Chapter (A Privet Army)
The troops were prepared. In the darkest hours just before dawn Lucian and some fifty other elite troops, swearing their allegiance to Baal, set out from behind the black walls. Their destination lie across the scorched earth deep in the heartland of the Hell known as Tartarus. A single boy, the distraction Baal would need to mark his ascension. To mark his place as the sole author of history's next chapter.
The Major, Lucian, took command atop one of the huge black steeds, known to the Shadow as Nightmares. Its name, Maul del Gual. It was the largest and fastest of a full imperial stable, a prize steed if ever there was one. High atop the pristine beast Lucian lead the others out of a smaller side gate away from the attention of the central forces under the guise of a support patrol.
The gate officer asked no questions. Major Lucian was an old vampire, and one who had been forged by Cain himself. Cain had transformed him from a murder and petty criminal on the streets of seventeenth century Paris into a god amongst lowly Chiral sheep. He was a fast learner and a favorite of his master. But he hadn’t always been such.
He was once a kind shoemaker with a wife, a son and two daughters. It was a Sunday after Church when the bandits had attacked. Living on the outskirts he had always been at risk, but he was unable to afford the nicer parts of the booming city and would not let his family suffer the poverty he had known in the warrens as a child.
Foolishly he had tried to stand up for what was his, what he had made from nothing. The price he paid for his courage was dire. The bandits were without pity, or remorse. They slit his son’s throat straight away, then they took their time. They methodically raped his wife and daughters, repeatedly and in front of him. While he sat bound and helpless.
The older one, Sara, who lived was taken with them when they left. He never saw her again. His wife who had struggled was killed and then raped. Lucian himself was bound and his shop burned with him inside.
They'd left him for dead. Leaving him to burn, encompassed by his shattered world. He cursed God from that day forth for allowing such atrocities to take his family from him when he had always been so loyal.
He'd set his mind and efforts both to heinous acts of vengeance, taken out on the world, and it had led the Night Father right to him. Unlike most Lucian had been turned from man to vampire with no intermediate Chiral stage, his violence and ambition had been that impressive.
The universe was not without its balance however. While vengeance alone often clouded the thoughts of the aged, the young remained pure. Sara, the surviving daughter of the attack, had been sought out by a different being. Though she never set eyes on her father again after that fateful day in early spring, under Michael's care she had become the first female High Paladin of his opposition, the Vicari.
Life is balance.
Hastily and in silence Lucian herded the heavily armored troops across the volcanic scorched earth and across the crags nearest to the palace, where no natural life dared to grow. On his orders they had emptied the stable of its finest mounts. Strong and disciplined they charged into the night. Swift hooves to carry stolen soldiers across a burnt and windless plain.
Before the sun had breached the horizon they were well concealed in the deep forests on the Eastern side of a vast mountain range known as Cerberus’ Teeth. There was a heavy morning fog in the forest and a layer of dew clung to any surface it could hold.
The bugs were rampant, but the men were well trained. Trained never to complain, and never to question orders. Every man among them knew his place, they knew what they had done, and not even Lucian questioned the Horseman on their orders.
The Chiral's elite chosen were all highly experienced soldiers. Many of whom had faced off with Vicari in battle before, with scars to prove it. They knew what their enemies were capable of, and the legends of those they hunted had not fallen on deaf ears.
This however; was no normal battle. They were being led by a Horseman, the Chiral had prior knowledge of the terrain, and they were well equip for the challenges of the land. Most importantly though, they were the hunters instead of the prey.
They were making good time and morale was high when day broke over the desert at their backs. Baal swept overhead of his troops keeping a constant vigil over his commanding officers. They belonged to him now, loyal and devoted. The thought made him smile, he teeth baring slick against the wind. Their devotion was a weakness they'd not live to regret.
Baal had his own plans, and they did not include the ranks of such lowly mortals as these. As not to warrant the wrath of the Black Lord he would make it appear as if they went rouge, slaying all those not killed in the capture of the covenant himself. The Black Lord's prize would be his and his alone.
The boy, powerful though he was, could never stand against him. Not now, not with his chains to fuel him. Wrath, Greed, Envy, Lust, Sloth, Gluttony, and Pride; all brooded well in the black depths of the once angelic figure, each eager to taste of Angelo's blood.
As he flew Baal schemed. With his thoughts secret to all but himself he made ready to claim a prize far larger than the Dark Lord's own vision would allow.
By noon they had reached the foot of the mountains where the forest began to thin and the temperature began to drop. Baal gave the men a rest, allowing them to eat and gather their strength for the cold hard mountains ahead. The path before them was not a glorious one, but it was one they would each walk without question or complaint.
“The men honor your graciousness my liege,” Lucian offered. He spoke, taking a knee and bowing before the former angel.
“Rise Bane of Man,” Baal complimented in a terrifyingly cheerful tone.
“All is well, Lord Baal we made excellent time closing the gap on our prey,” Lucian added, and it was as though he sang music to the ears of the chain-baring demon as he spoke.
“Excellent. My trust was well place in you. It is no wonder you find favor with the first of your fallen.”
Baal uncrossed his arms and left the side of his commanding officer. His boots carving out craters in the loose gravely soil as he marched away.
Lucian's elite soldiers, clad in Ash armor black as charcoal, were not the only ones making good time. On the far side of the mountains, another rushed to meet his destiny, and he was not alone. The absence of even a few troops had not gone entirely unnoticed. The Night Father, Cain himself was in search of his favorite pupil, lured away by the Black Lord’s newest puppet. Lucian still had much to discover, about the nature of his new master's prize.
