Excuse me, but aren't you the man?

[Raelyse]

Standing in the middle of a desert with his only underling injured in the company of three bloodthirsty vampires was hardly what Raelyse had thought would happen to him when he first set out to Erebus. He had expected a scenic, leisurely ride and this one had been anything but. Making a mental note to fire the gnome as soon as they returned to Erebus safe and sound, the prince slowly but surely returned his attention to the task at hand. One had already started fighting the girl, but the other two kept their distance, slowly moving apart. From the way that they were moving, it was obvious to Raelyse that they were going to adopt a pincer formation. After countless swordsmanship lessons and even more on tactics, these things came naturally to him.

Inadvertently tightening his sweaty fingers around the handle of his finely crafted sword, the prince himself took a step backwards and shifted his vision between three sights, the two unoccupied vampires and the one attacking the girl. They eyed him and it became obvious with each step they took that they were both novices, to battle at least. One held a short sword while the other was carrying a pair of daggers but they seemed to circle far too much, giving Raelyse time to anticipate and formulate a way to counterattack their eventual offensive. From the looks of their gangly frames and the general vibe he got from them, he didn't foresee that being a very difficult task.

The daggered one was the first to strike, revealing his fangs as a means to distract and intimidate the prince, from his partner who was striking from the other side. The first to attack was moving with one of his blades coming from high in an attempt to stab Raelyse's shoulder while the other weapon was coming from low to meet the other dagger via the prince's stomach. The vampire behind was sprinting forward, his sword held at his right, showing no effort to hide the fact that his movements were indicating that he would strike in a diagonal motion upwards, aiming to sever the prince's body in two. All this information had come to Raelyse in a split second based on his stellar observation on his enemies, while it only took him another of those short moments to formulate his counterattack.

Maintaining his straight, perfect posture, Raelyse quickly moved his blade into the center of his body, then to his weaker left hand where the daggered (and quicker) vampire was quickly striking from. His moves were predictably slow, so it was easy for Raelyse to raise and then lower his blade and parry both of the blows, this while keeping his eye on the vampire with the short sword charging towards him. He wasn't far behind, so the prince ended it quickly by turning his body completely towards the bandit that was slower to attack. He raised his right leg and landed a perfect back kick on the vampire that was now behind him, striking him hard and square in the chest, causing him to fall back and dazed. When he raised his head again to glance at Raelyse, his jaw was left hanging open as he witnessed the supreme speed at which the prince moved.

Three nigh-impossibly quick steps took the silver haired warrior to the charging vampire and his poorly fashioned broad sword. One quick swipe deflected the clumsy blow, sending the short sword high and leaving the entire body of the bandit open for strike. But that was not the way that Raelyse fought. With a sinister smile across his handsome face, he made a quick 360 degree turn, using it to glance at the still dazed vampire behind him and the losing fight that the girl was fighting. It was not a waste for the prince for he used the confusing movement to temporarily stun his inexperienced opponent. With finesse befitting his ability, the prince used the momentum of the turn to power the strike of his blade which he brought from low to high in an unpredictable attack.

The vampire barely had time to register pain, his eyes glancing at the stump where the hand holding the short sword had been just a moment before. All he saw after that was the prince's form, hunched slightly to recover from the strike, his head turned, looking at the pale face with horror all over it. The smirk widened and the vampire thought about running but before his legs could even register the thought, the fine crafted titanium edge of Raelyse's sword swung across in a powerful blow from low to high, this time slicing across the neck of the vampire, cleanly decapitating the undead thief. Utilizing the momentum of yet another of his strikes, the prince turned to see the vampire's stunned attack partner, his muscles barely recovered from the force of Raelyse's parries.

He stuttered backwards out of fear, finally realizing the strength and speed of the warrior that lay before him. He turned to run but Raelyse had anticipated this yet again. Taking a step backwards, he dug his boot into the sand, reaching for the hand that still held the short sword. Swallowing his girly hate for all things bloody, the prince flicked the hilt with the tip of his boot and hit it into the air in front of him. With the grace and coordination of a sporting hero, the prince caught the blade by the handle and bent his hand backwards, preparing for a perfect throw.

With precision matching his previous acts, the prince threw the weapon, watching as it tore through the air at incredible pace before striking precisely, tip first into the back of the vampire's skull, instantly killing him.

Turning slowly and letting the fiery pain in his muscles slowly die down, he glanced at the bloodied body of the girl that lay there with the vampire and what was left of his hand. Stifling a laugh the prince gradually advanced on the undead warrior, who looked up at him as if in some sort of bloodlust. It barely affected him though and he merely widened his smirk and pulled his sword to his right, half glancing at its glimmer in the desert sun as it walked by.

"First your foolish friends, now you. It's a shame you vampires die so easily or I might have some satisfaction now," he said when his lips finally parted. He stared the vampire down, watching as senses returned to the bandit, who took one glance at his two downed comrades before standing to his feet and clutching his bloodied stump of a hand, ran as fast as he could into the distance. Raelyse closed his eyes for a moment before moving towards the downed girl. He did not have to lift his head to know that the shriek of horror had come from the vampire and the subsequent scream of pain came from his magically conjured icicle spear piercing the area in between both of his eyes perfectly.

The girl had been knocked unconscious but the prince had known from the melee before that most of the blood was probably the vampires. She had stood her own, for a while at least and from the looks of her swordsmanship, she had some tutelage. That was the extent of Raelyse's praise for her, before he moved back onto his carriage, sheathing his sword with his cane shaft and sitting there on the soft cushion. He had no healing spells but the prince knew that the gnome was still alive, for his heart still beat.

With a snide smirk across his face, the prince leaned back on his chair, put his feet up and wiped the sweat from his forehead and slammed the door shut.

Ventreas would awake soon, albeit with a powerful headache. When that happened, he would drive a napping Raelyse to Istien.

[Chiroptera]

((Bunnying!))

Consciousness returned slowly to Stem as cruel desert sunlight roasted his exposed skin. He opened his eyes and stared blankly at the sky, mentally scanning his body for injury. Upon finding no permanent damage, he pulled himself slowly into a seated position. When sitting up caused no further pain, the gnome clambered to his feet, wincing at the ringing in his ears and the migraine that pounded behind his eyes. He remembered a pale, smiling face and then the rapid approach of a fist . . . Stem's head jerked up and he stared at the barren ground around him.

