On the Prowl [Sal]

[glorilyss]

Slanting rays of setting sun were just beginning to filter through the outlines of the multi-storied buildings crowding the street, casting thick shadows and laying golden bars of illumination along the street. Crowds of city-dwellers milled along the boulevard, stopping at the small shops and stalls that lined the broad avenue before moving along, swirling and eddying like a river of humanity. Most of the shops were beginning the process of closing down for the night, packing away the things that hadn't sold, tidying up the storefronts and filing trinkets into boxes.

The young woman watched everything from her place on a bench, the quiet tones of a small fountain at her back simultaneously soothing to the ear and jarringly loud to her still-new senses. The overwhelming scent of humanity surrounded her, burning in the back of her throat in a realization of thirst. The woman pulled the dark cloak that she wore closer around her, the hood concealing her fair hair, hazel eyes flicking out across the crowds with the rabid hunger of a predator.

Cybele could feel the heat of the setting sun against her back. It didn't cause her physical pain, but the discomfort from the heat was a constant reminder of her new life. Even though the sunlight was too bright for her eyes, she came out here often, grasping at the remainders of her old life. True, she had lived her life in Connlaoth, but a large city was the same across the globe. To be honest, Cybele didn't know if she came out here to cling to her old life - or simply to force herself to confront her new one.

[Salzem]

Aeizith hated crowds. This was never really a secret among those who knew him as he often was that one guy who pulled his hood over his face to block the images of thousands of faces scanning his, taking a piece of information that, if they could put them together, would know all they needed about him. People scared him and he made no attempt to hide this fact. So it seemed idiotic that he would purposely expose himself to a human city where people were packed in like rats and louder than lions, but the little frost dragon had some kind of reasonable purpose for putting himself in his social anxiety. While it wasn't really to better himself as most people would assume, Aeizith needed to stock up on human food as he was running desperately low. He knew it wasn't going to cut it for long. Animal meats, breads, even wines were sustaining him less and less as time went on... He craved for a human neck to snack on, something live and bleeding and squirming for him to bite into... and everyone looked so sweet... He shook his head in some vain attempt to silence these thoughts, but he knew they were coming from his stomach. He had already been ignoring his cravings for days and become of his negligence, his body would no longer be silenced. Unfortunately, despite having pockets full of the coins these people used for trade, Aeizith had arrived just a little too late, with most shops shut down and the rest in the process of it. As if voicing his disappointment for him, the dragon's stomach roared in protest and, with a frustrated frown, he sat himself down, leaning his back up against the small fountain in the center of the sleeping town. As the claw of darkness engulfed the sky and the little ice dragon didn't notice the black-cloaked figure a few meters away.

[glorilyss]

Cybele watched the encroaching darkness that slowly crept along the sky, staining the edges to the east with a rich purple that imperceptibly deepened to indigo. The first stars began to show their faces near the horizon, brilliant blue-white-yellow dots sparkling and twinkling in the diffuse light of the atmosphere, winking like age-old friends as more came out to play. It was her favorite time of night, and always had been, even before her newfound distaste for bright sunlight. As late afternoon melted into evening, the woman was once again reminded of the old ritual that had consumed her life before: waiting on the front step of her house, at first for her father returning home, and then for the clean-cut shape of husband materializing from the gloom. The fading sunlight reminded her of the strength she had felt when she'd stepped into his arms, the quiet kiss they'd always shared, the whisper of slippers over rich rugs as she led him in for dinner.

Of course, dinner meant something entirely different, now, and she no longer had the man that she had loved with all of her heart.

At the bitter reminder of the way things had changed, Cybele shook her head angrily, clouds of golden hair floating around her face with the movement. She reached up a vividly pale hand and pushed the strands back roughly, head turned slightly to the side as she did so - and that was when she saw him. Seemingly slender build concealed under a heavy cloak, with only the faintest hint of platinum hair visible at the edges of the hood. There was an almost furtive air to the figure, though such apparent attempts at discretion were promptly rendered useless by a vicious grumbling noise that was all too familiar as the tell-tale rumblings of an empty stomach.

Then, too, there was the smell - human, and yet, not quite. Her senses had quite sharpened after her life had changed, and there was something distinctly different about this creature's scent, though as she'd never come across it before, it was impossible to place. In a way, it was colder than most humans - but that was ridiculous. After all, how could a smell be cold? She shook her head again, this time much softer, but shifted across the bench anyways, following its circular curve until she was nearer the creature. She thought that it might be a male, but she wasn't entirely sure.

"It seems that you got here too late for a meal, I'm guessing." Her voice was soft and unassuming, but full of a motherly tenderness, the sort of voice that always seemed to be singing a bedtime lullaby. "If you're really quite hungry, there's a place just around the corner that has decent food as well as drink. I could show you, if you'd like." She paused, slender fingers flitting to her throat. "Ah, where are my manners? I'm sorry. My name is Cybele Blount." Her eyes were kind, but the hunger that always hovered just beneath the surface was hard to hide, especially not to a trained predator.

