Cromwell

By John Long and Rhyse Curtis

Alexander Cromwell: He is the last of the royal family of the first vampires. Betrayed and left for dead, the centuries have turned him into a heartless creature. He cares for nothing and for no one, with one exception. Boulder: A creature of the earth made entirely of stone is the last of the first and most powerful elementals. He is Cromwells only friend and has waited patiently through the centuries for the vampire to return. Together, they coast through the centuries, revealing themselves to the world only when necessary to protect the humans from the supernatural races.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 17, 2010
• ISBN: 9781450035866

John Long

John Long is Strategic Professor in Palaeontology at Flinders University, and the author of many scientific publications as well as popular and scientific books. In 2020 he was awarded the Bettison and James Award for lifetime achievement for contributions to scientific research and science communication.

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CONTENTS

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Epilogue

PROLOGUE

Lustrian was once a magnificent city constructed entirely of marble. The city had once been the gem of the Great North, but was now a mere shadow of what it had been. Its past glories all have been forgotten; the city was crumbling beneath its own weight. The royal family had been assassinated a thousand years ago and since that night, the city had fallen under the rule of ruthless thieves’ guilds. Streets were littered with the dead victims of the vendettas that came with the guilds and sewage ran freely down the alleys. Wooden shanties had replaced the marble buildings as places of residence. Yes, the city of Lustrian seemed to be taking its last few breaths of life. The thirty thousand orcs encamped in the hills outside of the city did not do well to bolster the morale of Lustrian’s citizens. Along with the orcs, five thousand werewolves paced impatiently, waiting for the full moon. Overseeing this vast army were the members of the Moon Circle. These were the last of the vampire rulers, left over after Lord Draxton had disappeared. They hoped to gain control of Lustrian to raid the city’s vaults for answers as to the whereabouts of a certain city. The city was rumored to have existed hundreds of thousands of years previous to their time. The city was said to have been ruled by vampires and more importantly, shielded by them from the deadly sun.

Needless to say, the people of Lustrian were hopeless. Their army was virtually nonexistent, numbering barely eight thousand men. They knew Lustrian had stood on the edge of oblivion many times before, but this time the cavalry would not be coming over the hill. All stood, grim-faced, ready to accept death. All that is, except one.

He was an elderly man, fully covered by a long, hooded, and caped black traveling coat. The only impressions of his face that were visible under his cowl were his many wrinkles. Only his feet hung out from under the coat and they were covered by highly polished black boots. He was the only one in the entire city that seemed happy, if not excited, at the imminent battle to come. That, perhaps, is why he was given the name Crazy Aletraz.

What’s the matter, boy? asked the old man as he helped a young boy to his feet, when the latter had just fallen. What ye cryin fer?

Sir, don’t you know we’re all going to die? the boy asked, puzzled.

Of course, we are, replied Aletraz, but not today.

How can you say that! exclaimed a woman standing near to the couple.

The name Cromwell means anythin’ to ye? Aletraz asked slyly with a large grin.

You mean the vampire that supposedly shows up when Lustrian is on the edge of destruction? the woman asked, rolling her eyes.

Yes, answered Aletraz.

He’s a myth, remarked another boy, about the age of sixteen.

Oh no, he’s real, assured Aletraz. And so is his friend Boulder.

No he’s not! insisted the woman.

Why do you say this? Aletraz questioned.

Because he hasn’t been seen in over a thousand years, she replied, angrily. And if he were, he would have saved the royal family all those centuries ago.

Not if he thought they were not worth saving, remarked Aletraz under his breath. But I see your point nonetheless. Gather round everyone that cares to listen.

As he said this, he motioned to all those around him to sit down and listen to what he had to say.

I shall tell you the story of Alexander Cromwell, he said. But where to begin?

Aletraz paused for a long moment, thinking of the best story to tell. After several minutes, he finally decided.

I shall start at the beginning, he said confidently. Or as close to the beginning as we can get. I shall start with the night that Cromwell returned from Dementia.

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CHAPTER

1

The fire glowed in his eyes as he opened them, while his pale skin and snow-white hair that had once been jet-black seemed to reflect the light on the surroundings. He could still hear the screams of his wife as Rocs dragged her to her death. It had been nearly six centuries since the events of the horrific night had transpired. For it had been that night that had forever changed the world of the supernatural creatures that walked the Earth. As these thoughts flooded back over him, the vampire, Alexander Cromwell, quickly pushed them aside. He did not wish to relive that night again, even if it was just a memory. Cromwell had been back to this plane of existence for almost a century. For during that night of horrors Cromwell had been banished to Dementia, the deepest pit in the circle of Hell itself. There he had spent five centuries battling the dead and the most powerful demons to walk that fiery abyss. Now that he had returned, Alexander Cromwell had only one thing on his mind—Vengeance. He wanted to find the one that ruined his life and perhaps return the favor.

