23 Rattus
The dappled sunlight filtered through the thick canopy of trees, casting a mesmerizing pattern of shadows on the forest floor.
Amidst the symphony of chirping birds and the rhythmic clattering of a wooden carriage rolling on the forest path, there moved a weary traveler, a lone soul.
He possessed an unremarkable stature, with average build, his brown hair tousled by the wind, and eyes that held the weariness of countless miles traveled. Yet, his left arm bore a scar tissue, a testament to a fierce encounter with a wolf, an encounter he had miraculously survived.
The noon sun hung lazily in the sky, casting golden beams that caressed the traveler's face, coaxing a yawn of boredom from his lips.
His eyes, however, widened in momentary discomfort as the sunlight pierced through the leaves, blinding him momentarily.
A calloused hand instinctively rose to shield his face, and when the searing heat subsided, he lowered his hand, blinking back the spots from his vision.
What met his eyes was a sight that transcended the mundane.
Two women stood before him, ethereal in their beauty. One had blonde hair, while the other possessed hair as silver as moonlight on water. Yet, it was the platinum-haired woman who held him captive, her eyes akin to precious red jewels he rarely seen from the nobility.
Her form was enchanting, clad in a daring black dress that revealed a daring glimpse of her chest, a sight so audacious that it left the traveler momentarily spellbound.
In his twenty-five years of life, he had never encountered a woman who dared to bare so much skin, especially in the cultural realms of Anglo-Saxon society.
He found his gaze irresistibly drawn to her face, where an alluring smile played upon her lips.
In the blink of an eye, they vanished, leaving the traveler with a lingering sense of disbelief.
Suddenly, he felt a presence on both sides of him. A sudden chill crept down his spine, urging him to rein in his horse.
He turned his head, his eyes widening in astonishment as he beheld the platinum-haired woman once more. This time, her smile was not just captivating but unsettling, for her lips parted, revealing a glint of fangs.
The golden coin glimmered in the sunlight, the platinum-haired woman placed it in the traveler's calloused hand.
Her voice, smooth as silk yet laced with an undeniable command, spoke the words, "A table for two, please" as she enclosed his hand.
Confusion etched the man's features, a crease marring his brow as he grappled with the inexplicable situation. He sensed it was a barter, an exchange of unknown consequences, yet the intricacies of the arrangement eluded his understanding.
But astonishment washed over him like a tidal wave as he comprehended the coin's value.
It could buy a new, superior carriage or secure several livestock for his grandfather's farm. His mind raced with possibilities.
Before he could voice his confusion, the platinum-haired woman's delicate fingers reached for his neck, pulling his face closer.
For a fleeting moment, confusion mingled with anticipation. Was she about to kiss him?
The truth struck him like a bolt of lightning as her fangs pierced his neck, sending waves of excruciating pain through his body.
Fear gripped him, freezing him in place. Vampires, creatures of folklore and terror, were mere myths, tales spun by elders to keep children within the safety of their homes. Yet, here he was, face to face with one, his blood being drained with each beat of his heart.
They are real.
Her fangs sank deeper, her body inching closer, greedily siphoning the life force from his veins.
Desperation clawed at him, urging him to fight, to escape the clutches of this predator. But an invisible chain, stronger than steel, seemed to bind him, rendering him immobile.
He felt another sharp pain on his shoulder, and he realized the blonde woman had joined the feast.
His vision blurred, the forest around him becoming a mere haze. Dizziness engulfed him as his lifeblood left his body, leaving him weak and disoriented. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision, and with each passing moment, he slipped further.
The pain, as abrupt as its onset, ceased, leaving the traveler's body feeling curiously weightless. His consciousness, once dimming like a flickering candle, steadied.
"Don't suck the life out of him, Victoria" Valaine admonished, her mouth stained with his blood, "He probably has a family waiting for him."
In response, Victoria, murmured a muffled acknowledgment, her fangs still pressed against the traveler's skin as she continued to feed.
"Yesh Mashtah" she replied obediently.
Valaine, wiped her bloodied mouth with leaves plucked from the nearby bushes. She plucked another coin from her inventory and placed it in the traveler's hand.
She felt bad for making him faint.
Victoria, sated and relieved, stretched languidly in the clearing.
Valaine's eyes narrowed as she observed the man gradually regaining consciousness. A surge of fear coursed through him, his adrenaline spiking as he realized what happened to him.
Moving swiftly, Valaine grasped the man's throat, her touch firm, her eyes like twin rubies glowing in the dimming light.
"You will forget what happened ten minutes ago and ten minutes from now," she intoned, "You found two gold that was littered on your way."
The man's gaze dulled, his awareness clouding like mist. Valaine watched, her lips curling into a triumphant grin as her compulsion took hold, erasing his memory of the encounter and leaving only a vague recollection of two gold coins he found.
"Where is Virgil Draco?" Victoria inquired, her voice a melodic blend of curiosity and concern.
Valaine, her expression softening at the mention of the child, replied, "Just call him Virgil, like how I call you Victoria, not Victoria Ceres."
As if summoned by their conversation, a majestic red dragon descended gracefully to the forest floor. Drakul Karfang, the newly tamed dragon, touched down with a gentle thud.
Perched atop Drakul's head was Virgil. In the short span of half a week under Valaine's care, the child had transformed, appearing as though he had aged six months in that time. Valaine had fed him Feathered-Dragon Milk, a curious concoction that had led to a surprising growth spurt and endowed him with unexpected strength.
Valaine tenderly picked Virgil up, cradling him in her right arm. Concluding their feeding session, their hunger satiated for now. They took to the skies, their forms disappearing into the boundless expanse above.
