Grayson's Veil

Eilif walked down the center aisle of the throne room. The worn down red and gold carpet muffled the echoes of his foot falls in the vast room.

Red and gold tapestries hung on the stone walls; symbols stamped into them to show off alliances from the previous owners. There were six on each side, spaced enough to be able to examine each one at a comfortable walking pace.

On the opposite end of the entrance stood a high dais with three sets of stairs, two on each side and one in the front. The dais and stairs were carved from black onyx stone, giving off a beautiful shine from the tall braziers lining the walls.

On top of the dais, stood two throne chairs, one unusually large and a smaller one. They were made from silver, with intricate designs of leaves, vines and skulls carved into the backs of them. The smaller one had a deep red cushion on it, making it more comfortable for the Queen. The larger one did not have any cushions on it, making it a reminder to the King that he can never be comfortable while running a kingdom.

Over the thrones hung a large, black sheer fabric that tumbled all the way to the floor. They acted as a cover for the King and Queen, so no one may fully see their faces.

But alas, the seats were empty. The Queen has hated the thrones ever since the demise of her King.

In front of the dais, was a large circular table. The wood was scuffed up and dented from many fists beating it and blades striking it.

This was their strategy room. Long gone the beautiful throne room that held ceremonies and granted audiences. In its place an area to challenge and plan raids.

Eilif glanced to the sides that had chairs lining the stone walls, all holding a high-standing Lamia. Each of them stood and bowed or curtsied as he passed. Their feed, or pets, were sitting at their feet naked as the day they were born. Many had a collar on with a leash attached, while the more disciplined ones sat on their master’s lap with a tattoo of the house sigil on their chest.

Some of the women batted their lashes and smiled, whipping out their feathered fan or cracking their training whip to try to get his attention. He was considered a very important Lamia bachelor in need of a wife. The event to become his bride was tiresome and annoying. Blood has been spilt, gossip has been spread to ruin each other’s name, and some had even resorted to outright begging. None of which worked, Eilif considered the Lamia women shallow and boring.

The men scowled at him, a few opened their mouths to expose their fangs as a threat. Their jealousy and hatred were practically oozing by the time Eilif reached the table. Their hatred was warranted, Eilif had overthrown many of them to get to the top. Many of them claimed he did it unfairly.

‘Pathetic, sniveling fools. None are fit for the council or their title except for me,’ He smiled at his thoughts, then let out a loud growl at the disrespect he was receiving.

All the Lamia’s bowed their heads in response, the smell of their fear permeated the air. Eilif decided to make a show of dramatically breathing in the fear and relishing in it.

Camilla, Lamashtu, and the lycans were waiting at the table, each had a wine glass filled with what could only be human blood. The smell and the way the liquid clung to the side when tilted gave it away.

As Eilif sat down, a servant hurriedly gave him a glass and poured him a drink. The pitiful human almost missed the glass due to his intense shaking.

Once the servant left with an awkward bow, Eilif scanned the table.

Carmilla was seated next to him, her pet curled up at her feet sleeping.

Lamashtu and the two men sat across from them. Each staring at Eilif with little patience.

“Carmilla, Lamashtu, where is our Queen?” Eilif asked, sitting at the Council table, spinning the goblet by its stem.

Carmilla glanced at Eilif out of the corner of her eye. “What makes you think she is still alive?”

Eilif lifted an eyebrow. “Did you kill her?”

Lamashtu glared at the two Lamia’s across from her. “Yes, she is dead. No, Carmilla did not kill her. I did.”

They stared at Lamashtu with mild shock on their faces.

It was not unheard of that a Lamia wanted their long life to end. The real shock of it was Lamashtu, the most loyal out of the council, ending the Queen.

“You did? I thought she just finally turned to dust after being so old and alone.” Carmilla chuckled, impressed that her sibling could do such a thing.

“Why?” Eilif questioned, curiosity seeping through his words.

Lamashtu rolled her eyes. “She asked me to. She did not want to live another century without her beloved.”

Silence enveloped the room as everyone bowed their head, each of them remembering their King and Queen fondly.

Carmilla was the first to break the silence. “Oh well, she was getting too soft anyways. So tell me, why am I here?”

The sandy brown-haired man spoke up. “We need the help of the Council to decide what we should do about the Demons we are finding.”

There were gasps and outrage cries sounding throughout the room. The high-standing Lamia’s were not aware of this nor were they happy about not being informed immediately.

Lamashtu stood and raised her hand up to silence the noise. “You will be silent throughout this meeting, or I will rip your heads off!” The muscles in her arms bulged as her hands clenched, making her threat all the more real.

One senseless Lamia stood up. “This is an outrage! You tell us we have to remain silent even though there are dangers lurking about? You? A woman?”

He looked around the room. “We have every right to know of these dangers, yet these women do nothing! I will not blindly follow them any longer, especially one of whom murdered our Queen! Who is with me?!” Murmurs of agreement echoed throughout the room.

