Biara flicked her blade
once, the gore on it splattering the withered grass beneath her shoes.
She stepped carefully over the bodies of her foes, checking her
surroundings, her face still flushed with the excitement of combat. The
gloomy, dead woods had given way to a clearing filled with gravestones,
and it was there that she had been attacked by the now defeated Blood
Thralls. The entire region around Popolion was filled with such sites;
areas where the Vampir reigned and their thralls stood guard over their
tombs and sleeping places.
Of course, now they had begun to attack the living, and the citizens of Popolion had grown weary of having people going missing on a regular basis. And so the call had been sent out; a call that Biara was only too eager to answer.
Across the rows of crooked old gravestones her silver-blue eyes caught the slightest hint of movement. Her deadly blades came up into a guard position as she tilted her horned head, staring into the floating fog around the cemetery, looking for signs of another foe. With so many thralls in one location, she suspected that she'd stumbled across a place of power amongst the Vampir.
The Castanic had little time to wait before her senses were proven correct. The mist a little distance ahead of her curled away, almost as if by design, revealing a man standing amongst the stones. Her eyes locked with his, the blue of his gaze somehow drawing her own eyes to him. Time seemed to slow as she made a serious mistake and stared into those hypnotic orbs.
He was beautiful of course. Perhaps once an elf in life, although it was hard to tell from her distance. His tall, lithe figure glided closer as she stared, the moonlight glinting from his bare chest and flowing blonde hair. His movements were efficient, wasting almost no energy and making not a sound as he drew nearer, his gaze still locked with hers. In the back of her mind, his voice almost seemed to whisper to her, speaking soothing words of comfort as she continued to feast on the sight of him.
And then he was beside her, leaning towards her. Within she felt a surge of warmth as his hand brushed her shoulder, her pulse beginning to pound in her temples and a thrill running through her body. Dimly Biara heard a dull clatter as her swords slipped from nerveless fingers and fell into the dirt of the cemetery, and then even that was forgotten as the Vampir whispered in her ear.
"Any why do they send you here to fight? Why do they risk such beauty amongst the ugliness of combat," his voice purred. His lips were inches from one of her heavily studded ears, the sound of his words like a siren song. She shivered again as he reached up and brushed some of her fiery locks back. "So lovely. Too lovely to risk losing. Too lovely to allow to fall in battle, or to decay, don't you think?"
Frozen, she didn't move as he stepped closer, the lures of the Vampir almost impossible to resist. She could feel her heart racing in her chest as he ran his fingers along one cheek. His other hand gently took hers, lifting it to his chest as he leaned even closer. The contact sent a surge of thrill through her, and now she could almost hear her heart pounding away, the song of her blood a symphony that she wished would never end.
"I can make sure that never happens," he cooed at her, tilting her head at an angle with a gentle motion.
Biara shivered again, her hand running across his chest, resting where his heart should be, powerless to stop the creature. And then an odd thought crossed her mind as her fingers transmitted the tactile sense of touching him. Beyond the coldness of his flesh, beyond the tantalizing shape of his body, there was nothing. No heart beat, no pulse, no life, no blood flow.
The song would end when he drained her blood. There would be only silence forevermore.
The lust he inspired, the desire and pounding of pulse shifted subtly, became what had been there all along. She felt it surge through her like the crack of a whip. Felt its power, as she had always felt it, the same lure that drove her on with ever adventure, the same pulsing, racing NEED that sent her on adventure after adventure, time and again regardless of risk to herself.
It was not lust, it was BLOODlust.
Even as his fangs dove for her neck she was already moving. It was as natural as breathing to her. Her head tilted and the horns on her head became deadly weapons that threatened to gouge his face. She heard a hiss in her ear as he realized his spell was broken, but it meant nothing to her as her body surged forward and down.
