Riven Wight

Mystic Orphanage (Aristocles and Siaya Dragalorn)

Hilda nodded thoughtfully at Ferdinand’s plan. “I’ve been saving up for a while for a rainy day. Perhaps today is the right one to use it.”
Thayva looked up as the lizardman spoke to her. “That it will,” Thayva answered Ferdinand, her lips tight. Realizing she had used a stiff tone, Thayva sighed and tried to give him a smile. “Thanks for the encouragement.” She looked back to the ever growing stack of cleaning supplies as a couple other of the staff deposited other items. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?”

* * *

Nick, his face flushed, returned to his feet as Belle finally came down the ladder. The way Laya kept glancing at him made him feel self-conscious. He leaned almost lazily against the railing, trying to not show that he had noticed.
Belle cleared her throat awkwardly. “We’d best get going, then.” She adjusted her satchel on her shoulder and hurried into the orphanage, her cheeks reddening when she glanced to Aurelian as she passed.

* * *

Valera sat on a fallen tree, her back and head resting against another that had grown in its wake, as if in a tribute to its fallen comrade. She looked for all the world to be asleep, her long blond hair falling around her face. She stirred slightly, and a look of pain crossed her petite features. She had done all she could to patch herself up after their last encounter with that strange, robed man and a couple of his men, but there was only so much she could do without alerting her sister, Seaella. Using magic was an option, but that would have used precious energy, energy she needed to use to cast protective spells over the two of them to prevent being followed. She was sure she had at least a couple broken ribs, and, from the feel of it, she would need to change out the bandages she had used to staunch the bleeding from a shallow stab wound, but that would need to wait until Seaella was asleep. She still had yet to figure out how the knight’s blade had slid through her armor, leaving only what looked like a scratch as evidence. An enchanted weapon, she supposed.
How long had it been? A day? A week? The time all blurred into one jumbled mess of chaos, sorrow, and terror.
Every breath felt like fire. Every twitch sent a stab of pain through her body. She wanted to stop for the day, to stay here in the caress of the forest and sleep for an eternity, to sleep away the nightmare that had become her life. But they had to go on. For their sake and all the people of the land, they had to carry onward, no matter what that meant.
A whisper erupted among the trees, interrupting her muddled thoughts. It was not quite words, exactly, but the young elf understood them all the same. Seaella was near.
Valera took as deep a breath as she dared, clenched her teeth, and sat upright, banishing the look of agony that twisted her face the moment she heard the soft padding of Seaella hurrying through the forest.
The girl, an elf of about nine years of age, looked like a spritely flame hopping through the trees, a bow slung over her back. Her cloak, which she had never bothered to switch out no matter how many times their father had warned her that it was far too lurid for the forest, only added to the effect as it flared out around her ankles like a trail of fabric flames.
“I filled the waterskin!” Seaella brandished a waterskin as she approached Valera, the circles beneath her eyes only a shade lighter than her sister’s. Though a haunted look swam in her golden-red eyes, she put on a small, cheerful smile. “It’s going to storm tonight.”
Valera nodded, her expression stoical. “The trees are looking forward to it.” She stood, maintaining her calm and hiding the agony the action sent through her using all her willpower. “They suspect it will be here after nightfall. We’ll need to find shelter before it hits.” She grabbed her staff from where she had leaned it against the tree, and the stone at its top began to swirl with a mix of silver and green.
Subconsciously reaching to make sure the pouch at her belt still held its small, precious cargo, Valera began trudging through the forest. She leaned as much weight as she could on her staff without arousing suspicion from her sister, her pace slow as Seaella bounded beside her.

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“Yeah.” Izzy glanced down at herself. “And I’ve got about as general of an understanding as you can get.” Her head perked up slightly as Cerasus apparently recalled having something to add.
Izzy watched him go after yet again dropping an important piece of information on her as if he had just told a child that the grass was green. Cerasus’ doubt that Thurdge would try that was far from reassuring. He had also doubted that the three would still be working together. She made a mental note to make sure to watch out for that.
Yet, the confidence he seemed to have in her abilities despite having failed the first time made her wonder. After all, he did not gain a reputation for nothing, and he seemed quite positive that she possessed a similar prowess.
Still, walking into a fight with only the hope that she could win based on that would be idiotic. With the exit open, Izzy stepped out into the glorious night. She quickly checked that she still had the twenty dollars she had taken from her wallet and shoved in her jacket pocket just in case, then headed to the only bookstore in town that stayed open after dark, keeping to the shadows of the deserted side streets as much as possible.

