Striking… Yes, that was the word that most defined him. His master was indeed beautiful, yet very hazardous.

He did not flinch when the corpse dropped to the ground, empty of blood. The human was now lifeless, much like the stones laid around them. That man had committed a terrible sin, one that was always punished severely. All should show reverence upon him, or pay for their defiance with their lives.

He averted his gaze when his master let down his claw, which had ripped that neck open. The slabs under his clawed feet were now painted in red, for he had refused to consume most of the blood. His fangs peeked as he smiled, while his two descendants dragged the corpse away.

With one single look, he gave him a command, and he obeyed silently. He followed his steps, diligently. It was not easy to mimic his grand strides, yet he did his best to show solemnity behind him. His keeper advanced imposingly, with his huge claws clasped together below his black and red robes.

They walked slowly through the stony edifices that they enforced others to build in a matter of weeks. He still wondered why, for they were simple galleries, monuments. His unemotional young eyes looked at the tall pillars and statues, without admiration. They were erected thanks to the pain and misery of his kind, painted constantly in red. Upon such sight, he could not avoid asking faintly, without being granted permission.

“Why raise such temples and mandate hefty tribute if we are to leave this land soon?”

His master turned slowly, to look at him calmly. There was conceit, yet it was almost doting. He revealed his huge claws from under his robes and leaned down to look into his young eyes, like if he was a generous and patient mentor. His lips parted, and his soft but strong voice flowed, in that prideful tone of his.

“Child, as a human, you should understand the meaning of these landmarks.”

He did not show any hints of defiance, looking up to him obediently. Ever since he could remember, he had followed him, observing every act he committed through the world. Those sharp red eyes glanced at the tall structures around them, with pride and fascination.

“Your life is fleeting, inconsequential. Almost everything that exists in this world suffers under the passage of time, even these mighty stones.” His fangs showed in his cold smile, which was caring, but in a venomous way. “Every second of your existence is a gift, something that should not be wasted but seized. All humans must give meaning to their lives, and leave a mark in this world… for us immortal beings to relish.”

He did not cower when one of those claws brushed his face; it leaned his head up and then sideways, gently. His master crouched at his side and motioned at the vast distance; indeed, he had left many grand testaments in his wake, but only thanks to the lives of the humans he crossed paths with. Once more, the offer was presented, with that mockery he knew well.

“You could perhaps serve this imperfect world more grandly, Sergius, if you only attained the strength and willpower of my kind. You could admire these sacrifices as I do, and outlast them.”

Again, he turned his head away with a deep frown. He knew what his bite could bring, because it was offered often, and none endured it. Still, there was a chance of survival, insignificant but possible… and that scared him the most.

His master chuckled and then stood away, hiding his claws under his ancient robes again. He taunted his hesitation, making sure to display his long sharp fangs in his whisper.

“Ah, I guess you are only human. You are too afraid to fight for eminence.” He began to march ahead again, with an affectionate yet malicious hum. “Just follow, and devote your simple life to a greater one.”

He wanted to lash out, tear his body and tainted heart apart for his contempt. However, he could not bring himself to do it. So he just followed, watching as every road they paved was tainted with blood.

———

Still striking and beautiful…

He observed from the shadows, feeling an emotion he had almost forgotten: fascination. It was something he only felt once after attaining freedom, when he found a little girl of ochre eyes hidden in a cellar.

She was determined to live, defying anything that stood in her way. Her passion was relentless, unable to be crushed by the cruel world that surrounded her. He guided her as she grew stronger, not only due to his aid.

He had lost his fascination for life; it was Lyssa’s heart and will that inspired him. Now, he felt a similar admiration, but much darker and vile. It was the same wonder he held at a young age, towards a being that was unwavering but cruel in its ways.

Nothing had changed, at all. His sharp red eyes were still bright, and his soft lips contrasted the deadly fangs that they hid. Although his skin looked stony, it could have very well been carved by angels, and no time would be able to erode it. His short hair was ebony, as dark as the night sky, which he frequently marched under.

Sergius bowed his head and stared at his hands, which he had kept hidden under the big robes he had been told to wear. There was no trace of the young boy he once had been; age had taken its toll. His vision was tainted too, less sharp. He was still strong, but he could no longer display the same might against those beasts. Simply put… he was old. He was falling apart, very slowly, eroded like the very memorials he willed into existence. No strength or will would save him from time itself.