His gaze fell on the corpses that lay strewn around the carriage. Vampires! How had they approached the carriage so quickly? He cursed himself for being caught off-guard. If he hadn’t been distracted by Raelyse’s incessant complaining, they would never have even gotten close, of that he was sure. Stem timidly climbed back onto the front of the carriage and cracked the window behind his seat. He sighed with relief when he saw the Prince’s immaculate figure reclining on the seat. He hadn’t really been worried for the Prince’s safety; he was sure his boss was powerful enough to take care of a few vampires by himself, but it was a relief to see that he was asleep and not waiting to scream threats and curses at the gnome for his carelessness.

Shutting the window as silently as he could, Stem hopped to the ground and stood beside the carriage to survey the damage. The luggage had only been taken a few meters away, but Stem still wanted to groan aloud. He’d had help loading the overstuffed trunks when they’d left Erebus, and the thought of moving them now by himself only made his sore body ache more. Not to mention that the obviously-broken lid of the trunk was there on the sand-

Stem gasped aloud as he suddenly remembered that the luggage wasn’t the only thing that had been in the trunk. He raced to the back of the carriage, jumping over a body and nearly falling in his haste.

Empty.

Where was the girl? Stem’s eyes trailed slowly back to the bodies. Most bore wounds that were the obvious marks of the prince’s cane-sword, testaments to the havoc of which the misleading highbrow was capable. He stepped hesitantly back towards the body he had leapt over, crouching down to flip it onto its back, his heart sinking as he recognized the half-elf. Her face was a swollen mess, red marks lined her neck, and her skin beneath the blood and grime was just as pale as that of the vampires. Stem knelt beside her and felt for a pulse, holding one hand over her mouth to check for breathing.

“Come on, girl,” he muttered gruffly as his fingers moved along her bruised neck. “I’m not gonna waste a healing spell on you if you’re dead.” Finally he found the faint flutter of a heartbeat. The gnome shook his head grimly at her luck and kept one hand at her chin, using the other to push her nose back into place. He cradled one arm beneath her head and held the other hand with fingers spread over her chest to cast another healing spell.

Eltarri’s heart sank when she opened her eyes and realized that she was once again resting on the arm of the gnome. His face was tight but he looked down at her with a warm smile that the half-elf was too miserable to return.

“You . . .” Tears blocked her throat and the girl had to swallow and try again. “You died too?”

Stem’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “Afraid not. Not unless this desert is hell and Raelyse is the devil.” He paused thoughtfully. “Then again . . .”

“The prince!” Eltarri gasped and sat up, eyes wide with alarm. “I tried to stop them, but I wasn’t fast enough, and then . . . did they kill him?”

“The prince is safe in his carriage, sleeping like a babe,” Stem said, a little surprised by her concern.

Eltarri looked around, saw the bodies scattered across the sand, and closed her eyes as a wave of relief swept over her. Stem must have recovered and woken up in time to rescue them! “Thank you, Stem, once again, for saving my life.”

Ventreas shook his head and looked back towards the trunks. “I’m just here to clean up.” He stood and went to the front of the carriage, then returned with a large waterskin that he handed to her. “Here, wash your face. Careful of your nose, though, it’ll take longer to mend than regular bruises.”

Eltarri sat in the sand and rinsed her face while the gnome set to work lugging the trunks back towards the carriage. She was slightly alarmed by the amount of blood that washed away with the water, but her face felt perfectly fine. She was more tired than she had been after the first healing, but Eltarri credited that to the gnome being weaker after killing all the vampires.

Stem wiped sweat off his face as he finished with the luggage and wearily went to pick up the trunk’s cover. Eltarri stood up and returned the depleted waterskin to his seat at the front, unconsciously tiptoeing around the silent carriage. As she went by the tightly-shut door, she bent down and picked up her sword, carefully steering her gaze away from the corpses nearby. When she reached the rear end of the carriage, Stem was standing beside the open trunk with the lid on the ground beside him.

“They broke the hinges, but if I lock it with a spell, it should stay shut and keep most of the dirt out,” he told her. “And I’ve rearranged things so that there’s a bit more space for-,” he stopped, noticing her expression. “You weren’t thinking I’d let you head off alone, were you? We’re practically still in the desert; there’s a good many miles to go before I’d trust you to stay alive by yourself.”

“But . . . the prince . . .”

Stem waved her objection away. “You came out before when they emptied the trunk. Was he angry when he saw you?”

“We were a little distracted,” Eltarri replied sarcastically.

“Exactly,” said Stem, gesturing towards the corpses on the ground. “By vampires.”

The simple reminder was enough to convince Eltarri of the wisdom of traveling in groups. She hated the trunk, but the thought of more bloodthirsty vampires waiting to prey on hapless travelers made the small space seem almost inviting. With a miserable sigh the girl stepped forward and set her sword into the trunk, then crawled in reluctantly after it.

“Don’t worry,” Stem said as he picked up the trunk’s cover. “The rest of the trip should be quite uneventful.”

“Please don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Eltarri groaned.

Stem grinned. “Just get some sleep. The next time the carriage stops, you’ll be a free woman.”

Eltarri closed her eyes as he set the cover back on. Though she now had enough room to allow for some space between her knees and her chest, the air in the trunk was already stuffy and thick, warmed further by the trunks that had been sitting in the sun. Sweat was beading on her forehead before the carriage even started moving again, and Eltarri tried to regulate her breathing, fighting the fear that wracked her body every time the carriage hit a rut. That’s not a vampire, stupid, she told herself often, but lying quietly was still one of the hardest things she’d ever forced herself to do.

[Raelyse]

When sleepy eyelids lifted, Raelyse was shocked to find that the sun had noticeably lost its glare from when he had fought the vampires. He stretched his tired arms and pulled apart the blinds of his moving carriage's windows to reveal that the sun was well on its way to setting. Some of its hue had changed but the prince knew there were still a few more hours of daylight left. The next thing that he noticed was that he could hear the clip-clop of horse hooves just in front of him as well as the occasional whinny. That was good, it meant that they weren't too traumatized from the desert and the vampires, which meant he would still get to Istien relatively on time. The sound of the hooves was even more soothing to his ears because they meant that they were on paved ground, not the sandy desert surface.

