Each day, he looked at the horizon from the summit of the towers. Eventually, smoke rose in the distance, faint yet undeniable. And after every dawn and dusk, it flowed higher into the sky, creeping closer.

It was a matter of time until it happened, yet the moment was still shocking. His silver eyes watched in horror as the first refugees fled into the fortress. All had left behind their towns and homes, for they had been assaulted and taken.

Each day, more civilians sought the safety of the stony fortification. At first, they came from outer regions, near the borders. But it did not take long for inner villages to fall as well, and their denizens were forced to abandon them all the same.

The insurgents were marching towards the capital of her land, which loomed over the vast fields around it. It was the core of her domain, her last bastion. Her kingdom was falling apart, every day more torn by her foes.

She had never shown clemency towards any aggressors before, yet she was faltering now. Their enemies were closing in, but she was barely doing anything to halt them. Her brethren could not do much to defend their land, for she made an edict that obstructed their efforts. She dictated that no harm was to befall the human general.

Nerys did not want Lyssa dead. Sadly, that wish supposed a death sentence for them all, because she was the one to lead that army with lethal precision. She always was the first to charge against their barricades and frontlines, slaying any vampire that stood in her path. Anything that blocked her strides towards them was burned to the ground.

They did try to fight, end her troops. But it was an approach that was ineffective and costly. If she did not fall, the army would never falter. She was the heart of the invasion that would bring them down.

Bastian could only watch as those banners crept closer and closer, each day looming more in the horizon. Nerys observed them too, both looking down at the approaching army from the tallest rampart. His eyes narrowed sadly, for she was growing more desperate, each day feeling more cornered. Her people were being threatened, by someone she did not wish to wound or see bleed.

“What to do…” Bastian sighed, because Nerys paced back and forth, like many other days. “What can I do?!”

He gave her a tired look, much more composed, even if he was as afraid. Once more, he tried to reason, debate their options.

“First of all, I say you should take a damn breath and calm down. Then, you should definitely do something. Anything is better than nothing.”

They had lost too many settlements already, due to her reluctance and fear. A lack of leadership was always fatal for any domain or force. She knew it, but she still growled and faced him with a crestfallen and angry glare.

“There is only one thing I could do to save us! But I can’t do it! I’m incapable of killing her!” Bringing down a leader was a fast way to take down an army, both knew it. “You don’t want her dead either! So what would you do, huh?!”

“Well, if you ask me…” He snarled, to then lean a little more on the parapets, to observe intently the banners that flowed in the distance. “I don’t want her to die, but I know we must take some form of action, so… You should talk to her. We can’t force her away without killing; she will never desist in her march. She has never been one to surrender or fear! Understand that fact already, Nerys! No matter how many soldiers you send, no matter how many of her men you slay, she will keep moving forward. Arrange a parley, face her!”

“I can’t speak to her!” She bit her lip and brushed her face with her claws, remembering her murderous intent. “She will kill me without hesitation!”

He looked at her subtly, with a deep frown. There was sadness in his eyes, for he recalled clearly every single moment he had seen them share.

“Maybe she would understand… She lov-“

She did not want to hear it. He winced when she grabbed his shoulders and leaned to look him in the eye, scowling grimly as she asserted her dread.

“Bastian, she must not see me! At least not the real me! She has never doubted to run a stake through any vampire unfortunate enough to cross paths with her. Imagine what she would do to me if she found out that I…” She shook her head, losing what little composure she had. “She will be enraged by the fact that I’ve been this all this time! I don’t want her to see me like this! She will despise me for having let myself become a beast! I should have refused, accepted death and-!”

He grabbed her as well and shook her a little, even if she was much taller than him. His silver eyes pierced her, with frustrated anger.

“Nerys, get a damn grip on yourself!” Those sharp emeralds hinted hurt, because he let go and pointed strongly at the distance, admonishing. “You can’t go back to that moment and choose to die as a human! Stop clinging to the past and focus on the present! You must act, because she is coming, and you two will end up clashing eventually! She WILL slay you if you don’t let her know you’re alive! Her recognition could make her halt her hand! If you don’t stop doubting, you will have nothing left to save from her fire! Speak to her, as you did with me! It’s the only way!”

She took a step away from him and averted her gaze with a shaky snarl. His words were honest and out of care, but she was still wounded by them.

