Daughters of the Moon Pt. 01

"Dad was an asshole," said Carla.

"I know. I know, but he used to say such awful things about women who were... like me," said Lucy.

"Moon touched, dryad touched. People just say touched these days too. It's all fine," said Carla.

"And Ms. Wetherton, the lady who runs my boarding house. I've had to tiptoe around her for months. I've never even brought Mira there because I was scared she'd figure it out," said Lucy

"That old bag goes to the church of the Father three times a week because she could never find an actual man who wanted to fuck her."

"Carla!"

"What? And you wouldn't catch me in a church of the Father if I was on fire and the only water for miles was the blessing pool."

"Carla, you're ridiculous," said Lucy.

Carla smiled inwardly. Carla loved saying outrageous things to get a rise out of Lucy. She felt it was an important part of maintaining her tough older sister persona.

"You're ridiculous," said Carla. "Months. You've been seeing this nice girl for months?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I'm just teasing. And I'm just saying you don't need to be scared anymore. There's a nice touched couple that runs the bakery down the road from the shop and they got married at that new church of the Mother that opened in Pallington Square."

"I know. I stopped there the other day on the way to visit you and seeing them really helped me with this."

"I'm so glad. I'm so happy for you," said Carla. Then she came in and gave Lucy another hug.

"I am really sorry it took me so long to tell you. I just... had to work myself up to it. And with the Dragon's army coming..."

Carla cut Lucy off. She didn't want her to finish that sentence, "I understand When do I get to meet this nice girl?

Lucy took a breath. "How about after the siege is over? We can all celebrate our victory together."

Carla smiled, "That sounds like a wonderful idea."

...

Carla stood on the wall, looking at the fields stretching to the horizon. Scouts reported the Dragon's army was due to arrive this afternoon. The wall was closed to civilians, of course, but Sebastian had used his position with the wall garrison to get them a spot.

They anxiously watched the horizon. The day had started bright and sunny, but as they stood there waiting the sky blackened and became overcast. Carla could feel the tingle of magic in the air and knew the Dragon was sending the darkness before his army to protect it from the wrath of the sun.

"Do you hear that?" asked Sebastian.

Carla muttered a spell and sharpened her ears. She filtered out the worried mutter of the crowd and she heard it, a drumming on the horizon. Thousands of drums were hammering in unison.

"Yes I hear it," she said.

After a few more minutes the army came into sight. First as a vague black line on the horizon that grew and grew until it covered the fields like a cloud that matched the sky. She muttered another spell to sharpen her eyes, barely feeling the small bump of weariness that overtook her. The army resolved itself and she gasped. Skeletons in black armor marched in endless ranks. Dead men on dead horses cantered under banners with the heraldry of the vampire houses. At the edges of the skeleton formations creatures skittered forward, smoothly switching between a four armed lope and a hunchbacked shuffle. Dotted among the companies were enormous wolves, and towering over them all were creatures that were a horrid mix of wolf and bat that were twice as big as an ox, loping along on massive clawed feet and given wide berth by the rest of the army. Swarms of bats that looked much too big for how far away they were darkened the sky even more.

And leading them all were the vampires. Most were mounted on powerful horses but some walked amongst their soldiers. Their smooth perfect faces and unblinking eyes sent a chill down her spine. They rode beneath the banners of their houses. Instead of the lions, eagles, and horses she was used to there were dragons, wolves, red moons, and bloody wheels.

"Fuck me," whispered Carla under her breath. Sebastian gave her a grim look in response.

The drumming got louder as the army approached but she still didn't see any drummers. Eventually she realized there weren't any. The feet of the skeletons were hitting the ground in perfect unison, and the earth reverberated with each strike of their feet. The earth itself was their drum.

Everyone in the wall watched as the army slowly drew near. Until it covered the earth and blackened the sky.

Finally it stopped just outside of cannon range of the walls, close enough for everyone to see the full might of the horrors arrayed against them. The drumming stopped as the army went still. The vampires and the dead stood as still as statues while the ghouls and the bat wolves shuffled impatiently.