[Salzem]

The little ice dragon appeared lost in thought, or at least, lost in his attempts to keep his hunger under control. Suffice it to say, going into a human city like this was a stupid and reckless idea, a place where everyone was the equivalent to a walking steak and he was a man who hadn't anything good to eat for almost 2 weeks now. Still, he would wait this out. He had too... At least until he found someone who no one would miss. A burglar, perhaps or a psychopath... Unlike a good number of his siblings who ate people unbiased, Aeizith had to be picky about those he consumed. His morals demanded this. As he mused on an on about how he was going to go about this act of effective cannibalism,  a tender voice rang out through the blackness of night, catching the dragon's attention. He glanced up from his thought to see that sitting right there in front of him on the circular stone bench surrounding the fountain, was a lady in a black cloak, two gentle eyes peering out from the shadow. She spoke with such loving gentleness Aeizith hadn't earned, making the ice dragon immediately afraid for his own existence. Well.. not precisely afraid, but intensely wary. Despite his innocent demeanor, the young dragon had been around more than long enough to pay the price for his ignorance, especially when it came to that tone of voice. The memory of such things still sent a proverbial chill down his spine. Almost on impulse, the stone foundation of the fountain began to frost over around the area he made contact with, the edge of each flake of snow serrated and barbed to all but him. Running a hand through sharp grass, painful and rash-giving. Immediately, he appeared guarded, suspicious, but not unwelcoming. With him too, there was a very powerful hunter's instinct hidden right behind his eyes, hidden beneath a veil of restrained innocence.

"No, n-no.... I c-can't eat that stuff anymore..." He said, surprised at himself for telling her that truth. Still, he put on a smile as she introduced herself Cybele. It was a nice enough name... It had a nice ring to it. "Pleased to meet you..." He mumbled. "My name's Aeizith..."

[glorilyss]

The air around the two grew significantly colder, and much faster than the leeching of daylight would suggest. The chill seemed to compound the scent of the boy in front of her - she had been right - but still offered no clues as the species of what she was looking at. By all accounts, he was simply a boy - quite young-looking, fair of hair and skin, with an expression that grew from something neutral to a guarded curiosity. Cybele's newly-sharpened hunter's senses could see the tightening of his facial muscles in exquisite detail, down to the way his body stiffened and he stilled, as a rabbit does when it hears the first twig snapping in the wilderness.

Quite interestingly, the water around the rim of the stone fountain solidified, thickening into a ring of ice that quickly swallowed the entire base of the fountain. Cybele turned her head to study the phenomenon, hoping that the break in eye contact might calm the youth. Her heart squeezed in something like pain at his reaction - was he afraid of her? And why? She looked nothing more than a young woman interested in a stranger. But then, she realized, strangers were often more trouble than they were worth - she had the experience to prove it.

She turned back to the boy, offering a smile. He did look so young, didn't he? If she had never been attacked nearly two years ago, would she have given birth to a little boy with fair hair like that? Would her child have grown up to look similar? Her heart constricted again, but this time, she had no problem recognizing it as an agonizing sense of loss over a future she could never have.

"That's an interesting trick," she said, making her tone casually bright. When he replied to her offer, she paused for a moment, slightly puzzled at his choice of words. Was he something like her? She, too, could no longer eat the food served in taverns, though drink was not beyond her ability. But no - she had smelled vampires before now, after her sense of smell had grown, and this was not the same thing. Not the same - but similar, in a way: the coolness, something like a ghost of a hint of blood in the air.

She acted as though she had misunderstood him. "To be honest, I don't think I can, either. Most of the taverns here have nothing so fine as they made back home." This wasn't quite true, but she thought it would be easier for him if she pretended like she hadn't gotten his meaning. "But there's bound to be something to eat around here! And you sound like you haven't had a meal in a while." She tried to hide the maternal notes from her tone, but knew it was a losing battle. After losing her only hope at a child, it was impossible to turn away from a youth in need. Even her previous hunger could dampen the feelings in her stomach. "Pleased to meet you too." She offered another smile, hoping to put him at ease.

[Salzem]

Aeizith grinned lightly despite himself at her the lady's comment, glad to hear some form of encouragement in all that time. Slowly, gradually, the little ice dragon began to lower his guard, becoming more and more relaxed around the woman. Even his hunger died a little at the sight of her. Clearly, on both body and mind he did not want to eat her and all the better! Even if it was a natural part of his life, the little ice dragon hated that part about himself. He never really took any pleasure in taking a life... He really couldn't see or understand the use of it.... Still, with a gesture, the ice from the fountain seemed to recede into a small, condensed orb in his cupped hands, slowly spinning as if some kind of gravitational force compelled it's movement as the fountain burst back to life as if nothing happened. Ah, Ice art... Some people painted, some sculpted clay, others made practical tools as their art but he... Aeizith enjoyed the manipulation of his element, the creation of things that were both malleable, practical and beautiful. He was something of an artist at heart... whether that was a weakness or a strength was up to the beholder, but he himself enjoyed it.

"Thanks..." He murmured, staring into the rotating Ice ball. "I like to t-think I have a t-talent for it..." He glanced up from his work as the cloaked female commented how that taverns never really matched anything home made. Well... he wouldn't know, would he? All he ever had was the flesh of living creatures and the vast amounts of tavern-food in between. Cooking was something alien to him or even dragons in general, unless you were a fire dragon eating a seared corpse. She mentioned that there was probably some place around here he could eat at and Aeizith held up his hands as if to stop her right there and as he did so, the ball of ice shattered into sparkling silver mist, snaking around his form before fading away into the night.