“You really believe she will listen, don’t you…” She chuckled darkly, to then motion at the gates below, bowing sardonically. “Go ahead; try to have a word with her! Let’s see if you can take a single step towards her without getting impaled by her troops!”

Bastian stared up at Nerys for a minute, intensely. She soon blinked, because he shrugged indifferently, accepting her suggestion. He took a step towards the nearby stairs, to head towards the stables and gates. Luckily, she grabbed him before he could move away from her.

“I was being sarcastic, you idiot!”

He just sighed, not bothering to resist her angry hold. They were doomed.

———–

He pointed a finger onto the map, trailing the route that their troops would follow.

“We have a chance, now. They have diverted their march slightly west, to keep the fields between them and our ramparts. Sadly for them, by trying to keep us from shooting at them… they are providing us the perfect chance to do so. They have set camp near the woods, unaware of the danger it poses for them.” Her green eyes narrowed, because he relayed a ploy that would ensure the death of many rebels. “We must send a squad through the tunnel in the dungeons, for it leads directly into the shadows of that forest. They don’t know that passage is there, and the dark of the night will veil our presence. We can fire arrows directly at their camp, from the shade of the trees. They won’t expect it, for most will be asleep at that moment, so many will perish and-“

“No.”

Bastian looked away from the map with a scowl, for his speech was interrupted, even if all were listening with approving interest. Nerys was looming at his side, glaring down at his eyes darkly.

“Nerys, you can’t be serious… It’s the perfect strike! We can send soldiers past their frontlines, unnoticed! That tunnel erases all the distance they have put between us! We can easily shoot-“

“I said no.” He gave her an incredulous look, because she closed her eyes and gave more simple orders, which would not help them win the war. “Send more men to the fields, barricade the area. They must not reach the gates.”

Her officials nodded with resignation, knowing well why she rejected his ploy.

“Yes, sire…”

They voiced their compliance, and that was all Nerys needed to walk away, without further word. Bastian snarled in anger and glared holes through her. She was not surprised when he chased, the only one who dared confront her. He dashed into the adjacent corridor after her, shouting.

“Nerys!” She tried to evade him, even if she knew it was in vain. He kept on following her, matching her strong steps with fast ones, calling all the while. “Don’t you dare ignore me again!”

He lost his patience, and so, he proceeded to fasten his pace to catch up with her.  She had refused to consider his schemes, all of them. They would have allowed her to counter fiercely their foes, but she rejected them.

Nerys finally halted, because Bastian grabbed one of her arms strongly. He managed to turn her around with a pull, forcing her to face him.

“Listen to me, dammit!” He pointed back towards the throne room, with a deep snarl. “What the hell is wrong with you?! That plan was flawless! It would have made them retreat greatly, and we would have won time!”

She looked at him darkly, her expression showing no emotion other than grief.

“Such an attack is bold and effective, yes. Those arrows will soar and pierce indiscriminately. She could be struck, easily.”

He did wince with those words, but his apprehension only lasted for a second. She was unfazed by his next growled demand.

“I am aware of the risk! But we can’t keep on like this! You send your troops to fight head-on, and at the same time you ask them to avoid wounding her!” He pleaded, trying to reason. “Nerys, she is smart and strong. A general like her knows how to avoid getting killed! We need to strike their forces fiercely or take her out of the equation in some way! This is a dead end!”

Bastian flinched, because there was a sudden furious glint in those green eyes. Nerys leaned close, slowly, with a threatening stance. He knew that she had not fed well for many days, and that her restlessness was easily aggravated by the thought of Lyssa getting hurt.

“Are you saying we would be better off killing her?”

He raised his hands in front of himself, trying his best to not cower away from her ominous posture and glare. Her claws were twitching subtly, so he stayed calm and chose his words carefully.

“No, I would never…” He straightened his stance slightly, knowing he had to be firm. “I’m only saying that we need to act decisively, or we will die instead. Look, maybe we could arrange a daring incursion, with just a few men. We could sneak into their camp, in the middle of the night, and find her. Not to kill her, of course. We would kidnap her, arrest her, whatever you want to call it. She would not be hurt, we would just take her away. I-if she resists, we just keep her locked, until she agrees to stop burning everything.”

Nerys pondered his words for a moment, but then she averted her gaze and sighed despondently.

“I will not lock her away in a cell.”

He did not like those words, and so, he scoffed and crossed his arms.

“Double standards much? You kept me in one, for a very long time I must add.”

