“Illian’s harried plan to sacrifice the outpost for the beasts was unexpected, but not unwise. The outpost was not far enough from the city to escape discovery once Illian betrayed his king and more loyal subjects took over his sweeps of the Issurak. It’s apparent discovery and destruction served as a valuable distraction from the animus of the beasts, dividing Alti’s attentions between two groups of enemies, one of which might exist within the king’s great wall. Perhaps most importantly, it allowed Illian to claim it was rebels who had kidnapped Cevora, rather than the beasts.”

~ Bek Trent, M.A.S.O

Cold; that was all Silver felt of the world around her. She was not sure where it came from. There was a chill, certainly, beyond the open shutters of her window. Snow fell, thick flakes that drifted slowly in the hush. It had been falling for who knew how long, and she had been watching it, curled up in the alcove nestled into the window sill, for just as long. But the chill could not pass her magical barrier, and she had never once let it drop.

Silver blinked, green eyes dark with recollection. Her chin rested against the palm of her hand, elbow propped against the stone. Hair hung loose around her face, gently combed. Beyond the snow, she could not see anything. Just the trees; the trees of a great forest where nothing lived. Emptiness. Silence. Stillness.

It had been a long time since she felt so peaceful. How long, she could not say. Just that it had been a long, long time.

Breathing in slowly, she tasted the snow in the air, and a slow smile curled her lips. Sometimes, she daydreamed as she stared out into the snow. Fantastic stories of Zara and wolves and dragons. Fire leapt through her mind’s eye, but always the snow fell just out of reach. Changeless.

Until something changed.

She sensed it in the same way she sensed magic. Just beyond the window, the air stirred with the warmth of a foreign breeze. Surprised, Silver lifted her chin from her hand, staring speculatively into the world. After a moment, she waved her hand, releasing the barrier, and pushed herself up to hang her head out the window. Her hair fell around her face, the snow settling, frigid, on her scalp. North; it had come from the North. But what…?

For an instant, she closed her eyes, and when she opened them again, the room was gone. She stood abruptly in the snow, booted feet sinking into the top layer of powder. In front of her was a fence, somewhere in the middle of nowhere. And trees. Twisting around, she stared behind her. More trees. And spread before them, the shores of a lake, its waters black and eerily still. Overhead, the sky was like a cage, flat steel that spread into eternity. There were no footprints to tell her where she had come from.

“Finally, we meet,” a voice echoed from nearby. Silver turned slowly towards the sound. She found not a person, as she had expected, but a crow. It fixed her with beady black eyes, cocking its head as if doing so could somehow give it a clearer picture of what it had found. Silver said nothing, but the beast did not seem to care. It clacked its beak, never moving from the fence post where it had landed.

“There is a legend about the stars; the stars that fell to earth. These were not angels, nor celestial beings, but the kings of the heavens. These were the keliarn. Milky furred messengers of magic and dreams, their eyes glimmered with the light of the stars, and their powers were of a different kind from those of flesh and blood. If they turned towards the skies, swan-feather wings bore them up into the clouds. If they turned to the earth, it was as if their wings were no more. As ghosts, they flitted from soul to soul, peering deeply into the hearts of the living.”

The crow paused to clack its beak at her, before continuing.

“It was these beasts that first bade the dragons live alongside man. It was these beasts that first cursed eternity…for they were too close to the living, but could never be among them. And, king among their kind, they were, nonetheless, king only in word.”

Silence passed between them for a moment. Neither of them filled the hush, but let it swell, rich with the hiss of the snowfall.

“Do you understand, being of flesh and blood?” the crow finally asked.

“I don’t,” Silver said after a moment. The crow met her gaze, and for an instant, she had the impression that its eyes were not black as she had thought. One sapphire blue, one gold. The bird spread its wings.

Silver’s mind slipped in and out of focus. Around her, the world seemed to fade, the chill growing sharper. Forefront, there was the dream, but now there were other things as well. Nestling among the couch cushions, reading a book next to her brother and sister; traipsing through a snow-clad forest; the sword in her hand in the dead of night, surrounded by trees; sitting around the dinner table...warmth, familiarity, happiness. Contentment, but never peace. She was troubled, restless, searching for something that eluded her time and again.

