Elora's plan

The guard pushed the young woman onto the dirt floor of her cell. Elora screamed as she landed heavily on a broken arm. He laughed, stepping into the confined space to add his usual kick or two. He stopped and backed away, “I see you have company, I’ll just leave you two alone,” he said, his eyes widening.

Elora, picking up on his fear, turned her head. “You cannot…” She whispered in horror, as she saw the vampire. “I’ve told you everything…I was paid to drop a letter off, I didn’t see a face. It could be you for all I know. Maybe I should tell them it was?”

“You little…” the guard made for the cell door anger overcoming his fear.

“Lord Ruckal grows impatient,” a new voice spoke. Freezing the guard instantly, “Tyron you have your instructions, get the information from her and you will be set free.”

“I cannot feed from this…” Tyron paused, his eyes catching Elora’s, “child. She hasn’t enough blood to undo the damage I’ve sustained, Commander Azzav.”

“You need only a little to get the information” Azzav said, walking away. “Do so and you will be rewarded, fail and you will die a slow death in the morning sun.”

Tyron looked confused.

“They believe that the sun is deadly to your kind, as well as a few other superstitions,” Elora said. “Thanks for not telling him the truth about me.”

“If you’re what I think you are, it is an honour,” Tyron said weakly.

Elora offered Tyron her wrist, “you are of no use to me dead,” she said, seeing his uncertainty.

Tyron hesitated a moment before approaching the broken body. A body that showed no sign of pain now the audience had gone. He sank his teeth into her wrist, feeling the heat of the blood as it gushed into him. Images flooded his mind, he saw worlds, stars and races brought to life, then die. He felt it too, all of it, as she had. He now knew for certain that he drank, not from a mortal girl, but one of the true immortals. A creature far older than even his race. He pulled back, shocked that it had been mere moments.

“I can spare more,” Elora said.

“It’s too rich,” Tyron said. Just those few seconds of feeding had fully healed him.

“Sorry, I tried to suppress most of it,” Elora said.

“Like your current plan?” Tyron asked bitterly.

“Like my last hundred millennia,” Elora said, then shrugged it away. “If I didn’t trust you, it would have been silver not blood you drank, we both know that much.”

“Sun’s rays or not this is going to be awkward come morning,” Tyron said.

“I can’t have you here, not this close to my goal; that they believe the stories helps,” Elora said, her mind whirring through her options. She hadn’t created this avatar and undergone two weeks of torture to give up now. If this latest attempt failed they would have to bring her before Lord Ruckal. She wanted Ruckal’s current attack plans and taking them from his mind was the only way she could guarantee they were genuine. The only way she could do that unnoticed was for him to relax his guard, unfortunately the only time Ruckal ever relaxed was when he was inflicting pain on people; hence this harebrained plan to have him torture her to death. That way, she had argued, even if he did notice her intrusion into his mind, as doubtful as that was, he would not care, believing his secrets to have died with her. “How would you like to be set free, considering my setting you free also means you get to live?” She asked after a while.

“You’re having the best of argument so far, though if you can leave, and I have tried with both magic and psionics, why haven’t you?”

“My job is not done,” Elora said with a shrug. “Yours can be, it’s entirely up to you?”

“What price my freedom?” He asked, sceptically.

“Deliver a message for me,” Elora said.

Tyron nodded, “what’s the message?”

“Tell Shadowfox I’m delayed but will be there soon. He’ll understand,” Elora said, tracing a rune on the dirt floor and moving a hand across it. She chanted words even Tyron’s vampiric hearing couldn’t make out then sat back, “now we wait.”

It was not a long wait. The earth erupted where the rune had been drawn, a face appeared. Tyron’s eyes widened; an earth elemental. He had heard rumours of such creatures, but never in his two millennia had he seen one.

“Who dare…” the voice changed from challenge to question in an instant, “El?”

“Greetings Segdri, old friend, sorry to call on you but I need your help.”

“By the gods you look awful, do you need transport?” Segdri asked.

“Not me, my friend.”

“I cannot take a mortal, there is no air,” Segdri said.

“His kind do not need it.” Elora said.

Segdri sniffed the air and nodded, “I warn you it is not an easy journey, even for your kind, and if I think for an instant you plan to betray my friend here, it will be your last.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Tyron said, giving the elemental a respectful bow.

“I take it this avatar of yours is a disposable one, Elora? If not I can return for you.”

“It is disposable. As soon as he kills it I will leave and retake my usual form.”

“Where do I take him?”

“To Shadow,” Elora said. “Before you go I need a scream of rage from you Ty, just a quick one, a stick and a little extra dirt from you would help too, Seg.”

Tyron and Segdri both obliged her, before vanishing into the floor.

“What the deash…” the guard stopped, seeing the wooden stick and pile of dirt. He smiled coldly. “Lord Ruckal will make you regret that.”

“Well about time,” Elora muttered.

(word count 998)