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So, Izzy thought at the number he gave, he’s at least that old. The nonchalance with which he threw it out there made it easy to believe he was older.
“I figured he wasn’t human,” she answered him, irritation in her voice at him apparently thinking otherwise. “‘Vampire’ just wasn’t at the top of my list of possibilities.” She glanced out to the quickly rising night behind Cerasus. A sense of comfort from the encroaching darkness settled over her, promising a solace she had first fully noticed nearly a day past. “I don’t suppose you’d have any tips for fighting him, then, would you, or is it something you’d rather I just figure out on my own?” she finished with a soft snort.

Mystic Orphanage (Aristocles and Siaya Dragalorn)

Uh... Oh boy. I'm horrible at that kind of thing. What exactly do they have that is draining their financial supplies? I know you have the necessities of food and clothing, the staff, things like candles and oil for lamps courtesy of our general setting, cleaning supplies...

Oh my gosh. That's great. xD

Hmm. I keep seeing "in 1 hr" whenever I post. Is that happening to you at all, or is it just me?

Mystic Orphanage (Aristocles and Siaya Dragalorn)

“They’re such self-sacrificing people,” Hilda said with a nod in agreement. “I wish there was more we could do for them.” They rounded a corner and entered the disaster zone of a dining hall. Thayva stood by the pile of cleaning supplies sorting and, Hilda assumed, counting a pile of rags.

* * *

Laya seemed to collect herself first, and started down the ladder. Kia followed a couple moments later, with Belle lingering on the rooftop.
Kia jumped from the ladder to the balcony a few rungs up.
“You’ve got yourself a deal.” Kia held out a hand for Aurelian to shake as she moved away from the ladder to give the other two girls enough room to come down. “So,” she cast a mischievous grin to her female friends, “how long were you guys down here, anyway?”

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Izzy turned to face Riley, suppressing a groan at having to wait. She had already forgotten that most people would be in bed right now. Before either she or Cerasus could agree or argue against him, a light snoring rose from his now slumbering body.
Izzy stared enviously at him for a moment for his ability to fall asleep so fast, then turned to leave once more. But, again, her departure was interrupted. Despite Cerasus' almost cordial tone, her hands balled into fists at being called, “my servant.”
She spun around toward him, fury twisting her face. “My name is Izzy, and I am not--” Her hiss cut short, and she sucked in a breath, her eyes wide as she realized her slip. She cast a worried glance to Riley, who’s snoring still echoed in the room, hoping he was really asleep.
She looked to the floor near her feet as Cerasus continued speaking to her, the fear of what her mistake may cost her all but extinguishing her enmity toward being called his servant.
“Trust me. It’s a lot,” was all she muttered at his comment about not knowing how great the amount Riley had requested.
Izzy watched Cerasus leave the room Riley had chosen as the perfect sleeping place, then followed his lead slowly out into the halls. She paused as she passed an old restroom, the signs beside either of the doors no more than a ghostly imprint of what they had once been. Either the school district decided to keep them, or someone had really wanted a restroom sign.
Realizing that she had not so much as looked at her reflection in a window since waking up in this abandoned, decrepit place, she entered the restroom that looked like it had once been labeled for girls. Though the long mirror at one side of the room was covered with grime, riddled with cracks, and had something green that Izzy preferred to not dwell on growing on it in places, they still reflected the stalls opposite them.
She hesitated a moment before entering the view of the mirror. Did she even have a reflection now?
Only one way to find out. Bracing herself for what she would--or would not--see reflected back at her, Izzy stepped slowly in front of the mirror. She released a breath she had not realized she held when she saw her own hazy, yellowed self moving in the mirror.
Despite the sorry state of the mirror, she could still tell that her attire made it look like she fallen into a ditch and been left there for a couple days. Though she still looked like herself, she had more of an athlete’s leanness to her, as if she had been training for a triathlon instead of laying on a hard school floor for three days. Noticing her irises looked more red than green, she stepped closer to the mirror to be sure it was not an illusion of the aged glass. While their color change was not entirely a surprise, she had expected them to at least be gold, like Cerasus’. She took the opportunity to bare the four fangs she had felt in her mouth and ran her tongue carefully over them.
Three days ago, she had laughed at the notion of vampires. Now, she was staring at herself as one. She leaned her weight on the counter and looked into the discolored sink as if it might hold a simple answer to all her problems, from Cerasus to having to face the hunters. Alas, it offered her only a gentle moan in protest against her leaning on it.
Izzy closed her eyes and inhaled slowly, the stench of the bathroom making her want to gag. She exhaled then left, hurrying through the school to the freshness of the outdoors. Being outside always helped her think. She still had a few hours until sunup, and had no intention of wasting them inside.
She stayed fairly close to the school, not wanting to risk going past the barrier Riley had put up, and kept a close watch on both the time and the horizon.