He snarled silently and leaned more against the pillar behind him. His former master was walking freely under the light, while he had to hide in the shadows. Alaric was as imposing as he remembered, even after all these decades. He had his arms crossed against his bare chest while he marched slowly through the courtyard, his stance prideful and mighty.

He could not stop looking at him. There was too much resent and hate in his heart, much more prominent than his awe. That beast was leaving, and he did not wish to let him. And so, when Lyssa had let her guard down, he had crept closer.

Alaric was like the sword of a prestigious knight, fine-looking but very dangerous. There was a contented smile on his cold expression, because his carriage was waiting for him. His two bodyguards were ready to take him away, knowingly.

Nerys stood behind him, with a subtle trace of relief in her green eyes. She had to listen to his meaningless words for hours, but it seemed to be finally over. He had only spoken of how he would force other clans to aid her again, as long as she swore to thread more carefully from now on.

All which he said, she simply agreed to, with a silent nod. Deep inside, she disregarded all his claims, even if it was not easy to do so. At last, she could say farewell, for he stepped close to the carriage.

“Sire, I really… appreciate your visit. I’ll make sure to give meaning to the time you’ve spent in my domain.”

“I’m sure you will do better; you have always listened carefully to my warnings.” There was a glint in his eyes, and he did not step into the carriage yet. “And indeed, my visit does hold a purpose, to relay a very important matter.”

Nerys did not like the tone of those last words. So she smiled and opened the carriage for him, with an elegant bow.

“Worry not; I will follow your guidance carefully. No need to-“

She blinked, because he moved away her claw with his, gently. He stood tall and exclaimed, eyeing her down.

“Do not assume that I’m done here, my dear.” Nerys shivered, because he glared menacingly, even if very subtly. “I have not voiced the most crucial fact you should be aware of.”

She quickly took a step back and stood upright, not managing to hide her anxiousness completely.

“Aware?”

She had seen that look in his eyes before, and she did not like it. Still, she listened, for she had no choice. He chuckled softly and motioned with a claw, slowly.

“Do you really think I would come all the way here, just to see you? No, that winged friend of yours can tell me if you are alive or not. I can find out if you are faring well, without effort.” Those words hurt, but they were true. “If I have bothered to come, it was to proclaim an edict in person, for it shall be your duty to fulfil it. It is time you learn, as I said.”

While Alaric expressed his superiority and Nerys tensed, Sergius leaned more in the shadows to listen to their words. He had not only sneaked towards them due to fascination, but worry as well. Even here, he was still a rebel. He could not avoid nearing to hear the words of the most powerful vampire of the land.

Many in Hollowgrave would kill for the chance of hearing his decrees. The king of this disgusting and massive plague was relaying orders, and he was near to hear them. He was so focused on those prideful words that he did not hear what was creeping towards him.

“You idiot!”

“Ah…!” He couldn’t avoid jolting and gasping when he was pushed against the pillar at his side, by a very angry blonde. “Lyssa?!”

He was still suspicious of all the vampires that roamed around him, so he was rightfully startled by her sudden move. She was unfazed by his irate glare, because she was more offended. He should have not gotten out to the courtyard, so she began to pull at him while she scolded him.

“What the hell are you doing here?! You should be in the kitchens! I look away to argue with him for a minute and you are gone! Have you gone mad?!”

Sergius swatted at Lyssa, clearly displeased with her constant vigilance, even if he had given her the same treatment before. A snarl escaped him when he saw that Bastian was running towards them too, less quick than her.

“Let go, you can’t boss me around!”

“I can! Have you forgotten that I hold a higher rank than you?!”

“Not anymore! You deserted, remember?!”

Bastian halted sharply, panting, finally reaching them. His silver eyes glanced over the courtyard and he cringed. He saw exactly what they had been avoiding and he did not like it.

While they ran to find Sergius, Lyssa had exclaimed that he could only have gone towards the very thing he had to elude, and she was right. Bastian whispered with a stutter and began to pull at him as well, afraid of being seen.

“C-come on, now it’s not the time for arguments. Let’s go back inside, before-“

“No.” Sergius yanked his arms free from their hold, to lean and peek at the two lords again. “Keep still and quiet, you idiots. That beast is going to leave soon, but not before whispering orders that I better hear! God knows that Nerys would not share war plans with an insurgent!”

