She paced back and forth in her tent, with a haunted gaze. The battle was over, yet she was now fighting to not break down. Her heart was beating fast, afraid. She could hear her troops outside, roaming in the camp, arranging their next assault. They counted on her guidance, and her fiery resolve… But she felt doubt. She could not stop thinking about those sharp silver eyes; they were different, yet still his.

Bastian.

She had treasured his memory, hoping to be able to call his name again, one day. Now, however, another notion tainted that hope. The mere thought was dreadfully painful, but she could not deny what he had become, a vampire.

Lyssa stopped pacing in her tent, its isolation somehow making her feel worse. She stared at nothing, asking herself far too many questions. He was alive, and at the same time not. His blood had been tainted, by the horrible affliction she swore to purge. Worst of all, he had gotten in her way, right when she was going to slay that horrible monster. He stopped her without hesitation, to save his sire.

She had always heard how fledglings defended their bringers to the death, forced by instinct. He had shown no fear, even if she could have killed him. There was loyalty towards that beast, but those sharp eyes also showed longing, for her and his past humanity.

He had been alive all this time, but she had been too late. She did not know what kind of torment he had endured, but it surely was dreadful. He never had been one to surrender his will, so it was clear that they had broken him, forced him to change.

What am I supposed to do now?

She did not stop pondering his fate, not even when her tent opened. Her mentor entered calmly, but his eyes hinted the same worry she felt.

“Lyssa…” She looked at him, but she did not seem to be able to see him. “I’m sorry.”

Sergius said those words like if Bastian was dead. He was expressing regret for his loss, even if she had found him. Lyssa opened her mouth to retort, angered by his tone. In the end, however, she stopped herself. Vampirism was a death sentence, without trials or appeals.

“I can’t-“ She closed her eyes strongly, incapable of stopping herself from sobbing. “Why?”

He stepped closer, and then placed a hand on her shoulder. There was nothing he hated more than seeing her suffer, so he tried to comfort her.

She was expected to burn that den, wipe out all the vampires that lurked in it. Yet she felt…

“I swore to it.” She opened her eyes and looked at him numbly, shaking her head with a pained smile. “B-but I never thought I would have to kill- No, I couldn’t have imagined him becoming… that.”

He sighed, for he understood her grief. However, he needed her to stay determined. And so, he tried to reason, stepping closer to the maps and plans on the table.

“Some of us are afflicted with the disease in battle, yet we never hesitate, for death is better than such fate. He is gone, Lyssa. You must accept it.” She glanced at him grimly, because he was zealous of his principles, even if he mourned too. “You must not falter, nor spare any vampire, not even him. He was surely sired against his will, and so, we should free his soul from such a horrid existence. Our last attack left them weak; we will strike again tomorrow and end them all.”

He expected her to display her fiery resolve once more, but she couldn’t. When she spoke, she did so with a faint broken laugh, which made him look up with a scowl.

“H-he is still there.”

She hated how he stared at her with pity.

“He is not. He is-”

“A vampire, yes.” She opened her tent and looked at the distant fortress, which they would soon breach. “I’ve seen his eyes. He… Bastian is not at fault, he did not wish for this to happen. I could not possibly slay him like any other beast. There is humanity, there, in his gaze. I don’t want him to perish when our troops swarm that den, for they would burn or pierce him, mercilessly.”

“You can’t spare a vampire. There’s no way-“

“Unlike you, I could, even if just once! You and other rebels never show mercy, and I have let myself share that blind spite! When one of us is turned against their will, we judge and scorn them! We either execute them or let them go mad in a cell, never to live for long!” She glared at him, remorseful of her coldness. “You, me, all of us… We condemn our fallen allies for something that they did not choose. Maybe we are right to do so, but it is still cruel.”

“There’s no cure, Lyssa. You can’t save him. Besides, he’s at the mercy of his lord, and you know how clans treat traitors. If he showed any sympathy for us, he would be killed by his own kin. He is dead, in one way or another. There is no way for him to stop serving his sire; he is in that den, not with us.” There was a sudden glint in those ochre eyes, but he did not notice it. He kept on speaking, sure of his words. “We must attack, soon. They will fall if-”

She interrupted him, with a monotone tone.

“We will lose too many men if we keep assaulting them head-on, trying to put that ram to use.” She glared over her shoulder, demanding. “All our effort shall be set on finishing that damn catapult. It will allow us a direct victory.”

He looked away from the maps, confused.

“It will take us time. Their lord is wounded, we can’t waste-“

“Who is the general, you or me?”

He snarled, but then bowed his head and resigned. She was not his apprentice anymore.

“You, Lyssa.”

“That’s right. Don’t forget it.”

She got out of the tent, with strong steps. He just shook his head, tiredly. She was harsh towards him sometimes, but he had been the one to instil that rage in her. He had been a fierce fighter in his young days, but she had surpassed him in that sense. Due to his respect for her efforts, he would obey her.

———

 

The night was always dangerous for humans. Tonight was an exception. The camp was calm, for the fortress was under siege, and no vampire could roam out of it without sounding the alarm.

