The sky could have not been any bleaker. There was no trace of the sun above, for it was concealed by ominous grey clouds. A scarred gaze peeked from below a hood, wary of the possible rain that could befall them. Still, even if a storm could be nearing, their steps did not falter. They kept walking slowly ahead, never diverting their march to seek refuge in the farms and lone cottages that stood in the landscape.

The hooded man advanced much more nervously than the other two figures, yet they did not slow down to acknowledge that fact. Even if it could not be seen, his dread was overwhelming and pervasive. There was a rope, tight and strong. It tangled around his wrists, dangling down to his feet, which were tied less closely. Such restraints did not halt him, but they would prevent him from running.

It was humiliating, but he did not have much choice in the matter. His eyes looked up again from the ground, narrowing as he contemplated the distance. With every step they took, the sight was clearer. There it was, not so far now. A huge bastion stood past a vast river. Its core sunk inwards into the earth, while its frontal arcs were crowned by a big wooden bridge, which was lowered right now to let travellers go through.

This might have been a terrible decision on his part. Perhaps he would regret his approach, in a horrible manner. Sadly, there was no point in debating it now. He was bound, so even if he wished to run off, he would not be able to. He had passed the point of no return, the three knew it.

An old mage noticed how the steps of their hostage became more slow and doubtful, so he moved closer and did not doubt to nudge him forward, not harmful but rough. The one that led their march looked back, her ochre eyes much gentler.

Her lips mouthed something softly, which he understood clearly, even if his gaze was shadowed by his hood. She tried to reassure him, but it did not help him feel sure of his fate. Still, he refused to run, even if he knew what was coming.

Near the huge underground citadel there were always a few guards, which patrolled to secure the most precious haven of humanity. No one could approach it without being seen, nor enter unnoticed. It was not like they wished to hide. They walked on a road that led directly to the bridge, and so, they were seen indeed by the soldiers that kept watch on a nearby field.

As always, a hooded person was something to suspect, for all feared the dark and silence. The fear of a predator sneaking through their lands for blood was always present. The three had to stop completely when the men surrounded them from all flanks. At any other moment, they would simply ask for that hood to be pushed back, but something was different now.

The soldiers noticed quickly that two of the figures were officials, who had been gone for far too long. The man between them had his gloved hands and feet tied, like a prisoner. And so, the commander of the patrol stepped closer, to ask in disbelief and slight suspicion.

“General Lyssa?”

She sighed and chuckled a little, but not gleefully.

“So, I still hold the title after all, hmm?”

The men were confused, and with reason. Lyssa kept quiet as she was interrogated, not missing how they had their hands on the handles of their weapons.

“We were told of your flight. Where have you been, and why? Who is that man you escort?”

It was Sergius who answered, firmly. He pulled harshly at the rope tied around the wrists of their captive, and no one missed the slight exasperated snarl that followed.

“Our departure was not meant to be permanent, as she may have intended to imply. We are not deserters; we have returned with useful information, which we have acquired in our time away.”

Lyssa looked again at the other two and frowned, with a trace of worry in her eyes. However, it was soon gone, for she invoked her inner pride and confidence.

“We are not alone…” She gave a sharp nod to her mentor, who grasped that hood roughly. “We have a vampire.”

All cursed or snarled, because Sergius pulled at the hood, revealing those sharp silver eyes. Bastian huffed and shook his head, not doubting to give the older man an exasperated glare. He tried to not flinch or run away when the soldiers took out their weapons, promptly. The word was expected, and he almost snorted angrily when it was let out in alarm.

“Vampire…!”

Bastian looked all around himself, nervous yet calm. The spears and swords were pointed at him, but he stayed put. He did not do so because Sergius held onto his restraints, but for the fact that Lyssa had his back. Or front, in this case. She stood there in between, firmly.

“There’s no need for you to stab him.” The men did not show any less hate, but they did stop hinting that they wished to murder him on sight. “He’s tied up. I need to bring him into Hollowgrave for the council to see, unharmed. Let us through.”

The commander whispered to a few of his soldiers, extremely distrustful, as usual. Any vampire was usually put down, in a matter of minutes. Yet if a prestigious general vouched for the delay of death…

“A vampire, led to the council?” Lyssa wanted to roll her eyes due to the next words. “What could this beast offer for us to let it enter our sanctuary?”

“Oh please…” She crossed her arms at them, annoyed. “We keep a few vampires in the deepest dungeons, one more won’t make a difference!”

“In the dungeons, indeed! Not near our leaders! He should go straight into trial, to be questioned by the priests before being burned on a pyre! The council only deals with humans!”