“I thought I was dealing with a deceitful murderer.” She raised a claw with a grimace, because she saw him open his mouth to retort. “I know! I know, alright? I’m sorry. I just…”

“She is threatening your life much more than I ever did.”

He did not say those words with scorn, but with care.

“Yes, she is doing her best to kill me.” She admitted, looking down at her huge claws. “She has good reasons to slay me, however. And I feel like I deserve it, in a way.”

She stepped slightly away, to look at the sky through the glass of a huge window. He listened while she spoke, much more calmly and thoughtfully.

“If we tried to sneak into the camp to take her away… we would fail.” She chuckled sharply, recalling bittersweet memories. “Sergius keeps watch over her at all times. He never leaves her side, and never bats an eye while she sleeps. She is the closest thing to a daughter he has, and he will never allow danger near her unless she lunges for it herself.”

“We could still manage, if-“

“Bastian, you don’t understand. I’ve already tried. I did send a few men to do exactly what you are offering, in secret. Only one came back, and by mere luck. I didn’t want to let you know, for I was ashamed of the act, even if it was much more merciful than the alternatives. I really do not wish to see her as an enemy; the thought pains me more than anything.”

Whatever hope there had been in his gaze, it faded. He asked, as lost as her.

“If we can’t take her away… What are we supposed to do?”

She took a minute to reply, and the silence hurt as much as the answer.

“I don’t know.”

Once more, he begged, knowing deep inside that there was a way out.

“Speak to her, please. Or let me. I can face her, let me try.” He said words that made her scowl again, even if he did not regret voicing them. “If she won’t halt her hand due to reminiscence, I will gladly be the one to-”

“No.”

She walked away once more, that simple word being her ultimatum. Meanwhile, he clenched his hands and cried in silence, feeling nothing but helplessness.

————

It was a matter of time. And it finally ran out. Many soldiers stood in the ramparts, holding bows and crossbows, yet they never took aim. None dared shoot at the human that yelled below, fiercely and without fear.

“Come out, you sick beast! Stop hiding in your ghastly den!” A young vampire sat against a parapet, concealed from that hateful gaze. He was covering his eyes with a hand, listening to the yells and demands bleakly. “Sooner or later, I’ll stride in and find out how many humans you have in chains! If you come out now, I will consider giving you a quicker death! You have nowhere to go! Have some dignity and fight me already! Hunting a starved beast will bring me no glory!”

He lowered his hand and peeked subtly past the parapet. Her troops were surrounding the fortress, and due to it, they had lost their chance. In a matter of weeks, she had led her forces onward, to assault the castle.

They had settled at a preventive distance in the fields, and had shielded their tents with makeshift barricades. The walls of the castle were covered with the arrows they had been shooting at their sentries. Their efforts did not end there… They had decided to build a catapult and a ram. He could see how some of her men had stayed behind by the forest, to cut trees and gather lumber. If they did not manage to take down the gates, they would make the walls crumble.

The situation was hopeless, so Bastian bowed his head and resigned to wait. He caught a glimpse of Nerys, there, in the courtyard below. Now she wore her armour at all times, to be ready. She was waiting, but she had made a choice… a deadly one.

———-

The yells echoed strongly, for a fierce siege was underway. The insurgents only needed a couple of days to build some ladders and a ram. They were trying to climb a wall and take down the gates, in order to enter the fortress. However, no matter how much they tried, they were not succeeding.

Lyssa snarled, because the clan was answering fiercely their assault. The fortress offered a huge advantage; the tall walls allowed the archers to strike her troops easily as they moved below. They were forced to step back, because many vampires came out of the gates, to prevent them from using the ram.

She was in the frontlines, slicing and burning her foes to try to reach those gates, desperate to end her hunt. There was nothing she wished more than to slay the beast she sought. She was sure that it was hiding in the deepest guts of its den.

In that, she was wrong. Her prey did not wish to keep her waiting any longer. She gasped in pleased surprise, because a black steed stepped through the gates. On it, was the tall lord, dressed in that jagged armour.

Her green eyes sharpened below her draconic helmet, due to her own will. With all their humanity gone, she dared meet those ochre eyes, which glared with flaming fury. There was a silent agreement between them, no words were needed. It was something common in a battlefield.

Bastian watched from a tall rampart, holding his breath. He saw the two frontlines begin to withdraw from each other slightly, to make some space on the field for their leaders. His eyes opened in horror, for Nerys advanced silently towards Lyssa.