Those creatures could not lurk, but that did not mean a shadow did not prowl. She covered her face with her veil, and then tied her sword to her belt. All ever slowly, she got out of her tent, silently. Most of her troops were sleeping, and the ones that were awake did not see her sneak past them. She was not supposed to leave, but she had to.

She had an objective, but she halted by one tent first. Her hands opened it slowly, to peek inside carefully. She smiled, because her mentor was asleep. He was slumped onto his table, snoring. The bowl of soup she had brought him in the evening was empty, eaten. She regretted adding something to it, but she needed him to rest and stop keeping watch over her for once.

She moved away and glared at her surroundings. The camp was big; her army was worthy of admiration. There were many soldiers, who were alert and ready for battle. Yet none saw her creep past every single tent and banner. She left their settlement easily, headed for the woods that stood past the fields.

A horse would have drawn attention to her, so she did not take one. She soon reached the forest and began to cross it, to reach something that only she knew about. It was hidden by a hill, but she had spotted it not long ago, while she scouted.

There had been rumours, which said that a group of rebels had found a tunnel that led to the fortress during a failed incursion. Her troops saw no trace of it… but she did. She did not wish to give it use at the moment, for it was small, and only a couple of men could go through it at a time. Their siege was effective already, and no one knew what stood at the end of the passage.

It’s dangerous, but…

Her ochre eyes stared intently at the rocks placed by the slope of the hill. To anyone, it would look natural, yet she knew better. The grass did not grow as much there, for it was usually stepped on. Someone had covered the path, and they had done a very good job at it. Sadly, her determination gave her a keen eye, and she did not let any opportunities pass her by.

She began to push rocks aside, sometimes using her own sword. Soon, she unravelled the small tunnel. She knew exactly where it led, and the risks that fact brought. Her eyes looked one last time at the fortress ahead, tall in the horizon.

One in, two out.

She ventured in, only able to think of one thing, fervently. Her mind was set on rescuing or apprehending him, whatever it took for him to leave that den.

He was a vampire, she knew. Her troops would not like this, and some could maybe try to slay him. However, as a general, she could assert that he was not to be killed. He could be spared, kept prisoner.

They would surely judge him back at Hollowgrave, but she would do everything possible to prevent them from executing him, keep him alive. Life in prison was better than dying. She knew that he had always feared death.

She needed to see him, even if he had changed. He did not deserve the same fate she wished for those monsters. She wanted to protect him, from himself and others, as much as she could. He was not a beast.

Her steps echoed through the tunnel as she advanced towards an unused dungeon. She had her sword with her, but she would try to avoid fighting, for that would get her unwanted attention. She knocked out a jailor without killing, for she knew that the smell of blood could alert the vampires that roamed in the castle.

Soon, she ventured into the courtyard, unseen. There were many human heartbeats in the castle, and all the sentries had their gazes fixed on her forces. She was just a shadow, which crept in hopes of finding an old friend.

——–

 

Voices echoed, loudly. Only two vampires lurked in the dark throne room, causing it to feel void yet oppressive. The oldest was looming over the youngest, threateningly.

“You had to step in between…” He did not flinch, not even if a sharp claw swung near him, in anger. “You really had to!”

Nerys screamed once more, enraged. Bastian did not raise his tone, but he did reply firmly and defiantly, never daring to look away from her.

“She was going to kill you.”

He had taken her anger, calmly, but her next words did make him lose his composure.

“It would have been alright! If I had died, it would not have mattered!”

“It does matter!” Her green eyes narrowed, because his silver ones pierced her, gleaming in the darkness of the room. “Goddammit, it does matter to me! And it would have mattered to her! Had she stabbed your heart, many would have cared, because they would have been killed!”

“I can’t save my people, but I can try to keep them from suffering! If she had slain me, they would have taken the castle with ease, bringing a swift end to this bloodshed! Think, Bastian! Without me, my human subjects would have surrendered, and my brethren would have been killed quickly! M-maybe you could have even been spared, taken prisoner.” She stepped away from him, crying hopelessly. “Now that I’ve avoided death, they won’t accept another duel. There is no chance for them to achieve a clean victory, for my people will keep fighting to shield me. Everyone could be hurt as they destroy the gates and walls. It will be a massacre, one that I will need to confront, thanks to your choice.”

“The rebels would have caused a bloodbath even if you had died in that duel; I know it for a fact. We both have seen that she has not assembled the most honourable of troops, for she just wants revenge, at any cost. I could not let you die in vain. You are stupid if you think your demise would have made them more lenient.”

Bastian scowled, because Nerys let herself fall onto her throne, with a claw over her eyes. She lamented, having no willpower left.

“It is time to give up, Bastian. She has seen you, and I’ve seen the ire in her eyes. Tomorrow or god knows when… she will lead an attack much more fierce than any other. It will be over.” She slowly lowered her claw, whispering softly. “It is over for me… but not for you. I will instruct two servants to bring you to safety before it is too late. You will go through that passage, and escape this-“

“I’m not leaving. I told you already, many times. You asked me to flee when the banners began to loom, and I have not changed my mind.”