You know you’re not very good at sneaking up on people, said Cromwell.

I wasn’t sneaking Alexander, replied a voice from the shadows.

The voice was indeed Cromwell’s old friend Boulder’s. Boulder, though he took the form of an eight-and-a-half-foot-tall barbarian-looking man with large corded muscles and silver hair, was no human at all. Boulder was of the ancient Mountain Growers’ Clan. He was made of solid rock and was a century older than Cromwell. The Mountain Growers were the oldest civilization of creatures on the face of the Earth. This was the first time in six centuries that the two friends had seen or spoken to each other. The last time had been the very night that Cromwell was banished to Dementia and his family murdered. Boulder had managed to fight his way out of the capital city of the Vampires.

"I had heard that you had resurfaced," Boulder remarked slyly.

Yes, replied Cromwell. I have been back for almost a century actually.

I am well aware of when you came back, Boulder said matter-of-factly. I was merely pointing out that it had taken you more than a little while to make contact.

I had some personal business to attend to. House-cleaning to be specific. As he said this, an evil grin spread across Alexander’s usually calm face.

Yes, I heard, said Boulder, with a knowing smile. I understand completely.

I thought you would, replied Cromwell quietly.

So am I to understand that you have taken over management of Vampiera once again? asked Boulder rhetorically.

You understand correctly, answered Cromwell. Though I would not call Vampiera a city anymore, it is more of a relic frozen in time, a graveyard. I am all that is left of my family and people . . . except one.

By that you mean the good Senator Draxton, joked Boulder as he tried to lighten the mood.

Boulder knew perfectly well that it had been Draxton who had led the rebellion to overthrow the Cromwell family and set up his own rule over the Vampires. The only flaw in this grand scheme was that Draxton did not make sure that Alexander Cromwell was dead. This fact would prove to be a tremendous error. For there was an ancient prophesy that protected the Cromwell family’s right to rule. The first Cromwell (who was the first vampire and a very talented wizard) enacted a very powerful spell over the city of the Vampires. This prophecy stated that not while a Cromwell still lived could any other being truly rule the Vampires. Furthermore, without the Cromwells, the Vampires could never enter Vampiera again. This proved to be a hardship for Draxton. The city of Vampiera was the main reason he wanted to rule. The city was built on the bounds of the most ancient magic on Earth. The city was the jewel of the Cromwell Empire and legacy. So naturally Draxton had to build a new capital—a day’s journey to south of Vampiera in the dense forests that secluded Vampiera from the rest of the world. The relocating of the city was just a minor problem for the surviving Vampires. The magic that had protected them had been a gift from the Cromwells. Now that power was gone, they were vulnerable. Sunlight could kill them; stakes through the heart turned them to dust; and though they still retained superhuman strength, it was but a mere shadow of their former strength.

Upon returning from Dementia, Alexander destroyed the new capital city and murdered many of the new leaders. Draxton managed to escape with about five hundred loyal followers. Since that night, Cromwell had been searching all the realms to find and finish off his most-hated enemies.

He escaped, Boulder said rather than asked.

Yes, replied Cromwell. But no matter. I shall catch up to him in due time. He fled south to the Zadakan Mountains.

It was always like him to run, said Boulder in a reminiscent voice.

Yes. It was.

So why did you wish to meet here in the Grove of Oaks? Boulder asked, trying to change the subject.

Because I know how much you hate cities, Boulder, replied Alexander. I thought the wilderness to be more to your liking.

You were right.

Yes . . . I seem to have a knack for being right, laughed Cromwell.

The conversation between the two friends carried on long into the night. They joked and laughed about old times until the first rays of dawn peaked over the treetops. The two friends seemed to stop all talk and laughter and spent the next couple of hours admiring the sunrise. This was something that the two friends had done religiously everyday from the time that they met each other. That is until Cromwell was banished. Now they sat in silence and the looks on both of their faces told each other that they were thinking of their glorious days.

Finally, midday arrived and the two friends were still staring absentmindedly at the sky until finally Boulder broke the silence.

I haven’t had a good walk for centuries, he said in a reminiscent voice.

I haven’t either, replied Cromwell. I’ve spent the last six centuries fighting. Mostly for survival and a little for fun.

Knowing there was probably more than just a little fun involved! said Boulder as he started laughing.

Probably, said Cromwell as a sly