Through the ghoul-guarded gateways of slumber,

Past the wan-mooned abysses of night,

I have lived o'er my lives without number,

I have sounded all things with my sight;

And I struggle and shriek ere the daybreak, being driven to madness with fright.

H.P. Lovecraft, Nemesis (Excerpt)

Meanwhile inside an empty house somewhere in the northern dock area.

Iseret was breathing shallowly as blood still dripped from her clothes. The wounds on her body had mostly been bound or stabilized by magic. Vanessa had found some quilts that looked serviceable and tried to make her more comfortable.

Finally, they had a moment's peace. Outside some distant explosions could be heard that attested to the still ongoing battle.

“Tenacious bastard.” Vanessa remarked dryly and then addressed the still form of Iseret, shadows obscured most of her features, and the dim light from outside painted soft streaks of grey over everything, “What did you mean by this?”

“This?”

Vanessa sat up and propped her chin on the back of her hand, “Don’t play coy with me.”

“I did not think I would survive to reach shelter so I was selfish. Forgive me.”

“That’s no real answer you know?”

“I...wanted to see what it was like I suppose. And I do find you fascinating.” She was silent for a moment. “I have only a quarter of the old blood, just enough to be a warrior protecting the faith. So I can still feel. The pure ones don’t understand those soft emotions anymore. Oh, they have loyalty, fear, hate but even those are muted. The cold blood does not lend itself to ‘hot’ passions.”

Vanessa looked away embarrassedly, “We will have to leave in about an hour, the spell I cast to obscure our tracks will lose effectiveness by then. We can only thank the snowy weather that no one has found us yet.”

“And now you are changing the subject.” Iseret coughed weakly and blood-spattered the quilt.

“Do you have any potions left?”

“No, sadly I have used them all.”

“Then we will have to leave sooner.”

“...and we will be caught. Don’t think they will let us live after blowing that matter sky high. You a vampire and I a foreign slave.” She chuckled before being interrupted by another coughing fit.

“I could open a portal to another plane. But it would be highly dangerous for you.”

“Could it be worse than dying in this squalid living room or out in the streets?”

“Mh. Do you have to ask? But it is not as certain as remaining here so…”

“Do it. I am not in the habit of giving in without a fight.” Iseret’s slit eyes captured Vanessa’s.

Getting up she shoved the furniture against the wall and smoothed the floor with a gesture and some spoken words. Wood shavings disintegrated into fine dust. Then she began to carve sigils and runes with her claws.

The fighting outside seemed to have stopped and for a time all was quiet. Then she heard a commotion from farther up the street as a door was violently forced open and shouting commenced that was then succeeded by pained screams. A voice bellowed, “City guard! Open your door or face the consequences.” A hammering of gauntleted fist against wooden door followed.

“Come here. Can you sit up?” Vanessa whispered.

Iseret gave a nod and then forced herself upright, face twisted in pain while suppressing a groan.

The smaller girl helped her stagger into the middle of the runic circle. “Take the quilt with you, it’s cold where we are going.”

“Do I want to know?” Iseret lifted an eyebrow.

“Probably not. It’s the astral plane. But we will only stay until I regain my strength to open the gate back to my domicile.”

Iseret gave a worried frown but nodded. “What little I have heard of that place was nothing good. But I trust you know what you are doing.”

Weeping and shouting could be heard as several people were dragged outside the house diagonally opposite the one they were occupying.

Vanessa spoke a short spell and silence descended as all sound was cut off. Then she began a lengthy incantation. The words were hurtful to the ear and would probably damage a living throat.

The door to the living room was opened and a guardsman stood there illuminated by a lantern his other hand held a flanged mace. He seemed to be shouting something but no sound reached their ears. Iseret huddled inside the circle the quilt covering her features.

The guard slowly entered the room still shouting something. Two others entered behind him one of them armed with a crossbow. They seemed to be debating something and as they reached an accord the one with the ranged weapon nodded and aimed before losing the quarrel. Iseret tensed hissing with pain as she prepared to either receive or block the bolt.

The world was bathed in grey light as reality fractured and they were sucked into a darkling void.

Inside the palace.

Vilander Andrealphus Constantin von Margrinar protector of humanity, successor of fallen Allisair, holder of the one blade looked deathly tired. He stood before the bier upon which his son was placed after it was apparent that he could not be saved. Carl Askander and the eldest daughter Nimeria stood to one side while Lieseleta remained on the other. Her sister Keralia was married to Count Grandherst and no longer present in the palace. The memorial hall featured paintings and statues depicting the kings and queens of old. Gesserach presided in all his golden glory over the resting dead. Beside him stood Meloris keeper of the past and Charys the drinker of tears.

The cold was suffocating, window slits open to the outside let a breeze laden with frost flow through the cavernous hall. Old banners flapped in the breeze. Oldfashioned braziers held glowing embers flaring with the gusts.

