fol-jb's Diaryland Diary

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Chapters 4 and 5

Introductions

Brittanicus looked around the room that he had been left in. He recalled his long journey from the palace, through the streets, where citizens had thrown food and garbage at him, and down into the underground passages that lead under the Coliseum. The men of the Order had dropped his cage in a dank and dimly lit room made of red stone.
A large bald man with a red, unscrupulous beard entered the room. He smelled of rancid meat, and looked as though he had just been in a fight. To Brittanicus' dismay, the man wore no shirt, making it quite easy to recognize the various scabs, pock marks, and scars that dotted his rough skin. The man had hands larger than Brittanicus' head. As he neared the cage, the man bent down, smiled through broken teeth, and said in a strange accent, "'Ello mate. My name is Killian. I'll be watchin' ova ya durin' ya stay 'ere at the Coliseum. You'll be 'ere for a qui' a while, so I reccomend 'at you get nice an' comfy. You an' I are gonna get ta know each' otha real good."
Brittanicus retorted, "I look forward to spending enough time with you to learn whatever language it was that you just spoke."
The man's mouth abandoned its porous smile and instead adopted an angry frown. Sweat dripped from his massive form as he uttered, "You betta' watch ya mouf, Bloodsucka, or I'll take 'em fangs right outta ya head."
"I am pleased to have made your acquaintance as well," said the Vampire with an air of obvious sarcasm.
Killian looked up at the cage bearers and said, "This is as good a place as any for this one. Leave 'im 'ere for tonight an' I'll decide in the mornin' which group ta put 'im in." As the crimson chinned behemoth made his way out, he eyed Brittanicus contemptuously.
Once the guards released him from the cage, they threw him against the wall and then left, closing a large iron gate behind them as they left. Brittanicus looked at the bars. They were spaced too close together for him to slip through, slim though he was. He tested their integrity by ramming his shoulder into them. They held.
"You won't get out that way," explained a voice from the darkness. "There is only one way out of here, and it takes much more finesse than charging mindlessly at a wall. I see that you also met dearest Killian. You must forgive his manners; he has not the sense to improve them. Nor, I suspect, would he want to if he could."
Brittanicus spun to see a man standing in the corner. He had been too preoccupied by the large bald man to notice him before. Now, as he looked at this newcomer, his vampire eyes allowed him to see clearly through the dark that this was not a man, but a vampire. "What is your name, brother?"
"My name is Hartican," he answered. "It seems that you and I are going to be bunkmates. I have been in this prison for six years, in this country for seventy-five, and in this world for four hundred."
Recognizing the other vampire's seniority, Brittanicus said, "I am honored to be in your presence, Elder. I am grateful for the opportunity to share a dwelling with you, a prison cell though it may be."
Hartican said, "My age and our traditions have no meanings in this place, Young One. What is your name?" Brittanicus told him. "Ah, Brittanicus," he continued, "a good name. You must always remember your name, as the men in this place will try their best to make you forget it. If a vampire has no name, Destiny cannot recognize him."
"I will remember your words, Elder," responded Brittanicus.
"As I said before, my age is of no consequence here, Brittanicus. Please call me Hartican."
"As you wish, Eld... Hartican. I humbly ask for your guidance in the ordeal that awaits me."
Surprised, Hartican said, "Ordeal? No, young Brittanicus, what awaits you here is an opportunity."
Exhausted by the night's travel and meeting so many new people in such a short amount of time, Brittanicus did not have time to enquire as to the nature of this opportunity before he was overcome by sleep.