Everyone ignored the glares Bastian was giving them all. Lyssa took a step forward, and the men flinched when she raised her tone.

“Now, commander, how many battles have you experienced?”

“B-battles?” Few could keep a firm stance under her inquisitive gaze, which almost seemed to be aflame. “I… I mean, my jurisdiction is to patrol near Hollowgrave. My men and I haven’t been in any skirmishes or-“

“No fights in the wild. So, any vampire you have seen has been staked or burned at the main plaza, correct? Have you ever confronted any?”

“A-a few, loners and-”

“Loners! I know how loners are: weak, desperate and… Oh my, solitary! They do not follow the guidance of a lord.” Lyssa raised a hand to point at Bastian. “This is no loner, commander. This vampire here is part of a clan that could induce nightmares on the most mighty officials. He was very close to a warlord, and so, an important asset to us. Tell me, do you think we should simply burn him, or question him? Surely, even if I have killed lords, you know better what to do with him.”

The soldiers were looking nervously at the three. It was strange that they feared her more than the vampire, who simply glared at them all tiredly, as if he was only bothered by their stares. The commander of the patrol surrendered, at last, slightly doubtful.

“One wrong move, and we won’t doubt to kill your prisoner. Is that clear, general?”

Sergius scoffed, making Bastian growl in discomfort when he yanked a little on the rope.

“If he were capable of making one single wrong move, I would have already killed him.”

Bastian bared his fangs in an angry scowl. He dared say some words, not appreciating at all how he was being held, a little painfully and disrespectfully.

“What did we say regarding pushing or-?!”

There was a loud slap. Bastian growled and shook his head, while Sergius kept up the hand with which he had struck him. The mage scolded the vampire, with no emotion in his gaze, stern. He even jabbed him a little, to make a point.

“Do not speak if not told to do so, and certainly do not dare make a move I do not command. Otherwise, I will be forced to blind you completely to prove you are powerless.”

Much to Bastian’s anger, Lyssa did not scold the way in which Sergius was treating him. He just huffed, deciding that it was best to stay quiet. This was bound to happen, he had known. He would be abhorred on sight, by everyone.

Since the very moment he agreed to come here, he had been aware that he would need to act submissively, or else. The mage would give his all to their façade, almost as if he meant it. It was all a ruse, of course, but that did not mean he was fine with it.

Truly, he hated this, but his heart was set. He kept displaying obedience, knowing that they needed to seem rough with him, or he would not live inside those walls for more than five minutes. He was surprised that he was alive right now, to be honest. Before arriving, he had doubted that he would have many chances of survival, but she had proven him wrong again.

At least for now…

While she gave him a very subtle smile, the guards made a choice.

“It is not his claws that worries us.” Only Bastian blinked when a soldier took out something from a satchel. “It’s those fangs.”

It was not uncommon for vampires to be spiteful and malicious, many times biting to inflict the venom of the disease. His kind sometimes liked to inflict despair, death in one single bite, non-lethal in truth.

His sharp silver eyes widened, because he saw something that he hated, something like what she had made him wear once. It was more oppressive than some simple braces, much more meanspirited. He had seen it being used on vampires when he was an insurgent.

“You got to be kidding me…”

He stared at the metallic mask, which was designed to latch onto a jaw. It would be fixed tightly, almost painfully, to prevent bites and loud hisses.

A guard handed the muzzle to Sergius, because they were too wary to put it on him. Meanwhile, Bastian gave Lyssa a look that said: “I did not sign up for this”. It was something she disregarded with a glance that told him: “I’m keeping you alive, so deal with it”.

Bastian did let out a couple of discomforted growls, because Sergius did not doubt to latch it around his jaws. He tried to move his mouth, but now he could barely do so, for the metal pressured his face.

Sergius did not muzzle Bastian maliciously, but he did not seem to care that much for his grievance either. With his fangs taken care of, the commander pointed ahead at Hollowgrave, with a wave of spear.

“Follow us and keep that hood up. We don’t want to instil fear into the crowds.”

All should be worried and afraid, but that, only the three knew. Bastian glared again when Sergius pulled his hood up. He did not snarl when he was nudged forward into a march, because he was made to do so more gently than before.

Even Sergius understood what Bastian was going through. With every step, he tensed more, for he was advancing towards thousands of humans that would do horrible things to him if they could. He was scared, there was no way to deny it. Still, he was determined. His gaze hinted no trace of doubt while he stared ahead defiantly, even if he kept his head low. His steps did not falter, because he trusted Lyssa, even Sergius.

