A wild goose chase. That's all it had been. From a tree, Cendric had watched the two idiots fumble into the ruins, timid and unsure like virgins. When they disappeared out of sight, he knew he made the wrong choice. He should have gone with them, in ruins as old as these, there were more than a dozen entrances or tunnels the three of them could have used. And under all this darkness, it was virtually impossible to cover all paths of escape, the same for hiding places, even with a full moon. So what really were the chances of there being a group of people waiting to ambush them in the middle of the night?

'Slim to none.' He thought as he climbed down the tree and snuck after the teens, Cendric used his blessing, increasing his speed in short bursts. The gift had its limitations, prolonged duration meant a smaller range and tiring out more. Sure it could cover his blindsides, but that didn't mean Cendric could react or pay attention to multiple attacks all at once.

[Bodhem's blood, where the hell is the fire they're supposed to light?]

It wasn't just a beacon to attract their imaginary thieves like moths, Cendric needed the light to find his party. He felt silly sulking through the rubble and half disintegrated buildings. It went on like this for an hour, Cendric had just finished scaling the collapsed ramparts of a wall when he heard a great rumbling. The stone under his feet rattled in tandem, some 30 yards away, a mushroom cloud rose up. Caught off guard, Cendric lost his precarious footing, skidding down a pile of rocks. He pick himself off and looked up at the sky. A mix of ash, dust, and smoke bloomed out from a massive hole made in the turret a tower. The sky-high building looked like a massively lit candlestick. The fire Cendric had asked for, finally came.

When Cendric arrived, he saw a scene of fire and brimstone described straight out of scripture. The sky was bathed in ashes and ember, with the top of the tower a portal to the Seven Hell's. Which one? He didn't know. The Knight Seeker wasn't much of a religious man, not with the things he'd witnessed and done. It's a big world, and the Old Empire's highways were far and wide. The seeker snapped back to reality. A fire was burning atop the tower, and he needed to find his companions. His eyes traveled down the tower, stopping some feet away from the entrance. A figure lay bent crouched over something, a body.

[I need to know with my own eyes.]

Cendric could care less about Lannus, he needed to see if the whelp was dead. The brat was annoyingly naive and too polite. And the reasons surrounding his knighthood were flimsy at best, someone was behind the scenes, Cendric was sure of it. But he used most of his funds for what he had in-store for the whelp. It was all or nothing, Cendrics' freedom depended on Leondre, this was the closest he would get to his dream.

[Damnit whelp, if you're going to die. Have the fucking courtesy to stay alive so I can end you myself.]

Step by step his feet moved mechanically like a windup toy, the grass crunched underneath him leaving imprints, springing forth seconds later. Squinting he could make out now, strands of silver-white hair hovering intimately over jet-black curls. 'Whos the girl?' He thought, realizing something wasn't right. Was he wrong about there being no ambushers? Cendric swore silently, too many unknowns and not enough information, the situation had gone to hell. He broke into a sprint discarding caution for a quick getaway, now that is was Leondre he definitely saw lying there.

[If the brats alive, perfect. I'm dragging his behind with me. Otherwise, I'm fucked, more than Ygritt will be.]

But as Cendric ran closer, his eyes narrowed on the ashen grey Leondre and the pale mouth caressing his throat. Fangs, eerily incandescent like finely honed diamonds, emitted a strange blue glow beneath the moonlight. The tips, jutting under smooth, plump lips, were darker than normal, smeared with blood. Cendric abruptly stopped, but it was too late. She stood up, the ashen pale girl, aware of his presence. Black arrow slits watched him through yellow eyes.

“Daemon.” Cendric spat out, the word leaving a foul taste in his mouth. The soft hiss of iron against wood-lined cloth followed suit. Wordlessly, like a snake coiled ready to pounce, he sprung forth, closing the gap. Armed with only tooth and claw, the pale girl met his charge head-on. Cendric quirked his brow, puzzled by her choice, but soon a harsh veneer of cold, rational calm blanketed over him.

Jab. Swipe. Parry. Block.

Their movements flowed in a series of languid steps with her leading the dance, it becomes apparent who the better of the two are, but Cendric offset this by making great use of his reach, slowly driving her back. Shadows moved from the corner of his eye, and suddenly, she is gone. Cendric jerked to the side, bringing his sword around, in time to avoid her claws ripping his throat. The blade connected, drawing a fine line across her cheek, and the two combatants circled each other warily.

"You are endowed." Her voice was deceptively gentle, almost sweet, for something so vicious. Wiping the blood off her cheek as she licked her hand, the ashen pale girl retreated several feet in the air. When she rose, the moon had lit her face, revealing flawless cheeks. The cut from before had disappeared.

Cendric said nothing. He cautiously stepped backward, edging himself closer to the figure lying, prone, on the grass. From an outsider's perspective, Cendric appeared slightly injured but untired, poised in a guard stance. In reality, the fighting was taking a toll on him. His advantage laid in the armings swords reach, but the daemon was nimble in her actions, quicker to react, and relentless. Even with his blessing, there was no chance of keeping up. And she didn't look to be tiring, in comparison to Cendrics dwindling reserves.

[Should I run for it? No. The grass is too open here, no cover. Think. She drained most of his blood, so why stay and fight? Food. Prey. What?]

Cendric glanced at the daemon several meters away, her eyes kept darting back from him to Leondre's body. Curiously, she made no indication to move, almost like she was afraid. He withdrew back several steps until he noticed her fingers beginning to twitch. His instincts told him any further, and she would attack.

[The bitch is protecting the whelp, why?]

Then it hit him. She didn't know he was here for the boy, Cendric thought, or they were in a party together. He had snuck up and interrupted whatever she was doing with Leondre, and attacked. His inner mind accepted this revelation and began formulating a plan.

"Daemon, I know you can understand me. You are afraid for the boy, why?" Silence met his question. With a sign, Cendric drew his dagger, caressing the edge as he spoke again.

"...Aye, fast that you are. Inhumanly too. Suppose I threw this dagger, see?" A glint of steel waved before his hands, "Could you stop it?" He said quietly, gesturing to Leondre behind him.

"Vrykolas. Not a daemon. Vrykolas." A powerful, velvety, voice said across from him.

"Aye, daemon, vrykolas, I don't ca're what you are. Back to the Seven Hell's or cursed forest, ya crawled from. The boy's with m'ae." Cendric immediately regretted his choice of words, because the moment those they left his mouth, there was a chill in the atmosphere. The warrior within him rose from beneath the reeds, half-submerged, sharpening its knife, waiting patiently as the air around them grew heavy with blood lust. While the survivor, which had calmly been drawing plans every step of the way, dropped everything and made a mad dash for the hills.

"I don't share." The girl didn't growl or bare her fangs. No, her expression remained the same, detached, and always with that reptilian gaze. All she did was tilt her head, and study him intently as a cat might do with mice. "This blood of yours. It’s endowed like his, nutritious, but also similar. You are related, no?” She paced back and forth, nodding to herself as if confirming it. The immense aura radiating off her disappeared, and the atmosphere felt a little cooler. Cendric found himself exhaling in relief, the daemon seemed less interested in killing him than before.

"Go human, take the boy. Save your bloodtribe, for if he dies, you will join him." She spoke, staring at motionless teen past Cendric. For the first time since their fight began, something flickered across her face, it almost looked human. The girl turned her back, and Cendric watched as the shadow behind her began to distort, then disappear along with its owner.