Excerpt from a private journal, author unknown
I have become the Court Necromancer. Master Gisli’s knowledge has been invaluable, and his library has almost everything I could need. My Necromantic knowledge has increased tenfold, and I believe I am ready to begin the first experiment on my journey to my final goal.
Magical Foci are never simply an object. That object is often infused with a glyph which marks it as a Focus. The glyph is so complex and detailed, that there has never been a powerful Focus which was small. The more complicated the glyph, the more powerful the Focus. This is why the most powerful Wizards have had so many Foci, covering their hands and bodies. Each Focus by itself is weak, yet they can be strong when put together.
For a Necromantic Focus, the glyph dictates how many Souls can be stored in it. My current Focus - a necklace given to me by husband - is able to hold, at most, twelve Souls. Any more than that would shatter it, and I refuse to lose this last token of the man I love more than anything in this world or the next. Even though I have not heard from him since my exile, I choose to believe that his love for me is as strong as mine is for him.
This theory was put to paper by the Court Necromancer from eight generations ago. He found a way to make glyphs which are extremely complex and intricate, yet make them so small that they are invisible to the naked eye. The implications of this are monumental. If this works as theorised, it could lead to an infinite Focus. This means an infinite store of Souls… which would make my primary goal so much more achievable.
Vanya awoke from her light sleep and sat up, rubbing her eyes. The sun was just setting, bathing her in a faint green light before it would lower below the ridged horizon. After taking a few minutes to wipe the sleep from her eyes, she crawled out of the tent and stretched properly, raising her arms above her head and feeling the blood rush in her ears as her muscles were awoken. She brushed her hair then, with a flick of her wrist, an isolated wind blew into her face, working out thedead hairs and letting it fall gently around her shoulders.
She had been seven years old when she realised she could control the wind, to an extent. It had not come as much of a surprise; after all, her grandfather could levitate objects and her father was a wizard of cryomancy. It was only a matter of time before Vanya showed magical aptitude, and her family had a tutor on standby for when she did. She was only a Mage, so she could not do much more than summon small gusts of wind which she mostly used to comb her hair, but it still had its uses.
As she had grown older, her strength with her magic had grown. As a child, she could not do much more than make a piece of paper flutter. Now, as a young woman by Elven standards, she was able to knock a person over with her magic, although doing that certainly wore her out more than simply loosening her hair. The hours she had spent under Gëron’s watchful eye, reading treatises and theories on magic, had given her everything she needed to know about how it worked, from no less than eight different perspectives.
One mistake had come when she had turned thirty-three, however. In an effort to see just how powerful a gust she could create, the princess had accidentally blown two Elves off the edge of the barricade, who had only been saved by the sharp eyes of High Prince Lurain, two levels below. Vanya herself had completely exhausted herself, slipping into a comatose state for three months. That had been the start of her father’s coddling, to her recollection, and although she still felt a pang of guilt towards those two Elves, that had been overpowered by her growing enmity towards her father’s ever-expanding control over her life.
Now, she rarely used her magic. Because of the nature of Mages, blowing wind was the best she could do. It was impossible for her to use her magic to fly or levitate anything, she could only control the exact movements the wind moved, which allowed her to blow her hair to make it straighter in the mornings. When she was younger, this information had saddened her, but now she found herself caring little for it.
The princess pushed these thoughts from her mind and proceeded to pull down her tent, using the last slivers of sunlight to make her task easier. The two of them - for she was travelling alongside the Vampire, Ana - were drawing close to the Chasm, and the judgement of the Wyrms. This was a milestone which Vanya had been looking forward to most. She had never left Glaila, and so had never met the creatures she had read so much about. She knew so little about them; they were extremely skilled telepaths, ancient, wise, and they apparently held the best interests of Traotos as a whole. However, there was still no telling exactly what they were. There had been dragons with no limbs, yet the Wyrms had claimed themselves that they were not draconic besides their appearance. They were far too large to be reptiles, and although they had feathers, it was not nearly enough to be classed as a bird. What could she learn from her own conversation with them?