He had to come back, no question. Without him, everything could go to hell. All could suffer a worse fate if he did not help.

The rope that dangled between his feet almost made him trip a couple of times. It was not easy to step onto the bridge they reached, in less time than he had imagined and wished. Luckily, the two grabbed him by his arms. Their roughness was feigned, and they helped him mind his step as they dragged him. Their hate was only a ploy, to ensure his survival. The more aggressive they seemed, and the more defeated he looked, the more others would forget their bloodthirsty hate.

He had missed this place, but this comeback felt wrong. Even if he was surrounded by guards and he wore a hood, he could still see. The dark corridors that greeted him past the deep entrance felt familiar. There were many torches that lighted the way, into a labyrinth full of hideouts that he had called home. These mighty stones kept them all safe, from creatures like him.

They finally reached the areas he once roamed as a child. There was no one like him in the crowds. The populace wandered, blissfully unaware of the soldiers that escorted him. Many humans gathered in the huge underground plaza, browsing through the main market. They lived without worry, unable to be reached by any predator.

Bastian contemplated the ancient ground he walked on, because he had a hard time looking at the ones he once called his own, able to sense their heartbeats. Lyssa did not manage to maintain a cold and firm expression for long, because a few onlookers noticed that there was a prisoner between them. Even Sergius noticed the hate of those civilians, for they surely imagined what would be of him, given that he was being led to deeper areas.

The army resided past those deep tunnels. And in the most isolated of chambers, the council awaited. They were far from the rest, away from the quarters were all slept and lived. The corridors became narrower, more ominous. Barely anyone roamed, and the ones who did never wasted time in them. All always marched with purpose, headed somewhere to fulfil their duty.

Bastian began to sweat for real now, even gulping. He could not avoid doing so, because he received quite a few glares from other officials, who he crossed paths with while he was led ahead. He was brought upon two huge doors, which he had approached once, to beg to be allowed to fight. It had led him to his change, and this moment. He was entranced by his memories, so he trembled when he heard a whisper.

“I won’t let them kill you.”

He looked at her softly, for she had leaned close to say those words. It took him a second, but he spoke back, once he made sure no one would hear. The muzzle helped muffle his voice, and it was a good thing that she had good hearing.

“I know.” He took a deep breath, to then glare ahead without doubt. “It does not matter if they do, in any case. We need to make a point; I must do this. Nerys can’t.”

Lyssa had objected to this before. It was Bastian who chose this, carefully pondering their options. Still, he hoped that she could get him out of trouble afterwards, without a stake stabbed through his heart.

Her reassuring words were all that he needed. He closed his eyes for a moment and stood upright. When he opened them again, his expression did not hint nervousness, but urgency. He did not avert his gaze when the doors opened slowly.

Bastian advanced into the chamber like he did after he lost Nerys. This time it was not to seek death, but to avoid that many found it. The light that came from the corridor shined into the huge circular room, revealing their presence to the figures that sat ahead. The three could barely see the delegates above, who sat by their stony podiums. Only one of them leaned to reveal himself to them, with confusion and disbelief.

“Lyssa?”

A man had been speaking with the council about waning resources, but he stepped away when he saw the three behind him. He was quick to notice what gleamed faintly under that hood.

Rein stared, voiceless. The guards pushed Bastian forward, and Lyssa could not do anything to prevent that. He was forced onto his knees in the middle of the chamber, and they pushed his hood off right after. He gave the delegates an annoyed tired look when they gasped. If the muzzle were not there, perhaps they would have seen his smug exasperated smirk.

“Bastian?”

Rein stared at those sharp eyes, which did not doubt to meet his. Both were feral and bright in the dark, even if one was scarred. His confusion did not fade at all when Lyssa stepped close to the vampire again. She greeted, like if she had never left.

“Hello, Rein.”

“How…” Rein affirmed, ignoring the alarmed whispers of the rest of the council. “You deserted.”

Lyssa had been a dedicated official, and one out of the ordinary. She dared dismiss their shock, speaking bluntly when no one else would.

“I may have, in a sense. Not completely, however. There is something I need to-“ She corrected herself, because Bastian scowled at her, telling her something wordlessly. “Well, we need to tell you something. It is urgent, so I beg you to listen, even if he is… a vampire.”

The guards wished to object when she pointed at his muzzle next.

“I’m going to take off this thing. Please, hear him out.”

Lyssa would have been stopped, but Sergius glared at the soldiers and clenched a smoking hand, making them step off. As well, Rein did not object when she grasped gently the muzzle, proceeding to unlatch it.

