Reset: The Nine Vampire Lords

[Lord Dakol]

Prologue​

The gentle heat engulfed the man resting on a small rock, which was nestled deeply in the barren sands of the scorching planet, his hand wrapped around the lengthy katana that lay across his lap. He looked around in patience, as if waiting for someone, or something. Long, crimson locks framed his tired, red eyes, but held an eerie strength that most people lacked. The hair rested on his shoulders and back, blending in perfectly with a matching outfit that adorned flames along the sleeves. From behind, another figure stalked across the expanse, yet was still quite a distance away.

“From the moment of my creation, the future has been cloudy for me. God forbid it makes you angry, hm..?” the red-haired man finally spoke after a long silence. The pommel of his sword rubbed against his right hand, gripping it tightly as he waited for the other figure to respond.

“It does not matter, kitsune. I know how this confrontation will end,” the figure said. Just then the red light of the sun hit part of his face. The light showed bright blond hair that tumbled over his shoulder, falling over his soft green eye and sculpted face. His face exuded contemplation and sovereignty. Bulky silver armored shone in a small glint of the light, a dim blue cloak draped over his neck and billowed slowly with every step. A huge, golden blade was strapped across his hip. Engraved runes marked the hilt and around the edges into a spiral, glowing gently like a heartbeat.

The kitsune smiled gently with a chuckle, grunting as he stood up and reversed his katana’s angle, “Yes, as do I. With you in the dust and my blade at your throat,” he replied confidently.

“By the time we are finished, fox boy, I won’t have a throat to slit. Besides…” the sun hit the rest of his face, revealing a grotesque visage, “How can you harm a god?” Most of his features were utterly demonic. Scarred, burned skin covered most of his face, the ghostly green eye glaring at the red-haired kitsune as the black skin was spreading over his entire face like a virus. A black horned spire rose from his brow and into the air, still dripping with blood. His affected hand reached across his hip and pulled at the sword. The virus instantly spread over the blade, transforming it into a pitch-dark broadsword, the handle now ripped apart and fusing onto his right hand.

“Even if you happen to kill me, no one – and I mean no one – will willingly join you. Whatever future you have,” the kitsune sneered with hate, “will surely be on the path of destruction.” And with that, he sprinted forward, crackling fire appearing on the katana.

The other man grinned maliciously, “Hm… I like the sound of that!” he exclaimed before he charged forward. Light surround the black blade as both men swung their swords at each other with enough force to shatter the planet they resided. What resulted was the largest destructive force in the Universe. But to others, it was only the end of a dream.

 

[Lord Dakol]

Re: Reset

Chapter One:​

A Certain Mr. Yuit​

Damion’s hand grasped the pillow nearest him as he awoke with a sharp intake of breath. The soft feeling of the head-rest was comforting, to say the least. Air flowed through the man’s lungs needlessly, rising his chest as he sat up. His clothes hung from his lean muscles like a sculpture, the smalls frills of the shirt shifting when he rose from the bed and walked to the closet. But he did not open the sliding door; instead, he waved his hand in front of his shirt, small specks of black trailing his fingers while he whispered a word, “Lryhka.”

The black substance surrounded the vampire quickly, though it lingered for a moment. When it dissipated, Damion had adorned solid black suit with no tie, and two buttons undone. He smiled at himself, satisfied with the result. Turning around, he flicked his wrist and watched as the window to his right swung open, allowing a soft breeze to flow in. Moments later, he vanished out the door and strode down the long hall before arriving in a large hall. Before him was a white marble greeting room; large, thick columns held golden ornaments that looked like thin, shining threads wrapped around the stone. Damion wasn’t going to conform to the whole “if you’re vampire, be dark” facade.He like the light.

He exhaled, still taken by the sight of his great home. Nevertheless, he walked down the double stairs and opened the huge wooden door to the “bright” outside. Looking up, he saw the artificial sun that shined in the sky. It was discovered that soon after the planet’s creation, Earth’s actual sun burnt out for unknown reasons. They had to replace it with an simulation without harming vampires. The male walked through his garden of black roses, which seemed to be withering, but was a sign of strength for their type of flora. Soon enough, passing by what were other mansions, he came upon Delusia’s main section of the city, where the highest point was the Lord’s Tower, or Council building could be seen from anywhere in the city limits.
Without much warning, Damion was ambushed by crowds of people, whom were very ecstatic to see him.