"I... really can't eat that anymore..." Aeizith repeated, emphasizing his words. "It... just doesn't work anymore...." At least for now it didn't, though it was true that as he grew up, human food was gradually starting to lose it's effectiveness in general. In a decade or two, he was going to feed on nothing but the flesh of man and beast, no more bread or cooked foods fore they would have no substance. Just as that thought crossed his head, an aggravated growl ran through his stomach. The dragon grimaced in displeasure, feeling the pangs of hunger rock his system. Aeizith hated this.... but he was so hungry....

[glorilyss]

It wasn't often that anyone came across such a flashy power as the young-looking boy had; in fact, most abilities (that she had seen) tended to be more subtle, and therefore scarier. In an odd way, the fact that she could see what he was doing was almost comforting. Better the devil you knew than the devil you didn't, after all. But at the same time, she had been born and raised in Connlaoth - magic was magic, no matter the degree, and magic was usually bad. Sneaky. Lazy.

Still, native Connlaothians would have something to say about the creature she had become recently, too. Enhanced senses? Incredible healing powers? Immortality? She was as full of magic as the boy was now, and therefore unable to judge.

"You do have quite a talent for it," she replied, in the universal, age-old voice of soccer moms and school teachers. A smile softened the edges of her kind words, reaching all the way to her eyes with no hint of prevarication. When the ball of undulating ice shattered into a fine, glittering mist, she couldn't stop the hand that fluttered to her heart, the way her lips parted slightly, and the awed shimmer in her eyes. "Very pretty!"

When he spoke once more, she fell quiet, letting her eyes drop to her hands. How could she approach this? She'd known his true meaning as soon as he'd spoken, but she hadn't been able to answer it then, and she was no closer now. She didn't think he was actually a vampire, even though she suffered the same dietary complications as he apparently did. When she reached for him, her hand was hesitant, pausing in the air before attempting to rest gentle on his own hands. "Well, we'll just have to find you something you can eat, won't we?" Of course, she had no problem with eating people - well, she did have a problem, but it was normal for her. When she spoke again, her voice was slightly brisk. "Now, I know most people prefer live prey, but there's a butcher just around the corner if you can't stomach it right now." She stood, letting the hood fall back from her cloud of hair. "So, what do you prefer?"

[Salzem]

Aeizith smiled at her reaction to his cryomancy, taking great pleasure in having an audience to his artwork, not to mention someone who actually enjoyed watching him manipulate his element. He hardly had shown anyone his particular taste in the cyromantic arts and all that he had were surprisingly positive. Seeing an expression such as Cybele Blount's was welcome indeed and highly encouraging. The little frost dragon lowered his head in thought, wondering if he should be more... open with his art. He contemplated the ideas of selling some of his icy creations to people who could sustain them. Not for the money, fore Aeizith hardly lacked such. He had a hoard after all. No, it would be for the recognition, the encouragement rather than material gain. It was something he never had growing up, the extent of it being the knowledge he was serving under his older sister more than anything else. But unlike how it might seem, Aeizith didn't want to be rewarded... Not really... he just wanted to see smiles more often, those touched expressions not unlike that the cloaked woman's in front of him. He imagined crowds gathered around great statues of pure frost ranging from the abstract to the realistic... And the smiles in the crowd would make his work worth it...

His head jerked up as he felt a pair of hands on his own, no doubt the foreign limbs feeling the intense chill of his skin. He realized though, that these were Cybele's, staring as her hood feel from her face, revealing her long blonde hair spilling forth. She was actually quite beautiful in a motherly way underneath the cloak. She appeared very kind and gentle, but also had a certain... primal ferocity...? He wasn't going to pretend his instincts made sense, but he held enough trust in her not to immediately freeze her on contact. Her statement, however, caught the dragon completely off guard. She remarked (quickly) that there were a lot of people that preferred live prey, but there was a butcher's shop down the way if he couldn't handle something breathing. So... she DID know what he was talking about... The dragon looked up at the (seemingly) older woman with an unreadable expression, trying to figure her out... Why was she trying to help him? How did she know he needed to eat something living like this? He might have simply asked her outright, but his hunger made him impatient, especially when she was offering him food. It sickened him just a bit that his mouth was very nearly watering.

"I... need something alive..." He muttered, standing a moment after Cybele stood herself if she did. He didn't even look her in the eye as he inquired, this being the worst part of being what he was. "Do you know anyone...?"   

[glorilyss]

As her hands, already preternaturally cool, clasped around the almost child-like boy's she finally felt a little shiver of a chill. It had been so long - years, two years! - since she had touched skin and found someone who wasn't the cold temperature of the reanimated dead. In a way, it was comforting; in a way, it was frightening.

"In a city like this, there is always someone." Her words were terrifying, yet her tone was cool, even sweet. And it was true. Arca was a large city, full of people who would never be missed as the sun rose the next day. Beggars, liars, thieves, mercenaries - with a city of this size, their pickings could be endless. The thought alone flamed into her throat, burning with the need for blood much in the way the boy before her felt.