Bastian let out a long sigh of relief once his jaws were free, cracking his neck with a groan for good measure. Everyone saw his fangs, and only a few did not dread them. He looked up again when Rein’s voice echoed, with non-hateful concern.

“How did this happen to you, Bastian?”

There was pity, yet he did not want it. His silver eyes narrowed with a lean of head, hinting defiance even if he was kneeling. He chose his words very carefully, letting them out slowly.

“It’s a long story… I do not look forward to having to relay it, really. And besides, I believe that you should hear something else first; we don’t have much time.”

“Time?” Rein moved a hand sideways, and that finally silenced the outcries of the other delegates, who had wasted no time in demanding his death. “Explain yourself.”

Rein had led Hollowgrave for enough time to know that those words could only mean something dreadful. Bastian bowed his head, and after a deep breath, he asked back.

“Will you truly listen to a vampire? You could burn me, deeming my words to be a lie.”

Rein replied more gently than any other insurgent would.

“Considering that she is by your side…” Rein had always trusted in Lyssa and Sergius. In Bastian too. “You were human once. I shall at least hear you, for you hint a trace of your past humanity. If you speak truthfully and in our favour, I will offer you a merciful sentence, a quick end.”

Lyssa argued promptly against those words, nearing the centre of the chamber strongly and proudly.

“You better not, Rein.” Lyssa pointed at Bastian, insistently. “Believe me, you need him alive. If you execute him, I will not aid you, and that will only bring you a terrible fate.”

Rein warned carefully, without malice, saying simple truth.

“I must remind you that neglect is treason. You could be sent to trial yourself, Lyssa. I haven’t forgotten your strange vanishment, and I still need to understand why you have returned, with him like this.”

“You won’t be able to arrange a trial, trust me. There is a damn good reason for our return! We came back to aid you, so just-!”

“Lyssa, we won’t get anywhere by yelling and arguing.”

She looked down at him, worriedly. Before they said anything to help them, she wished to be assured that he would be spared.

“But-”

If his claws were not tied, he would have dismissed her with a wave of hand.

“Leave it be. The more you demand, the less they will trust in me. They will do anything they want anyway, so there is no point in bargaining.” He did not look at her again, fixating his gaze on Rein instead, intently. “Let me lay down the facts, one by one. First, kill me if you must, but know that she is right; you need me alive, at least for now. Second, I am a beast, but my loyalty towards humanity is still there. Lastly, forgive me for being blunt but… You better get used to having a vampire on your side, or you will cry out for god’s help instead.”

His frankness and profanity made most delegates yell out in anger.

“How dare you speak so arrogantly, fiend?!”

“I say we burn him, do not leave any ashes behind!”

“Why should we listen to his vile words?!”

“He could be a spy! No one should believe in a vampire!”

“Impale him and leave him to rot! Spill his blood!”

A voice echoed more strongly, silencing them all.

“Enough.”

Rein’s calm demeanour never failed to impose itself, for it was direct. He leaned again on his podium, to look down curiously yet worriedly. His gaze did not look at Lyssa or Bastian any differently, offering them the same consideration.

“You imply that danger is nearing. What do you wish to warn us of?”

Bastian and Lyssa exchanged a look, and then he answered.

“Everything.”

The word echoed in the stony chamber, and its foreboding tone managed to sway their minds. They really should worry and listen to him, even if he was a vampire. Otherwise, they would find death.

————–

A black steed halted its march, at last. Two bloody eyes glinted in the dark, concealed in the shadows of the huge fields.

Alaric smiled, standing proud between the many vampires around him. None matched the imposing stance of his heir, who arrived on a mighty horse. That jagged black armour could inflict fear on any soul, not only human ones. Many banners flowed, donning an emblem that was grander than the ones of other clans.

Those sharp green eyes glinted stalwartly below that draconic helmet. Her steps were decided and fierce, direct. She looked imposing and powerful. No other lord except her sire was as strong, and besides her stood her own brethren, loyal and mighty. All their jade eyes gleamed, menacingly. Like wolves stalking sheep, their stances were tense, determined.

Alaric felt pride when Nerys stood by his side. She bowed before him and whispered, with reverence.

“I answer your call. My claws and sword shall spill blood upon your feet.”

He smiled, venomously.

“Of course, you will.”

Nerys did not show doubt as she stood upright once more. She was sure of herself, cold and feral, but careful and sharp. A long silent breath escaped her as she looked ahead, at their objective. Both their eyes pierced the dark, for the horizon was red, painted by the setting sun. They still had to await the arrival of other clans, for all would aid them in their hunt. The sun would rise again, and once it hid, blood would be spilt.