Once the final hints of sunlight had left the world in darkness, Ana stepped gracefully out of her tent and began to bring it down. Vanya was convinced that the Vampire had been awake for hours already, because she did not look like she had just woken up. Her hair was brushed, combed, and tied back. Her eyes were clear of any sleep. Her clothing was immaculately worn, as always, rather than ruffled and hurriedly assembled. In just a few minutes, the two women were packed up and walking once again. Despite Vanya’s offers of assistance, Ana was once again carrying most of their luggage, although the packs did not seem to be weighing her down in the slightest. She spoke steadily and readily, and each step was as sure and confident as if she were carrying nothing but her clothing.
Of conversation, there was little. Vanya had no idea what to ask Ana, and she did not want to be rude by asking about Vampirism. Especially considering if she did ask something offensive, it may very well be the last thing she ever asked. So, she kept silent as they walked through the forest of monstrous trees. The trees were absolutely massive. Immensely thick and incredibly tall, it was like walking through a hall of massive stone pillars of varying shades of grey and brown. The ground was a carpet of leaves, a mixture of dead brown and fresh green, with the snap of a twig every few steps. There were some smaller trees, but they looked paltry in comparison to the main behemoths. From time to time, they would see an animal prance out of their path or hear one scurry out of sight.
“You are wise to fear the wrath of one more powerful than yoursssself…” A strong, deep voice suddenly sounded in Vanya’s ears. She drew her sword and spun around, trying to find the man who had spoken.
“Who is there?” She asked, ignoring the fact that Ana had continued to walk, unfazed by the princess’s sudden show of aggression.
“Those to whom that sssssword would be naught but a toothpick,” A second voice sounded this time, not as deep but still masculine and powerful. “Sheathe it, child, and we shall sssssspeak of your journey, hmmm?”
“I will keep my blade drawn, since you seem to have some fear of it, whoever you are…” She answered. She was met with a sigh of resignation.
“She is ssssssstubborn, brother…” The first voice said. “And she does not realise where she sssssstandssss…”
“Princess Vanya!” It was Ana’s voice this time, a voice which was much more solid and real than the other two… was Vanya going mad? She turned to face the Vampire, whose ghostly countenance could be seen through the oak and ebony trunks. “We have arrived at the Chasm.”
As Ana had confirmed, Vanya walked out of the treeline onto the edge of a sheer cliff which dropped vertically into a misty darkness below. Vanya staggered back from the edge, towards a tall elm tree, and closed her eyes for a few seconds. Why was her stomach twisting at this cliff? She had been able to look down over the edge of each Bloodash Oak in this Nation and felt nothing. Why was the Chasm so terrifying?
Because you don’t know what’s at the bottom. The answer came to her as soon as she had thought of the question. Yet another mystery of the Chasms… perhaps the Wyrms knew the answer?
“And we shall not share it with you, child,” That voice once again entered her mind. Vanya opened her eyes, followed immediately by a yelp of fear. Right in front of her face was a large eye, at least as big as her head, with a vertically slit pupil which was ringed by a bright green iris. After a few seconds of inspecting the Elf, the eye withdrew, revealing it to belong to one of the two Wryms who guarded the Glailan Chasm.
The Wyrm was serpentine, with bright green scales. Around its head was a smoothed-back mane of green-yellow feathers, and from the tip of its snout were a pair of whisker-like protrusions which extended back, below its leaf-green eyes. The creature was positioned at one side of a wooden gateway. A gateway which seemed to be naturally grown from gnarled roots and vines from the ground, twisting around each other in a chaotic yet beautiful way. And on the other side, another Wyrm looked at the Elven princess. This one had green-yellow scales, with emerald feathers around its head and yellow eyes. Both of their gazes were intense and immensely intelligent. It made Vanya feel like a fool in comparison.
