Page 10 of Ever Dark Academy, Vol. 3

Before Ryder had a chance to answer, he felt visitors.

His head snapped towards the front doors.

Demos and Siban were already looking there.

At the end of the avenue Vampires were gathering.

Some were pointing up at the red-gold flames that now burned merrily above the Weryn Palace.

Others were staring down the avenue at the open front doors.

At him. They couldn’t enter onto his land unless he let them. And he was keeping them there. For now.

Siban’s lips writhed back from their teeth and they took a menacing step towards the doors.

“It’s all right, Siban. I should have expected visitors after that light show outside,” Ryder told her. “Why don’t you and Demos go look for your rooms?”

“You honestly think we’re going to leave you to face all of them?” Demos was giving him his “get out of town” look.

Grayson patted his shoulder. “Yeah, Demos is right. I mean he’s almost always right. But he’s definitely right this time.”

“Thank you! It’s good to have someone around who understands,” Demos chuckled.

“I know you’re right, too, Demos. I just sometimes like doing the wrong thing,” Ryder admitted.

Demos let out a grunt of agreement and shook his head.

“You can’t face whoever these people are alone. And who are they? The other Weryn?” Grayson asked, not able to see or sense who the Vampires were in his human form.

“Definitely them, but not just them. Other Vampires, too. Not Members of the Bloodlines with Immortals though,” Siban answered. They were up on the balls of their feet, almost as if expecting to get into a fight.

“They know another Immortal has arrived,” Demos said, his expression somewhere between annoyed and alarmed. “As if what happened in the Ring wasn’t clear enough.”

“Yeah, but opening a palace is really official,” Grayson said as he, too, gazed down the avenue to the clustering Vampires.

Ryder turned and cupped Grayson’s face. “I appreciate that you don’t wish me to meet these people alone, but you cannot be with me regardless.”

Grayson’s eyes widened and his lips parted, clearly about to argue, but then he grimaced. “You’re right. I can’t. I’m supposed to be just a student. Damnit.” Ryder gave out an unexpected chuckle, which had Grayson looking up at him. “What?”

“I keep expecting you to act like a young man ready for a fight. But then you are so reasonable. So Ashyr-like,” Ryder admitted.

Grayson gave him a lopsided smile. “I admit when I came here I very much wanted to use my powers to take some people out. I still rather do. But we have a plan. I intend to stick with it. Besides, you are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.”

“I am?” Ryder lifted an eyebrow, even though he knew he was.

“Yes, you are. I know this. But you’ll also have Demos and Siban with you,” Grayson admitted.

“I will. But I can handle this. I must handle it. Can’t hide in here forever,” Ryder reminded him.

Grayson glanced down the avenue again. “True and we don’t know that they’re unfriendly. They could be here to welcome you back.”

“Some of them are,” Demos said. “But I’m betting some of them aren’t. Weryn is not popular .”

“Kaly has not been ostracized and they are far more responsible for what happened then Weryn for the War,” Siban objected.

“How many of these people were around during the War, Siban? You, Dani, Elgar and maybe a handful of others?” Demos shook his head. “All these people know is what the Order told them, and of the Immortals, Weryn was Satan incarnate. You know that.”

Siban’s hands curled into fists. “The Order was Kaly propaganda. Do they remember that?”

Ryder put one hand on each of their shoulders. “It wasn’t all propaganda though. They have reason to fear me.”

“Are you going away from the fearing-you thing?” Demos looked dubious about that.

Ryder thought of his idea to seem approachable.

Reasonable. The mediator. He threw it away.

That wasn’t what he was. Who he was. Maybe inside his own Bloodline, but only after people had proven themselves to him and were worthy of it.

This was his palace. His lands. He was the Immortal Weryn, no matter what, no matter who didn’t like it.

“No, Demos, I don’t think so,” Ryder answered, which had Demos’ eyebrows rising, but he smiled nonetheless. He gave Grayson’s cheek a last caress. “Find a bedroom for us.”

Grayson’s lips curled into a genuine smile and some hot spots of color bloomed on his cheeks. “You know we have a lot to do today, right?”

“I know. Just find us someplace nice that we can claim later,” Ryder told him.

“It shall be done.” Grayson saluted and headed towards the stairs.

Ryder knew that Grayson would find a window and be watching things from the shadows in case he was needed. But he was doing a good job of pretending he was perfectly fine letting Ryder go ahead without him. Ryder couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as he turned back to Demos and Siban.

“He hides it well that he will be watching all that is happening and keeping us safe,” Siban said.

“Yes.” Ryder laughed.

“I almost believed him when he said he trusted us to keep you safe.” Demos snorted.

“I know, right? Well, let’s show him there’s nothing to worry about. No matter how many unwelcome guests there are,” Ryder said.

He strode out of the palace. As he did so, he stretched out his hands and touched the statues’ heads that flanked the stairs.

The flames burned brighter. Ryder found he had an extra pep in his step as he walked towards the crowd with Siban and Demos flanking him.