Then the army rippled and a figure rode forward on a pale horse, flanked by a swordsman and a banner carrier. The crowd muttered in confusion when they noticed the banner. It was not the banner of the Dragon. It was a bloody crescent moon with a pair of crossed keys below. Then Carla looked at the figure and blinked. It wasn't the Dragon after all. It was a woman. She had deep red hair, like fire and blood. She held herself with an aristocratic poise that made it impossible to take your eyes off of her.

She urged her horse a few paces forward and spoke. Even though she didn't raise her voice, everyone on the wall could hear her as if she was right in front of them.

"My name is Sophia of house Mircalla."

The confusion on the walls deepened. Everyone knew of Vlad Dracul, the vampire lord who marched out of the dead kingdom of Orgov once every century to harrow the kingdoms of men, but Carla had never heard of house Mircalla. Carla was vaguely aware there were other vampire houses, but as far as she knew this was the first time any of them had joined the Draculs in their invasion.

Then Earl Edelman stepped forward. He was an older, florid man with a red nose and bulky frame that hinted at years of hard drinking and good eating. His voice boomed out, "I am Earl Edelman of the northern marches. I am charged with the defense of this city."

"Edelman. I have heard of you. You lead the defense of the grey walls against the ice men hordes?" asked Sophia.

Edelman started, "That was my grandfather."

"Ah. Time does fly. An excellent bloodline nonetheless. I'm honored to have you as an opponent."

"I, however, have not heard of you. Where is the Dragon?" demanded Edelman.

"I am afraid he has occupied himself elsewhere. He has charged me with taking this city and out of respect I extend an offer of honorable surrender," said Sophia.

"So we can become your dinner? I think not," said Edelman.

Even at this distance Carla could see Sophia shake her head.

"My only wish is to preserve your lives. We are not so cruel as the Dragon. You have my word if you open the gates no one will be killed," she said.

"You expect me to believe an army of blood drinkers would spare our lives?"

"You have my word on the honor of the Mircalla," said Sophia.

"You are a race of monsters and butchers. Your word means nothing," said Edelman.

Sophia's poise finally cracked as a flash of rage briefly distorted her features. But it was gone in a moment.

"If you think so little of my honor let me appeal to your reason," said Sophia, "The people of this city are much more valuable to us alive. We have discovered how to sustain ourselves without hurting those we feed upon. No one need be harmed to sate our hunger. Simply open the gates and we will take only enough to nourish us. Your people will go about their lives, your soldiers may return to their families. But if your gates remain closed we will grind you to dust on those walls and your soldiers' corpses will join the vanguard of my army. I know you believe the Good King rides to your rescue, but the Dragon marches West towards Celador. Your supposed ally will leave you to your fate while he pursues the Dragon. I beg you not to sacrifice your men in a futile defense of the city."

There was a worried muttering among the crowd. Rumors of the Good King's approach had run through the city and it was the faint light of hope in the face of the nightmare arrayed against them. Sophia spoke with such confidence in her inevitable victory, and her offer sounded so genuine, that the men were beginning to doubt. Carla could feel it too. Why throw all their lives away when they could just open the gates and all go back to business as usual?

Then the Earl's voice cut through the air, "The only way you'll walk on these walls is over my corpse."

A cheer broke out amongst the soldiers, and the citizens quickly took it up. But Carla didn't join in, all she could do was look out at the size of the army arrayed before the city. The endless black ranks.

Sophia stared up at the Earl. her face expressionless, "Very well. You have until sundown to reconsider."

And without another word she turned and was swallowed by the ranks of her army.

...

The assault began that night. Carla didn't see it, of course. She was back in the shop. But she could hear it. The crack of thunder was a constant drumbeat as the vampires conjured lightning to rake the walls, between the crashes of thunder there was the steady roar and screech of men fighting and dying. Like the waves of a vast ocean were slamming against the city.

Her entire experience with the battle was taking care of the wounded. She could track the progress of the battle by the injuries of the men brought to her. At first there were men with burns from lightning and torn flesh from the bites of the massive bats she had seen accompanying the army as the vampires softened the men at the top of the walls. Then they bore sword and ax wounds as the corpses scaled the ladders and reached the wall. At this point men were brought to her with chunks bitten out of limbs, babbling about corpses that begged for help as they tore into them. The worst were the men who had aged decades. There was nothing they could do to fix that, the men had years of their lives stolen from them in the most literal way by some terrible magic hurled against the walls.