“Wyrms of the Glailan Chasm,” Ana spoke to them. “I am Baroness Anaret of Ebonstone Fortress. I travelled here two months ago, and explained to you my mission on behalf of Earl Graystone. Accompanying me now is Princess Vanya Llidove, youngest of the Glailan royal family and summoned by the Earl for a matter of grave importance. May we cross the Chasm?”
“You may crossss,” The green-scaled Wyrm spoke, yet his mouth did not move. Vanya could tell which one was speaking due to the head movements they made, which seemed to be for the benefit of the mortals they encountered than for anything else. The green one had the deeper voice. “We have not met the Princessssss before, however.”
“And she is very interessssting,” The second Wyrm moved his head down and forward, closer to Vanya. “You are incredibly resentful of your father, it would sssssseem. You do not appreciate his… protection?”
“Protection?” Vanya scoffed. “Smothering is more like it. I could hardly do anything without him trying to ensure nothing could hurt me… or insult me… or do anything to me besides pamper and compliment me. How was I supposed to live at all when I wasn’t allowed to do anything?”
“Have you conssssidered Prince Devir’s perssssspective?” The second Wyrm spoke. “After all, you are the lassssst remainder of his late wife… her final gift to him. Should he not try to protect that which he loves mosssst?”
“He would do better to honour her memory.” Vanya answered, her voice growing quieter. “I want some freedom. I don’t want to be shackled and bound to his preferences. So what if I get cut from time to time? Who cares if I break a bone every now and then? At least I’ll be experiencing life, and not just reading about it in books.”
“And thissss is why you fell for the Elf called Orthan?” The first Wyrm spoke once again, his tone knowing and investigatory. At the mention of Orthan’s name, Vanya raised her head and widened her eyes.
“Orthan?” She breathed. She immediately felt the spark of hope light up in her chest again, a spark which had been quenched completely by her father’s announcement of his exile. All of a sudden, answering Graystone’s summons didn’t seem quite as pointless as it once had. “Have you seen him? Did he come this way? Is he okay, is he safe? Did he say where he was headed?”
“He isssss alive, Princesssss Vanya,” The second Wyrm confirmed. “He hasssss travelled into Opraria. Beyond that, we are unable to sssssay. You may find him in your travels… although where you are going, I doubt you will meet.”
“No, I have to see him,” Vanya argued, taking a step forward. “I need to, he’s the only thing I have which is good and worth fighting for!”
“The only thing?” The first Wyrm raised an eyebrow. “Is your Nation not worth fighting for? Your Traotan Empire? Your family?”
“That’s not…” Vanya trailed off into a sigh. “Orthan is the only one who’s ever treated me like a normal woman. Every other Elf I’ve ever met has only seen my title, nothing more. They have given me nothing but frustration and empty platitudes, so I will repay them in kind.” She looked at the two Wyrms in turn, her confidence growing and her resolve solidifying. “I have researched a great deal of the history of the Traotan Empires and Kingdoms, and I have my doubts as to whether the Empire is worth it. We have peace now, of course, but how long will it be until some lord makes a play for the throne, or the Dwarves attempt another of their Purges? No, my loyalty does not lie with the Traotan Empire.
“And my family?” She shook her head. “My grandfather spends all his time on his throne, my father holds the noose around my throat, and I have not seen my brother in a century and a half. I find myself caring less and less for my family as time goes by. No, my first loyalty is to Orthan, and the love we share.”
“And yet, you are ansssswering a sssssummons from one Earl Graysssstone,” The second Wyrm reminded her. “Will you ssssseek your love before or after visiting him?”
“I…” Vanya paused, uncertainty creeping in once more. What could she do to find Orthan? The Wyrms had no idea where he was in Opraria, or else they wouldn’t tell her, and she had not the first idea of where to go once she was in the central Nation. The only person who could know… would be Earl Graystone.
“Earl Graystone may be able to get information on the whereabouts of Orthan Hiwolf,” Ana spoke once more. She had been silent up until now, with her hands clasped before her stomach and standing with all the grace and elegance of an Oprarian princess. She looked extraordinarily out of place on the edge of the Chasm, with the Glailan forest behind her.
