Private Tales Bloody Battlements

[Iren Brightmane]

So far Roul's idea of coming to the settlement hadn't been terrible. Sure, it ended up with him in the dungeons, because of his moonlight proclivities but at the very least he had his own comfortable suite. A much needed change of scenery after the nonsense at the tavern, the grueling journey to the Eye of Naspar, the eventual boat trip and the storm in the middle of said trip.

He sat on the edge of the fortress' battlement. Feet dangling in the air... absently kicking them up slightly to feel the air swish against his boots. It was a risky behavior, but strictly speaking fall damage couldn't kill him.

Didn't mean it wouldn't hurt however.

He sipped from his cup again. It was marred with blood and a servant was waiting in the wings, some distance away, to offer his arm whenever Iren was in need of a refill. These servants weren't as hardy and powerful as the Bloodletters that he had enthralled. But sadly none of them could be found right now. Too busy killing his vampiric brethren on different continents to assist him here in this matter.

Then again, now he didn't need to behave as much either, which was a benefit.

Truly this was a life that Iren could get used to.

Elide

 

[Elide]

The moon cast an eerie glow over the fortress.

Even the full moon, a sight some considered beautiful, loomed over like a malevolent, watchful eyes. Its haunting glow illuminated the fortress, silver light spilling down the jagged spires and crumbling stone walls. It was a ghastly brilliance, while the air hung heavily with the scent of decay and echoes of screams from both nowhere and everywhere.

A silhouette against the night sky, there was a figure atop the battlement leering past it. Past everything and out towards the violent waves that had destroyed his ship.

Elide had left the dungeons a while ago, quickly and silently. The grace of an assassin had allowed her to sneak past inquisitive guards, through the servants staircases hidden in walls, and up to where she watched Iren from afar for entirely too long.

Of all the creatures involved in this new deal with the Wardens, the vampire seemed to have adapted quite well. Far better than his two imprisoned brothers, she supposed.

His ancient form seemed to meld seamlessly into both the shadows and the moonlit sky, gleaming with an unquenchable thirst. Perhaps, she thought, if he proved to be useful and loyal then he would find it quenched in his new home.

She had not bothered to conceal herself in she shadows that followed her like a pack of dogs for it was only the two of them and a young servant she was more than capable of disabling.

"Are you faring well?" She approached him, leaning over the stone wall, littered with scars of countless battles from a time long since forgotten.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Elide

If Iren was disturbed by her sudden appearance he did not let it shine.

His mood was nostalgic. Perhaps because Nicomo was in the dungeon as well. He had not liked this, but Autolycus had been resolute. If they wished to satisfy the Lord of this group they had to dance their music at least to start with. And while most of these mortals Iren had little to no respect for... Autolycus seemingly knew what he was doing.

"As well as can be expected, my Lady." He murmured over his shoulder. He'd shift slightly to the side to create space for her to sit down if she wished to.

"And you?"

His eyes flicked over to her form. He breathed in and the beat of her heart thrummed between his ears. Oh, yes, he recognized this heartbeat. Similar to her father's in some ways. She had been there when they first arrived, in the background, watching.

It seemed the girl had more free rein in this place than most of them.

 

[Elide]

Unlike the immediate hostility that the werewolf was greeted with, Elide bit her tongue and remained what she considered to be pleasant while speaking to the vampire. Though, she could not say she would treat him the same had he been chained up like his friend.

She accepted the spot beside him and found herself staring out at the sea. Cold and unending, how some had once described her own power. She did not see the appeal of it.

"I have lived my whole life here. I am treated well." She lied, the echoing words of other Wardens never left her mind, threats to send her back to the pits she was born in to live with the mother she'd killed four years ago in the rampage that took countless lives. Countless to her. Ravenna sneered and spat in her face when she had asked for the number, horrified at the destruction she was capable of. "Feared by even my own guards. There are few things I am denied."

She chuckled, the sound distant and hollow.

"Is there anything you have found lacking? Anything you are not finding up to your standards?" She beckoned the servant that thought she couldn't see him through her burning white eyes. Pulling his arm forward and slicing with a weapon she kept concealed, she held the bleeding arm over Iren's cup.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Elide

Iren was not in the business of judging people's living situations, but by the way she was telling it she was the veritable princess of the keep. However... there was something off about the way she was telling it. Maybe it was her heartbeat not being into the story or the way her temperature fluctuating in the same way it does to liars.

Either way it told Iren that her tale was either untruthful or at the bare minimum incomplete.