“Good morning to you all! I apologize that I must be going,” he exclaimed, wading through bodies quickly in order to get to the Tower. He stepped between the last of the people, whom were looking all over for him and questioning how they were able to lose him.
He broke into a run making sure they didn’t follow him as he entered the premises of the Tower. Unsurprisingly, the interior was dark compared to Damion’s humble abode, with black cracks along the walls and floors, though this was the norm of everyday life. Ghosts wandered the corridors, particularly past Vampire Lords. He quickly came upon the Main Hall, where nine seats rose above close to the ceiling, save one seat, and traveled to the seat to the far left and sat down.

At once, something clicked beneath the chair as he sat down and a dark light glowed around the crevices. Damion waited patiently, looking down at the floor far below him. A smile stretched across his lips as he saw an Elf-looking figure climb the stairs, and it was clear that it was the vampire Lord Neos, Master of Immortality and was quite a bit older than Damion himself. They exchanged short nods, and Damion watched as Neos sat on his chair and activated its power. Soon enough three more arrived; Noxus, Watcher of Time; Persov, Master of Water, and Donovan, Vampire Lord of Fire each appearing in their own fashion of explosions and portals.
Now, with five seats taken, they waited for the last Lord to arrive: Lillith, Mistress of Blood.
“Why is she always late?” Persov snarled, the first one to break the silence, rubbing the jagged scar that drew across his left eye with his thumb.
“Have you forgotten about Ashlance’s record of absences? We’re lucky to see a glimpse of him…ever,” Donovan replied as he coughed gently, “Lillith has a perfect attendance compared to him.” Ashlance was the Lord of Earth, and regularly left the city in order to make sure the entire world was found, and so was called the “Wanderer of Earth”.
Just as Persov scoffed off Donovan’s retort, Damion turned his head to see the Mistress arrive. For a moment, his breath was somehow caught inside his throat as he took sight of her. Wearing a long, flowing red robe, the fabric cut off at the perfect length at her legs, she was not afraid of showing off her assets. But ultimately, Damion was drawn to the pure aura she had. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulders and her bright green eyes pierced the air before knocking sense back into the enraptured male and made him leaned back slowly and speak.

“Cbqihtet. Now we can get started. Take your seat, Lady Lillith, if you please.” Damion said, then looked forward as a human ran up the stairs and bowed, handing the male a thick sack of papers and muttering a quick “My Lord” before vanishing form his sight. Damion looked at the papers quickly and deciding on an urgent matter. “Bring forward Roscoe Yuit.” his voice suddenly thundered into the bowels of the Tower. At once, two vampiric guards marched forward, handling a thin, almost pale-looking man with short blond hair. Damion cringed with revulsion but remained stoic as he continued.
“Mr. Roscoe Yuit, you have been brought before the council for multiple homicides against vampires. Do you have anything to say for yourself, pycdynt?” Damion said before Neos leaned towards him.
“Is this the one about the ritualized killings, Damion? May I?” he asked, and once Damion had gave him permit, he gave his expertise on the matter. “Fourteen coordinated deaths in a single month. After each murder, you draw a perfect circle around the body and proceed to draw signs of Sol. Mm-hmm, well perhaps this has passed your circle of information, but Sol has been gone for thousands of years. You can draw no power from this runes.” He waited patiently for that bit of information to sink in.
“Heh… you think that Sol is gone…” the man suddenly spoke up, glaring at Neos then Damion, “But he’s here, corrupting the minds of everyone around you… all of you will die by The Path!” he exclaimed before wrestling free of the guards grasp and sending a strong current of electricity towards Damion.
Everyone acted at once; the guards took Roscoe to the ground while Damion worked to create a shield before him, his fangs quickly extending to just above his bottom teeth, but a flurry distracted him and watched as the Lightning was gone. In front of him, a young man in a tattered beige cloak stood in front of him, a katana poised carefully to protect Damion. The boy’s dark grey hair blew out of his eyes and glanced at the vampire.
“Izar…” Damion whispered lightly, shocked to see him, of all people. But the Hall was quickly rocked by an explosion, and felt a speck of hot Blood hit his cheek. His gaze turned to the source, and saw as Roscoe was in pieces, and the two guards violently ripped apart.
Another minute had passed by in silence, all shocked to what their eyes had seen. But Damion, recognizing death, moved first. He needed to preserve the remains of Roscoe before they were contaminated, and so he rushed down the long stairway before realizing that he could get there faster by teleporting.