“Then… I will visit the Earl first,” Vanya decided after a few moments of deliberation. “If he can give me information on where I can find Orthan, then my answering his summons will be justified and worthwhile. Otherwise, I’ll…”
She’ll what? Ask everybody in Traotos if they’ve seen a handsome, black-haired Elf? Find where exiled Elves were usually sent to, even though she stupidly hadn’t thought to ask her family? Opraria was far too big of a place to find one person in any reasonable amount of time.
“Your conviction, although shaky at firssssst, is now clear,” The first Wyrm stated. “You may crosssssss this Chasm and enter Opraria.” With a pair of breathy hisses, the two serpentine giants retreated over the cliff and into the darkness below, while Ana stepped forward towards the archway which marked the beginning of the bridge.
Upon passing through the misty bridge and entering the green plains of Opraria, Vanya distracted herself by buying horses at the first village they came to whilst Ana slept, and they travelled on horseback ever since. Aside from that first village, they avoided settlements as they travelled West, at Ana’s request. They had enough provisions to last two months at the least and since Ana had no need to eat food, Vanya was able to ration what they had and by her own reckoning, she could last an extra week before she would have to venture into a town to buy more food. Their destination was a four-month journey, however, according to Ana. So, Vanya got a map while she was in town to make sure their path could take them near a town when they needed to restock.
As she finished putting her packed tent into her saddlebag, Vanya decided that she would ask Ana about how one could become a Vampire. Ana had gifted Vanya several books on Vampirism and after skimming through all of them, she had found no mention of how a Vampire became what it would be. Of course, she knew the old superstitions and tales; a bite to the neck, inhaling the breath of a Vampire, being born over running water on the third New Moon of a month… those all sounded highly unlikely, however. Vanya wanted to know the truth.
The moon was nearly a quarter of the way in the sky when Ana finally emerged from her black tent, graceful as always. Her crimson hair was tied in a braid which fell over her shoulder, and she wore a deep red riding blouse with riding trousers and boots. She packed up her own tent, then swung up onto her horse with all the skill and smoothness of a spectre. Her pale skin almost seemed to reflect the moonlight, making her stand out in the darkness of night.
“You have a question, your highness?” Ana asked suddenly as Vanya climbed onto her own horse. She smiled slightly as she turned to face the Elf and urged her horse to walk forward. “I’ve lived long enough to recognise faces, my dear. I know you have a question, so feel free to ask it. If it’s within my knowledge, I’ll do my best to answer it,”
“In Glaila, it is seen as the height of rudeness to claim to know somebody’s intentions,” Vanya replied, narrowing her eyes. She was still unsure of what to think of Ana. On one hand, she had been more than accommodating and even friendly. But on the other hand… Vanya could not shake the unsettling feeling that she felt whenever she was around the Vampire. Her own scarce, and likely false, knowledge on Vampires made her reluctant to take any risks near Ana, be they physical or vocal.
“Ah, my apologies,” Ana said with a short bow of her head. “I assure you it will not happen again. Now, what was your question?”
Vanya waited several moments, thinking of the right words and phrasing, before voicing her curiosity.
“I notice that in the books you lent me, they all shirk a topic,” She said. “Even in the chapters on vampire physiology, there is no mention of how one becomes a vampire. Is it even possible to become a Vampire, or is it only superstition and old wife’s tales?”
As soon as she heard the question, Ana’s body tensed up and she drew in a sharp breath, closing her eyes and clenching them shut. After a few seconds, she relaxed.
“I anticipated you would wonder about this eventually,” She forced a smile, but her voice was strained. She opened her black eyes and looked over at Vanya. “Unfortunately, I cannot answer your question in full, but I will answer what I can.