And then, the crow. It was flying towards her, passing her in the direction of the lake. Silver turned with it, black feathers filling her vision.

“You will,” it promised.

What did it mean? Silver had no idea. She only knew that a deep foreboding filled her, the tug of dread in the pit of her stomach. Her broken dreams were fading as the fuzziness in her mind began to recede, cleared by the relentless trickle of what she thought was water down her back and arms. And the warmth of living things.

Silver’s body shivered again, and she felt an arm around her waist, holding her close. She knew who it was, though her mind flickered away from that knowledge, distracted by the press of scales against her arms. These were warm, lit from beneath with a fiery heat. Seijelar. Her mind reached out as she let her senses wander around her, touching on the two closest and most familiar minds; Elorian and her hatchling dragon. The arm around her waist stiffened, as if sensing her waking mind. Bek.

Memory and awareness flooded back into her as the wolf huffed an exploratory question. The dragon’s endless chatter filled her mind, angry and then questing, prompting, pleading.

“Silver.”

It was Bek’s voice. She felt his hand on her shoulder, and then he was shaking her gently, as if that alone could root her wandering consciousness back into her flesh. It felt like she had been asleep for days. Her joints were stiff and cold, the dampness of her clothing a cloying weight that grew worse with each drop of rain. Only Zeharial's necklace, still draped around her neck, was warm. Bek could use magic. He could have at least kept her dry.

She tried to frown then, feeling the stiffness in her face even as Seijelar explained why he had not used his power. They were running. But from what?

“Silver, we need you to be alert now. I might have a hard time protecting the both of us.” This last was whispered in her ear, so close it tickled. The wolf’s urgings were more insistent, the dragon’s attention suddenly elsewhere. Seijelar seemed to be having trouble speaking to her, but she had some sense of what was happening.

Different magic, different people. No – not just different, warped. Wrong. Their magic was stagnant, thick in her senses. Silver could not explain the feeling, only the eeriness behind it. It was like a beacon to her, empty, cold, and broken.

Like the Zara.

A sudden hush fell over their band of humans and dragons. Silver had not noticed the noise until it was gone. Now there was only the rainfall, and the wind, and the low, grating snarls of the wolf. Still unable to force her eyes open, she hung between sleep and waking, clinging to the senses that remained to her. Damp earth, cold stone, unfamiliar scents. Soft, slow footsteps, gentle as a panther’s tread over the leaf littered earth.

“You have one of ours.”

Every nerve in her body shot white-hot fire. The voice was deep, gravelly, and utterly unfamiliar. It was a predator’s voice, low, threatening – the kind that belonged to someone who had fought too many times for their survival at the hands of humans, not beasts. She could sense behind his breath the same grating snarl that the wolf still let bubble forth from its chest.

“Silver, now would be an excellent time to get up,” Bek pleaded so softly she was sure no one else could hear. His words sent prickles of fear up and down her spine, but her fingers, her arms, her legs were lead. Only her fear proved to her that she was conscious at all. She wanted back. Back to the silent room, the snow, the phantom chill.

The footsteps were drawing nearer. Silver heard people moving out of the way hurriedly.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re here because we have nowhere else to go. It was my mother who first sought you…” Cevora’s voice rang out from much nearer than the footsteps. Silver felt the woman must be blocking someone’s way. At the thought that the predator might be coming in her direction, Silver’s heart began to respond to her fear, thundering in her ears, driving the cold away from her skin and the leaden weight away from her limbs.

“I will speak to you gladly after hearing what she has to say,” the predator answered.

The tension mounted as the hush deepened. Bek must have given up on waking her, because she knew he had turned his gaze away, and he no longer held her shoulder.

“Please understand. These two are in my charge. I’m afraid I can’t permit you to go near them until we have come to some sort of agreement.”

“As we have, my dear woman. You have one of ours. Step aside now, and all will pass safely here once we’ve spoken. It is your safety, not hers, about which you should worry.” The man certainly spoke with the same practiced eloquence as the princess, but it seemed he had had enough of words. There was more shuffling around them.

“Cevora.” Silver could imagine the woman turning her head slowly, loath to look away from the obvious threat before them and at Bek. “Let him through,” Bek said softly.