"Oh, lucky you." He murmurs absently. "Then again, being feared by everyone is an exhausting experience, darling." Continued absently as he sipped from his cup, emptying it out right in time for Elide to illustrate just how obedient the servants were to her.

A soft tut tut there and twapping the servant's arm.

"That's plenty, thank you, I try to not be too greedy with these poor creatures." She asked him if he lacked anything and he immediately wondered what she wished for.

"Can I help you with something, Princess of the Towers?"

 

[Elide]

She couldn't hide the faintest tinge of pink in her cheeks when he called her darling. It was as if it were the only words of affection one had uttered in the direction of the woman who could be more cruel than death itself. "Indeed." She did agree with him, but did not continue further with whatever thoughts occupied her mind at the moment.

Elide obeyed him when his cup was full and she tossed the pale man aside, shooing him away. "These poor creatures are expendable. If you require them, they are yours. As you may recall, I am to keep you alive." The edges of her lips twisted upward, trying to force them into a genuine smile. Something she had not done in many, many years.

"Hm?" She found herself looking up at him, studying the way the moonlight fell into the contours and crevices of his skin. He looked more like a corpse she'd raised than a sentient man. A curious brow raised at the title he had given her. "I haven't come for help, vampire. You and I happened to have chosen the same spot to enjoy the quiet." Another lie, an easy one to spot given her distaste for the water.

Of course she had not needed anything when she ascended through the fortress in a bewildered state after her encounter with the werewolf. No, of course not. She was simply following orders. Orders from Ravenna. If one of them so much as took a shit in the fortress without her knowing, it very well may be her in the dungeons.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Elide

He sipped deeply from the cup. It was rare to be offered an unlimited amount of vitae like this and Iren did not complain. She'd notice it too, the effect it had on him. From pale skin and crimson eyes... to his body slowly awakening again from the slumber of torpor. Skin becoming flushed, flesh warm, eyes reduced to a more pleasant amber shine.

An interesting transformation to be sure.

"Oh, are you? That seems like a cruel task, my Lady." The vampire purred warmly. "After all... I am already dead." Teasing her lightly as he looked out onto the sea once more.

"What a splendid coincidence then."

No, Iren certainly didn't believe her.

There was not a soul on this earth that did not want something. Especially the kind of soul that walks up to a man and offers him any and all what he requires. They always came with strings attached. But he would not press her on this.

If she wished something she'd come out with it herself.

"Tell me of these Wardens, darling. What is it they actually are doing here? What do they guard?" Maybe the Lord had already explained this to him.

Truth to be told the initial proceedings were a blur to the half-starved vampire.

 

[Elide]

She almost cackled at his comment, caught entirely off guard that the immortal being had a sense of humor. But she restrained herself. He was technically no less a prisoner than his friends. "I suppose I had best keep you dead then." She mused.

And then she agreed with him. It had been a splendid coincidence. She knew that she would find the vampire here, but she had not predicted the warmth of his presence. Like calls to like as death calls to the dead. Perhaps they were more similar than not.

The werewolf was angry and violent and excited the part of her that was anger and violence. It was nothing short of a miracle that both were unscathed, for the most part, when she left the dungeons.

The vampire was almost comforting to sit near.

Until he broached the subject of the Wardens.

She stiffened slightly, her head turning to expose the wraithlike features once again. "What a vague question." She crossed her arms. "The Wardens guard Cerak At'Thul. Has this not been explained to you?" Her question was rhetorical. She had been there when they agreed to cut a deal with the wardens in exchange for their lives. "There is no ulterior motive. We provide and they pay." She shrugged. If there had been some other motive for the Wardens, Elide had been kept in the dark.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

A long slow gaze was aimed at Elide which had exactly the following to say:

I do not believe you.​

"In my experience whenever a group of people, be that the living, the undead, the near-dead or any other kind of existing state, come together and proudly proclaim they are protecting something..." Iren shrugged there absently as his gaze left her once more.

"...there always is an ulterior motive. Even if one is not readily available on the surface."

This was all delivered with a dispassionate tone and certainly no judgement. It was the way of the world for the powerful to take what they wished with no regard for the weak.

Iren could not hold it against these Wardens. It would be the peak of hypocrisy when he himself regularly drained the weak of their livelihood to feed himself. "I suppose it doesn't matter. As long as you do not assume me to become some hero of the fragile ones, darling."

Another sip from his cup.