Constant thoughts on the desert inevitably turned back to those pale faced vampires he encountered. It was only then, through a combination of a second noticing of the sun that he realized that he had never thought about the fact that those three undead thieves were fighting in almost bright sunlight with no hint of hindrance or melting into dust to merge with the sand dunes. Despite their weakness, the prince deduced there must have been something different about them. Never had he heard of vampires frequenting deserts, especially in broad daylight. A second thought crept into his mind, why were they there? To the best of his knowledge, his underling had not often chosen to take the desert route and few people took it. Few caravans probably passed by that area which was why Raelyse was so shocked that they were there at that moment. Did they target Raelyse?

Any thoughts of doubt or fear were quickly vanished when Raelyse spied the imposing Istien University in the distance. He closed his eyes briefly, forgetting everything for a short while. He enjoyed Istien, he enjoyed wandering through the marble halls of Raiaera's song bards but this was the moment he enjoyed the most. For as he rejected his sense of sight briefly, his sense of hearing perked up briefly and he swore that even at this time, he could hear the sounds of elven singing in the distance. Raelyse admitted he had never liked hearing songs before, but Istien's beautifully magically enhanced melodies were quickly becoming one of his favorite things.

When his carriage door opened, Raelyse was greeted by a bloodied, beaten Stem. He had a swollen left eye and while there was visible effort to clean up his face, there was still the occasional hint of dried blood across his cheeks. There was a quiver in his hand as he held the door open and no sense of sucking up was evident across his face. The prince of Myrusia didn't notice though, dropping to the ground and striding purposefully towards the entrance to the grand elven building. When he had walked about ten feet, he turned around in time to see the gnome close the door slowly.

"Ventura," the prince said, actually forgetting his underling's name. "Find a place to stay for both you and he horses, make sure they're well fed and all that nonsense. Be here at the crack of dawn tomorrow."

And with that, Raelyse left Ventreas to his own, rude thoughts. Mostly directed at Raelyse as he moved towards the trunk.

[Chiroptera]

Eltarri clenched her hands tightly together, her mouth set in a firm line as she willed herself not to scream. The carriage had stopped. Why wasn’t Stem letting her out? Had something gone wrong? The air in the trunk was cooler than it had been before, leading Eltarri to believe that they were finally away from the desert. The light that filtered through the crack under the lid was softer too, as though it were early in the evening. She’d felt the carriage shift as the prince had gotten out and heard the commands he’d issued before departing. She even would have sworn that the gnome had been right outside; something had blocked the light . . .

So why was she still in the trunk?

The carriage lurched into motion and panic rose in Eltarri’s throat. Get a grip, stupid, it’s not vampires! But sweat dripped from her forehead anyway. By the time the carriage had stopped again, the half-elf’s fingers were cramped from being clenched so tightly together. When the lid above her began to move, a shiver of fear went down her spine as she stared at the widening crack of light.

“Still alive in there?”

The girl was out before Stem had even gotten the lid all the way off. She barreled away from the carriage and breathed deeply, struggling to contain the emotion that raged in her chest. Wind blew across her face and cooled her clammy skin. Open air had never smelled so good!

With another, more attentive sniff, the girl changed her mind. She looked around, lifting one hand to pinch her nostrils shut. Cobbled road had been exchanged for a dirt trail that led to a courtyard of hard-packed earth, ringed by a fenced meadow and a white barn whose double doors were wide open. The sounds of horses shifting and snuffling carried clearly across the sparsely-populated grounds. A few boys in livery moved about the barn, but none seemed to take special notice of the carriage in the courtyard.

“Sorry about the wait,” Stem said from behind her. “I thought it would be wiser not to let you out at the front door.”

“Where are we?” Eltarri questioned, fingers still at her face.

“This is Istien’s stable.”

“Who’s Istien?”

“It’s a university.” He smiled at her unconcealed ignorance. “It’s a school where people learn song and soul magic.”

Eltarri dropped her hand. “And by people you mean . . . wizards?”

Stem shrugged as he gently set the lid over the trunk. “Well yes, I suppose so, but normal people too.”

“Is the prince here to learn magic?”

Stem barked a laugh. “He’s here to learn more magic.”

Eltarri frowned in thought. If the prince knew magic, why had he left it to Stem to save them? She was about to ask when she realized that the gnome had already disappeared around the side of the carriage. A few of the livery-clad boys had gone to work unhitching the horses, but he obviously didn’t trust the youths with the Grander’s stallions.

“I’ll take care of them,” he told the boys firmly. “You boys can clean the carriage and fix the broken cover on the back.”

The lads moved to obey as the gnome took the horses’ leads out of their hands and headed towards the barn. Eltarri went after him, keeping a wide distance between herself and the frighteningly large animals.

“Am I anywhere near Eluriand?” She spoke timidly, afraid of the answer.

Stem heard the hope in her voice and flashed her a grin before turning his gaze back to the horse he was currying. “Near it? You're in it.”

Eltarri could barely contain the excited shout that tried to escape. She wanted to run over and hug the gnome, but she limited herself to an excited bounce on her toes as the whole day seemed to instantly brighten. “Thank you, Stem. For everything. I’d be dead twice over if not for you.”

The gnome cleared his throat uncomfortably. “It was nothing. Just try to be more careful from now on. Find some friends or something.”

Eltarri nodded. “Yeah, friends would be . . .” she trailed off with a bitter smile. How would she know what friends were? She’d never had any. Dismissing the dreary reminder, she lifted a hand in a wave. “See you around, Stem!”

The half-elf turned and left the barn, crossing the courtyard with a lively step as she thought through what she could do now that she'd reached the big city. Her steps were light and she felt as if she’d lost weight. She stopped in her tracks and turned up her face to peer at the darkening sky. A lot of weight. Lifting one hand to scratch her head, the leather strap of her harness shifted unburdened across her shoulder. Eltarri gasped in horror and turned around, kicking up clouds of dust as she ran back to the stable. The prince’s carriage still sat in the middle of the courtyard, but stablemen were gathered around the front end, pushing against it with all their might. It wasn’t moving.

