The war drums are beating, banners raised high. Now the world marches as the gears of Armageddon turn. Once more would the earth be bathed in blood. It started small of course, as all flames did, rekindled and resparked by a return of the most famous vampire of all. There he beckoned, and those who answered his call rose like maggots burrowing out of a corpse. Such insects cared not for the stability that was for years, the game of shadows so cleverly manipulated by the oldest of sires. Now they would be an infestation, tipping the fine-tuned balance of power and forcing the vampire race to step into the spotlight. And how the spotlight burns, for they were creatures of the dark. The eldest among them formed a council, a formal gentleman's club for the most powerful of their kind, to which a long-standing agreement made between the old-timers made it possible to prevent such wars from breaking out and destroying what worlds they have made.

The invitations would find their way to the hands of the invitees. They always have, and always would. For the rules of a council meeting were simple. Those who could rightfully attend were either the sires of their kind, or the most powerful representative in such an event a sire was unable to attend or passed on such an occasion. The latter, rather than the former was Bedivere's right to attend as he burned the message with cold fury. Once night fell upon the day of the meet, the magic gathering of the greatest vampires in all the world would begin, each summoned to make his or her voice known, to take a stance and decide the future of the world in relative peace. They shall be the judges of humanity, and they alone have such right, no lesser vampire should decide unless they wished to usurp such a seat. And to do so was unwise, for old relationships bore tension, and even the bitterest of rivals must convene the call unless they wish to omit themselves from deciding the fate of the world and destroy any chance of political pull they would have gained.

Yes, for the council meets in what short hours that it does, and by sunrise, they will be gone. For The ancient rules creed that no invited vampire is to attack another invited vampire for the duration of the council which lasted until sunrise. Then once outside the boundaries of the designated spot, anyone was fair game for the others. To kill an old rival, or a dissident opponent who failed to support your side. A purge and culling, often guaranteed which is why some old bloods preferred to send their delegates in lieu of arriving themselves or stationing back up outside to receive them.

But yes, it was time as Bedivere finished his painting. A white canvas upon which blood was painted. The angular lines of red to form the shape of an open casket, but the line of blood that flowed down from its silhouette dripped off the painting. And there in floating above the subject of his work, three simple words that shall make this the perfect gift for the returned youngling: 'Kukri or Bowie?'

---

Oh Mithias, how are you faring with your newest fanboy? A rather mindless servant who, longed for you and obeyed your every whim? What went through his mind right now? Other than thoughts of you? How he threw himself at your command, waiting on ever word that drizzled out of mouth to serenade him in orders? How he rushed to grab the car, how he pumped for you, how he did whatever was asked. There was no will, no spark, no remembrance to eat but only to serve. 

Yet his sire had bade him to eat. Reminding him that he was indeed human. Enthralled and bound to a vampire, and yet still human. And being human required several functions to still occur. Sleep, eating, drinking, the works that keep the living alive. What an existence was this then? To waste away without the commands of another being. To fall sickened with an undying devotion.

"I've polished up your cars Master," Lucan's voice piped up as his arms wrapped around Mithias from behind. A rather queer embrace, although perhaps it was akin to a child hugging a parent from behind and asking for his next task. "Is there anything else you'd like me to do?"