Renaissance Le Sang, one of the oldest vampires to still be treading Earth, was inching closer to the Huntress with her hands still splayed in a sort-of surrender. Her sire would surely be turning in his grave if he knew she was succumbing to such human emotions. So irrational, so thoughtless. But she couldn’t help herself. Ren craved to be closer to this woman, to follow this magnetic pull tugging at her very being.

There [b]was[/b] something different about this one. This lone Huntress, brave and honourable. This powerful woman so willing to fight such a skewed battle. She’d sensed her from so far, hadn’t she? She’d tossed a bottle of Holy Water yet still hadn’t drawn a crossbow, had she? There had been hundreds of opportunities for the two of them to launch into a fight to the death… And yet here they both stood. In the middle of Belle View beneath the moonlight. Both very much still alive. 

[b]“L-Lyselle…”[/b]

The croak of the Huntresses name held more power than with which she uttered it. A bolt of energy surged through Ren’s body and she took a sharp intake of breath. Her voice. Her name. Familiarity overcame the vampire and her perfectly preened brows knitted together with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. 

[i]“Ll-y-sss-e-llll-e”[/i] the ancient vampiress repeated, enunciating every letter. It was a name she felt she’d heard before, buried at the very bottom of her subconscious. Her tongue knew it as she said it, her lips hummed like greeting a long-lost-friend. Renaissance nodded slowly, feigning understanding but disguising the sheer bafflement she felt. Still, Ren was keeping her eyes levelled with the Huntress’ as her heeled boots took slow, tiny steps. Onward and onward. The distance between them had begun to close and another chilling breeze churned the streets of Belle View. The air lifted Ren’s locks from her back, tossing them around her shoulders and framing her angular face. The vampire’s pupils were no longer dilated, revealing their true colour; A chartreuse with flecks of lilac like watercolour. 

A thought had crossed Lyselle’s mind, one that echoed in the chamber of Ren’s own psyche. As Lyselle’s face told the story of her inner voice, Ren continued to watch her earnestly. This moment, right here, was completely and utterly unknown to her. Unchartered seas, forgotten territory. Never, in all her existence, had the Aged Vampire experienced this. She wasn’t even sure what “this” was…
But watching the thoughts that plagued the Huntress, the ones written all over her face, was like watching a secret broadcast. The memories Lyselle was analysing inwardly caused Ren to feel something comparable to extreme empathy. Lyselle the Huntress was thinking about something and clearly felt so strongly about it that the emotions were being sent down this tether between the two of them. A tether, a lifeline almost, that began with Lyselle and ended with Renaissance. Whatever extraordinary bond was forming between these ultimate foes was gaining form by the second. The longer they shared space together, the stronger it was becoming. Therefore, as Lyselle began to recall her own memories of Rhyland and the emotions attached to them, Ren was feeling a reflection of them. Like looking into a body of water, something was being refracted back at the vampire. All she had to do was tune in to understand.

It felt like a lifetime that Lyselle considered her own thoughts, but she was quick to smooth her expression back to neutral. Ren cocked her head, angling her gaze to deepen the inquisition. Her eyes aglow with curiosity, she lowered her hands to her sides and proceeded with exaggerated, slow movements towards the Vampire Slayer.

[i]“It was you…”[/i] Ren purred, her voice like silk. [i]“I felt one of my kin pass over tonight… It was your doing?”[/i] There was no malice in Ren’s tone, no anger to be seen. Just pure, unadulterated curiosity at what was unfolding. Time seemed to slow down, each second feeling drawn out and stretched until there was no knowing whether it had been minutes or hours that they’d been sharing this intense gaze. 

Lyselle still gripped the shortsword of blessed silver in her hand, her knuckles white with the intensity of her grasp. Ren gestured to it with a soft point of her finger.

[i]“Lower that,”[/i] she crooned [i]“We won’t spill one another’s blood tonight.”[/i]

A dog barked in the distance and the blanket of cloud passed by the moon, letting it shine once more. A beam of moonlight spliced through the skies and cast its glimmer over Lyselle and Renaissance. There was a mere few metres between the two of them now and Ren could feel the force of the Repulsion Ward. 

Magic like this was a strange sensation, one that could be felt mainly in the gut. The ward pushed back at Ren, like an invisible energetic force field. So she stopped walking. Remained still, unmoving. The two continued to analyse one another, watching the others every move. Ren found herself, once again, watching the rise and fall of Lyselle’s chest. She could hear her heart beating now, a little quicker than average, and if it were something physical the pair could see, she was sure they’d witness a string tied from Lyselle’s heart to the empty cavity where Ren’s once was.