Carla worked steadily, healing the injured brought to her. The words of healing tumbled from her mouth, carrying her magic into the wounds of the soldiers. She changed the words based on whether it was torn flesh, broken bone, or killing fever. The flow of wounded men never stopped and she quickly fell into a haze of constant exhaustion. The only thing that kept her from collapsing was the occasional swallow of potion prepared by Benjamin the day before. When the strain got to be too much she would tumble into a cot and Benjamin would take over, his strong deep voice knitting the soldiers' wounds. Their tense enmity was forgotten in the united struggle of saving the soldiers' lives.

Through the endless night they struggled and the tide of wounded never ceased. Until finally, at long last, Carla was utterly spent. She looked down at a soldier bleeding out from an arm that was clawed to the bone. She spoke the words of healing to knit his flesh together, and nothing happened. There was no more magic in her. She looked up vaguely and saw Benjamin.

"I need a potion."

"There aren't any. We're out," said Benjamin. His voice was completely flat.

Carla looked down at the soldier. He was already turning pale. He didn't have long. He had his eyes closed and was praying silently.

"But he'll die," she said to Benjamin.

Benjamin looked at her expressionlessly, then down at the soldier. "I'll get him. Go get some rest," he said.

Carla nodded. She wanted to object. Say she just needed a minute. But even talking seemed like too much effort. She stumbled to the back, past a dozen soldiers resting after she had saved their lives, and collapsed in a cot. She sank into the cot like it was a lake ready to swallow her and he knew no more.

...

"Carla, Carla you have to wake up."

"Buh?" Carla jerked awake.

"Carla," it was Sebastian looking down at her. He was filthy; covered in dust and blood.

"Sebastian? You're alive!"

"Yes. Yes, I made it but," His eyes were haunted, "Carla, they've taken the city."

Carla stared at him, not feeling scared yet. She couldn't really believe it, "What?"

"My God, Carla. There were so many of them. No matter how many we killed, ten more took their place. And the magic they threw at us... Even a few spells that powerful would have drained the warmages dry. They must have killed hundreds of prisoners to fuel them."

Carla sat up, "No. This can't be happening. The earl..."

"The earl is dead," said Sebastian, "God, the vampire that killed him moved so fast I couldn't even see him. He was just a blur. He cut through men like wheat. That's what broke us. There was nothing we could do."

Carla hugged him, crushed him close. The terror had finally come. Her stomach roiled and she was lightheaded with it. She could barely breathe, "What do we do? Oh god, what do we do?"

"We have to go," said Sebastian, "Baron Tavosh took command after the earl fell. The baron surrendered immediately and the Dragon's daughter is allowing the army to leave without their arms or banners. We can go with them."

"Okay... okay let me get my sister and..."

"There isn't time. My father's already there but we have to go now. Besides, there aren't enough horses or supplies. Your sister won't be able to make the trip."

Carla stared at him in confusion. "I'm not leaving my sister." She said it like she was explaining the sky was blue.

Sebastian looked at her for a long moment, his face curiously blank. For once Carla had no idea what he was thinking.

"Alright, go get her and... meet us at the west gate. But hurry." Sebastian's voice was low and desperate.

Carla nodded and got up without another word, no 'I love you' or last hug. She didn't want to see him right now. Hopefully they would have time to make up on the road.

Carla left the shop and raced through the streets, whispering magic to gently coax people out of her path and banish her exhaustion. The streets weren't what she expected; there were no piles of bodies, no weeping masses. People were going about their business and living soldiers were still walking the streets. But there was a new tension in the air. People were quiet, there was none of the shouting and gesticulating she used to, and people's eyes slid away from the soldiers rather than glaring at them. The soldiers themselves bore the black and red heraldry of the vampires. She recognized some mercenary companies as well and shook her head at the men who would sell their souls for gold. Carla looked up and saw the cloud that had come with the vampire army now hung over the city, hiding the afternoon sun. Carla could feel the dark magic laced in those clouds, they pressed down on her with oppressive weight.