Both Bastian and Lyssa retorted at the same time.

“You are not a rebel anymore! And Nerys would tell me everything if I asked her to!”

“This obsession of yours is not healthy! Drop it already! Nerys is not plotting about-“

All shut up when some words echoed to them.

“It is time we purge that old and bothersome hideout.”

Bastian, Lyssa and Sergius froze in the shadows, startled by that whisper. They looked at Alaric in shock, much like Nerys did for a second. After a couple of seconds, she managed to overcome her first trail of thought. She smiled and spoke slowly, trying to deny what he had implied.

“Hideout?” She chuckled anxiously, tugging at one of her strands of hair. “Sire, there are no rebels hiding in this land, nor in the neighbouring ones. We banished them all.”

The older vampire huffed and then gave her an intense stare.

“I know that, child. There was no prey to find on my way here…” He waved a claw, sighing. “No, I’m not speaking of guileless camps in the woods or crannies in which loners lurk. There are lands that should be ours already. They should have been claimed a very long time ago, but the lords of these domains are quite useless. I’m referring to the haven of the insurgence, a place you all keep disregarding, either in ignorance or fear.”

Fear gripped Nerys, and the words escaped her.

“You mean… H-hollow-”

She wasn’t able to finish, so he did.

“Hollowgrave is the name humans have given to that ancient fortress, indeed. They should have never had the chance to do so; it belonged to our kind millennia ago.” Her fear instantly became dread and horror, something that he disregarded arrogantly, unbothered by her haunted expression. “The clans of these regions must set forth to siege it, for humans should not roam freely, out of control. It is time for these domains to showcase their full potential, not obstructed by those lesser beings, but aided by them. You, my child, have the strength to put an end to their vain defiance. My blood flows in you, and it shall allow you to lead. You will become an empress and dictate the law for all to follow, under my blessing. No fire will halt you, and all insurgents will be chained to your will.”

Nerys finally dared speak, but she had lost all confidence in herself. Terror had settled deep in her mind, which was screaming, far too many things.

“Sire, with all due respect…” She managed to smile slightly, even if shakily, hoping to be able to bargain her way out. “My clan does not have the means to achieve such siege. We are many, but not enough. A huge army would be needed for an attack of this magnitude. Hollowgrave is an immense underground stronghold; far too many humans hide inside it! Humanity has held it for many centuries, and it surely has changed since you set eyes on it! We wouldn’t be able to-“

“Once more, just listen.” He glared pridefully and she shut up, for her will was strangled unnaturally. “I know well that place; it can’t have changed enough to suppose a dangerous factor. As long as vampires do not control it, it shall always be a humid, dark and cold den. Those weaklings imprison themselves, holding onto a false sense of liberty in its confining tunnels. I am of ancient blood, fledgling, don’t you forget it. I was there when that citadel rose, and I saw how the lords of that time ignored the first hints of humanity’s audacity, which could have been easily crushed. They let them be, thinking they could keep them unchained… and that led them to be slaughtered by their own cattle, in the very underground courts they ruled. Now humans believe they can fight against us, for they keep killing our kin. Now, I know there is strength in numbers; those filthy animals could slay you and your clan, my own blood…”

Sergius, Lyssa and Bastian felt nothing but dread for the next words Alaric voiced, because there was bloodlust in his red eyes, which were fixated on Nerys and her unnerved gaze.

“It is time for me to lead these domains towards glory. With you as my worthy heir, I can command all these pitiful clans onto that den. We shall truly hollow out that grave, and cure humanity of its vain delusions. At last, there shall be order. I expect you to stand upon its gates, in a month.”

Nerys was frozen; she had been incapable of speaking up. She was recalling her past, her time as a human. Her mind was assembling her most important memories, all related to her loved ones or her struggles and hopes. The only thing she could see was red.

Alaric turned around, away from Nerys. He grasped the door of the carriage to get inside and leave, because he had said all that he needed. There was contentment in his expression, until he heard a faint whisper, of defiance.

“S-sire, I don’t think-“

Nerys trembled, because Alaric did not move, but his bloody eyes did. He glared back with a smile, with a very subtle lean of head. He did not need to yell to inflict terror on all around him.

“Are you trying to question your sire, Nerys?”

Lyssa had stopped pulling at Sergius, while Bastian had taken a step back and covered his mouth with a hand. The three watched while Nerys tried to find words, snarling silently.

