Runic Awakening

Prologue

"Daddy!"

Ampir leans back in his chair, watching as his four year old son Junior sprints from the sandy shore of the Great River toward him, a huge grin on the boy's face. Grandpa trails behind, hardly able to keep up. Junior rushes up to Ampir, nearly bursting with joy.

"I did it!" he gushes. "I skipped a stone!"

"Good job buddy," Ampir replies, leaning forward and tousling Junior's hair affectionately. Grandpa walks up from behind the boy, shaking his head ruefully.

"Nothing like kids," he pants, " — to make you feel goddamn old."

"I'm already feeling it," Ampir admits. Grandpa snorts.

"Bull," he gasps, " — shit!"

Ampir chuckles, then hears footsteps behind him. He twists around to see his wife Vera walking up to them.

"Time for bed Junior," she announces, kneeling down. "Give me a hug!" Junior runs up to Vera, giving her a big bear hug. Then he turns to Ampir, giving him an equally fierce one before being swept away.

"All right Junior," Grandpa interjects, picking Junior up and holding him at his hip. "Grandpa's gonna tuck you in tonight!"

"Mommy?" Junior asks. "What's bull-shit?"

"The fact that Grandpa keeps using bad words around you," Vera answers, giving her father a look.

"Sorry honey," Grandpa grumbles.

"Goodnight Dad," Vera says, kissing Grandpa on the cheek. "Don't teach Junior any more new words."

"If I do, they'll be good ones," Grandpa promises with another grin. "Come on, kiddo! Grandpa's going to tell you a hell of a story tonight!"

Ampir watches them make their way across the backyard to the house in the distance, then sighs, turning to face the Great River. Over two miles wide, the river flows slowly westward, flecks of orange light glinting from its dark waters. The setting sun sends a splash of orange-red across thick, angry-looking clouds. Beyond the river lies Stridon, the capitol of the Empire.

"See something you like?" Vera inquires, taking a seat beside him.

He turns to her, managing a smile. "Always."

She leans into him, and he puts his arm around her. They sit in silence for a while, watching the river. The fire pit nearby crackles softly. It is the kind of evening that feels almost too perfect — the kind that makes you hold your breath, afraid that acknowledging it will make it disappear.

"They're afraid of you," she warns. Ampir smirks at her.

"They should be."

Vera falls silent. They sit there, the fire slowly dying before them. The dark clouds above roll slowly toward the city, blocking out the stars. Ampir feels Vera's other hand rest on his upper thigh, and turns to face her. The front of her nightgown clings to her every curve, and he finds himself staring again. His heart thumps in his chest, and he glances up, finding her gazing back at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Junior will be asleep soon," she informs, her hand sliding up his thigh.

Ampir turns his head, glancing back at their house — at the second story window of their son's bedroom. Four years old already, and Ampir had barely gotten to spend time with Junior, working day and night for the Council. Four long years, wasted on the Empire. That will change tomorrow.

The windows shatter.

Glass bursts into the living room, and then the living room wall explodes inward, plaster and wood flying at them. A shockwave slams into Ampir, hurtling him backward into the stone wall behind him. His head bounces off of the stone, pain lancing through his skull. He feels himself falling down the stairs, the world spinning madly around him.

Then his head smashes into the floor at the bottom of the stairs, stars exploding in the periphery of his vision.

Time slows to a crawl.

Ampir hears Vera screaming, feels her land on top of him, her auburn hair spilling over his chest.

"Ampir!" she shouts.

Ampir reacts reflexively, pulling cords of power into his mind's eye, twisting them around each other to form a throbbing knot in the center. He shoves the knot outward, and a translucent blue sphere appears around them — just as a second explosion hits. The living room disintegrates, debris hurtling at them at deadly speed. It ricochets off of the sphere harmlessly. When the dust settles, Ampir is on his hands and knees inside the sphere, Vera clinging to him.

"Come on!" Ampir orders. He sprints down the hallway, struggling to pull more threads of power into his mind's eye — but nothing comes. Something is draining it. Something close.

He passes the stairwell, spotting a half-dozen men in black armor rushing up the stairs toward them.

"Go, go!" he urges, rushing down the hallway, Vera right at his heels, Grandpa at the rear. They reach the end of the hallway, then turn left down another, this one lined with windows on the right. Footsteps follow them, closing in fast. Ampir glances back, seeing the armored men turning the corner behind them. Starlight reflects off of the daggers in their hands.

"Ampir!" Vera warns.

A man smashes through the window to Ampir's right, slamming into Ampir's side and shoving him against the wall. Ampir pushes back, sees a flash from the man's dagger as it thrusts toward his belly. Ampir twists to the side, feeling a sharp pain in his flank as the blade grazes him. He grabs the man's wrist, wrenches it sideways — and hears the crack of bone.