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by Enkar
Rated: 18+ · Other · Fantasy · #1001554
From the small town dwellings of one vampire stems a story of destruction,love and hate.
The nights began to grow continualy cold in the land of Azharia. The once bright folliage of the forest had become brittle and crippled in appearance as with the faces of the townfolk of Darrow. The small, simingly unimportant town sat in a clearing in the center of the forest, almost as it was trying to keep to itself undisturbed.

One single man, if that is what he is to be called, stood atop the small chapel building surveying the land. His emotionless gaze spread across the landscape taking it all in. As he stared into the beyond something caught his attention, his fledgling. Before the intruder of his solitude could even be seen, he spoke, "Drai, you should be much more quiet, other than to avoid being killed, to not disturb me.". Drai appeared next to him in all his recklessness, "Much apologies master, I only meant to join you in your thoughts.".

A small grin drew itself across Aldain's face."Aye, you would wish to spend your night with me as always.". He simply nodded in return. The two stared quietly, both faces sinking into a blank state of thought. Suddenly, Drai raised a brow and looked over at Aldain."I felt it too, something is comming." Drai nodded and retorted with another question, "Is it one of us..?". Aldain shook his head unknowingly. "That, for once, I am unsure of. Whatever it is, it does excude enough power for me to sense this far away, but nothing definant I can sense.". He stared down at the roof in yet again deep thought.

Aldain looked up abruptly,"Run". With that, he took off into the woods at his supernatural speed, not aware of his fledgling's whereabouts, only of his own safety. He stopped at the edge of the woods, and slowly turned in all directions looking for Drai. "The foo...", before he could finish his sentence, the town exploding into flames grabbed his attention. The fire danced in the night wind, with the crackaling of the burning timber as its music." Damn magic.".

He searched his thoughts, his mind finally setting on that of Drai."Why did he never listen....So much time wasted on that one for him to be dead.". With that, he started back to Darrow.

Upon reaching the city he looked it over extensivly, searching for any sign of Drai. Nothing. As he dug through the rubble, all he could smell or sense was that of burnt human flesh. "What would someone have to gain by such a move...espically on such a worthless town.", Aldain thought to himself quietly.

He ran through his files of thoughts, trying to pull out something that might add a reason to the seeming pointless destruction that just befell the town. Yet again, nothing that he could think of it.With that, he decided it was time to take this to someone else that might have an idea. Aicrag.

Pacing him self, Aldain headed to Gaildon, another small town on the frontier of the continent. All along his flight, he could not help but think of his fallen student, and the causes. Calling Darrow home for so long, he was sure to know of anything of power or importance...or so it might seem.

Just as his thought finished he dropped onto the door step of an old tavern, one he knew well, The Cutting Stone. The bar was usually crowded with soldiers, and was that tonight. He paused a moment and looked at the door" Aicrag, it has been to long....". He open the door slowly, pulling up his collar to hide his pale white skin as much as possible. There in the rear of the stuffy old pub sat a man wearing a white trench coat. His long black hair streamed down to the bottom of his back. A sword lay to his side, an extremly long masamune.

"Come, sit with me.". Aldain simply smiled as he made his way back, towards the voice. As he sat at the other end of the table he spoke. "You havent lost your touch Aicrag, you old soldier.". He scoffed at his remark,"I may not live forever, but I'll be damned if I look my age, keep your bullshit to yourself old friend. Aldain tilted his head to the side, almost as if he was examining him. "Ah, we both know you do not age normally after our last little incident.". Aicrag returned with grimace.

"Alright, enough talk of old times, it always did get to you in such a negative way..", Aldain chuckled as he brushed his hair out of his face. "Something completly destroyed Darrow tonight...wiped it off the planet.". Aicrag looked up from his drink and shook his head, "Its not magic.". Aldain attempted to speak but was cut off."How did I know that you thought so? Ah, your passion, this magic, I know of it. You of all people should know better.". "My point....its magic.".

Aicrag rubbed his eyes with the tips of his fingers in frustration, "There is no magic, and I mean none by any that is of the magnitude needed to take out an entire town. None.".A Sly grin grew on the vampires face, "None we know of." He looked around before he continued speaking, checking for any would-be easedroppers. "Before it hit, I could not tell what was comming, it almost came to me as a person of power. An indirect shape of a being, but when I returned I felt the power, the essence of magic. I dismissed that thought as for the same thing you just stated but I know that feeling, the same one I hold in my hand with each spell, only it was much more amplified.".

Aicrag rubbed his chin slowly,"Any idea on who?"."None so far, and as far as that goes I can not even come up with a motive.". Aicrag sat his chin onto his clasped hands, "A motive is many different things to many different people. Sometimes, the motive is not solved until the person behind it is found, besides, there is not always a motive.". Aldain shook his head, "There is always a motive, whether its money, power or destruction for personal enjoyment, they all get something out of what they do.". He nodded.

"All such things aside momentarily...how are things.". Aicrag looked about the old pub as he spoke, "Not much of anything has changed in the parts. Ever since the end of the war, there has not been much to do. I have done a little mercenary work and even a couple personal jobs.". He nodded and followed him in looking around the room, taking in the air of the pub."Yes, the war....those were days of blood. This old pub had its share back when it was a station.". Aicrag looked at him sternly."Ah yes, I tend to forget that these 'people' do not even know what happened...how many died.". Aicrag gave an acknowledging nod, "Its better that way".

Aldain's head began to spin. "....Heart-ache...". He placed his hands on the side of his head it laid it on the table, squinching his face in such a terrible way. "Whats wrong!". "....Suffering....". All the words of his friend began to fade off into the distance and he slowly sank into a state of darkness as he fell from his chair and into the ground.

-On to Chapter 2-

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