"Come, stand." Her tone was suddenly imperious, that of a mother speaking to a sweet son. She had brought her hands to her side, then extended one to the pale-haired youth near her. Whether or not he took it, she would turn, heading for a darkly-shaded alley off of the main courtyard of the marketplace. Her steps were swift, assured. She had hunted in this city; she knew where to find fresh blood. Such was clear in the way that she led him through twisting alleys, then paused, her free hand sweeping out in an expansive gesture toward the alley that broadened into a smaller courtyard, filled with the homeless and the beggars. She turned back to the pale youth, hazel eyes suddenly fierce as the scent of so much ripened blood wriggled into her brain. "My sweet, the world is yours."

Without another word, she twisted, breaking contact with the boy before shooting unnaturally quickly across the small alley. Before anyone had a moment to register more than the beautiful woman and the pale boy, her hands had twisted into the shirt-front of an armless beggar; a moment later, her teeth were deep in his throat, and his blood gurgled down her shift.

From then on, it was pandemonium.

[Salzem]

Aeizith quietly followed as the woman took him around the city by the hand, her palms surprisingly gold and her grip unexpectedly strong. He could feel the lack of body-heat through his gloves as they made their way through the winding streets, already lost in the labyrinth of homes and alleys. They came to particularly large alley packed with homeless people, men and women who had been severely down on their luck. With Aeizith there to curb his hunger, that phrase took on an entirely different meaning. Cybele displayed the sleeping folk to him with a wide gesture, as if displaying a feast laid out before him on a table. It disgusted him to acknowledge this, but... Aeizith was having trouble standing in one spot with all this food laid out in front of him... It was only the blonde's commands keeping him from jumping on the nearest person. With a declaraton that the world was in fact his, she leaped on an ancient looking man, tearing into him before he could even fully blink. Were the ice dragon in a more... stable state of mind, he would have questioned the reasoning behind that act she committed, wondering if she too were a dragon, but his hunger wouldn't be resisted for a moment longer. Following Cybele's example, He leaped on the back of a sleeping woman, lowering his teeth down to her neck before something heavy struck him in the back of the head. Aeizith fell off of the woman's body, scrambling backwards as she got up, a sword in her hand... The young dragon didn't get a chance to see what struck him, though as something cut at his face, slicing across the bridge of his nose and drawing a substantial amount of blood. Biting his tongue so his screams were suppressed to a mere whimper, Aeizith raised a hand, a pillar of ice encapsulating the hunter in his element, the interior of the pillar acting exactly like an iron maiden torture device. The body inside was impailed in several places at once, killing the girl instantly, but the remaining attacker was nowhere to be seen... whoever struck him left faster than he could detect.

Instead of going to the kill he had made, the ice dragon knelt there on the ground among the still-sleeping homeless people, cradling his face as he whimpered in pain. The cut was not so deep it severed his nose, but it did cut deeply into his flesh and somewhat into the bridge. his face burned angrily at the pain and Aeizith along with it, clamping his jaws shut to keep from screaming.

[glorilyss]

Cybele had never been a tidy eater, not since the moment that she had woken up from the night that one life had ended and the other had begun. Today was little different; as her teeth found the precise point in the old man's throat, the blood had flowed in rivers that only partially made it into her mouth. In the two years that she had been learning to hunt, she had always had a remarkable accuracy - but never much control.

In fact, it was that which led her to be oblivious to the commotion mere feet beside her. It was only when she dropped the now-immobile figure to the floor and half-turned to find her next victim that she noticed the flurry of activity at all. The beautifully golden-haired woman had barely registered the flicker of movement from the old woman before she shot forward, hand flung out, fingers curled into claws-

And all for nothing. The creature was quickly incased in ice, her end far quicker than that which she would have suffered at the golden-haired angel's hands. For some reason, she almost felt as though the creature had attacked her own child - and anyone who did so would have felt a thousand times worse than the brutal stabbing of razored icicles into their body.

As she turned, Cybele tried to draw a calming breath - then paused. Something hot and dark slapped against the back of her throat, stirring the not-quite-fully slaked thirst there. Rich and vivid, like the first time she had tasted whiskey, the scent branded itself into the back of her throat. Her head snapped around, eyes immediately locking onto the sliver of scarlet that dribbled down the pale skin of her companion.

It was as if she was controlled by someone else; as she took a step forward, her eyes were leveled slightly upward, almost as though she were staring into his eyes. Instead, they were fixed on the line of vividly berry-bright colored slashed against his skin. "I can fix that for you." For the first time, she wondered if the man she'd drank from had been consuming wine; there was the faintest hint of a slur to her voice. Her hand fluttered up, reaching out to rest against his elbow and then drifting further upward. "D'you want me to help?" Her voice still had the same sweetness, but oddly enough, it had all of the syrupy persuasion of a vampire. She didn't want to hurt him - but that didn't mean she could stop herself.

[Salzem]

Aeizith clenched his eyes shut as he attempted to work through the pain enough to think properly. The blow dealt to him blasted away any hunger-pangs that tore at his restraint. All he could feel now was the agony of his sinuses being this close to being exposed to the rancid air around them. Cybele knelt down in front of the dragon, a splash of attractive red spattered across her face. He looked up at her wide-eyed, the azure orbs appearing almost glossy and afraid as he stared into hers. She spoke sweetly, calmly, the way a mother might sooth a hurt child, offering her help should he want it. The little ice dragon couldn't stop staring into those eyes of hers, almost completely mesmerized by the way she talked and they way she stared at him, the subtle persuasion in her voice winning him over before he even knew there was a battle for his will.