Virgil giggled in delight, his tiny hands reaching out to touch Victoria's face, his eyes wide with innocent curiosity. Victoria, her expression softened by the child's innocence, gently cooed back at him.
Meanwhile, Valaine stood tall atop Drakul, her platinum hair billowing in the afternoon breeze. Her thoughts, however, were somewhere else.
Magic, was both a familiar ally and a puzzle to Valaine. While she now had mastered the art of conjuring fire arrows and even revived Drakul from the death, a problem persisted. The creation of physical objects, a feat seemingly elementary, eluded her.
She muttered, "Create Dagger," yet nothing materialized.
Then, the realization struck her like a thunderclap. Creating tangible items, it was the realm of alchemy. How had she forgotten the distinction?
Intrigued by this, she welcomed the challenge. As a predominantly offensive fighter, delving into the art of alchemy would be a valuable expansion of her abilities.
However, she had no books or texts on the subject, and it seemed she would have to rely on her own experimentation and intuition to learn about this.
She closes her eyes and a vision materialized before her, revealing a man seated inside a dimly lit building, patiently awaiting the sunset.
The perks for having the racial class Blood-mother. This allowed her to maintain control over her thralls, extending even to their senses. What they can see, she can also see.
Earlier, she had directed her thrall to meet her at a specific river, a simple yet effective use of her powers. With this advantage, she could weave a web of influence that can stretched far and wide.
As the night descended, Valaine sat on a flat rock by the riverbank. The rippling water mirrored the glittering stars above, and in that serene darkness.
"Rats," she murmured, "are like the silent observers of our world. They scuttle in the shadows, much like the deceivers and liars"
She continued, "Snitches, too, thrive in these, trading secrets, much like the serpentine tongues of those we call allies."
On the river's edge, Valaine sat alone, Drakul hidden from view. He is a mere silhouette in the distance. She had chosen to keep Drakul's existence a secret, biding his time until the moment was ripe.
Emerging from the clearing, the thrall approached, cloaked in a disguise of brown leather that shrouded his features.
The moonlight hit the thrall's face that emerged from the trees. His skin bore a ghostly pallor, a pointy beard clung to his jawline, and black wavy long hair cascaded down his shoulders.
Valaine's discerning eyes caught the glimpse of tattoos adorning his arms, markings of a culture she hadn't noticed before.
"Milady," he said, and he lowered himself.
Valaine's gaze flickered to the tattoos, curiosity glinting in her eyes. "Tell me about those marks," she inquired, intrigued by the unfamiliar symbols etched into his skin.
The man straightened, pride evident in his voice. "I am Celtic, Milady, and these tattoos are my heritage when I was human 300 years ago."
Valaine nodded in understanding. "I see," she said, a hint of approval in her tone. "Your pride is well-placed."
His eyes searched hers, a question lingering in the air. "Does it bother you, Milady?"
Valaine met his gaze with a reassuring smile. "Not in the slightest. In fact, your heritage only adds to your strength. Wear it proudly."
The man bowed his head, gratitude shone in his eyes, "My previous master didn't appreciate it, so I had to conceal them whenever I was in her presence. It's liberating to wear them openly now, Milady."
Valaine, intrigued by the revelation, leaned in, her silver hair cascading as she inquired further. "I see. That explains why I hadn't noticed them before."
The conversation shifted towards more pressing matters, "Tell me more about Coven Eaclair. How do they function?"
The man divulged the inner workings of the coven, "Coven Eaclair boasts 2,400 standing vampires,"
He began, "Lady Elisabeth, our leader, is meticulous in selecting those who join our coven. The hierarchy mirrors that of nobility, and similar structures are present in other covens as well."
Valaine arched an eyebrow, urging him to continue.
"We have an alliance with the current Duke of Mercia," he revealed.
"It's a treaty born from mutual benefit, they turn a blind eye. In return, we provide protection and refrain from feeding on the local nobility."
"Why the protection?" Valaine questioned, her sharp mind probing for the truth.
The man lowered his gaze, revealing a hidden truth. "Protection, or so we claim. Is an illusion, we tell the humans that we shield them from other rival covens, instilling fear of "bad" vampires from other territories."
He continued, "The propaganda of vampire attacks is merely a facade, we perpetuate the myth of protection to keep the humans compliant."
Valaine absorbed this information, her understanding of vampire culture deepening. The intricate dance of alliances and deceptions fascinated her.
"Do all covens operate under this guise of protection?" she inquired, her eyes keen with interest.
"Yes, Milady. It's a common practice. Covens give "protection" and refrain from feeding on local nobility. The nobility, in turn, turns a blind eye when we feed on commoners."
The revelation hung heavy in the night air, the unspoken agreements between humans and vampires.
"And what about confrontations?" Valaine pressed further. "Do covens ever openly oppose the nobility?"
His gaze met hers, "Indeed, Milady. Sometimes, a coven acts as other covens, attacking the nobility. It instills fear and legitimizes our influence further."
Valaine's lips curled into a thoughtful smile. "Fascinating," she murmured.
"And where is this Lady Elisabeth now?" she questioned.
He provided the information. "She's on an intimidation tour across the Duchy, celebrating the 90th anniversary of our coven. During daylight hours, she stops and camps for sixteen hours, waiting for the sun to go down. The entire tour will span months."
A spark of opportunity lit up in Valaine's eyes.
"This information could prove useful," she mused to herself, a plan taking shape in her mind.
Before she concluded the conversation, she finally asked, "What is your name?"
He responded, "Aodh, Milady."
Valaine smiled, a promise hidden in her eyes. "Aodh, I have a job for you," she revealed.
"And if you perform well, you'll find that the power you gain, will surpass anything your previous master could offer."
