[b]“The Vigil.”[/b]

As soon as it had left Lyselle’s lips and floated out into the air before them, Renaissance Le Sang swiped the razor sharp talon across her forearm and watched her dark, thick blood ooze in response. The Ancient had already begun her hurried enchantment, her voice slithering into that serpentine hiss effortlessly. Like someone bilingual flitting between languages, Ren switched to the chant she knew so well. Hurried syllables hissed, intonations rushed to form. This Blood Magic needed to take ahold, and quickly.

[b]“I can sense Delwyn… a couple of the newer recruits and…”[/b]
Her hand tightened around Ren’s, a subtle reassurance.
[b]“One of the Masters. There are seven of them… it’s Lady Seraphine Holt. She’s strict—even among the Vigil—and she has a reputation as a hunter…”[/b]
Ren squeezed back in acknowledgement, continuing to repeat her chosen spell. She could feel the Blood Magic winding and twisting through her veins as it took form, lapping up the Vampire blood that had been offered as sacrifice. Blood Magic felt like fever, hot and fast through the body, disorientating if not carried out by a seasoned caster. Thanks to her years of undead life, Renaissance was confident that the spell would take. She could feel, in the way it left her body with fierce determination, that she’d done enough to influence the outcome. 

This Blood Magic was not widely used in battle often. Many didn’t see the benefit of casting this particular spell. But Ren knew human nature, she knew the twists and turns of battle and what really influenced a fights outcome were emotions. Even the most skewered matches, with one far more powerful than another, could be won should there be an opening of opportunity. And what could drive a wedge in battle? Create an opportunity where those less likely to have won could strike? Emotions. So this enchantment that Ren had uttered so hastily under her breath, hand gripping on to her beautiful Huntress whilst her blood trickled down her forearm in sacramental sacrifice, would heighten these Human’s emotions.

The spell would take hold regardless of the emotions presented to it. The affected would feel each and every emotion within them tenfold. So, as Renaissance Le Sang watched the Vigil approach with visible but restricted disdain, she assessed each of her enemies in quick succession. 

Delwyn, twisted with rage, would soon feel his fury transform and mutate into an uncontrollable implosion of the senses. That hardened expression, his furrowed brow and twisted lips, would crush into unbridled wrath. And what was the effect of anger on battle? Well, it added a ferocity that would certainly strengthen him for a time, but uncontrollable rage made fighters clumsy. Anger replaces logic. It blocks brain receptors responsible for clever calculation. This Blood Magic intended for the hardened Hunter to become clumsy in his vengeful state. 

Then, the newborn recruit. Visibly youthful and unscathed by battles past, Ren’s fangs immediately dropped into view upon laying eyes on him. She could smell his apprehension, those widened eyes giving away his fear. Once the Blood Magic found him, he’d feel petrified. His nerves would shake his bones, fear gripping at his heart and squeezing for good measure. A fearful fighter will likely flee or fumble. Ren hoped for both. Her primal, animalistic desires wished for the latter. She enjoyed a chase. 

Next to him was an entirely forgettable woman, perhaps a sight more experienced than the young man. She was poised for battle and seemed more readied, but it was clear she would be following the lead of her superiors. The Blood Magic would find her dependence on instruction and leadership, it would murk her ability to think independently. That need for obedience and compliance would absorb her, render her incapable of thinking for herself. A fighter depending entirely on command would be slow to act instinctively, the enchantment would be sure to further lessen her ability to fight alone.

Finally, the most complex case, the Master. Renaissance could sense her gravitas before she even spoke. Power recognises power and Ren knew she would be the hardest to befall. 
[b]“We’re going to have to be very careful, Lady Renaissance,”[/b] Lyselle’s voice felt muffled, far away. Ren was focused on finalising the enchantment. Due to the haste with which it had been cast, it wasn’t proving strong enough to corrupt all 4 of the Vigil members. The Master’s mind was too well protected for this spell. Ren struggled to see her achilles heel beneath the ironclad wall of strength the Hunter had built around her mind and self. So the Ancient Vampire accepted she’d have to leave the Vigil Leader untouched for now, rounding off the spell like garnishing a dish. 

As the four Vigil members assembled opposite them, outnumbering Ren and Lys 2:1, the Blood Magic dissipated into the air around them. The Ancient Vampire’s breathing was steady but at a marginally quickened pace. She was relieved that she’d managed to cast before the inevitable battle began. She wondered what this would be doing to her Human love, how it would feel to be faced with her ‘family.’ It was so close to her departure, Lyselle had barely been away from the Vigil a day. Would being faced with them all here and now change her mind? Would laying eyes on the Master awaken her to the folly of the events unfolded? Renaissance felt her body click into the predatory mode she knew so well and a warning growl vibrated from her chest. 

[b]“Lyselle… that’s enough toying around with the dead. Or—don’t tell me you let that ‘thing’ dominate you. You didn’t, did you? If you did, we’ll be doing mental drills for the next month.”[/b]

The Master spoke with a cool, cold steadiness. Renaissance hissed in response to the disrespect. 

[i]‘Or—don’t tell me you let that ‘thing’ dominate you.‘[/i]

The sentence echoed like a taunt in Ren’s mind. Her body went rigid with an irritation she could barely control. The words reverberated in the Ancient Vampire’s body like a gnarly reminder. She’d take great pleasure in ripping that sullied tongue from the Master Hunter’s mouth.