Eilif stifled a chuckle.

Lamashtu relaxed her hands and straightened her back. “What is your name?” She asked calmly.

The Lamia put his hands behind his back and tilted his chin up. “I am Baron Williams.”

Nodding her head at him, Lamashtu began to slowly walk around the table.

“You seem very against my sister and I’s involvement. How would you deal with these dangers? Please, enlighten me. Perhaps you can replace me if all here deem the solution adequate.”

Baron Williams beamed at the offer.

“We should attack immediately. If there is even a whiff of a Demon it should be exterminated right away, to show we will not tolerate their existence on our side of the Veil. This is our territory, and they need to know they are not welcomed!”

Many of the Lords and Ladies applauded and voiced their support. The smart ones stayed silent, watching Lamashtu as she stepped in front of the Baron with ease.

Even with bare feet, Lamashtu was taller than him.

“What an astonishing proposal. Now tell me, have you met a Demon?”

The Baron’s eyebrows furrowed. “Well, no.”

“Then how do you know that will work? How can you make a plan without knowing your enemy?” Lamashtu’s calm was causing many of the Lamia’s to shift in their seats uncomfortably.

“We have fought them before. A war long ago that has been documented that we can rely on,” sweat beaded on his forehead.

Lamashtu hummed in agreement. “Would you like to meet one?”

The Baron’s face paled at the question. “Wh-what?”

“We have one here as prisoner. Let’s bring it in, it is not a problem.” Lamashtu snapped her fingers.

The doors opened after several seconds.

A dark creature slowly crept forward.

The room seemed to be frozen in time and in temperature as everyone gazed upon it.

It was incredibly tall, taller than the Lamia’s in the room. Many had to lift their heads up to look at its face. It walked on all fours, with its front legs considerably longer than the back. Instead of paws, it had small hands, which looked very odd compared to the rest of it. When the demon walked, the hands curled then spread as it took another step, like a duck’s webbed feet when they walked.

It deliberately moved slowly, like the task was almost too great. It had a heavy collar on with four chains attached to it. Four servants each held a chain as they guided the Demon further into the room.

What was most unsettling about the creature was its face.

It had smooth and soft-like features; the skin so taunt that it did not move. It mostly resembled a doll mask. Gigantic red eyes looked curiously around the room, not showing any hint of fear within its depths.

It chittered almost childlike.

Eilif suppressed a shiver at the sound. He knew this demon’s nature. They portrayed a young, innocent mind. But that was their lure. It gave a false sense of safety then pounced once it knew it had you.

A loud gulp broke the trance everyone was in and drew the attention of the Demon.

Lamashtu turned to the Baron. “Well? You think we should exterminate it immediately, correct? Be my guest.” She stepped aside so the Demon could look the Baron in the eyes.

The Baron seemed frightened at first, but then remembered he was trying to secure a spot on the council. So, he cleared his throat, straightened his cravat and bared his fangs in a hiss.

The Demon tilted its head in response, gingerly lifting one of its front legs.

Growling now, the Baron did not move. He felt safe since there was a considerable amount of space between them.

He bent his legs, ready to pounce on the Demon.

Lamashtu stood bored on the side, while Eilif and Carmilla watched with interest. The scene in front of them reminded Eilif of a lion preparing to kill a Giraffe. Could it work? Possibly. Only one way to find out.

The Baron roared as he leapt at the Demon, only to be caught by the throat and slammed against the stone wall.

His head severed at the impact.

The thump of the head hitting the ground made the Demon screeched in delight. It quickly grabbed the Lamia’s head and started tossing it around like a kitten would with a ball of yarn. That was the other unsettling thing about those demons, they played with the body parts before consuming them.

Chuckling, Lamashtu snapped her fingers again. The servants began to round up the creature the best they could.

After several minutes of tugging at the creature’s collar, Lamashtu allowed the Demon to take the body. It was hungry, and most likely bored, so she thought it deserved a treat for performing so well.

“Anyone else?” She asked the room.

A trembling hand rose in the fear heavy air.

“Lady Lamashtu?” a soft quivering voice spoke.

Lamashtu raised a brow at the formality but nodded at the terrified Lamia.

The Lamia was a young girl in her teenage years. Her parents hushed her, but she ignored them and stood up from her chair. She bowed a curtsey which almost made her fall over.

After she composed herself, a flush crawled up her pale skin. “If I may ask, my Lady, why do you have a Demon here?” Her fingers twisted in her hands in a nervous way.

Lamashtu smiled at the girl. “So brave aren’t we young one?”

The girl’s blush deepened.

“It is for research. It is important to understand our enemy, not just blindly attack like that fool,” Lamashtu’s eyes flashed with anger, but settled down when she regarded the young Lamia again. “Even if we have just the one, we are better for the knowledge. Do you not agree?”