Training

Brittanicus awoke several hours later, though he did not know whether it was day or night. In a place as dark as his new home, however, he did not have to fear the sunlight. He looked around for Hartican, the enigmatic elder vampire he had met the night before, but could not find him within the cell. He sat up and rubbed his temples, trying to organize the events of the last few days. As he did so, he heard footsteps approaching from somewhere distant. Instinctively, he looked around the cell for somewhere to hide. When he found no such place, he simply waited on his stone bed, looking in the direction of the oncoming sound.
Eventually, the man whose name he remembered to be Killian appeared. He felt fortunate to see that the man had donned a shirt. However, he was also worried to note that the portly man had also added plate armor and a belted sword to his apparel. He carried in his left hand another sword. In his right, a shirt of chain mail. He was accompanied by a man who, in contrast, seemed impossibly small. Killian jerked his enormous head toward the bars that kept Brittanicus prisoner. The smaller man unlocked the door and swung open the iron gate to the young vampire's cell.
Killian threw the chain mail and sword at Brittanicus' feet. "Put tha' on an' pick tha' up," he said in his still muddy accent. He smiled his peculiar smile and said, "Your trainin' stahts taday."
Brittanicus found himself in a circular room made of the same red stone as his cell. It was three times his height and twice that measurement in diameter. Along the walls were arched doorways with darkness within too deep for even Brittanicus' keen vampire sight to penetrate. As he observed his surroundings, Killian stepped into the room with him. Beyond one of the doors, he could see Hartican standing with four others that he perceived to be vampires. Before he could ask any questions, Killian drew his sword from its sheath at his side. As he did so, he said, "I sugges' you do the same, if ya expec' ta live ta see the sunrise." He laughed at his own joke.
Slowly, Brittanicus unsheathed his sword. He examined the intricate designs on its hilt, depicting man in elaborate plate armor fighting a great winged serpent. He assumed that the man in the armor was either a man of legend or a former Emperor. Encircling the illustration was the word, "DRaCUL."
Noticing his interest in the letters, Killian explained, "It means 'Dragon.' It's a good sword, too good fer a Bloodsucka like you. But, the last Fang tha' 'ad it said 'e wanted it ta go t' anotha vampire. 'E said tha' it belong' to 'is fatha, so I figgad it might as well jus' stay in unclean 'ands."
"I shall not forget your kindness, Mighty Killian," Brittanicus said, half mockingly, but somewhat sincerely. He looked at Killian, trying to decipher whether he had managed to make the monster angry again. However, Killian had apparently learned to control his anger since the night previous. Either that or he was now much more rested than he had been at their introduction.
"A'right," Killian began, "let's start wif a bit a basic trainin'. First, you'll attack me, an' I'll defend against your blows. Then, I will attack you, an' you will attemp' ta stay alive. Got it?"
Brittanicus smirked. His vampire reflexes would easily allow him to dodge this sluggish human's advances. How could such an obviously slow man even hope to keep up with him? There was simply no contest. Brittanicus had little experience with a sword, but he was convinced that his superior speed would allow him to overcome his attacker. "I am ready when you are, Dearest Killian."
Killian nodded as a signal for combat to begin. In attempt to catch him off guard, Brittanicus flipped backwards twice, nearing the outer wall of the subterranean arena. He then began to do another back flip, but this time his feet landed flat on the wall halfway through the somersault. With all of his might, Brittanicus pushed off of the wall, firing his body like an arrow, his arms outstretched holding the sword. He meant to impale Killian with this deadly tactic. To his surprise however, the rotund man sidestepped his attack, speedy though it was, and brought his sword down on Brittanicus' back as the living bolt flew passed him.
After the pain in his back had subsided, Brittanicus stood again and looked at Killian. "How were you able to move fast enough to evade my attack? You should be dead right now."
Killian smiled and responded, "I been 'ere a long time, Bloodsucka. Long enough ta learn a thing a two 'bout the way you rascals fight. Na it's my turn."
As he finished his sentence, he spun around, faster than Brittanicus would have thought possible, and swung his sword at the vampire's neck. Brittanicus barely had time to deflect the blow with his own sword. When he did, he was amazed by the force with which the bald man stuck. His arm shook from the reverberation of the strike. He had not thought such power possible in a human. Killian continued to rain strike after strike down on his astonished adversary. Brittanicus was able to block all of Killian's attacks, but not without a fair amount of effort.
"Not bad, fer a Bloodsucka," Killian observed.
Brittanicus asked, "Why do you insist upon calling me such a vulgar name? I use your proper name when addressing you; will you not muster the courtesy to do me the same honor?"
Killian thought for a moment. Then he replied, "'Ere ain't no hona in what you ah. But I tell ya what. If you can lan' a single hit on me, I'll call you whateva ya want. How's 'at soun'?"
"You, my friend, have got yourself a deal."
The two combatants stood opposite each other and slowly circled, waiting for the other to strike first. Killian decided to take the initiative. He brought his sword down on the ground where Brittanicus had been just a moment before. As he wheeled around, he saw that Brittanicus had jumped over him and landed behind him. He was able to put his blade between his attacker's and his chest just in time to avoid being killed. He knew that vampires were fast, but this was ridiculous. He countered quickly with three quick stabs at his opponent's shoulder, all of which were deflected before the creature seemed to disappear. Killian spun frantically in an effort to locate the demon, but was too slow. He was in the back of his left knee and was forced to kneel from the force. At that moment, Brittanicus flipped out of the air behind him and landed in front of him, head held high.
"You got a lucky 'it, 'at's all," Killian blushed. He knew it wasn't true, but he tried to hide that fact. If this vampire felt superior too early, he would be almost impossible to contain. He also knew that either he was going to have to get better at evading attacks, or he would end up dead.
The vampire responded, "Lucky or not, you must abide by your promise. From now on, you shall refer to me as Brittanicus. I shall continue to do you the courtesy of honoring your name enough to use it." With that, Brittanicus turned and walked out of the chamber the way that he had been lead in.

12:41 p.m. - 2006-02-01

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