"One such as I has been ordained to be the villain in any story. At all times. Such is simply the way of things."

 

[Elide]

The gaze did not go unnoticed, for although it was painfully obvious, the shadows whispered in her ears. Horrible things they would whisper in the ears of the willing, but for Elide they strayed from their nature of deceit to speak nothing but the truth. It was peculiar, indeed, for them to disregard their own magic and act as Elide's eyes and ears. Perhaps they respected her. Perhaps they feared something far worse in her soul.

"I did not come up here to give you a history lesson, vampire." She rolled her eyes. "But if you are in need of a reminder, this place was a shithole before Alarak rediscovered its crumbling remains. I suppose he was the one to see its potential and take advantage of it." She shrugged. "It was his work that made it profitable. I'm sure you are keen to the numerous guards stationed throughout the island."

She looked up at him for a sign that he understood. "I have heard the island has a rather poor reputation. It saddens me, really. For all we do is ensure everything runs smoothly beyond the fortress." Her voice, once again, took on the feigned sweetness as if a voice like honey could cover such blatant lies.

"Quite frankly, I don't care what you do to bide your time here as long as you keep out of my way." Her arms fell back to her sides and she shut her eyes, head leaning back to bask in the moonlight. For a while after, she was silent, an invitation for him to ask more.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

He enjoyed how prickly she was.

Clearly Elide was not fully confident in her own abilities... and her powers. A creature that was confident didn't need the bluster and aggression. They'd know they'd be obeyed and respected with just a look. Just a flick of a finger or a gesture.

That was okay however.

She was young... perhaps it would come to her still.

"Oh, yes." Iren agreed in a suitably honeyed tone of himself. "Truly the Wardens are the saviors of this island and deserve all their authority and respect." His expression was innocent, his tone double and sweet. It was only in the eyes that Elide saw the truth.

That he didn't buy it... and what's more that he didn't truly care either.

A blood-drinking vampire was hardly one who would demand pure goodness from his companions.

"Mm.. as you wish... darling." Whispered keen as he finally got up from the rampart. Maybe she would not understand it immediately. "I will stay out of the princess' way then." As he moved to leave her behind... and quite physically keep out of her way.

Sipping from his cup as he tugged for the servant to follow him.

 

[Elide]

There was a smugness that hung around her like a cloak when he agreed to her rule. A rule that had not been one of the Wardens, but one of Elide's. One she simply wondered if he would follow. She would answer no more questions about the Wardens, for any more detail was unnecessary. If he wished for more, he could seek out Ravenna or, gods forbid, Alarak himself. Perhaps they would flay him and tan the hide so that one day Elide may own him as a pair of immortal leather shoes.

She frowned as he took her words as dismissal. She had not permitted him to leave. Her voice, abandoned of all the sweetness now burned like ice seemed to be all too close to his ears. Relayed by the shadows, she spoke. "How have you managed to keep your wits about you?" Her head turned. She looked him over, noticing how that poor servants blood made him look almost human.

"Your friends do not seem to be adapting well to the changes here." Her stare remained fixed. "Are you not afraid of me? Of the Wardens? Tell me, what is it you wish to find here?"

 

[Iren Brightmane]

He paused mid-stride... but did not respond to her immediately.

Instead Iren sipped from his cup. Enjoying the taste of blood, the way it invigorated him, even if it wasn't exactly the premium liquid that it could be. He had drained too many mages, too many elves, too many other kind of magical creatures to pretend like a half-starved servant was anything similar to the ichor that Iren could truly have.

Still... no point in staring into a gifted horse's mouth.

"Friends..." He purred softly. This wasn't the first time he was accused of having friends. More often now than ever before in his life. But that wasn't something Elide needed to know about. "The poor men and women that have shipwrecked with me here have not lived for very long, Princess."

Iren shrugged.

"I merely see this as yet another pit stop on my way to something new. They see it as a complete revolution of their life." One more sip... and oh, the bottom of the cup had been reached already.

Her second question tickled him however. Calm and amber eyes studied her, shifting slightly to take her in at the backdrop of the moon. "Fear... only kills the mind, my sweet." Purred lightly as he placed the cup in the stretched-out hand of the servant. As if the poor half-drained human knew exactly when to extend his hand like a puppet.

"I have none. When I look upon you?" Iren shrugged. "I see a potentially interesting conversational partner."

Nothing more.