Eltarri slowed her pace and jogged to the rear of the carriage, hoping they wouldn’t notice her before she’d retrieved her baggage. She lifted the gilded lid with effort and dropped it to the ground beside the carriage, then reached into the trunk and pulled out her sword with relief. As soon as her fingers had touched the hilt the carriage lurched towards her, the men on the other end crying out at the sudden give.

“Sorry!” Eltarri danced out of the way, cheeks going red as she stumbled backward with her sword held tightly in her hands. She quickly set it against her back and pressed the clasp to close the sling. The boys who hadn’t fallen onto their faces stared at her in confusion, but Eltarri only gave a quick nod of the head before running back towards the road, hoping they wouldn’t chase her down. She didn’t stop until she reached the point where the road once again became cobbled, about a fourth of a mile away. The white barn gleamed in the distance like a temple against the grassy hills that surrounded it.

Heart still pounding from the run, Eltarri stepped onto the road. She could see a huge building to the left that looked even more like a temple than the barn did. Assuming that it was the university, she turned right and began walking. Maybe tomorrow she would go and see if there were wizards there who could help her. For now, the girl could barely keep herself from lying down in the grass on the side of the street. The fields that bordered the road ended a few hundred yards ahead, merging into the outskirts of a suburb that seemed to be shutting down for the night. A large edifice down the street drew her attention as she got nearer, and when she was close enough to read the sign that hung above its door, the half-elf smiled with anticipation and went in.

“Welcome to the Wizard’s Rest,” greeted a cheery woman as Eltarri stepped inside. Her expression became motherly and concerned at the sight of the girl and she took hold of her hand, leading her towards the kitchen. “What’s a young thing like you doing out on your own? Come with me, dearie. What you need is a hot meal and a warm bed, and four gold coins is all it’ll cost you for both.”

Thirty minutes later her jacket and harness were resting on a rickety table in one corner of a bedroom and the red-handled sword sat with her boots on the floor beside it. Eltarri lay on a fluffy mattress with one hand curled beneath her cheek, oblivious to the troubles of reality as she drowned in a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

[Raelyse]

There was a visible difference in Raelyse as he moved from outside Istien University to inside it. His posture shifted slightly, to straighten his back and heighten his frame. Even though he was not short by any standards, he seemed to look up to many of the significantly taller elves. Their flowing blonde locks dwarfed his neck length silver. Even then though, the prince did not seem alien, in fact he moved as if he was one of them. He seemed to measure every step, every time his heel touched the ground to the moment it left it, Raelyse was in perfect control and with his grace and natural poise, he was fitting seamlessly into this community of elves.

But it took a closer look to identify the differences between Raelyse with his underlings and Raelyse with the elves. Upon his face, his lips had curled into a genuine smile, one that would instantly widen when he nodded to greet the bards and warriors that slipped through the corridors. Non-elves were treated as inferior in this institution but the prince of Myrusia had crafted an incredible reputation in Istien, one which surely humbled any other non-elf. They all knew him, knew of his significant repertoire, his relentless attitude to learning a song spell but most of all, they respected him because he could out sing many elves, despite the human's natural disadvantage, juxtapositioned against the elves' natural affinity for song and song magic.

While Raelyse continued to move through the halls, tapping his cane on the ground below, he began to search, his head tilting from side to side to search for the one elf that could help him. There were few here that knew of Raelyse's true self and one of them was Legiomir. Beneath his hair, which age had turned into less than gold, the brain below constantly ticked with thoughts of the prince's true self: the cocky, condescending Myrusian who deemed everyone as inferior. Not that he cared of course, the two were like in mind.

Raelyse found him near his office, leaning against the wall, turning his wand in between his fingers. The haughty elf had made the prince something of his prodigy and had groomed him to become a great song mage and by all accounts, it seemed as if the prince would exceed many Istien alumni.

"I'd say well met, Raelyse, but I seldom enjoy pitting my ego against your's," the elf said, rising off the wall and stepping towards him.

"Perhaps it is because yours' always seems to lose," the prince said with a smile. Upon closer inspection though, Legiomir realized it was a smirk.

"In your mind only," Legiomir responded, closing the final distance between them and greeting the prince in a tight hug, one that he more than reciprocated. When the two parted, their faces seemed to be almost identical. They were both handsome, confident and had sharp, intimidating features. Legiomir's pointy ears seemed their only difference and the elf never grew tired of pointy out the superiority he appeared to gleam from them. Raelyse of course, saw it the other way, deeming them as a disadvantage.

Small talk ensued with both striding through Istien's halls, greeting their fellow students and teachers with condescending smiles, knowing full well where they were going. They had briefly talked about it during the prince's last visit and now that he had returned, a subtle smile was all that Legiomir needed to know that was why he had returned.

"And you should have seen the legs on mine," Legiomir whistled when the topic moved to the pair's latest conquests.

"I do like elvish," the prince said and they exchanged lewd smiles before arriving at their destination. "In fact, I recently purchased an Elvish steel sword, rapier, finely crafted."

"You will have to show me some time," Legiomir responded, opening the door and indicated for Raelyse to go in first. "Now, you remember our deal?"

It only took an exchange of smirks for the elf to know the prince's answer and he shut the door behind them, activating the magic within the room.

[Chiroptera]

“Come on, Eltarri, let’s go make a castle!”

The half-elf could feel the heat of the sun on the top of her head and the shifthing hardness of gravelly sand beneath her feet. A long braid swished against her back, but she had to tilt her head back to look up into her mother’s smiling face.

“I don’t want to play in the sand.” Her voice sounded loud and whiny.

“Come on, Eltarri, have some fun for once!” Red eyes sparkled as she threw a handful of sand at her daughter. Eltarri frowned. There was something wrong with the carefree woman who stood with dark skin glowing in the sunlight before her.

“Mama, I thought the sun hurt your eyes . . .”

“You really are a useless little half-breed, aren’t you?” The proud, sneering voice that issued from her mother was one that’d made her cringe since the first time she’d heard it less than twenty-four hours ago, even though the speaker wasn’t the arrogant, silver-haired prince to whom the voice belonged. The dark-skinned woman stepped towards her, eyes intent on the girl as her face broke into a sly grin that revealed two sharp, abnormally long canines . . .