* * *

For the next two days, Izzy avoided Cerasus as much as she could. If Riley had heard her name, he gave no indication. Her impatience with the wait for Riley to bring word their plan was to go into the next phase drove her to the brink of insanity. But, at least, she noticed she had not had the insatiable desire to drink blood, as she had fearfully antcipated. That was one thing she was pleased that media had gotten wrong.
The night following when the deal was struck, she dared to enter the town, ever wary of any sign of the hunters. She stayed long enough to sneak into her home and grab a couple changes of clothes and other necessities. She had also taken the precaution of hiding her usual camping gear. She was careful to not stay too long, and lingered in random places before and after her visit hoping it would throw off anyone trying to follow her and not give away her family’s location. She even stopped by the park where he had first met Cerasus, where she found her walking stick concealed in the tall weeds.
At long last, Riley brought the news that he had managed to negotiate with the hunters. She was ecstatic to finally be getting somewhere, to be capable of taking a step further. Until she heard who she would have to go against first.
If she was going to make it out of this, she needed to know more about fighting than what little she had gleaned from the spats she got in with her brothers and from being dragged to their tournaments. With the date for her match undecided and the need to improve her knowledge on combat techniques, she donned the spare camouflage hoodie she had grabbed the previous night, and headed to the school’s exit as the moon began its ascent, releasing her from the prison the sun locked her in.
She glanced over her shoulder as she went, vaguely wondering where Cerasus was. When she looked forward again, she found him standing in the doorway, and she came to a halt. Before she could ask him to move, he spoke.
“He’s a... what?” Izzy blinked at him. “But he hunts vampires, and with other vampire hunters!”

They Live Among Us (Vampiricchild x Siaya)

“When,” Jevan’s own consciousness shimmered into existence in the room Illyad had constructed within the realm between conscious and subconscious, his arms crossed over his chest and a sly expression on his tan face, “have I ever kept you waiting, Illyad?”
Jevan glanced to the pot of tea and spare cup that sat on the table before his brother. His nose rose up at it. “I still don’t understand your affinity for that stuff,” he said languidly. “It has no kick.” He stepped leisurely toward the table as a tray with a bar bottle filled with his favorite brand of brandy and a single glass fizzled into existence--or at least as close to existence as you got in this in-between place.
He stopped at the table, paying the rest of the surroundings little regard as he poured himself a glass of his drink of choice. With brandy in hand, he pulled out the secondary chair. He sat and placed his feet on the table, crossing them at the ankles. He took a long, slow drink of the contents in his glass.
“Now that’s a drink.” He looked to Illyad with an exaggerated sense of interest. “It’s been a while. You look thinner than I remember.” He took another swig of his brandy, almost draining the cup. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, little brother?” he finished derisively.

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“That’s why I’ll be there.” Izzy looked to Cerasus, wondering herself how Riley planned to negotiate with those three. "Monsters" was certainly a good fit for them. “Or at least somewhere nearby. You heard him. He doesn’t deal in causes or results. That part’s up to us.” She glanced to Riley almost for confirmation of the statement.
Her shoulders slumped when he said that he did not have much of a plan, but at least now she hoped his head would be in it. Three was better than two. Her brow rose at the thought of him simply asking the hunters for what he wanted.
“The game?” she said with Cerasus, only with a wary tone. “What game is that?”
Her eyes narrowed at how easy he made the task of separating the three sound, but she nodded her agreement all the same, not wanting to risk losing his aid. She exhaled when he said it would take a risk on their parts, as if it had not done so already. She opened her mouth to say she had expected nothing less with the way the night had gone so far, but it snapped closed and formed into a snarl when Cerasus did it for her. His action and being called his servant made a rage seethe in her stomach.
“Excuse me?” she hissed through clenched teeth, but Riley continued the conversation with his reply to Cerasus. It took a couple sentences before she turned her glare from him to look to Riley as he spoke.
“Good,” she growled. “Then what’re we waiting for?” She started toward the exit, eager to put more distance between her and Cerasus than that which the middle of the room to the corner provided. “We have hunters to go track.”

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“I’ll take any help at this point,” Izzy said exasperatedly.
She gawked at him when he named his price. “Fifteen...” Her mouth hung open slightly. She had a grand twenty-dollars to her name at the moment, and that was in her wallet back home in her dresser. But her options were slim. Cerasus was of no help in his current state, so she could either go it alone and, in all likelihood, lose her life, or agree to his terms and lose a lot less.
She cleared her throat before giving her answer. “O-okay.” She ran her fingers through the front part of her hair. “But I have no idea when I’ll have that, so you know.” She took a slow breath. “Where do you suggest we start, then?”

Mystic Orphanage (Aristocles and Siaya Dragalorn)

Gotchya. :-)

Huh. Sounds interesting! I'll have to look it up sometime. "Shrine of the Silver Monkey." Sounds like something from Indiana Jones!