 

[Elide]

She watched the servant, swaying as he reached for his blade and dug it into his own flesh. Some of the blood made it into the cup. The rest…spilled onto the stone below him before he, too, landed face first in the growing puddle. Not dead, fortunately, but he was certainly tapped out for the time being. She was pleased, watching his torso rise and fall. She would not have to explain a dead servant to her aunt and risk losing a finger today.

In some strange way, Elide did not despise the vampire as she had his acquaintances. Perhaps it was some ancient bond they shared, but she did believe he would be the only one of the shipmates strong enough to leave Cerak. Perhaps even the only one standing here on the battlement that would experience a world beyond these islands.

An interesting conversational partner, indeed.

Hurried footsteps would alert the pair to the other servants carrying off the young one’s body. Elide beckoned the third in their group to remain and, like the previous servant, she made quick work of it all. A careful drag of her dagger and his cup would be full again. She stared for a moment, pondering the appeal. Was it the taste or the desire to survive that made his kind so animalistic. She wondered what her own blood would bring him. It was probably like drinking poison, she imagined. Poisonous blood that matched her death plagued soul.

“What is it that brought you here?” Curiouser and curiouser, it wasn’t every day such an array of misfits survived the storms of the ocean.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Elide

Iren could not remember the last time he could have his fill.

When he could start drinking and keep drinking. It wasn't like having food, after all. The moment the blood got into his system it was put to work. He had never tried it but Iren suspected there would never come a moment that he truly felt... sated. There would always be a hunger there in his chest, clawing at him, pushing him towards drinking more.

"Chance." He murmured absently as his hip checked the stone and he leaned there, watching her curiously as he sipped from his now full cup once more.

"We were part of the same adventuring group." It had been a messy adventure to be sure. "We ended up in a storm that destroyed our ship." He shrugged lightly as he studied her. "This place is rather desolate, isn't it? No one wanted to brave the forests filled with monsters and other nonsense."

So they came to this settlement instead.

"And here we are, my sweet. Being treated properly and politely." His thoughts absently went to Roul for a moment. "Well... those of us that can..." His lips curled into a hungry blood-stained smile as Iren watched her warmly. "...behave, yes?"

Another drink.

"How about yourself? You do not seem entirely similar to the other Wardens." Young, less edgy, fearful in her blood... he could smell that from here.

Her heart beating faster than it had to.

Oh, yes, she had little real experience.

 

[Elide]

“Chance?” Elide wanted to snort at such a stupid excuse. “Perhaps chance allowed you another go at life, but unless none of you have read a map in your lives, then I highly doubt you can blame it. There are thousands of islands and yet you lot have managed to wreck at the farthest ones from the continent. Where had you been sailing from?”

Once again, she was asking too many questions for her liking.

His comment about the forests made her pause. Monsters? They were afraid of monsters. Her mouth curved upward, that hint of something far more sinister that lived where her soul should have was showing its teeth. “I find the monsters in the forests compare so little to the ones whose den you all willingly tossed yourselves into.“ And despite every evil thing Elide had done, some days her cruelty seemed like benevolence in comparison to the other Wardens. Her eyes scanned the skies just as the night time breeze struck, tossing her hair back and revealing the perfect porcelain neck that his werewolf companion had so recently threatened to shred.

Her eyes shut again, a dare to the wind, the world, and Iren to push her right off that ledge. “Perhaps it is because I am not the same as the other Wardens.” She was worse, far worse underneath it all. “It was not my choice to be here as it was theirs.”

She should have left it at that, but something pushed her to continue. “I was born…” She gestured beyond the walls towards a slave encampment in the distance. The worst of all of the, she had been told. “My mother was a slave. My father, a Warden.“ Her hatred was not evident on her face, but her tone suggested the strain in their relationship. “I worked in the pits until I was seventeen. Shitty, right? I thought my mother was crazy in her claims that Agravayne was my father. That was what everyone else said. But perhaps that was why no one ever bought me at the auctions. Maybe he was waiting to see if I was like him.” She loosed a sigh, heavy and slow.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

He waved his hand again.

"Darling, do I look like the sort to concern himself with the finer points of cartography and organizing a journey? Please." Said with a snort and a roll of his eyes. "I have people for that." He wasn't entirely sure who had planned out their sea voyage. It could have been the werewolf, but he couldn't quite see him with a captain's hat, a telescope and the map in hand.

The comment about the forest monters was taken in strides. It amused him greatly.

"Oh, truly? I find all of you quite delightful really. I have not had any complaints so far." Iren murmured sweetly with warm eyes to her. If she had voiced the idea of skinning him alive to use his hide for boots it would have barely made him raise his eyebrows.

