Geádor walked into the room wearing a smug smile. The day was going well, everything was perfect. Shriken stood by a window, his ancient face deep with wrinkles. He walked up to his lord and bowed low. “My lord, we have found him” he said
Shriken moved his lifeless eyes to his pawn; he had played his part well so far, perhaps he would have his uses “good, send word to count Elector, I’m sure the two have a lot of talking to do” Geádor laughed at the remark, but Shriken did not move. He was so lacking in life; a void that threatened all else. He could feel his body withering away, he knew not how much longer he could sustain himself “And Geádor” he paused, his eyes looking once more to the stone in the safe, then his eyes returned to Geádor “The stone refuses to reveal its secrets, I need blood.”
Geádor nodded “I shall send someone.” He didn’t make it to the door; Shriken pounced upon him in seconds. “I don’t think so Geádor, the stone will only accept the blood of the tainted, and you are tainted with the power of necromancy”
Geádor struggled as Shriken pulled him towards the centre of the room; his legs flailing out, his body writhing to be free. “Let me go, let me go”
Shriken lashed out with his fist and connected with Geádor’s jaw line. He crumpled before the clenched fist, blood trickling from his mouth. Shriken bent low over him, his fangs jutting out; it had been too long since his last feed. His razor fangs pierced the soft flesh. Blood pulsed through his mouth; fresh blood, young blood. He felt his form shifting, his skin reddened, he felt his own heart beat for the first time in millennia. He chewed on the lifeline, power and blood rushing back to him. The boy’s sacrifice had been worth it: for now he had power; power to destroy Alice.

He left the body still bleeding; the boy’s eyes had long since whitened. He had never known the truth; the fact that he had served a vampire, the fact that all he had worked for was the Empire’s demise. Shriken had taught the child necromancy, he had watched as the boy raised his parents and fell into tears as they crumbled again, after all of it, he still had not guessed. He felt no remorse for the boy, only power. Blood pulsed through his veins once more; he could feel it writhing beneath his skin. He walked over to his long locked rooms; he opened the accursed cabinet that contained his cursed items. He pulled on his old robes, black as night and as thick as armour. He placed his fell cloak around his neck; he clipped it on with his golden clasp. He stared down at the fell blade that he had once wielded, its handle built of silver, it’s blade of crude obsidian. He ran his finger along its length; it felt good to hold it again. He ran his hands along his face; it was really him, just like millennia ago, ha had risen from the ashes!

He walked over towards the safe and saw his own youthful face reflected upon its surface. Its metal surface showed his dark silky hair, his wild red eyes. He clicked open the small chest and stared in wonder at the stone inside. Faces danced along its surface, souls of mortals long dead and the beating hearts of his fellow spectres. But it was not to free them that he had needed the stone, to bring more would be more rivals; alone he would have the power to rule the world. He dreamt of glory as he bit into his arm, his own blood trickling down his forearm and onto the surface of the stone. One drop was enough; it dripped onto the surface and spread like butter across the sphere’s surface. Shriken stepped back as the surface of the sphere turned a dark red, its surface hidden beneath an ocean of blood. The surface was shifting, like the tides of a sea, blood rippling across its surface. Shriken approached it and placed his hands upon it, his heart barely beating as he beheld the wonder before him. Instantly the red ocean began to part, a great sphere of orange light pulsing inside it. Power writhed within the stone, and Shriken tasted it. It was like nothing he had ever felt; only minutes ago he had been frail and dying, now he was young with more power than ever before. He raised the stone as high as he could. It emitted a great aura that served to fuel Shriken’s power. He laughed manically; bathing in the radiance of the stone. He raised his hand and shot a beam of pure power at the metal box that had contained the great orb. It flew across the room in pieces, its frame shattered and melted by the blast of magic. Shriken let out another manic laugh. He turned his head towards the lifeless corpse spread over his rich carpet. He thought for a second, and then pointed his hand at the corpse. A hand began to move.

