Eldovian Era 1705, 12th day of the 8th month

Rassa finished another book, dropping it on the floor beside the bed to join the tens of other books he'd been through in the last month, some more than once. He placed an arm over his eyes breathing a deep sigh as he recalled and complied the information that he'd read through. He was beginning to discover that his memory has improved by leaps and bounds. He had never had access to such a large supply and variety of books, and despite the fact that reading in general had become quite boring, he was also learning quite a bit. In fact, his memory had almost come to the point where he need only recall an image of the book to be able to recite it start to finish. In some ways this discovery scared him, but in others it allowed him access to a broader knowledge base. One which allowed him to think more clearly and reasonably.

Nobody had really cared what books Rassa had been given. They'd gone for practically anything. There were a few volumes on Magician law and practice, histories of the Eldovian Era, books on the Geography of not only their own continent, but the Seven Isles which lay just off the southern coast, the southern continent, and the two continents on the other side of the Jade Sea. It was a lot to take in, but there seemed to be no problems for Rassa. He soaked up the information like a sponge, and in the interim was exposed to more of Victor's lessons. These usually took place late at night when Arita was most certainly fast asleep, and Rassa was the least likely to be disturbed.

When he wasn't in the usual routine of eating, reading, sleeping, occasionally taking a lesson and then reading some more, Rassa was exposed to various gossips of whatever Guild Master Dannefor or the Scholar, Erik Loch, brought in their attempt to get to know him better. The most interesting gossip they brought was about the line of succession for the Empire's throne. Apparently the rumour was that the entire Kildare family was struggling for heirs, and their children were only getting older. Of course, Rassa didn't really place much of his time worrying about such things, he had more obvious problems to deal with after all. Still, he couldn't help but wonder what would happen if the rumours were true. If the Kildare line were to die out like some predicted.

The most obvious thing that would occur was another period of war. The Kildares had been the basis of power in the Empire for over a thousand years, but below them were several squabbling families and factions that waited for their chance. Victor, unsurprisingly, thought it was a folly of humans to rely so heavily on bloodline succession.

In comparison, Victor had shown Rassa how the Vampire Covens had once governed. The Head of each Coven was considered royalty in their own right as whatever they said was law. But in terms of the Vampire race as a whole, there was a council of thirteen Covens. These Covens were the originals, and beneath them were several sub-covens that had grown as a result of their increased population and their inherent need to seek fresher pastures. Rassa had seen the value in the system as soon as he'd seen it, though it was clear that it was also a system that was easily corrupted. Vampires were selfish beings after all, in it for themselves and their Covens. In conclusion, it seemed that in both ancient times and now, nobody could really agree on a form of governance that worked and benefited everyone.

Arita entered then, leading in a small goat. Rassa turned, and the goat dug its hooves in. They were learning he was a predator, and they were the prey.

"Come here you silly thing, he won't kill you!" snapped Arita, trying to handle it closer to Rassa.

Rassa sighed, "Evening".

Arita grunted in response, finally shoving the goat close enough that Rassa could grab it. He hated being slower than before, he felt like it was one massive joke having these chains sucking his strength from him.

Arita sighed and leaned back against a nearby bench as she watched Rassa wrestle with the goat then sink his fangs into its neck.

Like he'd been doing since he'd realised he was capable of doing it, Rassa searched for that part of himself that could influence what his prey was feeling. He'd reach for an emotion of his own and try to force it upon his prey. Try to inject it, but every time he failed.

This time was no different. The goat was still terrified and in pain. Rassa withdrew and licked the wound closed then grumbled as he turned back to the bed.

"You don't seem to be in a good mood," Arita commented as she waited for the goat to regain its ability to move.

Rassa sighed, "Exactly when have you ever seen me in a good mood?"

Arita looked away awkwardly as she led the goat back towards the door, the goat pretty damn eager to lead the way this time, "You're right, but there are times when you're more…approachable that others".

Rassa hesitated a moment before he spoke, it wasn't like she'd been anything but nice to him...except for the chains, but he didn't blame her for that, "Anyone would become less approachable after being kept like a lab rat for long enough. I find it sickening that my mouth waters every time I hear the clinking of a bell. That's what I've been reduced to, waiting for a bell to decide when it's meal time," Rassa said.

Sometimes, Arita couldn't help but feel that Rassa was well beyond his years.

"Would you leave, I need some peace and quiet".

And yet other times, he was just so damn rude. Still, she couldn't blame him for that, "Do you need something else to read by the way?"

She pointed at the stack of books by Rassa's bedside.

"Not until morning," Rassa replied. Despite his boredom, he figured he'd take a break tonight. Besides, he was expecting Victor to awaken soon for another lesson.

Arita nodded as the goat practically head butted the door to get out, "I'll see you in the morning then".

"How's Jane?" asked Rassa.

Arita paused, looking back at the boy as her arm was practically nearly ripped from it's socket by the over-eager goat, "We have yet to receive word but she should be in Barday by now, so I'm sure she's fine".

Rassa just nodded.

Arita left, and Rassa began to drift off to sleep, only to find himself with the foreboding sense that something was wrong. Somebody was watching him. He tested his senses, subtly so that nobody would notice, and pinpointed three figures looking down on him from the high windows on the roof of the laboratory. They were surprisingly hard for Rassa to pin down, their movements blending with the shadows. But one of the three had eventually given himself away with his lesser grace. He was much younger and much less well-trained than the other two.

Their presence was unwelcome, and it was clear they were interested in Rassa by the way they watched him. But still, questions filled Rassa's head.

Why were they interested in him? Who had sent them? And, if they succeeded, what would become of him?