Slowly and with shaking, bloody hands, Aeizith lowered his arms away from his face, revealing the still-bleeding gash that caused him so much pain. He nodded slowly, showing that he really wanted her help... Bandages, pain-killers, magic, anything to just make this gash in his face go away was what he wanted. He looked like a child who had just broken his arm or cut his hand badly, appearing so helpless and fragile despite the display of power he had shown only a moment ago. He acted the way he looked, like a wounded child who got hurt doing something he shouldn't be doing under any circumstances. Small tears welled up in the corners of his eyes as the air stung his exposed wound harshly, vengefully as he waited for Cybele to make it all better.

[glorilyss]

Even in the depths of her depravity, Cybele saw the placid expression on the youth's face. IT tugged at the heartstrings she halfway believed she no longer had; it made her hesitate, hand outstretched, before aforementioned hand descended onto his shoulder. Her eyes were still limpid pools of hazel brilliance, her face beautiful and tragic and angelic all twisted into one single shining strand - but nothing had changed, and the rich scent of her blood still thrilled through her senses.

The woman leaned forward, hand lifting to join the other appendage as she moved to cradle Aeizith's face in her palms. There should have been more of a contrast between the skin tones, but both vampire and dragon were quite pale; as such, it almost looked like a mother cuddling her beloved son. The imagery was enhanced as she leaned forward, pressing her lips gently to the violent slash across the bridge of her nose. Her tongue flicked out in a brief, serpentine gesture, startling against the skin - but then, vampire saliva was known to have a deadening effect on the nerves of an open wound. Within moments, relief would come to him.

However, as the tip of her tongue flicked against the scarlet line, the vivid flavors burst against her tongue. She moved without thinking, her hands shifting so that the long sweep of his throat was exposed - of course, as long as he didn't struggle. Provided her sweet sacrifice didn't move, she ducked her head down, poppy-colored lips placing themselves against the exact spot where his heart hammered a pulse through his veins. Every beat was dear to her.

Every beat was delicious.

Before she could control herself, the incisors which had slid down in the heat of her lust earlier pressed against the skin, bore deeper, brought blood. Her lips latched onto his throat, one arm snaking around the slender back, the other cupping the nape of his neck. She could no more control herself now than she had the first night she had been reborn. Dragon blood was a new experience: it was raw, and filthy, and pure, and fire. She could drown in it and never want another breath.

[Salzem]

Aeizith's eyes shot open as Cybele actually licked his wound in a way a snake would like it's surroundings, in and out, fast and quick to get a feel of it's surroundings. The immediate contact caused an immense burning to flood all the way across his face but in a matter of moments, that pain faded to a mere dull throb. He opened his mouth to thank her for her help, for making the pain go away (somehow) but the next thing he knew, the woman wasn't just helping him anymore, she was going for his throat! Before he could even move, Cybele's teeth had already pierced his skin, blood squeezing through the gap between flesh and bone as the woman lapped up his life-juices like they were some kind of flavorful wine. The lonely ice dragon jerked and spasmed in response, his scales immediately rising to the surface, for some kind of protection against her draining him dry. After a minute of her drinking, Aeizith would shove her away, hard, most likely causing her to fall to the ground several feet away. Twin bat-like wings sprouted from Aezith's back , extended to either side in a threatening manner, two curved daggers within his palms. Under the veil of night, his blue eyes glowed menacingly.... but only one of his eyes were blue... The other eye... was a deep, powerful sanguine like the blood Cybele had extracted a moment before. Immediately as if completely under the control of some irresistible force,  The dragon descended on one of the still-sleeping homeless people, ripping them asunder before Aeizith could even blink. He could feel the copious amounts of blood and meat going down his throat right then... the flavors... the textures... he needed MORE. Over the course of only a couple minutes, The dragon moved from person to person, ripping them apart at blinding speeds and devouring their bloody meat hungrily, needingly until he came to the last person, a young girl perhaps even younger than Aeizith appeared himself. It was as he stared down at this girl did he realize.... he wasn't hungry anymore...

His thoughts and control returned to him at this moment and, as he turned to face Cybele... he eyes were glowing a deep, hungry red. Aeizith fell to his knees, placed his face in his blood-drenched hands and wept, his draconic features leaving him, only a little child-looking vampire among a killing-ground of bodies, gore, and blood.

[glorilyss]

Cybele had not expected the sudden backlash of the body in her arms. She had realized, as she had bitten many people in situations both fearful and not, that while her saliva anesthetized the wound, it also played on whatever emotion was featuring predominantly at the moment that she bit her prey. If a creature was afraid, they would feel their terror multiplied; if her sacrifice was excited, or aroused, or happy, those same emotions would be intensified, to the point of near-ecstatic madness.

So, truly, it should have been no shock. After all, she'd felt the hunger and the nervousness in him; it made sense that he had reacted the way he had.

