Eolian; the Queen’s Familiar
Word Count: 358
“But I’m a Familiar,” the vampire sneered, smiling at Eolian without an iota of good humor; his teeth were crooked where his canines had grown in awkwardly. An ugly creature, as most of the vampires were; but there were some, very few – he’d never met another face to face – like him: almost human in appearance but with the arsenal of power trapped beneath the flimsy layers of epidermis and muscle tissue.
“That gives you no right to speak for the Queen,” Eolian howled, his voice splintering as it echoed in the caverns of his home. He did not debate over his actions – he swung out, the back of his hand cracking hard against the jaw of his subordinate. The blow resounded, following the faint traces of his outburst like a delayed shadow.
There was stillness in the Gathering Room’s antechamber; he was surrounded by other Familiars, and yet, he stood out. A bright spot in a room of darkness. There were droplets of blood on his hand but he ignored them.
“Some of us wonder,” murmured the Familiar, “where you get the authority to act on her behalf, when we cannot even speak on it.”
“Is this true?” Eolian turned on the others in the room, his grey eyes backlit with a fury so bright it appeared as a lightning storm in the clouds of his irises. Were they all truly that ignorant? None could meet his glower, and he wanted to say See? This is why, you fools; you’re no more than cowards in the shadows. Instead, he growled, spittle flying from his lips with the violent way he formed the words, “Because she sees through my eyes, and I feel her occupy me. I know her thoughts as swiftly as I know my own. Because she exists simultaneously in her own body and in mine, you mongrels. How do you live in a world you don’t even understand?”
He wiped the blood from his hand onto the vampire’s shirt, a grimace of disgust twisting his features. He tossed them all a single withering glance before he left for his chambers, muttering, “You should all be burned.”