Eltarri’s eyes flew open, her breath catching in her throat when she felt the wad of cloth that had been shoved into her mouth. For a moment she doubted her eyesight, so dark was the room before her. The chamber was silent, but there was a heaviness to the air that alerted her to the presence of others. She tried to jerk a hand to her face, but her wrists screamed at the movement and she realized that they were tied tightly behind her back. The girl gagged as the cloth tickled her throat, a cold sweat breaking out on her forehead as a flicker of movement caught her eye. In an instant the situation became clear, and in what was perhaps the wisest decision of her life she realized the futility of struggling and lay still, eyes wide and heart pounding as she peered into the darkness in search of her captors.

“We were told to track the scent of the people who killed Sol and the rest.” The voice was a hoarse, insistent whisper that came from a few feet away from the bed. “Instead we’re sneaking into hotels and tying up random girls? We aren't allowed to feed on a job!”

“I tracked the scent. It led us to her.” This one was softer, slightly defensive, but not intimidated by the other’s rebuke.

“You’re a fool. The blood could have come from anywhere. How could this girl have killed five of our men?”

“She probably didn’t, but the scent is strong,” the second one snapped. “The blood on her is fresh.”

“No girl could have killed them.” The first voice was decisive. “Maybe she stole his clothes or something.”

“Wait, look . . .” The voice came again from the corner of the room where the table was.

“Holy shit. Do you think it’s hers?”

“Hell no. It’d be too big for her to pick up. He must be here.”

“What, did he wait till she fell asleep and then go to meet a mistress or something?”

The other one snickered darkly. “Makes sense. If the blood was on him and he was on her . . . He’ll probably return before morning. What say we leave his woman’s head on the pillow to welcome him back?”

“How will that help us? Sol and his boys wouldn’t have attacked him if he didn’t have something of value on him. No point in letting his wealth go to waste just for revenge.”

“So we take her with us?” The voice was tinged with reluctance.

“Get the sword, too. He’ll come back and find his woman and his weapon missing. We give him a little while to consider their worth, and then we send him a ransom note.”

Eltarri couldn’t keep herself from trembling. A soft whimper slid from her throat and two pairs of eyes darted towards her.

“She’s awake.”

“Doesn’t matter. Grab her and make sure she’s quiet.” Someone moved towards the door.

“Wait . . . I think the sword’s enchanted or something.”

“What are you talking about?”

“It’s too heavy to move!” The rustling of movement wasn’t followed by the scraping of iron across wood that Eltarri expected, and a moment later one of them spoke from the foot of her bed.

“Damn. Leave it, then. We need to go.”

Eltarri cringed back as a hand reached towards her through the darkness and roughly grabbed the front of her shirt. She was hauled into a sitting position at the edge of the bed and a pale face appeared in front of hers with teeth bared in a leer that showed long, pointed incisors.

“If you make any noise,” he said in a low whisper, “I’ll break each of your fingers slowly, one at a time. Got me?”

Something inside of her wanted to stare defiantly back or to scream and kick with her unbound feet, but something else, something stronger sapped every ounce of boldness that she possessed and left her too weak to even blink. She stared with wide eyes, too numb with terror to even show that she’d heard the threat. Vampires! And this time there was no magical gnome to save her. Desperate loneliness made a lump rise in the half-elf’s throat even though the gag in her mouth made breathing hard enough as it was.

The vampire seemed to sense her paralysis. He smirked and straightened, then reached down to grab her by the waist and hoist her into the air. Eltarri choked as her stomach hit his shoulder and forced the air in her lungs to rush up against the cloth in her mouth. By the time she could breathe normally through her nose again, the cold air on her feet told her that she was outside and being carried swiftly away from the inn, her sword, and the only person who could provide hope of a rescue.

[Raelyse]

When Raelyse walked through the other Istien's grand entrance hall, this time moving in the other direction, he did so with a swagger that appeared to be grander than ever before. Trainees and initiates noticed this and congratulated him, for his confidence could only mean one thing. He had just learned and perfected a new song and in Istien, when one added another melody to their repertoire, it was a grand occasion. However, Raelyse's confidence and general happiness that day seemed to be greater than ever before. They had seen him learn songs before and this was his fifth. Perhaps he was happy that he reached that landmark. As they saw him depart from Ost’Dargorlin, many thought that maybe the latest was a grand spell that could humble armies. Or maybe the secret to an impenetrable defense?

None knew, of course and they could only guess. For Raelyse left Istien promptly, taking the most direct route and walking in such a manner that suggested he was in quite a rush. Only Legiomir truly knew why the prince was in such a great mood. Close inspection would reveal that both of them had rings under their eyes, products of having stayed up the whole night doing two tasks. The first was learning the latest addition to Raelyse's arsenal but the second was a considerably rarer occurrence within Istien's walls. None noticed of course but as Raelyse left, he carried with him not one, but two blades. There was his usual sword cane which helped him walk effectively, but strapped to his waist was a finely crafted rapier that had been a recent purchase. Both pulsed with new energy and that added to Raelyse's elation at having learnt a new song.

It was a good day.

Stem was waiting like a good underling outside Istien's walls, like he had been since the crack of dawn. Unlike his leader, he had turned in early after cleaning the horses and the carriage. He sat in the driver's seat, on the verge of falling asleep when the scabbard of a finely crafted sword landed hard on his lap, instantly dismissing any thoughts of resting from his mind. He turned instantly to his left where a grinning Raelyse stood, his hand extended, indicating that he had thrown his rapier firmly onto the lap of the gnome.

"Well done," the prince said, with a smile across his face. "I give you one task all night, to fetch my rapier, and now you sleep on the job. Those are grounds for dismissal, gnome. Under any other boss..."

The prince continued to talk, but the gnome ignored him and jumped off, moving towards the passenger seat and opening the door, allowing Raelyse to enter, even as he continued to talk. The driver handed the prince his sword, which he snatched roughly from his grasp. Stem glanced up at his leader, disdain in his eyes, even though he was trying his best to hide it.

"To Erebus, Grander?" the gnome asked.

"Nay, good hobbit," he said, out of jest. Even though he was tired, Raelyse's excitement was keeping him awake. Even then...

