“Sol, we’re here to get your back… Sol? What are you doing? Are you sucking the vampire’s blood?” Alaric demanded in shock.

Sol continued to drain Valamir as he redirected his gaze toward his friend’s arrival. As the blood moved down his throat, pain engulfed him where it passed. A burning sensation spread out from his stomach to his extremities. The pain was quickly replaced by a tingling sensation and rush of nauseating energy.

What’s going on? I don’t have control of my body and the room feels like it spinning. I can feel new strength coursing through me. But why does it feel so repulsive? It’s Valamir’s blood. It’s doing something to me. This feeling is familiar except much more potent. It’s the same as the thin-blood who turned me. I can notice it because it’s exponentially more concentrated now...

Sol’s thoughts were interrupted by a bout of convulsing from the weakened Valamir. He coughed out a mouthful of blood while reaching feebly toward Alaric. Alaric halted in the artificial opening to the room. He balanced precariously on a pile of rubble, steadying himself against the wall with a hand. Standing behind him was a muscular man Sol didn’t recognise holding a heavy club. The man had red hair and a thick beard and looked to be in his mid-thirties. The pair were equally bloodied with minor cuts and bruises visible.

It seems Alaric was able to handle the thralls. I hope the scent of blood hasn’t drawn something’s attention. If any thralls are on watch nearby, they may have also alerted Clan Sanguine. We need to escape from here. Soon.

Sol’s response died in his throat as his body stiffened and started trembling. His gaze grew unfocused as fragmented images appeared in his mind. His jaw slackened as Valamir crumpled lifelessly from his limp grasp. Alaric rushed to Sol’s side and shook his shoulders. Sol couldn’t hear his words as he became submerged in a vision.

***

A scene overwhelmed his senses. Sol knew he was reliving a recent memory belonging to Valamir. He now stood inside an immaculate study with elegant tinted glass windows with the sun beginning to disappear over the horizon. He felt mild discomfort from the filtered sunlight on his skin, causing him to uncomfortably shift in an attempt to avoid the setting sun. Blocking the window was a silhouette of an imposing man facing the deepening twilight. The man glanced over his shoulder in annoyance at Valamir’s disturbance.

“Valamir, you will leave to collect the chosen dockworkers immediately. The sun is low enough for you to endure, or do you disagree?” the man rhetorically asked. He looked at Valamir with a cocked eyebrow, causing Valamir to tense.

“No, my lord. I will leave directly,” Valamir quickly stammered in reply.

“Excellent. The men have been selected for their exceptional performance. Allow no interference in their delivery to the harbour. I will accept no excuses for any harm that befalls. Tonight is our last night of leniency to get back on schedule for the Ivory Palace construction. The Queen’s envoy will arrive before daybreak. Things will become unpleasant for us if they are not satisfied with our efforts. I’m sure you understand the implications for yourself, yes?” the man dangerously asked. Valamir flinched at the question.

“Of course, my lord,” Valamir deferentially responded.

“Very good. I trust you will not fail me, Valamir. Go now,” the man approved, turning to reveal his appearance in the last rays of sunlight.

The man towered in height with a muscular physique, easily a head higher than Valamir who was taller than average. He was dressed in extravagant clothing made from the finest materials. He had jet black hair slicked back into a ponytail with thick sideburns and a clean-shaven jawline. He forcibly met Valamir’s fearful gaze. He had piercing eyes that seemed to glow with red light from inside. Valamir bowed low in obedience, backing out of the room with his gaze lowered. The vision faded as the man turned back to gaze out the window with his hands clasped behind his back.

***

“Sol! Sol! Wake up. We have to get out of here right now!” Alaric shouted in panic. He was violently shaking Sol’s shoulders. Noticing Sol beginning to respond, Alaric slapped his face to rouse him.

“Ouch. What was that for?” Sol asked, reaching up to rub his cheek.

“Demon flyers are arriving overhead from the direction of the harbour. Something big's happening. We have to get Bryant’s family away before Clan Sanguine sends out a patrol to investigate,” Alaric exclaimed. Sol could hear his excited heartbeat pounding in his ears.

“The Queen’s envoy arrives tonight. The flyers are likely scouts. Clan Sanguine hasn’t got the resources to send out a patrol,” Sol distractedly responded.

He got a strong sense from Valamir’s memories that Clan Sanguine wouldn’t be coming to investigate their disappearance. He looked over Alaric’s shoulders to see the burly bearded man from earlier rushing toward them with a woman carrying a swaddled baby in tow. He held his bloodied club from earlier in one hand and a toddler of no older than three, in the other.

He must be Bryant. He seems to be handy in a fight, considering that he didn’t hesitate to back Alaric up against the thralls. It seems the Lord has brought us together.

Sol was able to see their appearances with perfect clarity despite the darkness of night. The man stood equal height with Sol but had twice the width. He was dressed similar to Alaric with a grim expression on his face. He had unruly ginger hair contrasted by a well-groomed heavy beard reaching his chest that had been recently combed.

The woman looked tired. She had blackened eyes and extra water weight. It was obvious she had only given birth very recently and was still recovering. Her blonde locks were hidden beneath the hood of the cloak she had draped over herself and the baby. She was a few years younger than her lover. She had the weathered plain appearance of a woman used to hard labour. The exception was her eyes. They were a striking electric blue bright with intelligence.

The toddler was a small girl who looked very similar to her mother but with her father’s red hair. It was unclear who the newborn child would take after.

“Sol, this is Bryant and his wife, Helchen. His two girls are Amelie and Aleyda. They already know who you are,” Alaric made introductions between the two groups. The married couple was watching Sol warily. He could smell their fear.

“May I?” Sol politely asked gesturing behind him. They all looked at him curiously before hesitantly nodding.

Sol crouched down beside Valamir’s body. Using his body to shield his actions, he retrieved the silver sunburst of the Lord. He cleaned the blood from it on Valamir’s shirt before standing. He stood then began to walk toward the family. Helchen recoiled away while Bryant aggressively stepped toward him in a warning.

“Peace. Keep hold of this for me until we get somewhere safe,” Sol placated while holding up an empty palm. He slowly walked Helchen who shifted nervously at his approach. He reached town to fold back the cloth swaddling the newborn, tucking the silver sunburst inside before stepping away.

“Is that silver?” Helchen asked in shock. Bryant also gawked with an expression of disbelief.

“Yes. The Lord will keep your daughter safe,” Sol affirmed with a nod.