She passed through a market square and stopped to stare. In the middle of the square was a line of people. She saw fear and despair in the slump of their shoulders and heard faint weeping like the distant sound of surf. At the head of the line was a man in a chirurgeon's long white coat flanked by a squad of soldiers. Behind them was a strange device that looked like a whiskey still. Even from the edge of the square Carla could feel the necromancy infusing the device and looking at it made her eyes itch. As Carla watched, the chirurgeon beckoned to the man at the head of the line. The man approached and sat on an examination table, disturbingly similar to the ones back at the shop. When the man settled, the chirurgeon walked up to him and raised a syringe attached to an alchemically treated rubber hose. It looked like some of the modern chirurgeon equipment Carla had seen. The chirurgeon fussed at the man's arm and carefully inserted the needle. After a moment, blood began to flow out of him, through the hose and into the still. The man closed his eyes and looked away, trying to pretend he was somewhere else, wishing himself away from what was being done to him.

Carla backed up, whirled around and ran out of the square towards her sister's telegraph station. She hurled magic in front of her. The magic carried her fear and desperation and people practically jumped out of her way as she ran, pricked by invisible needles and stung by bugs that were only in their minds.

Carla burst into her sister's office, "Lucy!"

The lock to the door to the telegraph room clicked and the door flew outward. Lucy came rushing out.

"Carla, oh my god."

Her sister threw herself into a hug. Carla squeezed her tight for a second then pulled back.

"We need to get out of here. Sebastian's leaving with the army. He's waiting for us at the west gate."

"Leave? But this is our home. Maybe they'll leave us alone. Maybe..."

Carla instantly understood Lucy's fear. Before she had found a job with Benjamin they had wandered from town to town, just barely scraping by with Carla doing small amounts of healing and good luck charms and Lucy taking letter writing jobs where she could get them. Neither of them had guild membership and they were always just on the edge of starvation or imprisonment. The last three years had been the most comfortable and stable since their dad died, and now Carla was telling Lucy they had to give it up.

Carla put her hands on her sister's shoulders and looked her dead in the eye. She saw the fear and despair pooling in them, "I know how hard this is. But we are not safe here. We need to go. It won't be like before. I promise."

Lucy slowly nodded, "Alright... alright just... let me pack quickly."

"You have two minutes."

Lucy nodded again, her face pale and drawn, but she wasted no time running to the back. She returned in less than two minutes, carrying a small bag.

"Let's go," said Carla.

But Lucy didn't respond. She was staring past Carla with wide eyes. Carla turned and there were two vampires standing just in the entrance behind her. They had the slightly too pale skin and the odd stillness all vampires shared, but they weren't what Carla expected vampires to look like. One was a short, bulky young man with a square head. His hair was close cropped and his arms were well muscled. He had the beefy well fed look of a butcher, someone who worked with the hands but had grown fat on his work. He had a pair of hatchets tucked in his belt. The other was a short woman with a wide frame and strong shoulders. She looked like a young baker's wife but she wasn't dressed like one. She had on a fine black dress of an odd design, leaving her arms and shoulder bare and with slits up the skirt that gave glimpses of tight trousers underneath. She had a sword strapped to her broad hips.

The butcher vampire stepped forward, "Which one of you works here?"

"Me," said Lucy, stepping past Carla, "I do."

Carla just had time to start panicking when the vampire man, the butcher, turned his gaze on her

Carla's fear flared like a fire with oil thrown on it. The terror surrounded her, crushing her lungs and freezing her blood. She found herself unable to move, overwhelmed by the fear the vampire was pushing into her. She struggled against the shroud thrown over her mind but she was exhausted from the long grueling night and her mad rush through the city. The haze wavered briefly as she pushed against it but then the limb crushing terror settled back as her will collapsed.

The baker vampire gave Lucy a smile "Did you handle military communications before the siege?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about my clients. It's confidential."

"It's okay sweetie. You can tell me."

Carla saw Lucy straighten and draw a breath. She ran a nervous hand through her hair, "Y-yes I did."

"And you're familiar with the military's cypher system?"

"Yes! I know it back to front." said Lucy. She sounded like she was trying to impress the baker.