“Luma,” he muttered. Having a few seconds to prepare, he gazed down at the spot before the body of Roscoe. Darkness engulfed him once again, but now vanished from the stairs. In a small portal of black, Damion stepped out, his mind somewhat warped from the travel. Yet, he acted swiftly, “Darkness, allow me to use you once more. Cayq,” said Damion, folding his fingers by his side before observing the Darkness that began to work. Blood and bits of substance started to hover above the ground, floating towards the small orb of black ink. It sounded hungry, growls and moans of pain emanating from the sphere when the Blood entered.
Damion shivered in disgust; he felt the corrupted Blood and essence of the convicted, and it sickened him. Once the orb was done, Damion fell to the ground, wishing he could feed on pure Blood. Everything around him was fading in and out in a wild circling extravagant motion. But before he blacked out, and strong, long-fingered hand gripped his right shoulder. The vampire groaned as his consciousness returned, his twisting vision stabilizing as he slipped away from the hand. Neos looked down at Damion calmly, which caused Damion to smiled thankfully. The elf/vampire was the Lord of Immortality, and thus was a great healer and alchemist.
He quickly rose to his feet, saying thanks once more in his natural tongue, Delusian. Damion grabbed the orb, needing to get results as soon as possible. But before he turned to leave, he looked at the young man at the top of the stairs - Izar, he remembered - and beckoned him to follow, along with Lillith. He figured he would need her powers of Blood to work more efficiently. Izar looked surprised, and Lillith followed immediately as the three walked out of the Hall and out into the city.
“You needed me, Lord Damion?” said Izar, keeping in stride with him as well as Lillith.
Damion nodded in response, “Yes, I’m afraid so. First off, I want to thank you for the defense against that attack. Although it was not needed, you acted very swift. I also was thinking of your training; who is, by the way, training you?” he asked, reaching the mansion grounds soon enough and opening his doors and letting Lillith in first then Izar.
“Well… no one is sir. I…I’ve trained myself,” replied the boy, “Why?” Izar looked at Damion expectedly while in confusion, but Damion stayed quiet. He strode towards the wooden double doors adjacent to them and flung them open with a flick of his wrist, then walked down a set of stairs to his right. Immediately a strong, lingering smell of gore hung in the stale air.
“Sorry for the smell. I can’t get rid of it. Not since…” he interrupted himself, entering a pitch black room which caused what sounded like Izar tripping.
“Shi-!” exclaimed Izar, a dull thud and loud clatter was heard, “I’m all right. I am… good.” The lights then flickered on, Damion turning his head and looking at the boy, whom was still getting up and kicking a filthy bucket away. Izar looked around, “What is this place?” he asked.
“H’m…surgery, experimentation, alchemy, among other things. Take your pick,” said Damion, placing the ball on the table ahead, dried Blood splattered against the table, “We need to test the Blood for signs of contamination. Lillith, if you will.” he said politely.
Lillith smiled and nodded solemnly before stepping forward and touching the orb of Darkness, “Mm… there is definitely evil in the Blood cells. But not any evil; there are traces of indoctrination where the brain was used.” she reported, letting out a soft exhale. Damion gasped, “The Path, then! But what is it..?” he inquired, running a hand through his hair and sighing heavily. The Path seemed to be a dark being, playing from behind the scenes… his first thought was his father, but that certainly was not possible. There were also the Black Demons, though they were not known to capture the minds of others. He looked up at the others, “Um, I’ll need to figure this out later. You can go back to your dwellings, and I will call you when I think of something,” he told them, then remembered as Izar was about to leave.
“Izar!” he exclaimed after him.
“Yes, sir?” Izar replied quizzically.
“Would you like me to train you?”