He stopped at the very edge of the Weryn Palace property and stood there, observing the crowd.

Those who had been nearest to where he now stood scattered backwards.

Ryder kept an easy smile on his face, showing some fangs.

He recognized only a few of the Vampires there from his old House.

They were at the edges of the crowd, which was one hundred strong and going.

His sense of smell told him that there were Vampires from many Bloodlines present, though none of the ones from current Immortal Bloodlines like Siban had said.

They all stood there--silver eyes glowing in the moonlight--staring, unblinking, at him. They gave Demos and Siban a good glance too but they knew he was Weryn, even those who had not been present at the Ring the other day.

“The Weryn Palace is not open to visitors at this time,” Ryder said genially even as he cracked his large fingers.

The crowd was silent. Still unblinking.

“Did you not hear him?” Demos asked, arms crossed over his chest. “This is not a tourist destination. There are no tickets. Move it along.”

“Is it true?” A woman asked from the crowd.

“Is what true?” Ryder asked.

“Weryn… Weryn is back?” she asked. She was small, only a smidge above five-feet with straight black hair and almond shaped eyes.

“That’s what the flame says,” Ryder answered her easily. “Doesn’t it?”

“Are you… you Weryn?” A man asked. His voice held hope and fear. He was a slender man with dark skin and a scar down his right cheek.

“I am Weryn,” Ryder answered.

Silence fell again. Those unblinking silver eyes would have been unnerving if not for the fact that he was untouchable on Weryn ground as were Siban and Demos.

He felt Grayson’s gaze upon his back. He knew that if he turned and looked back at the palace that Grayson would be in one of those upper storey windows. Watching. Waiting. Guarding him.

“And what about the rest? Is that true too?” A third voice asked. Anger stained with hate and the hint of violence was in that voice.

Demos and Siban surged forward so that they were beside him, but he held up his arms and held them back.

“You are going to have to be more definite. That covers a lot of ground,” Ryder said.

“That you’re crazy. That you kill Vampires for fun. That you drink our blood and not humans.” These things were said by many voices, many throats. “That you killed your whole Bloodline. That you want to kill them. That you’re going to kill us. That you’re dangerous.”

His mind offered him flashes of the past as these questions peppered him.

He was on a battlefield and there was a storm like no other.

It ripped the sky apart. The rain threatened to lash him and the blood filled fields around him.

It would drown the earth and sweep the carnage away.

The field would be cleaned until he filled it again.

With Vampires. Not humans. Vampires were his prey.

And Immortals were his trophies. He snapped back to the present moment, sweat speckling his upper lip.

“I did many things in the War,” Ryder said, not denying them, but not apologizing for them either. “But I suppose your real question is what am I going to do now ?”

The Vampires shifted uneasily. His eyes raked over them. Weryn was silent in his head. He had a feeling he knew why. He was accepting himself a little more and it was harder to separate out the other.

He’s not an Other. He’s me.

Ryder’s eyes half hooded. He felt the animals inside of him.

To call them animals was a misnomer. They were spirits.

The spirits of all the greats. He stretched his arms out to his sides.

The line--the ghostly line--that had appeared in the Ring spread out on either side of him and the animals stepped up to the line.

Those who had been there in the Ring cringed back. Others stared with open mouths.

“I am the Immortal Weryn. This is my palace. My home. At a time of my choosing, if any of you wish to challenge me for wrongs I did to you then so be it. I will meet you eagerly,” Ryder told them, though none of them looked eagerly back.

“But if you simply fear me, know this. I serve King Daemon and so long as you are on the right side of him, you have nothing to fear from me. But stray from his good graces and you will find out exactly what the truth of me is.”

He let his words linger in the air. He knew that every ear had caught them and understood.

“Those of you who have other business with me--such as those of my Bloodline--may remain here, but the rest of you need to go away,” Ryder commanded.

Almost immediately Vampires were slinking off at a more or less rapid rate, disappearing into the darkness, jumping up onto rooftops or racing down side streets.

Soon there were only members of his Bloodline there.

He wondered if this was wise. Had he not dreaded this moment?

But Grayson was right. He had to face their judgment.

But, in the end, it didn’t matter. He was Weryn.

He was their Immortal. And all he could do was go forward.

A man with long, blonde hair, two large braids, built like Thor, the Marvel version, not the Norse one, moved through the remaining crowd like he was an icebreaker.

He stood almost as tall as Ryder. A woman with skin the color of ebony and short black hair threaded with gold wire and feathers walked beside him.

While neither of them appeared more than thirty, he knew they were old.

Maybe older than the War. His nose told him this.

He searched his memory for their faces? He wondered about their names.

Had he known them? Were they his fledglings?

Did they hate him? Did they fear him? Did they. .

Demos growled and stepped towards the two, not liking their approach. But before Demos could put his displeasure into words, the two dropped gracefully to one knee and bowed their heads.

“Weryn, our beloved Immortal” the woman said in one of the liquid accents of the continent of South Africa. “You have returned to us.”