The Sanguis Prince

Hello! I hope you are having a wonderful Christmas, as I am posting this on the 25th of December. I finally got feedback from a short story competition that I entered back in October. The theme was Vampires and Werewolves, and unfortunately, I did not place, but nonetheless, it was fun to write a 2k-word story, edit it the best I could, and submit it in just ten days. Here is the story, I hope you enjoy it, and also I included the feedback that was given to me, which I must say, as good as the feedback is and I agree that I have much to learn...my main protagonist does not die so there were some thoughts after reading the feedback if the person judging my story even read it in the first place. I don't know, you be the judge of what you think, and let me know!

*Also, look at the group's posts for recent updates if you want to know what I have been up to.

The Sanguis Prince

When a king must defend his people, he will do what he must, albeit at a costly price. A member of the Security Corps for the Merchant’s Guild will take on the task of doing a king’s dirty work and relieve the prince of his suffering. 

Ziro looked toward the city square of Wurenth, where a man wearing armor with the king’s coat of arms heralded for aid. The black basalt and weathered granite surrounded the tapestry of the city, and the tall spires of buildings were shrouded in mist as the early morning fog lingered. Ziro assisted the blacksmith in unpacking the caravan wagon.

“Pay no mind to the king’s guard, lad,” said the blacksmith, grabbing iron ores from the wagon. “If knight errants refuse to do the king’s bidding, there should be no reason why any of us should.”

Ziro nodded in agreement, but he was still curious as to what this was all about. In all his travels, he had not seen a king plead for the assistance of the commonwealth. After unloading the wagons, many of the security corpmen strolled to the nearest tavern. Ziro hailed them, saying he would join them later, but first, he wanted to hear what the captain of the king’s guard had to say, which seemed to anger many people in the square. 

“Five! Five thousand gold! For the brave soul to kill the beast of Hollow Road,” the captain kept saying, standing on top of a wooden platform. “Five thousand! Minimum! The king is willing to barter. Hee Hoo! Will you not serve the people of Wurenth!”

As Ziro walked closer to get a better look at the decree that the captain was holding. The captain glanced at Ziro’s curious face.

“You there! Young lad, how would you like for people to sing songs of your triumphant deeds, huh?” The captain held a long piece of parchment on which the court painter had sketched a detailed head of a massive bear. 

“Kill the beast, return victorious, and you will not have to lift a finger all winter long… courtesy of the king, of course!” Remarked the captain. “If it is a mere bear, then why not one of the knight eerants-”

“They have,” interrupted the captain. “Many attempts, but they have all failed. We have sent search parties only to find the remains of the knights. All mauled and,” the captain closed his eyes and shook his head.

“I-um, am interested,” said Ziro acquiesently after taking some time to process the words uttered by the captain. He was not sure why he was interested; he had never been a bounty hunter or considered himself a great sportsman. He joined the Security Corps for the Merchant’s Guild because it was the cheapest way to learn how to properly wield a sword, rather than when one did not have the funds or connections to be considered for a knight’s squire. But he relished a good challenge; he had killed many creatures, including wild boars and bears, in his younger days growing up in the druid groves of Adamant. He was skilled with the bow and preferred it over his sword. This can be some easy gold to hold me through the winter, thought Ziro.

He followed the captain to the king’s castle. The halls of the king’s palace were ancient. Ziro could smell the wet stone and faint metallic tang that he could not quite pinpoint. The little sunlight that pierced through the outside fog now slashed through the narrow stained-glass windows from up above the vaulting ceiling. Dust could be seen dancing through the beams of light, while shadows moved inconsistently from the torches on iron sconces. Grotesque gargoyles and bat-like creatures protruded from the cornices of pillars leading toward the throne. Ziro walked behind the captain, feeling watched by the stone figures who perched like predators.

Two guards standing below the platform of the throne stood at attention upon seeing the captain approach the throne. Ziro saw what he suspected were the treasurer and the chamberlain turn to see the pair drawing near, and stepped aside as the king turned his attention to the captain of his guard.

“My lord,” said the captain. “This brave gentleman has agreed to the task of vanquishing the beast that has terrorized Hollow Road.” 

The king shifted on his throne, looked at the captain and at Ziro with a troubled expression, then spoke. 

“Is this true?”

Ziro bowed and responded, “Yes, your highness.”

The king nodded in silence, got up, and made a gesture to a guard who later returned with an object wrapped in a leather cloth.