“Yes, it is possible for somebody to become a Vampire. The thing is, it’s an extremely personal process for both parties. That is all I’ll say on the subject. Please…” She raised her hand when Vanya began to argue. “You would not ask a married couple about their lives behind closed doors, and you certainly would not ask them how their child was born. I will not answer your question any further. You may ask somebody at Ebonstone Fortress if you wish, and they may be more forthcoming than I. But you will not get the answers you seek from me,”
Once again, Vanya was about to push the subject but stopped herself. After a few seconds, she closed her mouth slowly and turned her head to the dark horizon, retreating into her own thoughts. A myriad of ideas began to swim around her mind, from simple neck biting to the trade of a soul. Why would it be so difficult for Ana to talk about? And what sort of process could warrant that level of secrecy? Was it different for every Vampire, or was it constant across them all? Was it painful? Quick? Did the new Vampire have to be willing or could it be forceful?
All of these questions and more whirled around Vanya’s head for the rest of the night, and even while they pitched their tents in the shadow of a small forest just before dawn. She had already decided that she would follow Ana’s advice and ask somebody at the Fortress, but she had a feeling that they would have the same reaction as her companion… assuming that they did not kill her upon her entrance, of course.
In the middle of the day, Vanya was sleeping restlessly. In her mind, she was back home, except something was different. She was sitting at the dining table, and her family was there. Her grandfather, High Prince Lurain. Her father, Prince Devir. Even her older brother, Laryan. As if that was not enough, Orthan was sitting right beside her, too. Everybody was eating, laughing, and talking, including Vanya herself. She herself was wearing armour, mostly leather with metal covering her vital parts. The type of armour she had seen worn by warriors of old.
It was all perfect, just how she had imagined her life could be in the future. It was all exactly how she had imagined it. Exactly how she had dreamed. So why did it feel so wrong?
Alarm bells went off in Vanya’s mind, warning her that this was not real. It was false, an illusion, but not one that she should have naturally experienced. This was a fantasy, one she had thought of in her waking hours, but had never once dreamt about. It took a great amount of effort, but she finally managed to stop laughing and look at everybody at the table. They were at the dining room in the Llidove Manor, with Frolain refilling their wine glasses whenever they got less than half full. Vanya kept her eyes fixed on Frolain, frowning in concern as she tilted her head. Something seemed… off about the butler. He was avoiding her gaze, occasionally laughing with one of the men at the table or offering a comment.
The conversation seemed nonsensical. Orthan would say something about a new map, then her father would respond with a comment about cockerels, and everybody would laugh as if it were a joke.
By now, Vanya was not laughing along with them, but they did not seem to notice. They continued to laugh and joke, getting along perfectly well. Finally, the princess stood up and looked around at the dining room.
“Whoever is controlling this vision, reveal yourself!” She barked. Her voice was irritated. Several seconds passed with no response, save for the chatter at the dining table. Finally, the speech faded into silence, and when Vanya looked at the table again, it was empty. Frolain had gone, too, as had all of the utensils and dishes, all of the food and drink.
After a few more seconds of silence, footsteps sounded from the doorway behind Vanya. She spun to see a young human woman standing there. She wore simple yet pretty clothing, and her blonde hair was tied up in a braided crown to reveal her tanned face. She had an innocent look to her, and her eyes betrayed her youthful naivety. Vanya narrowed her eyes at the girl.
“Who are you?” She asked, ready to fight if needed.
“I’m sorry if I scared you,” The girl said. Her voice was high-pitched, but not annoyingly so. “I just saw that these things were what made you happy, so I tried to help you. I haven’t really had any proper training in it, so I’ve just been improvising…” She shrugged and smiled apologetically.
“I don’t believe you,” Vanya replied flatly. “You entered my mind while I was asleep, and took control of my dreams. Why?”
“Because I can’t help the other ones…” The girl’s face fell and she became sorrowful. “One is out of my reach, and the other keeps getting pulled back, I don’t know why,” Her voice broke a bit and she walked over to the dining table, passing Vanya and sitting down a few chairs away. “I’ve tried to help him twice now. The first time, I couldn’t even get into his mind. The second time, I could only watch him struggle. I couldn’t help at all…” She put her elbows on the table and held her head in her hands.