The building was situated on the rocky slopes of the highest hill bordering the river it was not technically a part of the palace or the city anymore. The king felt the old wards thrumming underneath the polished granite stones forming patterns and pictures of mythical heroes and ancient stories.

The king raised his head and looked each of his children in the eye. Nimeria held his gaze before looking down. Carl was defiant as always but was there a flash of guilt? Lieseleta looked pale and drawn herself. Her gaze mirrored his grief.

“For those of you who do not, for whatever reason, know. Thomas was killed by poison. All our efforts and security measures were not enough.” He sighed deeply. “Regarding the succession, I will confer with my advisors.” He gave a warning glance at Carl who had opened his mouth to interrupt. “And if it is found that one of you had a hand in Thomas's death.” He let his words trail off before continuing. “Let us hope it does not come to that.”

The wind howled and snowflakes drifted into the hall. But the frost outside was no match for the cold desolation within.

The study of the third minister of the high chamber.

A letter lay on the desk of a forgotten study written within the desire for an engagement of the third daughter of Mithras Nordmark to Carl Askander von Margrinar.

A room in the lower city, southside docks.

A cold haughty face looked at the window, craggy features shifted as a cold smile lifted the corners of a thin-lipped mouth. Tharus Iram von den Zwei Brücken put down the pen he was holding and folded his hands as if in prayer. The old vampire looked to the northwest where like a blaze of unending cold his mistress reigned. As it had been for countless years and nights she was his guiding light. She was called the Heartstealer by enemy and ally alike a name that held both pride and shame. He had been very busy as of late. No longer did he wait in the frozen halls and gazed at the art of a vanished people as the seasons passed him by. He did not know what had roused the Lich Queen but he was doing her bidding. Flitting here and there beguiling and killing he had brought the house of Nordmark to her cause and now they stood to gain from the investment.

He should have personally handled the von Graufurt matter. It was a small stain on his impeccable achievements but a stain nonetheless. He would just have to wait and see. After tonight he needed to keep a lower profile and take care, it would not do to expose a pawn too early.

As the windowpane rattled with a gust of wind the condensation formed agonized faces screaming for relief.

Tharus Iram von den Zwei Brücken smiled and with a gesture the faces dissolved into flowers of ice.

The astral plane, Road of Ashen Dreams.

With a sound like ripping flesh, a tear opened and spilled two people into the dark grey dust. Rolling down the side of a dune they came to rest against a metallic tree, bare branches stark against the scintillating stars of dimensional breaches high up in the sky.

Iseret tried to breathe and her labored gasps turned more frantic as the dusty, dead air gave her no succor. Vanessa looked at her and panicked realization flashed in her eyes. She chanted a quick spell and gestured glyphs into being. Then she grabbed her friend and pressed their mouths together breathing fresh air infused with a bloody scent into tortured lungs. Her eyes tried to convey her intention to the snake-woman who nodded without letting go.

Breathing deeply Iseret furrowed her brows in pain and Vanessa quickly smoothed an area before beginning the laborious task of inscribing several magical circles. She stopped every few minutes to give her companion fresh air. As time passed Iseret swayed and held her mouth with both hands before sagging in a faint.

Vanessa activated the runes with a few crystals and chanted spells. Wind began to blow in dancing devils made of dust. She grabbed the limp form of her friend and dragged her into the whirling clouds of air. And as she began to despair Iseret gasped and breathed again.

With a final gesture, a dome of force sprang into being and enclosed the meticulously designed spells.

“Did you…” Iseret coughed violently, “...forget I had to breathe?” She looked at Vanessa incredulously.

“I never had that problem! When I was alive it was the furthest thing from my mind to venture into the planes! I...am sorry.”

“If you seek excuses to kiss me then simply ask next time.” Mischief glinted in Iseret’s eyes as she sank back to rest on the ground.

Vanessa turned away and held her right hand before her eyes massaging her forehead. “Thank you for trying to cheer me up.”

“You did everything you could. I am astonishingly still alive.”

They sat in the darkness of the force globe and if it were not for the glowing eyes of Vanessa there would be no light at all.

“It’s cold.” Iseret shuddered. After nearly suffocating in the dry dusty air she felt like the cold was crawling deep into her body.

“I am sorry.” Vanessa took the quilt they had brought and covered Iseret with it, then she said in a rush, “I cannot help properly as I lack body warmth. And I am very bad with fire magic.” If she could still blush she would have at that moment.

“Sh. Let’s pretend that were not the case.” Iseret sat down behind Vanessa and leaned against her back. “It’s much more comfortable that way.”

And they sat for a long time while the mortal woman fell into a fitful sleep. Vanessa laid her on her knees and looked at the sleeping figure. ‘What do I think, what do I want? Can I want something?’ Hunger for the spilled blood of her friend stabbed into her throat and stomach like a serrated knife but she endured.

Her magic regenerated quickly in the mana-rich surroundings and she softly put Iseret back down on the dusty ground before beginning the painstaking work of inscribing another circle. This time to bring them back.