As she was shoved brusquely away, the woman twisted, hands landing on the cobbled street, pushing violently upwards even as her back arched, until her heels flew over her head and she landed in a half-crouch, eyes narrowed in the instinctive desire to protect herself. She stayed absolutely motionless as her newest child tore through body after body, a fierce pride mingling with the horror that she had created another monster.

After all, like mother like son, right?

But still, it wasn't done yet.

As he fell to his knees, curled into himself and weeping with the abandon of a child, she moved toward him, footsteps blunted by ageless grace. Her hands reached out as she knelt to the side of him, arms tentatively moving to wrap around his slender frame and draw him to her breast. She hoped he wouldn't struggle; she hadn't wanted to hurt him, and in his delicate face saw only the future of her murdered son. If he let himself be pulled toward her, her arms would clinch around him with every ounce of possessive, maternal desperation that mothers have known since the beginning of time.

"You're not cured yet," she whispered, bright lips stirring the hair near his ear. "I know that it hurt. But if you drink this, you will never be killed. You may experience pain, but your body will never suffer. You will never grow a year older in your body, but your mind will stretch and sprout and flower. You will be my son, and I will love you until I am taken from you." Her words had a similar persuasion from earlier, but this time it was because of the heartbreaking desperation in her voice. She wanted him to love her. With a movement so swift that even the young dragon would have trouble registering it, she brought her wrist to her mouth and tore at the skin there, leaving a jagged gash that sprayed blood against the both of them. She lifted her offering to his face, hazel eyes nearly swallowed up by the pupil, but still undeniably loving.

"Just drink. Just drink, and be with me, and let me care for you like your family never has."

[Salzem]

Aeizith didn't resist when Cybele wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into an embrace the dragon could only describe as "motherly." In fact, instead of resisting, the ice dragon wrapped his bloody arms around her torso, desperate for some other kind of comfort, even if it was from the same person that did this to him in the first place. Aeizith was never a killer, even if he possessed the power to wipe entire armies off the map. He never enjoyed the act of taking a life, or several in this case, so his act of mass murder a moment ago shell-shocked the little, lonely ice dragon. Not even at his hungriest would he take the lives of so many people to sustain himself, not even if he had gone several weeks without a crumb of food.

Cybele held him gently, but possessively in a way Aeizith had never experienced before... He never knew his mother or father as he was too young to keep those memories, but he had known Emilia and she never once held him like this in immediate memory if at all. Even though she was a stranger and had only met Aeizith a few moments ago, she held the dragon like he were her own son and it felt strangely good... He wasn't off-put by the strange amounts of warmth she gave to him... It made him feel loved despite the things he did, it made him feel safe... He looked up at the woman as she noted that he was not "cured" yet, referring to the wound on his face. Yes... he could still feel it, the barbed pulsing as his body protested the maleficent wound upon his face. He winced with his attention drawn back to it, but it was her words that drew his mind away once again, as attractive and charismatic as they were before.

Her laying out all the benefits of what she was about to do were unnecessary given the state he was in. With him being so vulnerable and scared, her charisma and vampiric hypnotism cut through his (already mediocre) mental defenses like a knife, easily planting the idea in his head that whatever she wanted him to do was surely a good idea. He felt a warm, tingling, fluttery sensation in his chest when she said he'd be her son and that she'd love him until the inevitable eventually happened. Cybele's words flattered him to no end, causing him to reciprocate her feelings at an alarming rate. Her vampiric charisma had him by the throat and he simply could not refuse. It just wasn't an option. It wasn't as if he was an outsider looking in, watching his body dance to her tune. No, he was completely convinced that he wanted to be loved by Cybele, to be her son and love her as much as she did him.

The moment she tore into her wrist, telling him to drink her blood so he could be with her, Aeizith immediately placed his lips to her wound, sucking out her undead blood and ingesting it into his own body. The effects of this ingestion happened rather quickly, catching the dragon by surprise as if he had been slapped out of nowhere. The fever came first, Aeizith's body growing even more pale and the chill of sickness spreading throughout his whole body with the exception of his head which burned like hot sand. His body shook with agony as the transformation took place within, changing the very anatomy of his body. Then, came the pains. Cramps everywhere along his muscles, aching worse in the joints. Horrible, burning, jabbing pains, ripping through his body as if they had a vendetta against him. Aeizith didn't dare open his mouth lest he risk more pain. Instead, his eyes began to water again, tears of agony rolling down his cheeks.

After several minutes of this hell, then came the final symptom, the hallucinations. Sometimes, his siblings would be standing there beside Cybele as she held him and other times, he could feel their fingers running through his snow-white hair. He looked up at Cybele, pain clear, obvious and abundant, but there was also very clear love in his eyes. One could hardly tell if this was his own or if the vampiress still had her claws in his mind. Ether way, if felt genuine enough to him... Even if he was suffering right there, feeling like he was about to die every second, he had the mother he always wanted...

[glorilyss]

There seemed to be no quantifiable moment between the instant that she proffered her blood and the consequent latching of Aeizith's mouth on her wrist. She closed her eyes in the confusing wellspring of emotions battling through her body; the act of giving her blood had always been such a confusing thing for her. Of course, there was the instinctive intention to withdraw, to struggle, that she had always felt in her prey; vampires very rarely liked to be drank from as much as their victims did, with the exception of romantic relationships between partners. So, of course, her instincts screeched at her to break the connection, to tear her arm from his mouth and deny him her blood, so rich with new life and unknown strength that would find a home in his veins.