Despite her suspicion, Vanya could hear the genuine sadness and self-disappointment in the girl’s voice. On top of that, the sorrow seemed to permeate into the dreamscape around them, causing the furniture and their surroundings to droop somewhat. She hesitated before sitting down again.
“Who is the other one?” She asked, her voice gentler than before. The girl looked up at her, eyes slightly red, and wiped tears from them.
“I don’t know,” She replied, then sniffed. “I don’t even know who you are. All I know is that you feel angry at somebody, and you feel like you’re being forced into a life that you don’t want, but there is no escape from it…” She shook her head and forced a laugh. “I’m so sorry, madam, I’ve been far too rude. My name is Bethany, Bethany Stronar!”
Vanya looked at Bethany strangely, slightly unnerved by the sudden change in attitude.
“I’m Vanya,” The princess replied, although she kept her surname and title to herself.
“That’s a lovely name, Vanya!” The human grinned. “Again, I am so sorry if I upset you at all. I don’t really know what I’m able to do and what I can’t do, so I’m kind of testing myself. One of the others is never really within my reach, and the other…” She trailed off and shook her head.
“What do you mean?” Vanya asked. “Are you a Magi?”
“I think so, yes,” Bethany nodded. “In fact, just last week I had a—”
Bethany was suddenly cut off as Vanya’s eyes opened. She sat upright, bathed in darkness as she breathed heavily. Something was wrong… there was a reason she had awakened so abruptly, and it was not because of her dream. If it even was a dream…
She was looking around for several seconds before she looked towards the opening of her tent. Her eyes widened, her blood ran cold, and she let out, for the first time in her life, a shriek of pure terror.
Something had poked its head into the tent. Pale skin pulled tight over a humanoid skull, with eyes and mouth sewn shut in a clearly hurried and sloppy manner. The nose was sliced off, and scars embellished its bald head. At the sound of her shriek, the… thing… shook its head violently, moving its head in ways that would be impossible without tearing muscle and ligaments. While any normal person would try to make a noise through the threads sealing their lips, this monster simply remained silent. The creature then began to rise… and rise… and rise. By the time it was standing straight, the tent covered its horrific head like a veil. Vanya had to crane her neck back to see the head of the thing, it was so impossibly tall.
The princess was still rooted to the spot, her scream having died down to a terrified whimper. Her eyes were wide as the moon and unable to move away from the terrible creature before her. Its body was impossibly out of proportion, and when it raised a hand to lift the tent canvas from its head, Vanya noticed that its arm bent at two points, giving it two elbows. What was more, its fingers seemed to have at least five knuckles each, and each hand had a different number of fingers. It gripped the fabric with a surprising delicacy that temporarily caught Vanya off guard.
When it lifted the green veil, however, Vanya’s fear returned as she beheld the grotesque façade that the thing had. Its hand slowly lowered down to its knee – at least, where Vanya assumed its knee was – and dropped the tent. Its head then slowly turned and titled downwards, until its face was pointed directly towards Vanya. There was a moment of silence, in which the only sound Vanya could hear was the sound of her own heart pounding like a loud bass drum.
Then, the monster’s hand raised slowly, and it began to reach out towards Vanya. Its seven fingers were stretched towards her, and although it seemed to move with the speed of a lame tortoise, it was still too fast for Vanya’s liking. Like a bolt of lightning striking her, she finally regained control of her body and leapt to her feet, turning around and sprinting towards the black tent that housed Ana.
Suddenly, Ana’s tent flap was flung open and the Vampire stepped out, looking up at the towering monstrosity with fear colouring every inch of her pale face.
“Vanya…” She breathed, holding out a hand. “Plans have changed. You need to get onto my back.”
“What!?” Vanya yelped, her gaze finally turning to Ana. “Are you insane? What will that accomplish?”
“Have you not read the books I gave you?” Ana snapped. “Just get on before that thing touches us!”
With just a moment of hesitation, compounded by the fact that the monster had begun to slowly stretch its grotesque hand out towards them, Vanya made her decision. She grabbed Ana’s hand and jumped onto her back, much like a small child would do with their parent.