Neither side dared make a move while the two approached each other, with resolve. He had begged her to speak up, but he could see clearly that she had no intentions of doing so. And so, he lowered the crossbow he had been firing and ran off. While he dashed for the gates, those green and ochre eyes met intensely.

Lyssa smirked heatedly, feeling how her heartbeat fastened, finally able to see her target. She kept her gaze on the vampire at all moments, glaring through that jagged armour, waiting patiently for that steed to be dismounted and left behind.

Nerys showcased a firm poised demeanour, but if she was not wearing her helmet, her resignation and sorrow would be clear. Still, there was undying determination in her gaze, and everyone could see that. When she unsheathed her longsword and stepped closer defiantly, Lyssa chuckled darkly.

Their approach was an undeniable arrangement for a duel, which would bring a faster end to their struggles. Many lords invoked such contests between them, but as well when they wished to show that they considered a human worthy as a foe.

Lyssa was not impressed by her challenge, at all. She showed no fear for her presence, unlike her troops, which now were keeping a preventive distance from them both.

“At last, you have come out of your lair, monster. Do you fear death?”

Lyssa voiced that question calmly, even if hatefully. There was rage in her, but it was controlled, reserved for their impending clash. Nerys looked down for a moment, pondering her answer.

No, I am not afraid of dying. It is your hate what I fear…

Her heart twisted, because her former love stared at her claws and strong features, every single change she suffered. There was nothing but repulsion while she looked into her sharp eyes. She could not recognize her, for her body had been warped. Still, it was better this way. She was glad to be wearing her armour, and that her red hair was tied tightly behind her helmet. Her tears would not be seen, and she could distort her voice to hide all her past humanity.

“I do not fear death.” She raised her sword and bowed her head, taking a defensive stance. “It is life what brings the most arduous of pains. Try to end mine, or the bloodshed shall continue.”

Lyssa huffed and laughed mockingly.

“How amusing…” She gave her a candid look, even if it still hinted anger. “I didn’t expect you to be this eloquent and well-spoken, vampire. Ah, but sadly, it really makes no difference.”

She still hated with all her heart and soul. And so, she pulled at the torn banner she always wore, to cover her bloodthirsty expression. She raised her hands and charged towards her with a raging yell, wielding both her sword and fire.

Their weapons clashed, at last, to grind strongly. One pushed with all her might, while the other stood firm and did not give up ground. As their gazes became fixated on each other, their troops lunged around them once more.

The battle resumed, and red kept spilling to the ground. Still, no one dared interrupt their duel. Not even an old mage stepped close, limiting himself to watch attentively their every move, fighting vampires at a distance.

Nerys huffed, swinging her sword continuously. Not a single slash was meant to wound Lyssa, for she only wished to block her thrusts and surges of fire. She was smirking furiously below her bloody mask, lunging at her with the same voracity of a vampire, while she could only waltz around her and backwards.

Her huge longsword was her only shield, the only wall that kept her twisted heart from being pierced. Yet if those ferocious strikes continued, perhaps that barrier would be breached. There was undying determination in her ochre eyes, and no doubt in her voice.

“Is this all you can do, fiend?!”

Nerys frowned below her helmet, and then pushed Lyssa back by heaving against her sword. Of course, she was unfazed by the shove, and promptly dashed to regain her ground.

As a vampire, she could do much more. She could strike precisely, with a swift slash above the human’s shoulders. Decapitations were a speciality of hers, and she rarely missed. As well, she could crush her with her bare claws, or pierce her with her nails or fangs. But she did not do any of those things. She just kept moving at her sides, blocking and sparring, hoping to disarm or tire her. Deep inside, she knew it was a vain hope.

Bastian finally dashed out of the gates, at the edge of the skirmish. He halted dead on his tracks and watched from the top of the hill, for he witnessed something terrible. Tears fell from his sharp eyes, and he could not avoid but freeze for a second.

Lyssa finally managed to strike, landing a stab past that jagged armour. It was not a lethal hit, but still severe. Nerys gasped and panted, slamming a claw onto her side, where she had been cut with an agile swing. She barely saw that move, due to the blinding flames and smoke she kept casting. That unnatural fire had given her many burns, which she resisted, but just barely. Her whole body trembled, and she did not miss how those ochre eyes glinted with satisfaction when she kneeled in pain. At last, she was able to look down at her, her stature no longer imposing.