“Many have failed,” said the king, walking down the steps of his platform, approaching Ziro and the captain. “Are you certain to undertake this quest?”

Ziro nodded again and stared at the king’s dried crow’s feet. 

“What is your weapon of choice?” Asked the king.

“Ugh, bow, your majesty,” responded Ziro.

“You must forget your bow then,” stated the king. “What you will find is no ordinary bear, its hide is too thick for any arrow to pierce…you will need this.” The king stretched out his arms, revealing an ebony-infused steel dagger with red gems in the handle.

Ziro took the dagger and was surprised by its weight; to him, it felt like a regular sword. 

“May Ydon favor you in this quest,” said the king in a saddened tone and turned to walk back to his throne. 

Ziro grabbed his supplies and rode to where the captain had informed him of the last location of this beast of Hollow Road. When Ziro arrived at the location of the last caravan attack, where the body of the previous adventurer was found, he felt a stillness in the air. The insects were not chirping, and no birds sang their songs from branches. The woods were dense, and the farther Ziro looked into the distance, the less space he would see; only a wall of tree bark could be made out. After inspecting the area for a few minutes, Ziro could make out a few imprints in the mud, along with splintered wood from wagons and torn cloth, but nothing that could lead to a clear trail or bear prints. 

His senses were on alert as he was inspecting the area, and he already had an arrow nocked when Ziro quickly turned around and almost released the arrow, only to find a satyress smirking leaning by a tree.

“You’re not going to find anything here,” she said.

Ziro lowered his bow and looked around the area.

“You’re the new fool, I’m assuming?”

“It’s just a bigger bear, nothing I can’t handle,” replied Ziro. 

The satyress laughed and pulled out a wooden flute. She sang a quick melody mocking Ziro for underestimating his foe.

“Follow me, fool,” she said after finishing her song. “What you are looking for is no bear, it is Prince Antioko.”

“Pardon?” replied Ziro.

“Yes, yes,” said the satyress. “Many years ago, King Pirron made a contract with one of the witches of Drotris to stop the invading Krut from taking over these lands. The people of Wurenth won, but at a price. The price for signing that contract with his blood was that his own son would begin to change. He changed into a creature of the dark, a bloodsucker. He was discovered by a few of the king’s men one dreadful night, draining the blood of a poor noble woman after a banquet. He fled, and over time, he became more glutinous and slowly morphed into an unrecognizable fiend.”

“How do you know all this?” Asked Ziro.

“Because these woods are my home, and he has infested them. For a time now, the king has sent various champions to rid his son of this curse, but they have all failed. I can show you where he dwells, but no mere arrow or sword will cut him. I’m assuming King Pirron gave you what you need?”

Ziro unsheathed the black dagger and showed it to the satyress.

“That cursed dagger you hold is the only thing that can kill the prince.”

“If that is so, then why did the king not tell me, or why have you not grabbed it from others and used it yourself?”

The satyress smirked and stated, “When he made the contract, he knew what would happen, but he has been too cowardly to take it upon himself. And for your second question, I did try. After the first champion was defeated, I almost lost my life too, but I am no warrior; I barely escaped. Now I try to help the best I can, maybe you will be the one to end Prince Antioko’s suffering, or maybe you’ll become his next meal.”

With the new information that Ziro had obtained, he quickly began searching the ground and foraging for different weeds and grasses while the satyress looked on, confused.

“What are you doing?” She asked, watching Ziro grab a few herbs, squish them together, and roll them on a nearby boulder, packing them into a green ball.

“My mother was one of the druids in the groves of Adamant. They would speak of curses that would turn people into wretched things like this bloodsucker you speak of, a sanguisator. The druids would have these recipes that one could consume for protection. I always thought it was just tales to keep us children from wandering into the woods, but we learned the recipes anyway, now I’m learning that maybe there is truth to those tales.”

Ziro chewed on the packed herbs and continued to follow the satyress who said nothing. They trekked for a mile when the satyress pointed and whispered that they had arrived at the lair of the prince. Ziro, confused, wondered what she was talking about, for there was nothing but continuous miles of trees in front of them.

“It’s an illusion, there is where he dwells,” the satyress pointed. “We’ll have to draw him out or wait for nightfall.”

Ziro looked around the heavily wooded area and decided that right there would be the best chance before it became completely dark. The satyress climbed a tree nearby and used her flute to make an eerie sound. It was faint, but it made Ziro nervous. Before him, the illusion disappeared, and what was once thick trees in front of him now lay an ominous cave.