The girl seemed to take in the information with great care. She nodded her head when her eye’s showed satisfaction and sat down.

Lamashtu rounded back to her seat and sat down. “Now, where were we? Oh yes, the Demons.”

Crossing her arms, Carmilla clicked her tongue in annoyance. “While that was a wonderful display of power, dear sister, I am leaving.”

Lamashtu slammed her fist against the table, making the old thick wood splinter and crack loudly. “Dammit Carmilla! Listen to these lycans! They are our eyes and ears out there, not to mention our protectors. If they say Demons are about then we need to be prepared!”

Carmilla stared at her long gold-colored nails, not showing an ounce of emotion at the outburst. “I am not doubting the smelly dogs report, I just do not care. The Demons are barely a threat to us.” She motioned to the council members at the table.

Eilif tapped his fingers on the broken table. “What have you seen, exactly?”

The two men from earlier were sitting on either side of Lamashtu. The silver haired one spoke first, “Our men from the south have been reporting demons hiding amongst the humans. On occasion, we would find one of our kind completely gutted and gagged with wolfsbane herbs, only the Demons have been known to kill like that.”

Carmilla scoffed. “You don’t think humans are capable of gutting and sticking a plant into those flea-ridden bodies?”

The two men growled at the insult.

Lamashtu put a hand on each man’s shoulder. “Ignore my foolish sister. Even if she does not show it, deep down she is concerned.”

Carmilla gave her sister a glowered look.

“Do your informants know what type of Demons they are? Low-level shadow demons? Succubuses? Soldiers?” Eilif asked as he lifted his glass to his lips.

The sandy blond spoke, “There seem to be a mix of all Demons popping through the Veil. We have never encountered so many in our lifetime.”

Lamashtu lifted a brow. “When and where did this start happening?”

“Approximately two weeks ago and south of the mountain.”

Eilif stiffened, his eyes widening slightly in surprise.

“There was a church that burned down a few days ago, it held the infamous priest and his nun Sister Jane. They were nowhere to be found, possibly burnt up in the fire. Upon closer inspection, some of my lycans picked up the scent of two Demons and a familiar. One Demon we believe is a general, the other we cannot place.” The sandy blonde scrunched his nose in disgust, “The familiar seemed to have been in a bird form.”

“What makes you think that?” Carmilla leaned forward, showing mild curiosity for the first time since the meeting started.

“We found black feathers that pulsed with magic.”

Lamashtu pressed her lips together, the tips of her fangs just barely peeking out. “Forget the familiar. There is barely a threat from that. But a scent of a Demon general? How could a general get up here? They are chained to hell, there shouldn’t even be a spoken word about them being up here.”

The two men merely shrugged at the questions.

Growling, Lamashtu spun to Carmilla. “Do you have any insight to what is happening?”

Carmilla raised a brow at her sister. “Why would I have any insight on this?”

“Because you have fought against a general Demon before!”

Curling her upper lip, Carmilla glared at Lamashtu. “That was a long time ago. It was on their territory, and I lost. So, dear sister, I have no clue why they are able to come up here.” She crossed her arms and scowled at Lamashtu, “and thank you so much for bringing that up.”

Sighing, Lamashtu leaned back and crossed her legs. She tapped a finger on her knee while thinking.

Finally, she huffed. “Looks like we are going to have to wait and see,” she turned towards the silver-haired man. “Have your lycans continue to track these events. Anything to do with a Demon, I want to know about it. We need as much information as we can before we take action. Understood?”

“Yes, ma’am.” They both barked out in unison.

“Master Eilif?”

Eilif turned toward his footman. “What is it?”

Richard bowed to the females and acknowledged his kind before turning towards his master. He leaned forward so he could whisper, “Master, the man is still alive and has made it to the field just before the mountain.”

Eilif growled louder. He grabbed the table and threw it across the room, shattering it against the stone walls. Carmilla’s pet was frightened awake and tried curling around her master’s feet. Carmilla kicked her pet hard to get her to release her.

Gasps and small shrieks barely met Eilif’s ears. His blood was boiling at the news.

The council looked at Eilif in shock. It was rare for him to lose his temper.

Clearing his throat and straightening his jacket, he spoke. “I have some business to attend to. I will leave the raid planning to the council.”

Snapping his fingers, Eilif left the room with his footman behind him.

Once they were far enough down the hall from all the sharp ears, Eilif stopped and turned to Richard.

“You are going to your ritual tonight, correct?”

“Yes Master. I have no choice.” He answered with a slight bow of his head.

“Good. Kill that man,” He thought for a moment, trying to remember his Lenore’s husband’s name. “Grayson. I do not care how you do it, just bring me his head.” EIlif growled out before leaving his footman.

“Yes, Master Eilif,” Richard’s voice trailed further away as Eilif walked faster to Eleanor’s room.