He had seen worse in his life.

As Elide spoke of her life Iren stepped up to settle again next to her. Watching the slave camps below as she spun her tale. In truth it was good that the girl revealed this to him. 'Princess' had not been a term of endearment no matter the loving tone applied with it.

It had been a mockery for private use.

Predators hardly respected creatures that were given their tools of fight. But it seemed that Elide in reality was a fighter and a survivor. This was something that he could respect.

"You were born in conflict, my sweet." His soft hand settling on her shoulder. Too warm by half for the undead, but all that blood he had been consuming was clearly having an effect. "You struggled, you hurt... and it made you strong."

Again Iren glanced down to the camps.

"There is your past... and here is your today. Who knows what tomorrow will bring, but you are strong and you are fierce. These are the traits that will help you survive... and even thrive." Iren squeezed her shoulder. "Be proud, Princess. The greatest pleasure in life is to seize control of your destiny and to make your own path... you are well on your way towards that."

 

[Elide]

"No, but you do look the sort to ensure someone on the ship knew how to read a map or, at the very least, the stars before embarking on a dangerous journey." Aristocratic prick. She hoped he could read her mind. He could call her princess all he wanted to, but in reality she was more similar to the dragons in all the fairy tales. Vicious and at the mercy of whoever held her chains.

She ignored the honeyed lies he spoke of enjoying the company of the Wardens. And ignored that lingering scent of pity in the air after she finished speaking. The thought of anyone feeling pity for her made her want to vomit. Hatred and fear. People should feel that when they hear her name.

Her shoulders slumped. An uncharacteristically weak posture for Elide. "I killed every single one of them." Her voice had quieted, eyes now narrowing as she stared in the distance. She seemed lost in thought for a while, reliving the memory of the last night spent in the camp.

The Wardens thought it was cruelty that brought her to kill nearly everyone in that camp all those years ago. Agravayne had been seen plenty of times in the pits- picking those he think would sell for more than they were worth keeping in the camps and pulling the pretty women into his bed. He never denied it. And when Elide was born with pointed ears to a human mother, he had given the slavers the order to work her harder. Treat her poorer. Either had the same set of goals: kill the bastard child or push her to her breaking point when she would let the blood of her elven ancestors dominate.

No punishment was too cruel for Elide. And still, she bore the scars of seventeen years of punishment.

When the slaver whispered in her ear and Elide finally cracked, she killed as many as she could. Slavers for what they had done to her. And everyone else so that they may find peace.

But that darkness corrupted her. And she would trade her peace, her kindness, and her soul for theirs if she had the chance again.

"I suppose you are correct." She shook her head, losing the dreamy look and the glazed over eyes. "I owe you for such wisdom."

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Again he saw the shape of her thoughts if not the thoughts themselves.

A shadow named Iren traveled along with her to that doomed day where her potential was unveiled. When she unleashed horror on those that had tormented her and ripped them to shreds with tangible shadows. How terrifying it must have been to be hiding... only to be swallowed whole by the darkness that should have kept you out of view.

Iren licked his lips as he glanced back down to the slave camps.

"We should not judge ourselves on the basis of morality of regular people." Iren finally said into the emptiness left by her last memories. "They attempted to break you... it was only natural of you to respond in kind." His hand squeezed her shoulder softly once more.

"Embrace the demon inside of you, Elide. Or should I say..." And his lips curled into a smirk. "The Dragon inside of you?" Indeed perhaps Iren could read more of her mind than she realized.

But oh when she spoke of debt? Now that was when that smirk turned hungry... wolfish.

"Careful, my darling... debts are serious things... and unlike others I will always accept an offer of owing. My hunger would not have it any other way."

 

[Elide]

Regular people...

The way he spoke those words. Like dirt on his shoe. As if she hadn't been one of the regular people for seventeen years of her pathetic life.

A pointed ear twitched. "Dragon?" She raised a brow, but left a hollow laugh to linger in the air. "There is nothing inside of me." The voice of the self loathing had been replaced by that of the one she normally spoke with. Cold and unyielding. She kept her thoughts silent, but still welcomed him in that strange way he seemed to understand what was unsaid- unimportant for the world and the shadows the hear.

There was nothing left of the Elide who had been a slave, the Elide who had survived those seventeen years. Perhaps it was said to mock her, to upset her enough to bring those deathly powers back out. To prove she could be a useful pet for the Wardens. Elide had no soul, no heart. There was nothing, her aunt said. She had killed them, burning them to ash in her icy fires of death.

