Stone Skin, Clan Cruor, #CampNaNoWriMo April

Black Death

CHAPTER Black Death

1351...

Exhausted, Lady Anjael looked down at the stone forms of the Britany clan she had sheltered with on and off since the Westernmost Cruor Clan of her mother was decimated. The sun was just past mid-afternoon as she landed. As one of only five day-walkers she worked both day and night to prepare for the coming battle. Gently, she lowered the woven pods holding several Vampyri to the ground. The heavy woven 'sacks' allowed them to rest and travel without the risk of sun-exposure. She was glad a few of the covens had joined the war. Their specie's initial refusal to fight against their cousins, the Nosferatu, had earned them many enemies until it was discovered the enemies of all that lived were not sparing the covens either.

"Lady Anjael," the grandson of the first Lycani Alpha King grinned at her as he unloaded Ouroboros' stone gargoyle.

"Greeting, King Arthuros." Glancing up at the afternoon sun, she asked, "Shall I bring a meal when I come back?"

The giant with him grinned, "Can you carry enough to meat and mead us both and the last of the Isle Avalon Coven?"

"Meat yes, mead no, I refuse to be near you or the smells you make after you've had mead, Giant Fyrllen," she refused with dramatic youthfulness, and those around them laughed then a rumble on the horizon drew everyone's attention.

Silence except for the distant thunder, they could see the dark clouds created by the twin devas helping the Black Death, as the army of their enemy was called. A cold wind rushed toward them carrying an oppressive feeling of hopelessness. They could almost hear the devouring gods whispering to them to surrender.

"Go to hell!" Anjael shrieked at darkness. "We're not afraid of you!"

"Easy, lass," Fyrllen said as a monk came up.

The human stared at the afront to his god and the devas of all the species here. His words here haunting, "And lo, the seal was broken and the sky rolled back like a scroll." He placed his hand gently on Anjael's trembling arm. "Find peace through prayer, my child. The lord will bless us with victory. His will be done."

"On earth as it is in heaven," Anjael added then she launched herself skyward toward the rear of the battle lines.

"Friar John, do you not find it odd that a Cruor worships your god and not the god or goddess of their own kind?" Arthuros asked. The lack of involvement of his father's goddess in this apocalypse disturbed him greatly.

"The Bibre Cruor have no deity to watch over them. It has been my honor and privilege to foster Anjael's faith as her teacher and confessor for the last three decades. Unlike others of the great church, I believe all who live have souls to be saved, including you and yours, wolf king." Friar John Began to set a tent up around the heavily woven pod holding the slumbering vampires. "I will be holding a Mass at sunset before the battle. Even though you serve a goddess, you may come, my son."

"Ye'll not convert me to your messiah, Friar, the goddess Brigid will watch over my people tonight," Fyrllen insisted then he went back to unloading the carts holding the petrified Cruor.

"I'll still pray for you," John called after the fifteen foot tall humanoid. Shaking his head, he turned from to the wolf, "And I will pray for you as well, young king."

"Thank you, Friar. I would like to think some god cares for my soul and answers my prayers. This evil has killed almost as many wolves as men," he sounded hopeless for one so young.

Friar John tipped his head at the Lycani. "I was born a Wicce, the holy mother of our lord called to me in the sacred grotto of the Abbey St Martin-du-canigou. I have served ever since. To serve those who would sacrifice themselves or their children comforts me because I know that they have also known suffering... Let me tell you about them."