Count Elector was not renowned for his mercy, nor did he intend to show it. Word had reached him of his assignment: Shriken seemed to have found a use for the hunter’s whelp. He was looking forwards to it too, his orders were not to harm him in any way, but after their last meeting he knew that wasn’t likely. He walked slowly towards his estate. Several people greeted him with gracious smiles and polite nods. He was quite well known in the city, and well liked; by day he worked as a healer of the sick, but of course people could tell that from his green robes and his jade eyes. He was lucky that his eyes could change, if anyone knew his secret his image would rapidly change. Of course the people he treated were never really saved, but no one heard about the tragic deaths of his patients’ only days after treatment. But Shriken needed him as his voice in his weakened state, and that required him to remain strong and fresh, with blood flowing through his veins. It had crossed his mind several times whether he was doing the right thing: serving a vampire whom was weaker than himself when a great host of his kin lurked only a day’s march away in Drakwald. But he knew it was too late to turn back now, Shriken was strong again, and he had given orders he needed to be completed.

He reached his estate and marched through the gates without looking at the guards, they never spoke to him, though they didn’t know, they remained highly suspicious of what really went on in Elector’s life. Of course that was understandable, leaving the house without a reason then returning each morning looking fresher than when he set out, he knew one day they would guess, but he was prepared for when it came. He made his way across the sparse garden; there were no plants, or flowers here, though a few herbs grew on the soil. He preferred it that way; the less life in the world the better. The house was large, yet another perk of being a healer in such a city. He walked up to the oak front door and opened it, no locks on his house, few people ever ventured near it. His feet barely brushing the carpet as he entered his home. There was no one else here, why would there be? He relaxed slightly knowing this and returned to his normal form, removing his day-time clothes and walking around bare to the elements. His eyes shifted to their natural red and his fangs jutted back out from their grooves. He walked up to his rooms up a large spiral staircase and poured himself a glass of red liquid. The rich smell of blood wafted up into his nose as he lifted his glass. He drank it with pleasure, grateful for the young maid who provided it. He gladly drained another glass before walking to his shelves, black robes folded delicately on its wooden surface. He carefully picked up each garment, putting on the dark robes and thick metal plating. He looked in the large mirror and saw the back wall. He sighed, being a vampire did have its drawbacks. He carefully retrieved his sword from its innate stand; he placed it on his waist belt and looked outside: it was nearly dark, soon he would strike.

Daekon was restless as he walked around the plaza; he had to know were Alice was. He had seen the way she had served the vampire, it had tortured him to watch her take her master to his goal. He had felt his heart all apart then; she had betrayed him, all of them, her father, her friends, all had meant nothing to her. But something inside him knew Alice was still there, she would never abandon him, she had fought with him to the end, she had been ready to die with him, and love of that kind cannot be broken so easily. He had been one of the few survivor’s who escaped, killing their servant captors and fleeing from their hordes. He had fought with his elites to get the women and children out, about forty of their company made it before they were forced to abandon the others. Alice’s father was amongst that forty along with himself. They were now back inside the city, back with their fellow hunters.

But Daekon and his fellows knew something was wrong, the brotherhood had closed its doors; something was happening that they weren’t allowed to see. The whole mission may have been a ploy; an attempt to be rid of the few hunters who weren’t in on the plan. There was a mole inside too; the vampires had known they were there, and they had been waiting, they may have even been there before them. Daekon shuddered at the thought, something very sinister was taking place in this city, and something told him he was part of it. His second man came up to him “Daekon, there is a man here, says his name is Caksin, reckons something has happened in the brotherhood”
Daekon kept walking as he spoke, he was a busy man “Good, tell him to meet me in my chambers”
“Yes sir” the man scurried away into one of the many side passages.
Daekon continued his way to the office, he knew the man would be waiting for him; the secret passages and alleyways meant you could cross the plaza in minutes. He saw his chambers next to the military checkpoint and lengthened his stride; he couldn’t help but feel someone was watching him. He looked out at the horizon and watched as the sun began its final plunge over the edge. He turned his gaze back to the building as the light began to hurt his eyes. He opened the door and closed it behind him after checking he hadn’t been spotted. He turned to see a brute of a man standing there, two great spiked maces hanging from his waist. He eyed up his guest to make sure he was who he said he was then smiled “Take a seat.”