She heard Cevora exhale angrily through her teeth, but then the woman was moving aside. The footsteps approached further. Silver counted five long strides. Bek’s entire body was tensed; she could feel it where his arm and chest touched her, though his breathing remained dangerously even.

Silence. Her mind screamed into it, hating it for how little it told her of the world she could not see. But the eternity that passed in her blind mind was seconds in reality, and soon she could feel the predator’s breath on the air, frosty in the cold. His body heat radiated in waves, but his scent was only of the earth and something similar to the wolf, musky and damp and animal.

Silver sensed rather than felt his hand extend towards her, and in a flash, the magic fire surged through her veins again. The fuzziness in her mind dissipated, replaced by the shock of adrenaline and the precise and unthinking sense of motion. Her fingers gripped cold, rain slick skin even as she was thinking to raise her arm, and her eyes were open, staring deep into his.

As she had expected, it was her first time seeing him. Tall, lean but incredibly strong, he loomed over her. His skin was pale, his hair faintly curly, darkened considerably by the rain. Wet, it hugged his head closely, but somehow still looked…elegant. Or so she thought. That might have been because of his face, his high cheekbones and perfectly straight nose – features that just barely ranged on the side of handsome rather than delicate. His eyes, however, were a deep gold beneath his dark lashes, deeper than the darkest well bored straight to the earth’s very core.

Right now, they registered supreme surprise.

She felt her grip tighten automatically until her nails dug into his skin, almost to the point of drawing blood. Something stopped her there. She narrowed her eyes, not sure what to make of the man who met her gaze more evenly the longer she regarded him. His cool was rapidly returning, so rapidly that she did not have the chance to blink even once before he was starting to twist away from her grip, leaning forward. Her green eyes caught the glint of fangs just barely concealed behind his lips, and in that instant, a more primal fear kicked in.

She snarled something barely discernible and slammed her other palm into his chest as hard as she could. The force of the motion sent him flying backwards, twenty feet through the air. He skidded to a halt in the mud, lying on his back and trying to prop himself up on one elbow.

Silver did not have a moment to be surprised, nor to care that her strength was due to her magic and that she had never used it like that before. One more blink, and she was on her feet in the mud beside Seijelar, somehow disentangling herself from Bek, aware of the dragon’s warning growl. Elorian made no such warning. The wolf simply came to stand at her right side.

As it should be.

As it had always been.

Before she could stop herself, she was already passed Cevora, already halting at the very edge of what a cursory glance told her was a town or village of some sort, chipped from a crumbled pile of moss-coated stones. There was an arch, just as there had been at the outpost, though it was grooved and cracked and barely the width of her arm at its thinnest points. The earth beyond it was paved with flagstone and mud, and in some places, overgrown with grasses and flowering weeds.

But she did not care about the world around them. Her eyes were all for the man who was only slowly regaining his composure. He had not gotten up. She was still a good two yards away, but glaring down at him nonetheless. Everything about him frightened her; his fangs, his eyes, the cold, predatory nature of his magic. In her mind, they all meant only one thing. Her eyes continued to pin him down as her mind worked furiously, screaming one word over and over; vampire.

And he had tried to bite her.

Fear had paralyzed her mind a moment, but it was blossoming quickly into rage. Was this what Cevora had been searching for? Was this what had killed the queen? Monsters that hid deep within the heart of the Issurak, threatening to steal the blood of unsuspecting travelers? No…the first hint of confusion mingled with her anger – he had wanted to speak to her. He had told Cevora she had one of theirs. And Silver knew who had killed the queen; the dragon hidden deep within the heart of the castle.

Meanwhile, the vampire was still staring at her, as if weighing the wrath and indecision in her gaze to determine which one would win out in the end. It must have been indecision. Very slowly, he was beginning to rise to his feet. Silver felt her body tense, and the wolf’s as well, although some part of her knew that he was moving slowly precisely because he did not want to illicit another unprecedented attack from her. Even so, he hissed softly when he regained his footing, and glared at the lot of them with renewed hostility.

“Silver,” Cevora called sharply. Silver ignored the princess and the fear in her voice, still focusing on the man. It was, surprisingly, a smaller voice behind her that caused her to relax.