However, in a quite contradictory fashion, she knew the sweetness of joy warming her belly more than the hot blood from earlier had. He had given himself up to her. He had given his future into his hands, and she would hold it and protect it and nurture it as every good mother must. He had given himself into her care, and she vowed that she would not fail him as her frail human body had failed to protect her body-born child. She would never be vulnerable again, and for once, she had a child borne of her blood that she felt more than the desire to acquire for.

Her arms tightened fractionally as she felt her blood take hold. She knew every inch of what he was experiencing, having gone through it all herself. She knew the feeling of being empty, emptier than depression or despair could make you, emptier than a hollow belly and gaping wounds and bloodless veins. She was intimate with the frigid cold that stole up the tapered lengths of fingertips and stole along the skin of wrists and ankles, until there was nothing but ice inside of you. She could feel the rapid cooling of his skin, even colder than his ice powers, as death stalked him like a shadow and stole along all of the little neurons in his brain, every cell in his skin. Of course, the cramping came next, and she tightened her hold even more against the gentle bucking and settling of the body in the throes of an eternal sleep.

Except, of course, that he would never sleep again.

Her hands were almost warm against the bone-dead chill of his skin as she brushed gentle fingers over his wet cheeks. She could see the ghosts in his eyes, the half-caught shadows that smuggled fear in their wake, as she ran her fingers through his hair, twisting the pale curls like golden rings around her fingers. With him, it was different - she had been alone and poorly cloaked for a long night in the middle of winter, with a half-grown child in her belly and the icy kiss of despair darkening every hallucination. But that didn't mean he had it any easier - he had things in his past that would drag cruel claws of torment and longing through his head, as surely as they had hers. So she held him, vividly treasuring every single second of the deepening love that glittered in his eyes.

She expected him to be done soon. It had taken so long for her to truly give up - she had been beaten down with the numbing desolation of seeing her hard-won husband murdered before her eyes, but nothing in the world could have made her give up the fight for her life and that of her unborn child's. She had struggled with everything in her to revolt against the invader in her body, but in the end she'd been forced to give up. Here, with her new son cradled in her lap, she expected him to give up much more quickly. She didn't think he'd last much more than an hour.

Still, the sky above her head was paling from midnight velvet to charcoal silk with the first stirrings of dawn by the time she was sure that he was nearly through. She knew what came next, of course; he would most likely lose consciousness for a few hours while his body made the final changes, burning out old portions of the brain and rewiring new instincts into every hidden compartment. After a while, his old self would come back, but it would take months, years of discipline and training to control even his smallest urges. She would have to remove him from the city as soon as he was truly out cold, find a small cave and keep him there until the worst of his newborn thirst was slaked.

And then, she would teach him everything.

[Salzem]

It certainly wasn't long until the little ice dragon's heart began to slow and his body temperature to drop even further. Even if his body had the strength to fight whatever it was causing him to die, Aeizith didn't have the will... He never did with anything he did. He never refused an order, he never resisted a command... he was just weak in that regard, plain and simple, especially when it came to life-and-dead situations like this. The little lonely ice dragon didn't have enough strength to fight back against this ungodly invader... The scariest part wasn't the cramps or the hallucinations or the fever or even the fact he was dying. It was the fact that he could feel his blood beginning to morph in his veins, his body beginning to turn into something far unlike itself. It felt.... invasive... strange and hostile without the luxury of pain to distract him from the changes. The last thing Aeizith would see as the dragon he was would be the face of the Cybele looking down at him, seemingly eating up the fading love in his eyes.

And all went dark.... so dark and so cold... Aeizith couldn't see a thing, couldn't feel a thing... He couldn't even tell if his arm was moving as he attempted to feel around his surroundings. He couldn't detect sound as his hearing was muffled... In this crushing black, Aeizith could do nothing but stare into the nightmare darkly, a nightmare where nothing existed, not pain, nor fear, no people.... Just... the consuming black.

Aeizith wondered if this was what death was like, a black, unending void with not even a sound to keep him company. The little frost dragon wondered if this was the hell a great majority of human faiths believed in. Was this... his punishment...? Did the gods dictate that he was unworthy for their blessings, that he was too impure to trust with their best...? He wouldn't blame them, really. He had killed a great many people including the ones today. Aeizith had hurt his family with his stupidity and scared them with his silence. The little ice dragon hadn't done anyone any amount of good in his miserable 7000 years on this planet and somehow... this void felt like poetic justice. No one to hurt... no one to scare.... no one but himself for all eternity...

And then... there was light... and surroundings began to fade back in all around him... the first sensation he felt when his sanguine eyes fluttered open was.... hunger.

[glorilyss]

The world had turned and twisted, shifting and swirling through each successive explosion of daily rebirth and nightly collapse, until the fading blues of dusk and dawn had seemed to become as one to the creature in the mouth of the cave. The fall of golden hair that spilled over her back was picked out strand by strand in a shimmer of moonlight and starshine, muted gold and flashing silver quivering with every motion. Her form lay languidly in the entrance to the cave, bare legs stretched to bar the pathway into the dark niche, pale skin blending with the pale sand that blanketed the floor. Outside of the cave, the ledge around the entrance dropped steeply out of sight, so that it seemed they were floating up among the stars. The wind whistled through the depths of the cavern, joining with the crash and roar of an ocean below.

