[center][h1][color=#B5A642][b]Dragan Meszaros[/b][/color][/h1][/center]

As his companions bickered over the fate of the thrall, Dragan murmured quietly in prayer. The familiar practice, in life and in death, centered him. Ichor saw fit to reverse his fate after what should have been his true death, and for that, he would be forever grateful. To say nothing of his centuries of service in her name already, of course. As the vampire lord finished his prayer, a sensation bid him to look up. 

A red light came from the doorway leading to the cathedral yard's balcony. A sign of the Goddess's favor, perhaps? Dragan stood, placing his helm back onto his head as he looked to Ilena and Luna. 

[color=#B5A642][b]"Enough."[/b][/color] His voice rumbled as he gestured up towards the balcony door. [color=#B5A642][b]"I agree with Ilena. For leal service, we ought to reward the thrall with the fate she wishes for herself. Should she want to continue to serve, we will allow it. Should she desire the peace of the grave, we ought to allow her to make that choice."[/b][/color] He stared Luna down unflinchingly. Of course the bloody siren would choose to be obstinate now and disregard a loyal servant's choices for her own wants. 

[color=#B5A642][b]"In the meantime, it seems we are beckoned. Join me if you wish, or continue to debate over the thrall."[/b][/color] With his piece said, Dragan leapt up toward the balcony, extending a hand to crack the door open and see what the source of the crimson glow was.