 

[Lord Dakol]

Chapter Two:

The Dark Mind



After a day or so, Damion had sent a letter by courier - reptile, in fact - to Izar’s location, instructing him to meet him out in the mansion courtyards. It was responded to quickly, which was surprising; he thought that the boy had a busy life. But he shrugged it off, and smiled as he saw Izar enter the courtyard and head towards him.
“Izar, so glad you could make it!” said Damion, kneeling down and placing his hand on the pavement.

“I’m honored, Master,” replied Izar, then noticed what Damion was doing, “Um, Master..?” Damion had closed his eyes and traced the pavement with his fingers, drawing a unique mark for each space; black ink began to glow to form a small circle, “E fyqq vun oui Aqalahd. I summon the blade…Dark Chaser!” he breathed. All was quiet for a moment until Damion began to raise his hand vertically from the ground. What followed seemed to surprise Izar; a dark, black handle rose from the ground, shifting through the stone without disturbing it. Soon, the blade itself shone brightly in the light, the charcoal sheen of the edge glinted before he gripped the handle tightly, the cool feel resonating through him for the first time in a while.

“What Element do you prefer?” he asked.
Izar looked, once more, caught off-guard, “I-I’m sorry?”
“Which would you like to train specifically? There are Nine; Fire, Lightning, Water, Earth, Blood, Immortality, Time, Space, and Darkness. Be warned: none of them are weaker than the other, or stronger. They can only defeat each other if the people using them are different in skill,” he explained patiently, looking up at his apprentice.
“Then…” Izar hesitated momentarily, lost in thought, “I would choose Darkness, my Lord.”
The vampire clapped his hands as he stood up, swinging his sword upwards and landing cleanly on his shoulder, “Okay then, we need to test out your blade’s strength. Come at me-” he barely had time to complete his sentence, stunned by the speed and eagerness that Izar showed by just…charging at him. He didn’t let the shock conquer his common sense, moving his sword downwards to block Izar’s attack and moving to the right to avoid any glancing blows. Izar fell to the ground elbow first, but he quickly recovered and stood up to brandish his weapon. The vampire laughed and watched the boy’s katana with interest. Izar grunted in confusion and looked down at his blade; black sparks appeared around the edges, trying to crack the blade’s sheen, “Izar? Izar!” barked Damion, and ran forward and swinging his blade at the katana with a muffled laugh.
Izar formed a look of surprise as he looked at Damion, seeing that fanged smirk and being frozen for a moment, and that was all the time the Vampire needed. Damion bent down to grasp the katana and closed his eyes. Everything around them seemed to slow down for eternity. The black ink poured out of the vampire’s aura, striking the weapon with immense force. The boy, still not being able to move, struggled with taking his favored weapon out of Damion’s tight grip. As it crackled and snapped, it soon became clear that Damion’s Element was testing the blade’s strength; however, the katana persisted.
“Izar, this will hurt, I think. Brace yourself, young one,” warned Damion, but what happened next he didn’t expect. The katana suddenly forced Damion off Izar, hurdling him back onto the pavement several feet away and making him immobile and writhing in aching pain until he heard a pained growl. Damion slouched up, looking at his student’s aura fluctuate madly and gasped as that familiar black mark formed on Izar’s cheek and began to spread across his skin. The vampire saw telltale signs of wings, the glassy texture showing where the great wings were going to be. Something had definitely went wrong with their process of elimination, and something had to have been a type of poison injected into Izar’s bloodstream, but how – and why - exactly?
Gripping his sword tightly, he stood up and waited for something to happen to match the feeling of dread he had in his gut. His instinct and his sword told Damion to run from this creature that Izar had changed into, but he knew he couldn’t leave him there to wreak destruction upon Delusia. The energies that the creature was emitting was monstrous; the large, emerald-skinned creature had black marks of Darkness around his frame, with dark horns protruding from the forehead to curve upwards into the Heavens. The wings, as Damion thought, were not green like its user. Instead, black rocks covering a layer of soft tissue were wings that easily folded inwards. Bright red eyes glared at Damion, not moving or expressing any other emotion. “Damn… I can’t fight him head on,” he muttered, slowly inching to the left of the great behemoth and readying his sword. He swung his sword once and charged forward, wanting to gauge the creature's power. He found out the hard way. The beast swung its hand into Damion's stomach and sent him stumbling back with a sickening snap. The Vampire felt a number of ribs break from the creature's glancing blow, though he was fine overall. The familiar black ink flowed around his free hand, speaking to Damion for a way out of the dilemma.
It could be, the Darkness told him, that this beast is a part of The Path's way to recruit Izar to his side.
The theory sounded, frankly, a bit foolish to Damion, but he considered it nonetheless. It was the only possible answer at the moment that presented itself. "Izar" interrupted his train of thought with an almost ear-shattering roar and grasped Damion's neck and instantly began to tighten. Damion began to panic; his kind did not need to rely on air, though if for any reason their larynx was crushed, it would render them dead - for good! Driven purely by his instinct for survival, he apologized to the beast and pushed his "unholy" blade through the creature’s side. The bloodcurdling yell that followed was almost unnatural for it, and that signified to Damion that Izar was still in there. It released it’s vice grip and howled in pain, allowing Damion to snake between its legs and stand behind it. The creature looked around for Damion, sorely confused about his disappearing act.