"Take me to the Magic Mule . I know it is somewhere in Eluriand and I wish to rest before we make for Erebus. Perhaps we leave tonight, I know not how much beauty sleep I require this night."

The prince glanced up through the window on the opposite door, not even noticing that the carriage had started to move and the door had long been slammed close. Stem was growing frustrated, not that Raelyse knew or cared.

"The curse of my beauty... It's so hard to hate it..."

[Chiroptera]

The trip was shorter than she’d expected; she’d seen the cobbled roads exchanged for grass by the thin light of dawn and then they’d reached the tunnel and all she’d seen since was stone. Looking up from the vampire’s heels had revealed that they were moving down a steeply-sloping tunnel that had been paved with orderly steps, the smooth walls on either side painted in reddish-brown designs that Eltarri was jostling too much to clearly discern.

“Please tell me that’s not what I think it is.”

The icy voice had stopped her captors in their tracks. The one that carried her spoke hesitantly. “Let me explain . . .”

“You didn’t turn her, did you?”

“Gods, no.” The other kidnapper’s voice was unnaturally loud. “We’re going to hold her ransom.”

“Did you find the guys who did Sol?”

“Long story short . . . no. Not yet.” Her captor walked forward and she was dropped suddenly and carelessly to the floor. “We need to go back into town.”

Face finally free of the vampire’s cloak, she quickly surveyed her surroundings by the light of a torch in the hand of one of the men. It was a large room, big enough to fit about fifty people comfortably, and the ground and walls were of smooth grey stone. The floor sloped gently away from where she was, and looking up at the waist-high thing behind her made sweat break out on her forehead. As far as she could tell, she was lying against an altar that was the big enough for sacrificing someone of her size! Was this some kind of underground temple? Looking back at the men in the room with her, Eltarri counted three others aside from the ones who had captured her. Five? I couldn’t even take care of one when I had my sword!

“You expect us to leave her here?”

“She can’t go anywhere.” Her kidnapper had regained his boldness and spoke defiantly, challenging them to contradict him, which none did.

One of the men approached her with thick ropes, quickly tying her ankles and securing the bonds around her wrists, ignoring her feeble protests as the hemp rubbed against her bare skin. Then he moved towards the other side of the room and they left in a group, taking the torch with them and speaking in quiet murmurs, leaving the girl alone with her thoughts to shiver in the cold and to stare futilely into the silent darkness.

It seemed like hours before the whisper of motion caught her ears. Steps approached from the tunnel, and then the orange glow of a torch illuminated the figures of two men moving towards her at a walking pace. They stopped in front of her, the one without the torch a few feet closer than the other.

“Morning, Sunshine.”

She stared at the boots in front of her face, preparing to dodge in case he made any sudden moves. She jerked back when the brown leather did shift, but instead of the kick that she was expecting, the vampire dropped into a smooth crouch, hands resting on his knees as he grinned down at her.

“Turns out we’re having trouble finding your man. Apparently he never came back from the mistress.” His eyes glinted jeeringly.

“Just get what we need,” the other one ordered wearily from behind him. She recognized him as one of her kidnappers, the one who hadn’t carried her. The vampire closest to her scowled, but he reached down and yanked the cloth out of her mouth.

“Where is he?” he demanded. Eltarri’s tongue was dry and tasted like cotton, but she glared up at the vampire, ordering herself not to show weakness.

“I travel alone,” she answered firmly.

“Maybe so, but you bed with company. Who is he?”

Eltarri tried to shake her head but only managed to scratch her cheek against the cold rock. “There is no one else. Ask the . . .” she stopped herself, deciding at the last moment not to turn the vamps onto the kindly innkeeper. The interrogation would no doubt be less than gentle, and even if she was the only one who could testify to her solitude, the woman didn’t deserve to have vampires after her just for being friendly.

The vampire’s face was rapidly darkening. “I don’t have the patience to put up with your little games. Your man never came back to your room and I need to know who and where he is.”

“The sword is mine!” Eltarri yelled desperately, her voice whiny as it echoed on the rocks. “Look at my room again. There’s only one pair of boots, one bag, the harness on the sword isn’t big enough to fit a-,”

He reached down and jerked her by her collar towards him, pale face livid with rage. With one easy movement he stood and lifted her to her feet, even though her bound ankles prevented her from being able to stand up straight. He pushed her against the stone structure behind her and transferred his grip to a tight hold on her hair, then jerked her around to face the rock.

Eltarri looked down at the altar and was surprised to see that it was hollow, filled to the brim with water that looked stale and murky even in the scarce light.

“Good enough for horses, good enough for lying sluts.” Then he pushed her head into the water. For a few seconds after her face had hit the icy liquid, Eltarri was still processing his words. Good enough for horses? Did they sacrifice horses on this thing? Then the shock wore off and the realization that she couldn’t breathe hit her like a sack of rocks. A tight grip seemed to be clamped around her chest, crushing her lungs. The vampire’s grip was tight on her hair, pressing her down, holding her beneath the surface despite her frantic struggling. Never before had Eltarri experienced the kind of panic that was pulsing through her brain.

She was only under for a few seconds before she was jerked out, wide-eyed and gasping, stagnant water flying from her hair, to face the merciless visage of the vampire.

“Who is he?”

Eltarri’s mouth hung open as she sucked in air. No wonder her mother had always warned her against going near the underground streams. People actually swam for fun?

“Please, I’m not lying,” she whimpered. “It’s my-,”

Her head was shoved down again before she could finish. She managed to take a quick breath before hitting the water, but the slimy liquid still went into her nose. Her lungs clamored for air and the breath she held turned stale and painful. When she was pulled up again, tears mingled with the dirty water that dripped from her face onto her shirt.

“Who is he?”

She stared at him helplessly. He wanted a name. He wanted a companion who didn’t exist. He wasn’t going to believe her, and the time underwater would just get longer and longer until . . .

The third dunk did last longer, long enough that her vision got blurry and pinpoints of color flashed in her brain before she was once again free of the brine. The clamp on her lungs was agony. Even being pulled out was painful from the knowledge of having to go back under. Desperation rid her of the noble intentions that had governed her tongue. With a flash of shame, dirty fluid pouring down her throat, she suddenly knew that she would give anything to stop him from pushing her back under the water. The fourth time she was pulled up for air, her lungs were burning so much that she could barely draw in a quavering breath.

