Long before, during the dark age, Ellon Achlys did not like being a servant to the council. He yearned for freedom in his heart. Why can he not be left alone to live his immortal life? Why must he fight the weak and humans all the time? After all, they were nothing but food for his hungry soul. Plus, in a wicked generation, a vampire never slept. His kind was always the nightmare of humans. But he was growing weary of eternal vigilance. He preferred to hide away from it all and just enjoy his solitary life with his beautiful human mate, Barbara, and his concerns, but those wolves were a menace. They took her away from him, killed and burned her. Killed the love of his life and now he couldn't blame him for turning into the dark side as his heart was full of hatred and pain. But, of course, he desired to work the land, enjoy the fruits of his labour, and be alone. He had enough on his back to survive in this difficult world and to build his own community based on his own beliefs. If humans were left to run their course, they would destroy their own servants anyway, so why not let it? They deserved it. Why did Ellon and his companions have to fight the old, foolish council battles for them?
The sound of breaking twigs interrupted his thoughts. Daniel and Abrianna turned toward the sound, tense and ready to run if needed.
Landrie and the other two warriors came through the brush. Ellon instinctively glanced at their spears, hoping for a sign of demon blood. There was none.
His servant looked uncertain. "Sire, I think we got it. We reached the forest's edge, and it broke out into the clearing. But we struck it twice. It managed to stay in the air, but I do not believe it could make it back the distance to the city with two flints in its flesh."
Ellon pondered for a moment. "We had best have a warrior's meeting tonight. Tell my brothers to get themselves sorted with human blood as soon as possible." He said it with a look that said, "Ready for war.'
Landrie let out a sigh of disappointment. Ellon slapped him on the back of the head and gave him a warning glance. Without a word, Ellon stomped off toward the camp and gestured to Abrianna to follow him inside the temple as the rest of the vampires hissed in his wake.
Landrie wondered just how long they could keep going like this. He had followed Ellon's lead for many centuries. In fact, he was one of his first servants and had always trusted his sire's decision, but since he met the human whom he called his mate, the ancient vampire had become softer and softer with the years. Maybe it was sheer luck that the human died, or maybe the fates had come to know that the once feared vampire had become nothing but a softy. Landrie, however, never lost his darkness as he knew that Ellon would do no wrong to any of his men. He was the patriarch of their clan, a powerful warrior beyond hell and the earth. He was the seed of Cain, the first murderer. Ellon, who knew the land well and would not compromise with wickedness, could also be impatient and insensitive towards those who lacked his resolve. Some vampires needed understanding and encouragement in the ways of predators. Humanity did not mean one should give up compassion. Landrie shook his head sadly as he walked.
But then again, Ellon did listen to him. His passion meant he might be quick to anger, but he was also quick to repent. Landrie had never known a better man in all his days. He repressed another sigh and tramped after his leader.
*****
Lady Morgana's Flower Shop
Dimitri took a deep breath as he drew aside the flowered soiled curtain and entered Lady Morgana's strange and flower-scented shack. Inside, there was low candlelight and the air was dense with fragrant incense and drying herbs, but young Dimitri observed nothing more than a set of emerald eyes inches ahead of his own when the woman emerged out of nowhere. Sweet, delicate lips crushed his lips in an intense kiss, then she withdrew them with blinding speed and as much as she could within the limited space. He breathed it in as the woman placed a table scattered with silver curios between them. It was his first kiss, and she had snatched it without even blinking. Though he couldn't hide his surprise, he had no idea such a woman existed. But why had he not felt like he was safe and that he was at home? His mother used to tell them that being with his father was like being at home. Was his mother wrong?
Yes, Dimitri couldn't deny the attraction he felt towards this young maiden, but he felt indifference. Was this not love? Why does it feel like it was the opposite? It was like he was out, and he felt that it was rather the opposite. He thought to himself how love doesn't hate, that's just a warped version of love itself, one that uses the same bit of the brain. Hate tells us that once there was love that love is still possible. Nah, the opposite of love is indifference. It's something cold that never stirs itself, never cries with passion; indifference ignores, abandons, and acts as if the other doesn't matter at all. It's as cold as the void, an emptiness that doesn't care if the other person suffers.