“Fyja uv Tynghacc!” the Vampire exclaimed, pushing his hand forward and slowly exhaled as he felt a small surge of Darkness leave his arm. The beast was taken off-guard, and was sent crashing into the garden, the creature's fists flying every which way in vain; the ink just flowed around its arm and continued to hold it down.
“I am fortunate,” Damion said, “that the power in you has not taken hold of your mind, meddma uha.” He staggered forward to the beast, holding his ribs delicately and placing his hand on its shoulder. “Just count your stars that I did not use the Descension this time-” somehow, the beast was able to turn around and unleash a full blast of emerald energy at his chest, its mouth gaping open to allow the shot to flow through. It cackled as the ink vanished from its body and allowed it to stretch its wings. The creature was gone at once, leaving Damion to writhe on the ground amongst his black roses.
Submit, O Lord of Darkness, deep voices growled, reverberating continuously inside Damion skull , and allow The Path of Destruction to rein free!

* * *​

Izar soared in the sky, his rocky wings keeping him aloft with ease. The wind blew through his small patches of fur, tickling his senses and keeping him calm for the first time. His eyes settled on the expansive city before him, and one thought crawled into his head: destruction, as his master instructed him to do. Flexing his wings, he dove towards the tall tower, his sight miraculously allowing him to see Elemental signatures, save for the ones that did not have any experience in the ancient powers. Suddenly a small ball of Fire exploded across his left wing, sending him to hurdle towards the earth. He noticed a man hovering below him and began to use his wings once the licking pain had passed. He was able to keep himself from crashing into the ground, and turned his attention to the figure. From the swirling fire around the man, Izar slowly noticed that it was Lord Donovan. with a small growl, he shot straight towards him, claws out and teeth bared.
“Sickening animal,” snarled Donovan, lighting a fire in his hand and preparing himself. At once they collided, creating a shockwave of darkness and fire throughout the sky.