Hands pressed into the soil of the cemetery's desecrated ground as she performed a forward handspring, her fingers slipping under the hilts of her swords as she pushed herself into the air. She could feel the passage of air against her legs as his body narrowly missed colliding with hers and she avoided an attack he'd launched, and then she was airborne, somersaulting and landing on her feet, her blades in her hands once more.
She whirled to face him, only to find him gone. Her own speed as supernatural as his, she whirled again and forced him to leap back as her blades slashed the air where he would have been. He scowled at her and faded, reappearing forty yards away amongst the tombs.
"It is a shame that you deny the gift I could offer you," his voice echoed, all power of enchantment gone from it now. "Even so, your blood will be useful for my thralls. Eliminate her my minions."
He casually waved a hand, turning to walk away. From amongst the crypts and gravestones howls echoed as more thralls poured from the mists, charging at Biara from all sides and creating a barrier between her and the Vampir. She grinned, in her element now. Her shoes dug into the soil and she dashed forward, her blades slashing down one and then another blood thrall as she cleared a path to her objective; a large crypt with a stone statue of an angel on it.
Her steel shoes clicked as they contacted the stone of the crypt, launching her higher and then again as they contacted the head of the angel, and then she was airborne. Time seemed to slow as she sailed through the air, over the howling, surprised blood thralls. Above her, her swords glittered with a deadly shine as she raised them above her head, her body perfectly arched to bring them into alignment with her target.
And then she descended.
The Vampir never realized how fast she was. He underestimated her strength utterly. He certainly never expected her to fight past his thralls or circumvent them. And so when her blade punched through his back and out of his chest, neatly bisecting his heart, his face had a look of complete surprise, even as her rather small weight drove him to the ground brutally.
Biara rose, Vampir blood splattered on her pale pink skin, the howls of the thralls echoing behind her as they mourned the loss of their beloved master. She looked down at the creature, which still struggled on her blade before twisting her arm once, carving its heart out as she withdrew the blade. She flicked the weapon once, letting the blood splatter the ground before looking up at the cowering thralls amongst the tombs, her smile widening.
In her head, in her heart, she still heard the song of blood. It was her own song, her own racing pulse every time she went into combat. The siren song that would forever drive her on, that would make every other song fade to the background. She brought her blades up, shoes digging into the soil again as she charged.
For the blood, for the thrill, for Castanica.
Of course, now they had begun to attack the living, and the citizens of Popolion had grown weary of having people going missing on a regular basis. And so the call had been sent out; a call that Biara was only too eager to answer.
Across the rows of crooked old gravestones her silver-blue eyes caught the slightest hint of movement. Her deadly blades came up into a guard position as she tilted her horned head, staring into the floating fog around the cemetery, looking for signs of another foe. With so many thralls in one location, she suspected that she'd stumbled across a place of power amongst the Vampir.
The Castanic had little time to wait before her senses were proven correct. The mist a little distance ahead of her curled away, almost as if by design, revealing a man standing amongst the stones. Her eyes locked with his, the blue of his gaze somehow drawing her own eyes to him. Time seemed to slow as she made a serious mistake and stared into those hypnotic orbs.
He was beautiful of course. Perhaps once an elf in life, although it was hard to tell from her distance. His tall, lithe figure glided closer as she stared, the moonlight glinting from his bare chest and flowing blonde hair. His movements were efficient, wasting almost no energy and making not a sound as he drew nearer, his gaze still locked with hers. In the back of her mind, his voice almost seemed to whisper to her, speaking soothing words of comfort as she continued to feast on the sight of him.
And then he was beside her, leaning towards her. Within she felt a surge of warmth as his hand brushed her shoulder, her pulse beginning to pound in her temples and a thrill running through her body. Dimly Biara heard a dull clatter as her swords slipped from nerveless fingers and fell into the dirt of the cemetery, and then even that was forgotten as the Vampir whispered in her ear.
"Any why do they send you here to fight? Why do they risk such beauty amongst the ugliness of combat," his voice purred. His lips were inches from one of her heavily studded ears, the sound of his words like a siren song. She shivered again as he reached up and brushed some of her fiery locks back. "So lovely. Too lovely to risk losing. Too lovely to allow to fall in battle, or to decay, don't you think?"