Nerys took a deep breath, with a grimace. Lyssa mouthed what she wished for her to say, pleading for her refusal. She kept shaking her head, begging her to speak up against that beast. Bastian already knew what would happen, he felt it himself. The words escaped her, not ones she agreed with, but which she was forced to say.

“No, my lord.”

That was exactly what Alaric expected to hear, and it pleased him greatly to see Nerys show subservience.

“Good.”

The disease pulsed strongly in their veins. She could do nothing but obey her bringer, the one who brought her so close to death and back.

Nerys stood firm under the sun, with a dark gaze. Her eyes had sharpened, yet they were lost, as much as those ochre eyes. Lyssa was staring at her in shock, unable to recognize what she was seeing. She was incapable of reacting, so she was not able to stop Sergius from doing so. He snarled and reached for his whip, fast. Bastian gasped in alarm and tried to stop him, but by the time he reached forward with a claw, he only grasped air.

The two lords heard the loud angered warcry, and so, they looked back at the shadows of the nearby arcs. Many jade eyes widened in alarm when a human leapt at their guest, sharp whip in hand.

Alaric was surprised to see a hooded man lunge at him so furiously, but he was not startled. Even if he kept standing with his arms crossed, he was ready to lash out, in just a second. He would rip the human in half once that whip moved close enough.

He was not the one to stop his attacker. The whip twirled, but it was halted in the air before it could strike. The man gasped, because a huge claw closed tightly around his weapon. There was no time for him to react to the fist that struck him, fiercely.

Nerys huffed with a grimace, bringing down the mage that tried to wound her sire, who she was meant to shield. Sergius sat onto one knee and dropped his weapon, in order to hold his abdomen with a cough.

She punched him, and she wasn’t proud of it, even if she had not pierced him with her nails. He had to be stopped, or all would regret his strike. She had to shield her bringer, no question. Still, she felt immense pain and sorrow when a blonde ran towards them, with a shaken and distressed expression.

Alaric raised an eyebrow when that woman sent Nerys a reproving glare, which hinted incredulity. Due to it, he leaned towards his heir to whisper conceitedly, like if he had not just been attacked.

“I told you, they are allowed too much freedom.”

Nerys had to look away from those ochre eyes, which were accusing without words. She spoke up to try to excuse the two, with an apologetic and anxious tone.

“Sire, forgive my carelessness. I beg you to ignore this!” Even if it did not seem so, she did care for the fate that could befall him. “I’ll make sure that he pays for his insolence, I promise. Strict measures will be enforced.”

Alaric’s eyes narrowed; he looked at Lyssa, who glared back. Their eyes met, clashing without word. She showed clear defiance, something he loathed, and that made him command.

“No, Nerys. I can see the animosity in these animals.” He took a step closer, with intent. “I should-“

Lyssa had been ready to stand and shield Sergius, but she blinked instead, because the tall vampire halted sharply. Alaric had frozen; his eyes hinted bafflement, and his expression was one of surprise.

“This scent…”

Sergius growled and held onto his new bruise more tightly. It did not help him any. Nerys gasped in pure worry when Alaric approached him starkly. She saw Lyssa lunge in anger, and then be pushed back by a claw as if nothing.

Alaric ignored how Nerys caught Lyssa as she tumbled, before she could hit the ground. His red eyes were fixed on the man, who took his interest, and not due to the attack. He moved a claw down, slowly, to push that hood back. There was no surprise in his gaze when he met those old prideful eyes.

“I could recognize this scent anywhere.” He leaned his head at him, with a sick grin. “Time hasn’t treated you well… Has it, my dear Sergius?”

He growled, for he had given him that name, full of scornful meaning. A smile grew on his lips, but it was much less gleeful and vile.

“I see you are still as revolting as I remember. You will never change, no matter how many years pass you by.”

Alaric clicked his viperish tongue, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You have been on the run for so long, and this is how you greet your master…”

“I didn’t plan to have to acknowledge your words.” Sergius glared at Nerys, furious. “My whip should have ripped you first, disgusting beast.”

Alaric looked at Nerys too, honestly surprised by what he was witnessing. It was not something many managed to make him feel. He moved away from Sergius, and he would have been punched while doing so if his two henchmen did not hold him back when he tried to dash.