“Who is he?”

Her jaw worked, but her throat was too raw for speech. The hand on the back of her head tightened and moved, but with a harsh pant she forced her voice to work.

“The prince!”

The vampire paused. “What prince?”

“Prince Raelyse. He- we came yesterday across the Black Desert to Einstein University.”

He frowned. “Einstein?”

“Istien,” the one behind him said, his tone dubious. “We saw a fancy carriage rolling through a few hours ago . . . she might not be lying.”

“I’m not lying!” Now that she had submitted, all she could think about was making sure that they didn’t punish her anymore. Cold air from the water wafted up to her face, promising pain and frigid suffocation. She’d tell them she’d danced naked across the desert if it meant that they would leave her alone.

The vampire who held her hair sneered contemptuously. “Good girl.” He dropped her against the edge of the stone and set off across the chamber with the other one close behind.

“Tell Grim and Kale to find the carriage and deliver the note. We need to be ready for him.”

The other vampire responded, but their voices trailed away as they ascended through the tunnel. Eltarri leaned weakly against the altar and slid back to the floor, shaking from the cold and hating herself for being so pathetically weak.


__________

The dark-clothed vampire waited against a building, leaning nonchalantly with his hat tipped low over his face. The elaborate carriage across the street gleamed in the sunlight, its spotless façade tainted only by the wear to the wheels that closer inspection had revealed. Despite its frippery and uptight appearance, that little number had gone through some difficult terrain, and where could one find an unpaved road other than through the Black Desert?

A soft smile played on Kale’s lips as he ran his tongue over the sharp ends of his teeth, a habit he’d picked up after being turned. This was so much more fun than the usual robbery. The carriage’s owner was inside the building and the short little man who was apparently the driver had left his high seat, not looking very happy about having to wait in the heat.

Kale fingered the folded parchment in his hand, spreading it once again to read it over, making sure that there were no errors. As the only literate one of the group, the task of scribing the ransom note had fallen to him, but it’d been a long time since he’d made use of his elementary education.

Prince Raylease,

We have your woman and you will never see her agin if you do not give us all of your welth. Do not contact city gards and follow these directions from Istien to find us. Come alone with your trejure, or else we will kill her.

Below that was a list of directions and landmarks that would lead the prince to the ambush site. Satisfied, the vampire folded the note again and peered from beneath the brim of his hat. Catching no sight of the dwarf-sized driver, Kale smoothly straightened and walked towards the carriage, keeping his shoulders hunched to hide his unusually pale skin. He reached the side of the carriage and cast one darting look around him for the driver before pulling the door open with the barest of squeaks.

The inside of the carriage seemed a mess of cushions and pillows. Kale eyed the womanly décor distastefully, then reached out and gently set his note onto the middle of the seat. As he leaned forward, making sure that his weight didn’t rock the carriage, his eye caught something that glittered among the cushions. He made out the shape of a finely-made hilt, and that was enough to warrant a face-splitting grin that remained firmly on his face as he hurried off through the city.
_______________

“What the hell is that?”

Eltarri cowered further into a ball, eyes closed and breathing ragged as she tried to make herself disappear. The altar scared her, but its cold hardness seemed almost protective as she rested against it.

“It’s a sword,” a newly-arrived voice replied as if stating the obvious. “Got it from her prince.”

Eltarri’s eyes flew open. They’d found the prince? Did that mean he was . . .

“Did you give him the note?” This was her carrier.

“Of course. Left it in his carriage and got this free in the bargain.” His voice became a self-congratulatory chortle. “He’ll get the note next time he gets in, find his pretty sword missing, and then he’ll come here with his treasure for us to take!”

A cold silence met this pronouncement, but Eltarri sighed inaudibly. They hadn’t hurt him. Her lie hadn’t killed anyone yet.

“Wait, Kale . . . you told him to bring the ransom . . . here?”

[Raelyse]

When the prince of Myrusia awoke, it was on a fabulous goose down comforter with some of the softest and most soothing pillows he could ever imagine. Night had come to Raiaera and the ajar window allowed a slight breeze into his room, chilly but not enough to be uncomfortable. He moved to the side of his bed, slightly regretting not bringing a warm body to share the pillows with, sitting by the edge and reached for his cane. He stopped for a moment, hesitating just as his fingers touched the jet black handle, cold as ice. He glanced briefly to his left, to the window.

"Yeah, I can make it," he said to himself, slowly. Jerking himself onto both of his feet, the prince put both of his arms out to try and balance. His right foot did not immediately hurt but Raelyse knew that would come soon. With a sigh, he shifted, walking clumsily towards the window. It was the mental barrier, he knew. Often times, particularly in sparring and battles, the prince had managed to balance himself perfectly without his cane. Only now that he was thinking about failure did the trepidation arrive. He ambled, feeling like a baby taking first steps until he closed the short distance and shifted towards the window, pushing it open and resting his body on it, looking down on the dark night.

He enjoyed this area; for the rate of crime and shady activities was low this close to Istien University with so many Bladesingers and Tel Aglarim wandering the streets. The prince smiled as he enjoyed the bright lights of the city as the wind ruffled his long silver hair. He had shed his shirt and jacket some time ago, preferring to sleep with his torso uncovered so he could really feel the cold wind. Glancing down at his leg, then at his body, touched by the cold, Raelyse smiled to himself. He had become stronger and he had learnt not to love the cold of Myrusia so much. Truly, the prince enjoyed life outside of his pathetic little country, despite the title it granted him.

The prince enjoyed the sights for a bit longer, the people milling in and out (but mostly in) told him that the night was still young and the potential for that warm body to decorate his elaborate bed was still available. He contemplated the thought for a moment, before moving towards the bed and grabbing his cane, but not before lazily draping his white shirt across his shoulders and buttoning up the bottom few buttons. He had seen his carriage from the window and lazily, he had forgotten to remind the gnome to take his clothing up so now, Raelyse had to find the bugger and tell him to do it.

The prince smirked to himself, reveling in his narcissism and status for a brief moment before leaving his room.