Frozen, she didn't move as he stepped closer, the lures of the Vampir almost impossible to resist. She could feel her heart racing in her chest as he ran his fingers along one cheek. His other hand gently took hers, lifting it to his chest as he leaned even closer. The contact sent a surge of thrill through her, and now she could almost hear her heart pounding away, the song of her blood a symphony that she wished would never end.
"I can make sure that never happens," he cooed at her, tilting her head at an angle with a gentle motion.
Biara shivered again, her hand running across his chest, resting where his heart should be, powerless to stop the creature. And then an odd thought crossed her mind as her fingers transmitted the tactile sense of touching him. Beyond the coldness of his flesh, beyond the tantalizing shape of his body, there was nothing. No heart beat, no pulse, no life, no blood flow.
The song would end when he drained her blood. There would be only silence forevermore.
The lust he inspired, the desire and pounding of pulse shifted subtly, became what had been there all along. She felt it surge through her like the crack of a whip. Felt its power, as she had always felt it, the same lure that drove her on with ever adventure, the same pulsing, racing NEED that sent her on adventure after adventure, time and again regardless of risk to herself.
It was not lust, it was BLOODlust.
Even as his fangs dove for her neck she was already moving. It was as natural as breathing to her. Her head tilted and the horns on her head became deadly weapons that threatened to gouge his face. She heard a hiss in her ear as he realized his spell was broken, but it meant nothing to her as her body surged forward and down.
Hands pressed into the soil of the cemetery's desecrated ground as she performed a forward handspring, her fingers slipping under the hilts of her swords as she pushed herself into the air. She could feel the passage of air against her legs as his body narrowly missed colliding with hers and she avoided an attack he'd launched, and then she was airborne, somersaulting and landing on her feet, her blades in her hands once more.
She whirled to face him, only to find him gone. Her own speed as supernatural as his, she whirled again and forced him to leap back as her blades slashed the air where he would have been. He scowled at her and faded, reappearing forty yards away amongst the tombs.
"It is a shame that you deny the gift I could offer you," his voice echoed, all power of enchantment gone from it now. "Even so, your blood will be useful for my thralls. Eliminate her my minions."
He casually waved a hand, turning to walk away. From amongst the crypts and gravestones howls echoed as more thralls poured from the mists, charging at Biara from all sides and creating a barrier between her and the Vampir. She grinned, in her element now. Her shoes dug into the soil and she dashed forward, her blades slashing down one and then another blood thrall as she cleared a path to her objective; a large crypt with a stone statue of an angel on it.
Her steel shoes clicked as they contacted the stone of the crypt, launching her higher and then again as they contacted the head of the angel, and then she was airborne. Time seemed to slow as she sailed through the air, over the howling, surprised blood thralls. Above her, her swords glittered with a deadly shine as she raised them above her head, her body perfectly arched to bring them into alignment with her target.
And then she descended.
The Vampir never realized how fast she was. He underestimated her strength utterly. He certainly never expected her to fight past his thralls or circumvent them. And so when her blade punched through his back and out of his chest, neatly bisecting his heart, his face had a look of complete surprise, even as her rather small weight drove him to the ground brutally.
Biara rose, Vampir blood splattered on her pale pink skin, the howls of the thralls echoing behind her as they mourned the loss of their beloved master. She looked down at the creature, which still struggled on her blade before twisting her arm once, carving its heart out as she withdrew the blade. She flicked the weapon once, letting the blood splatter the ground before looking up at the cowering thralls amongst the tombs, her smile widening.
In her head, in her heart, she still heard the song of blood. It was her own song, her own racing pulse every time she went into combat. The siren song that would forever drive her on, that would make every other song fade to the background. She brought her blades up, shoes digging into the soil again as she charged.
For the blood, for the thrill, for Castanica.
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