The man was half-ogre; that much was clear, he didn’t bring up his heritage however, the news he bought could not be viewed as light-hearted by socialising. His voice was deep as he recounted his tale. “The man, who employed me worked for your brotherhood, said something about a critical moment approaching and how Drakwald was something to do with it.”
Daekon nodded, he knew this much already from others. He drank more of his water before the man continued “I went along with his orders and met with another five of the order. We snuck out of the city in a military convoy, one of our number, Shak, broke away when we left the convoy”
Daekon frowned; he had heard about the convoy, it sounded like the same one that had been sighted with Alice upon re-entering the city. “Tell me, this Shak, what did he look like? Brown hair? Tall, pretty skinny?” He had been inside the city when the convoy had passed through the city; he had seen the man at the rear. Only he had black hair.
Caksin shook his head “No, his hair was black, but the rest is true.”
Daekon sighed, now we know who the mole is. “I’ve seen him; he returned to the city with the convoy, they had my wife.” He punched the table hard and bit his gum, gods damn them!
Caksin looked at him mournfully, then his expression changed to thoughtful “I’m sorry, er, your wife, her name’s, her name is Alice, isn’t it?”
Daekon raised his head from the table and unclenched his and “You know something?” he asked hopefully. The large man began to speak in a hushed tone, Daekon leaned in, ecstatic that he finally had a lead.

It was long past dark when the guest finally left, Elector had almost fallen asleep with the boredom, but now he was gone, and now he was ready. He could see his prey’s shadow in the window, drinking the last of his rich liquor. Elector felt his lips burning, he needed blood, it would only be a small bite, besides; the curse of vampirism should keep Daekon in check. He remembered the last time he had fought with this gallant warrior, that day in the village. He had been so determined to protect Alice, would he fight her now? He doubted it, but it was not his place to say so, he slowly made his way into the small crowd of people clustered around the nearby alley.

Daekon rested himself on the seat, a book in hands. He finally had a chance o relax when the door swung open. He rolled his eyes in annoyance and slammed the book onto the side-table “What the bloody hell do you want at this hour?”
A tall figure stepped into the building, its eyes a crimson red, its raven hair draping along his shoulders. Daekon grabbed his silver pistol and aimed for the creature’s neck. A single shell left the gun, its deadly contents soaring towards its target. The vampire swerved sideways as the bullet sailed over its shoulder. He watched his target reload and raised his hand. The gun flew from its owner’s hand, rending two fingers out of place as it sailed towards its new master. Daekon screamed as he grasped his fingers, keeling over in pain. He stared in anger at the grinning vampire and grabbed his sword. He charged forward but was stopped dead. He raised his arms and his knees were forced to the ground, he could feel his sword in his hand dangling uselessly. The vampire laughed as he struggled against his invisible shackles “Feel familiar?”
Daekon stopped squirming; his eyes piercing a hole in the vampire’s head “You.” With that single word the spell broke; Daekon pushed himself from his prison and flung his sword wildly at the vampire whom was barely able to stumble out of the way. Daekon slashed the creatures face; his blade drawing a line of blood from the vampire’s cheek to his mouth. The vampire grabbed Daekon and bet his arm backwards, taking the sword from his hand. “Big mistake Daekon” he said as he bit into his neck. Daekon felt the two teeth sink into his neck. He felt the blood rush from him and and rolled over as world went black.

He was in the castle, he was sure of that. Maybe they had rescued him, maybe the vampire was dead. Then he remembered how he had been bitten, he could feel the wound in the side of his neck. No, if the vampire was dead then so would he, which left one option: the vampire had taken him to the castle. It seemed suicide as he was carried along the corridors, capturing someone only to take them into an even better secured fortress? He laughed at the idea. At east he was in the castle now, maybe he could find Shriken; find out what was really happening with Alice. He was lowered from the creature’s back and allowed on his own two feet. He was facing a doorway, etched in gold. His first thought: Shriken. The door was opened and he and the count walked in, Elector walking over to a bottle of red wine as if he was welcome here. He looked to the window, but that wasn’t Shriken. He looked similar, a more youthful Shriken from a time long gone. White teeth flashed and black robes wrapped his body. His voice was unquestionable though “Ah, Daekon, come, I have a little job for you.”