“Nerys, where have you found this old varlet? He was of my property once.” He grinned down at him, with a shake of head that almost made Lyssa lunge at him again. “You do not cease to amaze me, youngling.”

Nerys had to hold Lyssa down, indeed. Her anger and shock only grew when she answered that fiend, with reverence and respect.

“I found him after a siege that my castle endured. He was not easy to deal with.” Nerys tried to reason, noticing well his interest. “Please, let it be. I’ll deal with this human myself.”

Sergius growled, impossibly tired of them all.

“This human can speak for himself!” His tone rose as he struggled against the two vampires that held him. “If you think I will let you plot our demise, you are vastly mistaken, you treacherous monster!”

Nerys was hurt by those words, because she could not deny she was obeying Alaric’s will. She shivered when Lyssa looked up at her, to whisper faintly, with that trust she knew well.

“Nerys, face him…”

It was a plea, and Nerys did not answer it. Lyssa trembled when she ignored her, to look at Alaric instead, who spoke with a tone that one would use in a trade.

“I do not want this human to die.” Alaric looked down at Sergius, chuckling darkly. “Nerys, would you consider selling your new slave to me? I do not wish to simply steal your trophy away. He is like a wild stallion… I remember clearly how he feigned loyalty, to then backstab me. It seems he still perfidious, seeing how he waited in the shadows to lunge at me.”

Bastian had walked slowly towards them, dreadfully. He felt relief when Nerys managed to fight against her subservient instincts, something that was not easy to achieve.

“I shall keep him. You lost him, so I can rightfully claim ownership. And if you don’t want him dead…”

Alaric glared subtly. There was disappointment in his gaze, but in his mind, everything was a game.

“A shame…” He smiled again, to then whisper down at his old retainer. “Ah, I guess at least I found you again. Look at you, chained to the will of a vampire, once more. You ran away for nothing, morsel.”

Sergius roared, pulling at the two vampires that held him.

“I shall not be chained! Not to you, nor her. One day, I’ll run a stake right through your che-“

He shut up again, because he received another punch, from one of his two henchmen. While he bowed in pain, Nerys commanded her nearby brethren to move, pointing a claw coldly and fiercely.

“Take him to the dungeons.”

Lyssa protested, incapable of believing that she just said those words.

“Nerys! How can you-?!”

“Take her away as well, where I can’t hear her.”

Lyssa stood mouth agape, seeing Nerys turn away when she tried to pull at her. Two guards approached and grasped her arms, gently but firmly, ready to unsheathe their swords if needed. Only Bastian dared object.

“You can’t just-!”

Bastian flinched when Nerys glared at him, with the very same feral demeanor he witnessed in a cell. He blinked at the sharp nail that she pointed at his chest, as hurt as Lyssa.

“I can, and you better not dare contradict me! They shall be silenced and locked in the dungeon until I can deal with them both! For now, I will attend our lord, so do as you must and lead them away!”

Bastian knew there was a double meaning in those words. There was care under her rage and fury. Still, he could not accept such hostility, not after all that they had expressed in the past. Sadly, he could only nod slowly and step back, with a resigned scowl.

Nerys sighed painfully, seeing Bastian walk away, to stand by Lyssa’s side. She glared back too, while two guards guided her towards the same door Sergius was dragged through. They both entered the dungeons, resentfully.

Lyssa would be alright. Everything was a ruse… at least for her. Perhaps Sergius would be beaten if he tried to keep struggling.

It is for their own good…

She looked away, unable to see them anymore. Her sire seemed pleased by her firmness, yet unfazed by her sorrow. Human emotions were something that amused him. He spoke, like if he was just observing a play in a theatre.

“That girl… You seem to care for her.” He warned her, very carefully. “I hope you plan to sire her. I sense her defiance, and she is determined. It is something you must deal with.”

She lied, without really doing so.

“I will take care of her.”

Alaric sighed and leaned against his carriage, motioning a claw dismissively.

“I’ll leave that fool under your care as well. For what little time he has left anyway…” His eyes glinted, seeing his two henchmen walk out of the dungeon, with blood on their knuckles. “Be sure to tame him for me, lest he runs off once more.”

She nodded darkly and said empty words as he stepped into his carriage. He said his farewells, and she did not bother answering him.

“See you soon, Nerys.”

She dreaded that moment and the wait before it. The carriage left, but it did not bring her any relief. He had inflicted too many horrible feelings… not only on her.