Lyssa did not strike her down right away. She did not wish to kill yet, even if she could do so easily. Nerys tried to grasp her sword again, but it was kicked away. She was disarmed now, and she would not make a move to fight again.

After a few pained exhales, she raised her gaze from the ground, ignoring her bleeding in favour of something much more wounding. She looked into those hateful eyes, just like she did in that nightmare. She did not bother to call to her as she did in that dream, for her expression was as spiteful as she had feared. Her demise was postponed, but not for long. She wanted to interrogate her first. Her answers would determine the way in which she would end her. She heard her clearly, even if the echo of the battle around them was deafening.

“What have you done to him?” Nerys smiled desolately, for Lyssa demanded menacingly, sure that there was no recognition in her sharp eyes. “Bastian, a captain, one that you must have fought long ago. Can you remember him between all your victims? Or was his death just another atrocity that you disregarded with ease?”

Nerys could not lie. Even after her change, she was loyal to one single thing; it was not her humanity or bloodline, not even her life. She would surrender her very soul to Lyssa, if she asked for it. That was why she whispered with a less feral tone.

“I do remember…” Those ochre eyes glinted, for she said nothing but the truth. “I recall the anguish in those grey eyes, vividly.”

Nerys did not fear death, but life. She feared what Lyssa could do in her rage, greatly. Hopefully… her demise would sate her bloodlust, and make the fury in her heart fade. Perhaps she would spare Bastian if she believed him to be innocent, unwilling of serving a monster like her.

Her love could show mercy, but she did not want it for herself. She did not want to keep existing, not after seeing that horrifying vindictiveness in her eyes, invoked by her admission. She hurt them both, and she wished to pay for it.

Lyssa growled more strongly than any fledgling would, and then raised her sword. Her right hand smoked and tangled in flames, which she channelled around the blade. The strike would be deadly, not only due to the stab, but also the fire that would sink into her. She would pierce her heart, right through. Both knew she had one, even if it was twisted and tainted. Its inhuman pulse would be stopped at last, and she would find the end that she had yearned for.

No more words were shared between them. Lyssa did not wish to hear if Bastian was dead. She would stride into the fortress and see for herself if he lived. There was still a faint trace of hope in her heart, and she wanted to keep it for as long as possible. Nerys closed her eyes and stayed still, waiting for the flow of agony that would release her. The sword lunged forth towards her, but it never made contact.

Lyssa gasped, for a bolt struck her weapon, with enough force to make her let go of it. It fell to the ground, and the flames on the blade died out. Her eyes widened with anger, because a figure dashed from the vampiric frontlines, to halt sharply by the warlord.

She felt pure rage, for a vampire dared stand in between them, crossbow in hand. However, her fury soon turned into shock, because she was witnessing something that should not be. The fire in her hand flickered and died, as she took a startled step back. She saw long black hair, a familiar face, even if changed slightly. There were sharp silver eyes, which she could still recognize, even if they were inhuman.

That crossbow had been aimed at her, but it was promptly thrown away with a silent snarl. He let go of his weapon to stand unarmed, much like her. She stared at the scars on his face as he raised his arms to shield the tall lord behind him, who was as shocked as her.

“Bastian…?”

He did not answer; the only thing he did was keep panting and glaring at her, exhausted after his desperate run. Her ochre eyes were looking at him with fear and horror, and he noted it well.

No matter how much it hurt to see Lyssa realize what he was, Bastian did not stop shielding Nerys. He returned her petrified glance with a firm stare, both saying many things without a word, in just a second. His interference had been fast, and their silent exchange did not last for long. A yell soon echoed.

“The vampires have obstructed the duel!”

Lyssa gasped, for her troops saw Bastian intrude in their fight, breaking an unspoken rule.

“N-no, wait! He-!”

For the first time, Lyssa was ignored by her own troops. Bastian cursed when they grabbed and pulled her back, fearing that he could kill her. As well, Nerys growled and hissed, because her brethren took her away as well.

Bastian decided to retreat, but not before catching a glimpse of Sergius, who glared at him intensely between all the soldiers that lunged. Meanwhile, Nerys stared at Lyssa while she was dragged back to safety. She cried, because she saw how those ochre eyes hinted longing for him, but they had nothing but rancor for her.

Both forces took their leaders away. One was dragged into the fortress, while the other was forced back to camp. Their frontlines clashed again, thirsty for blood. The battle carried on, without them.