“Silver, stop. We should talk to him first. He’s also only protecting his people.” Silver did not turn away from the vampire, but Cara’s words touched the more logical part of her mind, and the anger began to drain from her features.

Silver took half a step back when the vampire approached again, aware from Cara’s words that the man’s comrades were nearby. They were not moving, Seijelar informed her. They were waiting to see what happened, but as the wolf hastily added, the coppery scent of metal meant that they were armed, at least.

“I thought,” the vampire said after a long pause, upraising her doubtfully, “that you were the same as us.”

Silver stared at him for a long moment, unsure how to respond. “I’m not,” she finally settled on explaining, “…like you.”

He looked away for a moment, and then turned back to her, taking another slow step forward. “So I see. I meant only to wake you. I didn’t expect you to react quite so…”

“Explosively,” Bek finished for him wryly.

Bek had also dismounted from Seijelar, it seemed, and was approaching with Cevora and Holtson as if to form a more solid front between the vampire and the people of the outpost. The vampire merely glared at them more fiercely. There was some other emotion behind that glare now, however, Silver sensed; a hunger, perhaps, that had nothing to do with blood.

“I’m sorry,” Silver relented finally, when she was fairly certain that the vampire planned to keep his yard-and-a-half distance from the rest of them. “I just didn’t expect to wake up to that.”

No one expounded on what that was, and it was probably for the best. Instead, Cevora stepped to the head of their procession, reaching into her traveler’s cloak to remove something.

“This,” she began, extending a wet, folded piece of paper thin enough that Silver could see the ink through it towards the vampire, “is how I knew what my mother was looking for. It was her, the queen’s, final wish to seek you out, and she died in doing so. What was it that she sought among the vampires that would save Alti from a war of men and beasts? Tell me.”

Silence. The vampire glanced at the proffered paper with a slight curl of his lip, as if the very thought of what was written upon it disgusted him.

“We have no stake in what befell your people,” he said in a low voice, “but you’re not welcome here. Leave and do not return, or you will meet a most painful demise.”

Silver did her best to keep her face passive when she spoke next. “We don’t have anywhere else to go.”

“The Sacred City, Libertia,” Cevora said calmly, ignoring her.

“Lost City of the Vampires,” the man cut her off with a hiss, “yes, we know what the Altians and Atlantians call it. Old fears die hard, or so I’m told. Lost indeed. Were it that we could never be found.”

“The sanctuary to which the vampires fled to continue their existence,” the princess continued as if she had not been interrupted, “so that they could live avoiding persecution. Are you content with this?”

“Death,” the vampire pointed out bluntly, “not just persecution. We are beasts with human form, people given the guise of life by the blood of the living. There is no place for us in your world.”

“What you are or are not doesn’t concern me. Neither does your sustenance. I have come with the dragons’ blessing, seeking the proof of the Keliarn Agreement that the vampires took with them when they fled Alti.”

“So you know what drove the queen to seek us out with or without my answer,” the vampire hissed.

Silver was aware of the other vampires appearing now within the city. Men, women, children…none of them appeared to be over their forties. They were peering out from windows and doorways, or perched atop the roofs, their eyes darting suspiciously from face to face. More than one gaze was riveted to her and Bek. Perhaps they were attracted to the same sense of abandonment that seemed to permeate their lost city, or maybe by the equally strong sense of purpose shared by the band of outpost escapees. Perhaps they saw in the humans before them the promise of outside contact by people who were willing to call them human again, and even beg for their aid. Outcasts. Or perhaps it was something more.

She shivered.

“You must know what passes outside of the Issurak. The pact is broken, the agreements void. Within the shadows, Zara stir. Even your kind will not be safe. You have, in all history, the most cursed existence. Hated by humans, and dependent on them to continue living. Despised by the beasts for being human, but forced to hide among them to cover your trail,” Cevora’s words were like nails, slammed time and again into the lid of their proverbial coffin, as far as Silver was concerned. The vampire before them was growling dangerously, the predatory light returned to his golden eyes. It seemed only with the greatest effort of will that he continued to listen.