------------------------

It didn't take long to find his carriage among those that were present for even though they were all luxurious, Raelyse’s was the only one looking a little worse for wear after a trip through a desert. The wheels appeared to be clogged with sand and dirt covered almost every part of it. The prince sighed, glancing around before moving in to inspect the vehicle further.

Before he could though, he heard a voice screaming from behind him, as well as the sound of two feet moving quite fast towards him. He didn't need to turn around to know that it was the gnome.

Stem reached Raelyse before the prince had appeared to acknowledge him, but that didn't stop him from blurting out loud.

"R-R-Raelyse," he said in between breaths, to which he received a wide eyed gasp.

"When did we get married? Because as I recall, only my wife gets to call me by my first name. That's three weeks in the guard house for you, halfling," the prince said, scoffing though his good mood from his time at Istien and his well earned nap seemed to take the edge off the tone of his voice.

Swallowing his pride for what must have been the millionth time since the sun rose this morning, Stem gathered his courage and spoke up. "Sorry, Grander," he said slowly, before remembering what he wanted to say. Unfortunately, Raelyse quickly cut him off.

"What did I say about cleaning the carriage?"

"Uhhh... Nothing, Grander..." Stem replied, his voice faster now as he realized the emergency at hand. "Prince Raelyse, we have a bit of an emergency."

''I don't care," replied the nonchalant prince, his impatience stating to resurface. "Fetch me my rapier, I want to admire it. Then bring my clothes up to my room, I'm going to go produce another heir."

Raelyse had already turned and left when the gnome shouted out loudly, "They took it!"

He stopped for a moment. Raelyse stopped everything for a moment before turning slowly. It was only then, that his blue eyes stared down Stem that he realized that the gnome was in full battle order. A small triangle with a cross through it on either arm indicated his rank, while strapped to his combat belt was a pair of maces and other pockets which no doubt held other things meant for combat.

"When were you intending of informing me of your incompetence?'

"I tried to, Grander," Stem stumbled. "But the concierge wouldn't tell me which one your room was. I tried to go after it, but you know I can't read, Sir."

''And why would you need to read, halfling?" Raelyse said slowly, anger slowly building up. His knuckles were going white grabbing the handle of his cane, the gnome observed and he took a terrified step backwards.

"They left this," the gnome replied, handing his leader a roll of parchment.

Raelyse read over it quickly before scrunching it up into a ball and throwing it hard at the gnome's face. When he looked up, the prince was visibly calmer. The nerves on his face screamed with pain at the place where he had been struck, but Stem could have sworn that the Grander looked almost... amused.

"You will follow these instructions and take me to that place. A little chivalry will boost my reputation around these parts. Though I forget which woman they are talking about, I will gladly refornicate with any of those beauties again."

Stem unfurled the paper and read the directions as best as he could before moving off, noticing the prince strutting through the streets, keeping only half an eye on him. The gnome sighed, this was the best way he could get Raelyse to come with him. He knew in his heart that he could not rescue anyone by himself and he even had a slight clue which woman they had captured.

"Oh and Stem!" Raelyse shouted. "You're not off the hook yet, leaving the carriage vulnerable to robbers... Tsk tsk tsk..."

He rambled on for a while but the gnome blocked it out like he had done so many times and merely sighed once more before consulting the crude map and moving off.

[Chiroptera]

“What’s taking him so bloody long?”

Eltarri kept her gaze on the ceiling overhead, even though she could barely see anything in the semi-darkness of the cave. She lay on her back, knees bent, arms aching, and shoulders protesting the awkward position. Her shirt was still damp, and even though the cold of the stone seeped through the thin material, she held her muscles tightly clenched to keep from shivering. She was hoping that they would forget about her, at least for the next few hours. The air was thick with tension despite the relaxed stances of the three vampires in the stone room with her. Last time she had looked, two had been squatting on the floor, playing with dice by the light of a candle while the third stood against the wall beside the entrance to the tunnel, polishing a small knife. The afternoon had passed in relative silence, the quiet disturbed only when the vampire outside came in and was replaced with one of the others. She’d spent the afternoon self-reproachfully replaying the events of the day. Her guilty conscience confronted her for not holding out for at least a few more dunks. The prince would be safe since he certainly wouldn’t leave his fancy university to rescue a beggar he met in the desert, but if Stem came out here alone and was taken by surprise again . . .

“Looking forward to guard duty?” Grim asked facetiously. Eltarri shuddered at the thought that she was beginning to recognize their voices.

“Not him, you idiot, the prince. It’s nightfall already and he still hasn’t come. Are you sure the directions were clear enough?”

“How should I know? You’re the one who let Kale write them.”

“Of course they were clear enough,” Kale retorted indignantly. “And I don’t see why I should have to stay here when I’m the one who got the sword in the first place. It should be me who gets to -,”

“Shut up.” Tarrence’s voice was terse and final. “You’re the idiot who sent him here, so you get to help welcome him. And that light better go off as soon as we get the signal.”

Eltarri could almost hear the blank stares in the silence. The vampires were certainly mean, but the longer she stayed in their presence, the surer she became that their cruelty was not equaled by their brightness.

“The . . . signal?”

“Nomell’s birdcall, idiot. He’ll give the call whenever he sees someone coming, and then he’s going to let the prince go down the tunnel so that we can jump him when he gets inside.”

“Isn’t that . . . risky?” Kale’s voice was hesitant.

“You should’ve thought of that when you sent him here in the first place!”

“What if the girl lied?” Grim said nervously. “What if this prince really wasn’t her guy?”

Silence met his words, but a few seconds later Eltarri’s view of the ceiling was blocked by the ashen face of a vampire.

“You didn’t lie to me, did you, Sunshine?” Tarrence’s voice sent shivers down her spine.

Eltarri glared at him, wishing they hadn’t put the cloth back into her mouth so that she could answer him with appropriate terminology. She knew her defiance was useless and stupid, but it helped to alleviate some of the guilt for her earlier submission. Better late than never . . .

The vampire’s mouth opened again, but a soft sound similar to that of a nightingale’s trill carried down from the tunnel.

The last thing she saw was Tarrence’s face as it jerked towards the others, and then the candle was extinguished and a heavy darkness settled over the cave, the silence broken only by the whisper of vampire movement. Eltarri’s heart began to pound as an almost painful feeling of hope swelled in her throat.

Someone was coming . . . for her?