As soon as she had been certain that her newest child was thoroughly removed from this life and passing through to the next one, she had pulled his heavy cloak over his body and drawn her own hood around her fair hair. A newborn vampire is most sensitive to sunlight, though the truly ancient elders experienced a similar vulnerability. She had hailed a carriage, having draped one of his arms around her and snaking an arm around his waist; at a quick glance, it would seem that she was helping him move on his own, and not that the waif-like girl was supporting a young man taller and heavier than herself. From Arca she had brought them both to the coastal plains near Cerenis, uncertain all the time if he would wake before she'd found them a new home.

It had taken much less time for her than it had for him, but then, she'd had other things to fight for - and honestly, she had dragged herself from the pits of darkness when the cutting agony in her belly had first struck. There was only one thing that could have meant to her, and she would have fought every demon in every dark pit to save the child that she had lost in a wave of blood and broken dreams.

The cave hadn't been hard to find, and the carriage driver had been far more difficult to rid herself of. After too many tedious arguments, she'd finally freed herself of his nervous care, and when the small vehicle had disappeared into the distance, she finally done away with the foolish notion that her inhuman body couldn't carry her own child, no matter if said child was larger than her.

The small cave was where they'd spent the last - what, two days? She couldn't be entirely certain. She had alternately passed between concern that it was taking too long and certainty that this was just the way things worked, and not everyone would return as quickly as she had. She had only left his side once, to buy a few things from Cerenis: thick blankets that she could cover the mouth of the cave with and create an area for the resting body near her-

Suddenly, something changed. Her body stiffened from its place at the open mouth of the cave, her eyes swiveling and probing the darker recesses wreathed in shadow. Within a moment, she was a liquid tumble of moon-kissed skin and then shadow-drenched swiftness, kneeling at the side of the prone figure on the floor. Her hand fluttered out over the brow, which had once burned with fever but now felt much the same as it had when he had been an uncomplicated mortal. She could tell that he was truly hers, now; his scent was different, though the change was subtle.

There was a gleam of starlight reflected in his eyes, telling her that he was finally awake. She showed him her smile, framed by a golden halo of hair around her face until even the most fervent vampire slayer would have trouble telling demon from angel. "Good morning, Aeizith." She laughed, a quiet shiver of sound that was swallowed by the keening of the wind beyond their shelter. "You've been asleep a long time. You nearly had me worried." She wouldn't tell him just how worried she'd been, plagued by the fear that her body had not been able to carry a child, and perhaps her blood could not do so either.

[Salzem]

Aeizith immediately winced and covered his eyes in anguish with his arm as new sources of light blinded the poor dragon......vampire. Everything was so white... so... shiny... It was horrible, distracting to say the least. And then... there were the sounds... The little lonely ice dragon winced with every little water droplet that dripped from the stalactites on the ceiling. He groaned in misery as he adapted to his new, enhanced senses, his head filled with all sorts of new vertigo... and cravings. Aeizith's now sanguine eyes glanced up at Cybele, the woman who helped him and turned him into.... this. Somehow, even after his newly-resurrected mind pieced together what he had become, Aeizith felt nothing but affection for the smaller woman... It was as if he could fall asleep in her arms and never wake up, entrusting her with his existence forever. No one other than Amira had granted little lonely ice dragon this much love... no one other than her had given him this much peace... As his senses finally faded into the background, Aeizith wrapped his arms around Cybele's waist once again, like a child who had been homesick for their mother. He pressed his face into her chest right above her bosom and just sat there, unresponsive, his red eyes glowing hauntingly.

Aeizith was silent for several moments, just thinking, feeling, understanding everything... And for some reason... he was angry. No, he wasn't angry at his new mom. How could he be? It was just some blind, misdirected anger only now being released for the first time in 700 years. Silently, the little ice dragon curled up against the vampiress, before closing his eyes and sighing almost reluctantly. He felt the power coursing through his muscles, the rocket-fuel in his veins, the sharpness of his teeth and the quickness in his nerves... and he was afraid... It was like opening a gift to find something you always wanted and it being also a terrible surprise... Aeizith always wanted power so he could stack up to his siblings, so he would no longer be the weakest among them and now that he had received this power.... was he even him? The fact he was even asking this question spoke for itself but The little ice dragon still wasn't sure... It was a few more moments before Aeizith actually spoke for the first time since his "death", adjusting his head so that only the side rested on her chest.

"Mo-" He almost said, stopping himself quickly as a dark blue blush fell over his face. "Cybele... I'm so hungry..." He murmured, his mouth practically watering as he spoke. He could hear the elder vampiress' heart beating in her chest, the blood rushing through her veins and the creak of her bones as they shifted in their sockets. "I'm so hungry..." His words were desperate, pleading, begging for the sustenance he needed but did not want. But in nature, needs always overrode wants. Aeizith needed blood... His body demanded it.

"Please..." he moaned, nearly tearing up at the unignorable agony in his gut. "I need blood..."