“I am not asking now.” She stood fiercely, to then glare down at him. “This time, it is not a plea, but a command. You will leave, you want it or not. If you stay, you will die, so-“

“I won’t die.” He bared his fangs as he retorted, facing her firmly. “She won’t kill me. I’ve seen her eyes, and I know she can’t do it. If she knew you were alive, she would show the same reluctance. I swear, she is incapable of hurting you. Do you remember the skirmish in which you and I reunited? If I had managed to defeat you that day… had I seen you…”

He would not have been able to kill her; it was something he knew with all his heart. His words were honest, yet she still laughed bitterly, giving him a dubious look.

“Your men would have slaughtered me, no matter how much you had wished to spare me.”

“Well, her troops will do the same! That’s why you must face her before they have the chance to kill you! Expose yourself to her, without your armour or helmet! Stop pretending your old self is dead and let her see you are alive!”

She scoffed and waved her claw, having a more bleak perspective.

“Fine, let’s say I do show myself; let her discover the horrible truth! Her grief will double, not only wounded by your change but mine as well! I will twist her heart… but for what? Even if she wished to stop fighting and perhaps spare us both, there is no way for her to control her murderous troops, not even as a general! A lord like me can’t be allowed to live! If she still feels something for me, it will kill her to see me die! They will cut me to pieces and burn me, and I don’t want her to know who I am when that happens. None of us can do anything to stop this war. We are enemies, even if we don’t wish to be!”

While Nerys spoke, Bastian heard something, which she did not notice. She kept whispering to herself mournfully, while he looked away, tensing. He glared at the arcs and pillars that delimited the throne room, where many banners hanged in the dark.

He began to sniff the air suspiciously, because he sensed a pulse, human. His claws opened subtly, and he faced the shadows behind him, knowing that the intruder was no servant. They were supposed to be left alone.

There was nothing he hated more than spies, and he would have lunged to rip to pieces the one he sensed. Luckily, he was not blind, and he soon discerned the figure in the dark. He stopped himself from dashing.

Nerys finally looked up, because she heard Bastian let out a shaky breath, while he stared intensely at a far corner. Her green eyes pierced the shadows too, and her heart skipped multiple beats when she discerned a figure. They both would have growled, confronted the intruder that had been listening to their argument. The only thing they did, however, was stay still. One scowled sadly, while the other stared in horrified shock.

Lyssa finally stepped away from her hiding spot. Her feet moved slowly, towards the centre of the room, to let them see her clearly. She pulled at her bloody veil, and let it drop onto the floor. She was crying, yet her expression was firm and determined. There was no trace of the hate she had displayed, for it had left her heart completely. Her voice flowed with care, but also remorse.  

“Perhaps I can’t do much to stop this fight… But I want to try for you.”

There was silence for a minute. He was the one to greet her, with a sad whisper and smile.

“Hello, Lyssa.”

Bastian chuckled and shook his head dejectedly, for he saw how her ochre eyes were fixated on those green ones, showing that daring love he had always admired. Meanwhile, Nerys had frozen against her throne, distraught by her presence. It took her a moment, but she eventually trembled and cried. Lyssa said nothing when she moved her claws to cover her face, brushing her pale skin with her sharp nails. There was fear in her gaze, for she was aware of the fact that she was not wearing her armour or helmet. She was there, looking at her features, intently.

She is-

Before Nerys could run or faint, Lyssa stepped closer, slowly. Bastian did not stop her as she walked past him, without a word. She had intended to find him, but now her mind was in another trance.

Nerys gasped silently and shrunk more against her throne, because Lyssa raised a hand towards her. Her sharp eyes closed tight, for she could not move away without striking her. She expected those fingers to burn, yet she felt no flames. The only warmth came from her soft touch.

She opened one eye, slowly. More tears escaped her, because she felt her caress her face once more, like she used to do. She looked into her ochre eyes and noted that she was crying as well, with no trace of hate. Her heart pulsed painfully, for she saw her laugh and sob at once, with a broken smile.

“I really thought I would never hold you again, Nerys…”

She believed that she had been dead, all this time. Their loss had struck her heart deeply, but now she could heal, for they were alive. She found them both.

Nerys tried to whisper, deadly afraid of her approach. Part of her wished to call her guards and command for her to be taken away, incapable of understanding how she could not fear her claws and fangs.

“Lyssa, I-”

She could not finish, because she was pulled closer, into a tight embrace. Her sharp eyes blinked, but then narrowed sadly, because her love broke down and sobbed. She was clinging onto her like if she was going to fade away at any moment, so she slowly returned her hug, laying her shaky claws around her.

Nerys stared at nothing, lost. She could not comprehend why she had reached for her, not when it was clear what she was. Her sorrowful relief made no sense to her, and it hurt. Meanwhile, Lyssa clenched her teeth, angered, afraid and as lost as her.

There was only one notion that haunted and scared Lyssa, painfully so. Nerys was alive… and she had tried to kill her. Tonight, she had been determined to do so if he had been kept away from her reach.

Bastian watched silently, for it was clear that they would not let go of each other any time soon. Their loving focus was unbreakable, even if it was mournful. He knew well what they both felt, for he had gone through it.