She was a young, lovely maiden, still having the delicacy of girlhood but confidently walking into the sandals of womanhood. Lady Morgana was a woman of beauty and grace, and she was a force to be reckoned with. Her long silver hair was pleasant and lovely, just like a beacon of brightness in this modest town with her long flower kilt.
'Beautiful,' that she was, with that spark in her eye that said she was up for an adventure. Her heart, the one that loves so profoundly and cares so much for others, was extraordinary and lovely, but no one knew who she really was. She was nothing but the devil himself. Yet, in human eyes, she was born beautiful, and with her coven and human companions by her side every step of the way, that is where she would spend the rest of her days, practising magic and spells.
"Hello, Dimitri." She mumbled with a scornful smirk on her face. "You have discovered the source of village corruption and dread, starvation, and evilness."
Dimitri remained silent, his mind whirling; none of the church sermons he'd been taught seemed appropriate to bite back. After all, she was correct. Lady Morgana, on the other hand, reached out to a shelf to her left and brought down a yellow glass vial, stoppered with a cheap cork.
"Here, Dimitri is the horrible werewolf venom that cured the villagers of the disease and prevented it from spreading to their wives and lovers... See here," she said as she pushed the first vial aside and drew another, this one with a brown, murky fluid sloshing around inside. "Indeed, poison! With the vampire, though, this little murky vial proved lethal. This would put them at risk. This could be a poison remedy for any person, but for the dark monsters, it was their adversary. And I believe you'd like to have this, correct? But this one here, a yellow vial, may steal the reason of good witches, vampires, and others, and it cruelly wipes away anyone's suffering from their bites. A vampire's bite would break someone's soul beyond repair, and only this strong vial remained as a cure." She set the container next to the other and gestured to the assortment hanging above his head. "... and, of course, the vile herbs that have prevented more pregnancies and ravenous children in this hamlet than holiness has ever sustained. Well, what do you need now?" She was tense as Dimitri stood motionless, watching.
Lady Morgana interpreted his silence as a challenge and walked around the table to stand before him, grabbing a bundle of herbs in passing to shake in his face. "And here comes the Witch! Well? Aren't you scared of me?" She smirked, continuing. "Dimitri, what are your plans?" Dimitri stared at her blankly as she cast a spell that could alter his mind as she continued, "Would you rather burn me with my herbs, my love, or make love to me right now?"
Dimitri grinned, his head at a loss. He appeared to have forgotten everything from the outside of this shop. It was just her, her, and her feminine beauty.
"I'll go above and above, honey." He winks foolishly, the only thing on his mind was how frail she looked, only reaching halfway up his chest. Was this the colossal nightmare he had pursued? When he grabbed for her wrist, her forearm vanished into his grasp. He reached down to grab her other hand and drew them together, one of his hands easily holding both, before taking a length of rope from a nearby ledge. She opened her lips to reply, but he cut her off, his passionate tone reverberating from the closed walls, eliciting a gasp from her. She smiled, knowing what was to come.
He said firmly as he reached for the rope that was wrapped around and between her delicate wrists and leaned far down, only amusement in her eyes. He was amused and excited, he thought. He cracked a small smile at her.
"Are you sure I'll be satisfied?" He walked her behind the tiny wooden table and to the chair situated behind it, holding the end of the rope in one hand. He settled on it, surveying that it could support his weight, and with a tug on the rope, he drew the witch across his lap. He ignored her arousal cries as he removed her flowery woollen skirt and brought one wide, firm hand down across her deliciously soft buttocks.
Hidden from her gaze, Dimitri didn't have to be concerned about first impressions, and he allowed himself a small smile at her squeak. It didn't stop him from doing what he thought was right, and he provided what he thought was reasonable enough for his young maiden, and he was unaware how he succumed to her magic.