It had worked. She was still here.

"Then what is it you wish, vampire?" She waited for him to name his price. "What is it you demand in exchange for speaking to me like a human?" The word human was said and there was a glimmer of something in her eyes. Something so far from the ice cold white eyes full of hatred. As if her elven heritage was the root of her problems.

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Elide

It wasn't like dirt on his shoes.

It was like sheep to the slaughter. In truth it was how Iren viewed the world in general. There was food and there was non-food. Food was any living being that was weak. Non-food... it included his companions to a certain extent.

You wouldn't eat your dog unless you were desperate.

He grabbed Elide by her chin and forced her head up a touch. "Mm, I demand nothing, princess." Iren murmured quietly as he gazed down at her.

"What is it that you can offer me?"

 

[Elide]

His grasp was not expected, nor was the lack of aggression in his doing so as he was met with a wild and wicked look on Elide's face. Curious and cunning, she stared at him. Eyes darting between the mouth that concealed his fangs and eyes ancient enough to match her own.

Her offer was silent at first, gently arching her neck to better expose herself. Only when he did not immediately rip her throat out did she speak.

"Drink." She urged him, arching her neck further. If he was a smart man, he would walk away now. "Your companionship," Friendship, she supposed people more human than her would call it, "That is what I seek. Ears to listen and a soul ancient enough to offer me wisdom. And I will allow you to taste sweet death."

 

[Iren Brightmane]

His head tilted there in moderate surprise.

This was unexpected.

Unexpected but not unwelcome.

"Mm, darling..." And he leaned in there, allowing his lips to run along the vein under her skin. Already Iren could feel the pulse beat into him. Without taking a single bite he could practically feel her heart quickening in her chest... anticipation... fear, maybe all of the above.

"What will you do if I can't stop myself?" Iren whispered softly as he allowed this moment to stretch. It was delicious in that regard.

To deny yourself... over... and over again.

Until you were ready to partake in the joys of ravenous hunger.

"Will you be able to stop me?" Lips moving there, nose brushing into her flesh and breathing out hotly. "Will you be able to stop yourself from wanting more..." Elide probably didn't know it yet... that a vampire's bite could be euphoric bliss.

This was how vampires lured their victims in and kept them enslaved to their will.

 

[Elide]

She shivered, feeling his the warmth of his lips on her skin. His breath molten on her wind-chilled skin. "Perhaps..." She leaned into his touch, begging for him to pierce her flesh and take whatever he wished. "Perhaps I won't stop you at all." There was a laugh, husky and pleading in its tone.

She knew the risk. She had not been educated by book. Stories, rather. Stories were how she learned of the world beyond Cerak. Fearsome dragons, impudent humans, ravenous wolves, and vampires. Lives so long, it was difficult to tell which stories she'd heard would closest align with the man at her neck.

She nudged her neck closer, enough so that his teeth scraped the surface and the black droplets of her blood peeked through.

"I have never wanted for anything, vampire." Her voice was blunt. Breathy, but blunt. "I have never felt pleasure." She paused. "Bring me close to death and help me reach for it."

 

[Iren Brightmane]

Elide

He breathed her in as he grabbed her by the back of her head. His fingers curled into her hair to tighten the grip he held on her.

"Who would I be..." Iren murmured sweetly as he breathed out once more. Again making her experience just how hot his being was currently. All fueled up by subpar blood. It was so tempting... so fucking tempting to drain her right now.

Right here.

Who would tell? He could eat her. Then snap the necks of the two servants... and push them over the ledge. It would be an accident- He blinked and smiled. "...if I didn't help a princess in need?" And without further thought put into it he sunk his teeth into her neck.

At first there would be pain. There was always the grounding effect of pain as sharp teeth broke through skin to get to the vein beneath.

But soon enough Elide would experience the rest. Her body being filled with joy, with light, with pleasure beyond count. A vampire's first weapon was their superior physical capabilities. Their second was their natural aptitude towards charm. The third was the most vicious of all. Any prey that was being eaten had an instinct to get away, to defend themselves and a vampire took even that away from them.

Flooding their body with pure bliss and pleasure until they craved being preyed upon.

Iren gasped as he made his first swallow. He had regular blood, he had magical blood, but this was something else entirely. His eyes shot open, staring into nothing... as he kept feeding.

Ambrosia in copper and crimson form.