went over to his bookcase with a deliberate air.

 

A casual observer would've done a double take at finding this bookshelf in a teenager's room. It spanned the whole wall, and there wasn't a cheap paperback to be found - every book was regal and ancient-looking; some appeared to be threatening to crumble into dust. Rune handled them with a familiarity that most boys his age wouldn't display towards any book, however, as he methodically searched though several volumes. Eventually he seemed to find what he was looking for, and carried the tome back to bed with him.

 

He read a page carefully - he seemed to read it several times, in fact - and then he nodded to himself, and flipped his headphones back on. His eyes slid shut, and at first the aforementioned casual observer might have thought he was singing along with the song, under his breath, but if they listened a little closer they would've found that the words he was muttering weren't in any language known to man...

 

His name is Kharl. He's in trouble, and I think he might be a vampire... Find him.

 

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AN: Ick. The trial sucked, didn't it? But I had to. C'mon, be brutal. O.O Um... er... well, that is... Cackle, though, isn't Rune great? Hopefully this will go over well, seeing as how it was an act of genius that took three minds to come up with...