* * *​

“No... NO!” Damion gurgled, slamming his head onto the dirt, blood trickling down his forehead and dripping onto the black petals of the flora. His own morality struggled with the power inside his heart, which was trying to corrupt his body. He steadily forced it out, using every bit of power he had to become clear of The Path. He then caught sight of the thin wave in the sky, and he had a feeling it was Izar. With The Path now out of his body, he stood up and concentrated to float within the furthest reaches of his psyche. Damion knew that the Fire Lord would be able to hold off Izar for the time being, but when the beast would be able to figure out the man’s weakness, his opponent would be most assuredly dead. He needed to act fast and take down the monster. Slowly, a pair of leathery black wings sprouted from his back, dark red Blood flowing through the small veins that could be seen through the light and over the skin. At the same moment, above his ears, small wings popped out, fluttering quickly and quietly as Damion’s eyes underwent a transformation. His pupils suddenly dilated to a dangerous degree before whiting out his eyes with over-stimulation, blanking out with a small pop. His arms then went limp, touching the gravel as he took on a feral-esque state, his knuckles touching the tiny, dry pebbles. “Taclahtat Vuns: Dark Damion…” he snarled, his fangs extending well past their usual length and his bottom lip.
With a simple shake of his wings, he took off into the sky towards the battle that soon attracted people to the “spectacle”. Soon enough, he saw – as he predicted – a limp Donovan, defeated as he hung in Izar’s large, beastly hand. The monster then let out what was supposedly another earth-shattering roar, but Damion seemed to not hear it.
“Mad Tuhujyh ta'Bona ku, Tasuh!” he growled, his blank eyes boring into Izar, but it didn’t have much of an effect, as the beast began to laugh. Summoning Dark Chaser from its place in the garden, he shot forward and shoved the creature aside without effort and caught Donovan just as Lillith appeared beside him, her magnificent wings stretched out in the air. Damion muttered a word of thanks in his Vampiric tongue, handing Donovan over to Lady Lillith. He had then turned his attention to Izar, whom was curiously brandishing his claws before taking actual notice of Damion. The mysterious green smoke that rose from its fur stank of The Path, smelling of blood and war. Damion bared his teeth and felt an unfamiliar anger filling him up inside, then without warning let out a yell, his throat vibrating furiously as black ink shrouded him in Darkness. All was eerily quiet for minutes, allowing Damion to think of a way to end the monstrosity that had consumed Izar. The Vampire shifted his blade downwards as Neos and Persov arrived, hoping to help with the situation. Damion, then, remembered a sealing technique that could put the beast away, perhaps forever. Both of them were extremely powerful – as they both had strong, emanating auras - but only one had the necessary experience to execute a precarious move such as what Damion was about to commit himself to.
Forcing his voice-box to wrench out plain English, it came out into several coughing fits, and Damion attempted to talk sense into Izar, "Little one, know that what I do now," he sputtered, "will help you and your soul."

And obviously not wanting to waste another precious second on senseless verbal debates, the creature charged forward once more and aimed to kill, claw poised at Damion’s throat. Damion acted on this, contracting and releasing the shroud of ink into the air, the sky went dark and blinded Izar. This allowed Damion glide gently onto the beast's shoulders and adjust his blade on the nape of its neck. "Rest in peace, Path," he growled, every word dripping with hateful venom. Damion stood there for what seemed like eternity, his breathing curiously becoming labored before plunging the sword into its skin.

* * *​

The beast inside – and out- howled in blinding pain as it heard something about a vague sealing spell and immediately felt the effects take place. The once figureless black ink took on a series of runes, consisting of words that looked like 'vanquish' and 'death' spreading around its arms, legs, and head. The scroll-like scriptures bound itself to the beast and constricted tightly, making the veins and arteries to burst soundlessly inside its skin. It worked its way towards the creature's skeleton, snapping every single limb in order to ultimately grab hold of The Path's influence and cast it out of the Izar's body. The Path, now dead - or at least its influence - was forced to send the large body of the beast back inside and allowed Izar's conscience to retake what was rightfully his. Simpleminded confusion flooded Izar’s mind, but it ultimately “fell away”, just as he and Damion were demonstrating.

* * *​

As the Lord of Darkness smiled blankly, his bodily enhancements shrank back into his body and sent him drifting into the blurry dark, and they were sent through the sky. A soft, delicate hand wrapped around his waist and pulled him further down before he saw the blood-red fingernails caressing his shirt, almost lovingly before he succumbed to his tiredness.