Blood
Nathan Calresh
Blood is sweet, savory, and spicy. Everything at the same time. The vampire's senses were suddenly as sharp as his pearl-white, ivory teeth. Yllaria had signaled something profoundly earthshattering to him. She trusted him, and she was unafraid. Be afraid. Be very afraid. "Few make it..." In that moment, the magical demonstration of the woodelf collapsed. Worse, her face was pale again, and her hair had lost its bright-red glow. Here, in the middle of the trees, the sacred guardians looked tall as ever. The prowess of life itself. The verdict was made then, Nathan thought. The forest had disapproved and rendered him an intruder. Likewise, it had marked Yllaria's fading magic. A portal opened, one to distand lands, which bid her to enter. In the midst of this storm of the ancestors, the vampire and the woodelf stood facing each other, holding their hands tightly. Surrounded by cosmic energy as old as time itself were two colliding forces. "This is the only way out for us. United in blood. A bond for all of time, if we make it. It's either this or you send me forth, never to return." Nathan's eyes assumed a golden warmth, not a coldness. He thought of his creator, Tifatina the vampire. She had chosen for him, and left him no choice when she simply took him. Time stood still, warped, and seemed not linear at all. Yllaria had made the choice herself, and that was all the vampire could ever hope for from a prized connection as mysterious as this one. One that emboldened its parts. And with that, he brushed her red hair aside and sank his ivory teeth deep into the woodelf's neck. Yllaria's eyes widened with shock, then resolve. Warm blood filled his lips and mouth, and ran down her neck. Her blood was sweet, savory, spicy; everything at once. And still, more than he could fathom. Her face was pale now, almost as pale as his own. The vampire did not want to stop until he heard a voice. Nathan did not know if it was actually spoken or not. I'm a creature of the La. Her voice. In his head. As if forced to, he instinctively let go. Swiftly, the vampire drew a dagger and cut the main artery of his right arm, not wasting precious time, for the important hour had drawn near. "May the La forgive the children of the night." The vampire spoke his words loudly into the deep darkness of the forest, his words echoing into the woods. He held out his arm, blood dripping and running furiously. "Drink, Yllaria." The vampire paused. "Enter the world of the invisible. Neither here, nor there."
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