Ziro had a hard time controlling his breathing, but instinctively shot an arrow at the winged, hairless, leathery-skinned sanguis creature that was covering its ears as it writhed its way out of the cave. The arrow bounced off its hide, and Ziro quickly heard the satyress call him an idiot.

“Use the dagger!” She yelled from the tree top.

Ziro unsheathed his sword and held the dagger in his off hand, afraid to approach the creature as it regained its bearings. The beast screeched and lifted its body with its powerful leathery wings. It looked at both the satyress and Ziro; the satyress shifted her weight on the branch, ready to jump to avoid the inevitable attack. But Ziro yelled at it and stepped forward, holding his sword in a defensive position. The sanguisator plunged toward Ziro, and Ziro pirouetted to avoid its sharp talons, but he was not fast enough. As the sanguisator wrapped its powerful arms around Ziro, it instantly bit down on Ziro’s neck.

“NO!” Screamed the satyress as Ziro flailed his arms trying to escape.

The slurping sound soon stopped as the sanguisator stepped back, its screech turning to a gurgling as it fell, throwing up black bile. The creature writhed on the ground, then let out a strained sigh. Ziro quickly stabbed the weakened sanquisator in the heart with the black dagger while trying to put pressure on his neck. The beast’s screams were deafening, but soon became noticeable as human screams.

The satyress rushed to help Ziro; she noticed the sharp camphor odor of his blood and remarked on the benefit of the herbs he had taken. Ziro got up and watched as the features of the bloodsucker started to morph into a more humanoid form, revealing the cursed face of the prince.  Here is the feedback I received:

If you have a hard time seeing the words in the screenshots here, it is: The black basalt and weathered granite surrounded the tapestry of the city, and the tall spires of buildings were shrouded in mist as the early morning fog lingered.

You do a marvelous job at setting a gothic atmosphere and building the world with your descriptions. I especially like how you weave in things like "druid groves of Adamant", "witches of Dotris," and the god, "Ydon". They add color and depth to the world, making it feel much richer and well-lived in than what is actually on the page.

I'm a sucker (pun intended or not based on how you feel about puns) for sort of otherworldly chararacters and the Satyress fits the bill for me there. To me, she sort of becomes the star of the show as soon as she is introduced. Because she's also unfamiliar to Ziro she is a smart way for you to provide exposition through dialogue that feels natural to the story. 

One of my main questions is why did Ziro take the job? I mean you say he thinks it's "easy gold" and that he likes a challenge, but I think there's maybe an opportunity for you to explore this deeper. For example, what specifically does he need the money for? What would happen if he doesn't get it? Even if he's not desperate, which it sounds like he's not, having some outside goal that a story is interrupting can add a sense of stakes and make his ending either more tragic (that he didn't complete his goal) or satisfying (if he's a terrible person and this is his comeuppance)

Overall the plot is really well contained for a short story, but adding a bit more of a character arc for Ziro could increase the length. If you want to keep this story around 2k words, I wonder if it might be worth streamlining the beginning. While I appreciate how to slow roll out of the location, who Ziro is and how he volunteers to kill the beast, I'm not sure the pacing as it stands allows for enough development of the plot if this story stays at 2k words. 

Also, I love the twist that the vampire is the prince (though I do think the title of the story spoils this a bit) and Ziro's fate is tragic. However, I'd love to see these plot beats explored just a touch further and streamlining the beginning might help you gain back the words for it. 

Similarly, I would love just a tiny bit more at the end for us to get to reflect upon the horror that the king is sending mercenaries to kill his own son. Since the story is told in 3rd person, I wonder if perhaps there is room for a short epilogue of sorts where Ziro is laid to rest and we get to observe the next mercenary prepare to fight the beast.

Something else that can help you save a few words in future short story competitions (or if you submit to magazines) is to try to cut out filtering language. If you're not aware, filtering language is words like "see", "hear", "remember", "feel", etc. Oftentimes these words draw the attention to the action of seeing, hearing, etc. rather than what is being seen, hear, etc. Removing these filtering words also has the effect of making your writing feel more active and less contemplative. Take your first line for example:

Ziro looked toward the city square of Wurenth, where a man wearing armor with the king’s coat of arms heralded for aid. 

Here you're drawing attention to Ziro's act of looking instead of what he is looking at. 

Overall, this is a strong dark fantasy story with a chilling twist. Thank you so much for sharing your work with me!

I used AI for the image since I can't sketch.