“No one knows from where you came, or how many of your kind there are in the rest of the world. All anyone knows is that each of you carries with you the aura of death, and that you are predators to the humans you claim to be. But,” Cevora withdrew the sodden paper, folding it as gently between her fingers as if it were woven of gold, “like I said, none of that concerns me. I would even change it, given the chance. I ask you only for that which my mother sought to save us all. Even you.”

“It is as the mur have predicted.” Silver turned sharply. As she had thought, she had sensed the tree wolves lurking in the trees, but only now did Sheurai and Yanrian choose to show themselves. “You are a wise alpha, Olrier, intent on protecting your pack, but do not be blinded by the past. The humans before you are the Juran, friends of beasts, and in them both the dragons and the mur have placed their trust.”

Sheurai looked over them all, a single, cursory glance that affirmed her opinion of them. “The end draws near, Olrier. The beasts will follow the one who holds proof of our pact – the proof you possess. Stand with these humans, and seek the greater evil in these woods that has betrayed both our kind and theirs. He has not been brought to justice in these fifteen years.”

“You ask too much,” the vampire growled huskily. Silver felt her eyebrows raise.

“You understand them?” Silver asked.

The vampire looked at her, and then shook his head slowly. “Wolves,” he said,” we understand the wolves. And you…” he trailed off, eyeing her speculatively for a moment, and then returning his sharp gaze to the princess when she spoke again.

“You must see that we fight the same battle,” Cevora announced, staring eye to golden eye with the vampire. The silver dragon had come to stand beside her, Sara staring down at them from its bony spine. “We have all played into the hands of the one who slew the queen. We know he wished for war, because I have spoken to him. But we don’t know why.”

“You’ve spoken to him, you say. And he let you live?” the vampire snarled.

Cevora looked like she was fighting back tears. Scowling, the vampire waved a hand. People began to emerge from the buildings behind them, armed just as the wolf had said, with spears and swords and weapons that Silver had no name for, but that looked just as deadly.

“Hear me out,” Cevora demanded, her eyes flashing, “Our only hope is to stand beside the beasts and restore the Keliarn Agreement. If that is done, we can defeat the king and the dragon that betrayed us all. We can win our peace.”

There were nearly a hundred people in the streets now, staring them down with clear hostility, and clear fear. The vampire, Olrier as the tree wolves had called him, was glaring at them all, his face contorted between a host of different emotions, most of them associated with open hostility. Still, Silver could have sworn the golden glow of his eyes was quieting.

“We know the one who slew the queen,” Olrier finally relented. His posture relaxed, and he looked away from them, at the broken cobbling on the streets, with a feral smile. “I’ve seen him, spoken to him. I can only believe that he wished for the destruction of the pact and the death of all his kin. He was a creature such as ourselves, betrayed by his own. A monster among monsters.” He turned back to them.

“Prove to me that your peace is ours. Remain here. Train us to fight, as you have trained these humans,” he gestured past them to the remaining refugees of the outpost, “and learn from us in turn. We are forever faithful in our service to the royal family of Alti, Cevora kuirsrinn. When you are ready, the truth of humanity’s pact with the beasts will be yours. But know this,” he pointed at her roughly, “the past is not easily forgotten. I wonder if you can truly change our position in your kingdom.”

“I can,” Cevora interrupted him. Olrier merely narrowed his eyes at her.

“Follow me and I will take you into the heart of the city. We have better accommodations there. And these two,” the vampire said, gesturing at Silver and Bek with a pale hand, “I would like to work with them personally. I’m sure that will not be a problem.”

Cevora looked at the two of them doubtfully and just a touch fearfully, and Silver knew that Bek most likely wore an expression that very obstinately refused the vampire’s request. Perhaps he did not see, as she did, that Olrier expected he would have his way, one way or another. One more glance – first at the townspeople behind the vampire, many of whom clutched their weapons uncertainly, and a second back at the equally nervous looking group several yards behind them – confirmed her decision.

“No, it won’t be,” she said before anyone could say anything to the contrary, “It won’t be a problem at all.”

She saw the surprise in Cevora’s face, and the knowing smile on Olrier’s. His eyes flashed darkly.

“We’ll get along nicely, I sense.”

Bek’s expression, out of the corner of her eye, was murderous. Olrier only smiled and turned away, guiding them deeper into the city.