“Don’t let go,” Was all Ana said before the world suddenly became a blur, and Vanya clenched her eyes shut against the sudden hurricane that assaulted her face. The wind was so strong that she couldn’t even breathe, and it was all she could do to keep her arms and legs wrapped around Ana and cling like a frightened child.
The howling gale only lasted for about ten seconds before it stopped abruptly, and Vanya felt her companion’s arms let go of her legs. It took a few more seconds for the princess to step off and open her eyes.
They were no longer on the edge of a small forest. They were on solid rock, surrounded on all sides by towering and jagged peaks. At first, she thought they had teleported, but then her readings came back to her. Vampires could travel at speeds which would normally be impossible. Had Ana just done that? And if so, how far had they gone? Where were they now?
She turned to ask Ana, and rather than look at the Vampire, her eyes were drawn upwards to what, she now realised, was the source of the letter which had summoned her.
Ebonstone Fortress.
The title of ‘fortress’ was certainly an understatement. The structure was literally built out of the face of a mountain. The brick walls of a square, military fortress morphed into sharp towers and turrets of a gothic palace, then the entire structure moved backwards into the mountainside. There were hundreds of windows of every imaginable shape and size, and they all glowed with flickering candlelight.
The entryway was a massive arch protected by a dark metal portcullis, positioned on the other end of a natural stone bridge. Below the bridge was a distant drop, at the bottom of which could barely be seen an uncountable amount of sharp and jagged rock spikes and shards, all perfectly shaped by nature to pierce flesh and shred bone.
The entryway itself was in a rough arch shape, but the edge of it was made of three arches; two arches on either side, with a larger one forming the centre. There were no supporting columns. Above the archway were two large, arched windows. Inside each window stood a sentry, unmoving and unwavering. The entranceway almost looked like a horrific beast with two fangs, maw open wide to swallow any trespassers whole.
“Princess… come here…” A dry, hoarse voice sounded. Vanya was pulled away from her entrancement of the structure and looked towards Ana. The Vampire was on one knee, breathing heavily, and swaying dangerously. Vanya immediately hurried over and helped her up.
“What’s wrong?” She asked.
“Bring me… to the gate…” Ana said. She sounded as if she had not drunk anything in a month. “Show your… summons… and take me inside…” Her loose red hair acted as a veil around her head, covering her face from Vanya’s vision.
Although tempted to press her with more questions, she followed Ana’s instructions and with some difficulty, helped her towards the gate. Vanya then pulled the letter from Earl Graystone from her pocket and, unsure of what else to do, raised it towards the two lookout posts on either side of the archway. For several seconds, nothing happened, and Vanya began to feel nervous that she had done something wrong.
After nearly a minute, the sound of metal screeching against metal finally sounded, and the portcullis began to slowly and heavily raise. At the same time, what appeared to be a solid rock wall behind the portcullis revealed itself to be a hidden door, and that door swung open. Out of the darkened portal walked a tall, pale man with long, crimson hair and deep black eyes. He had a short-cropped beard and high cheekbones, with a sharp nose and a very commanding demeanour. He wore a dark red coat over a black suit, complete with a bright red ascot and a silver medallion around his neck. He walked with his hands behind his back, his eyes fixed on Ana the whole time.
“Oh, my dear Baroness…” He whispered. His voice was so smooth and hypnotising, it immediately put Vanya at ease. The man’s gloved hand moved forward and cupped Ana’s cheek. “Darryt will take you to the dining hall to replenish your strength, Baroness Anaret,” The Vampire said, then stood straight and turned his black gaze to Vanya.
“And you must be Princess Vanya Llidove,” He said. “I apologise for not greeting you in a proper manner. I’m sure you can understand, given the situation. Please, while Baroness Anaret recovers her energy, allow me to show you to my study. We can talk there. You can recount to me why you have arrived several months ahead of schedule, and I will explain to you why I sent you those summons.”