The heavy metal gates of Selevex groaned and clunked as they were pulled open, allowing the returning party to pass through. The guards on duty gave the group a nod of acknowledgment, their eyes momentarily widening as they caught sight of the large, misshapen sack slung over Draks' shoulder. The massive warrior carried it with ease, the dark, leathery material soaked in the creature's foul-smelling blood.
"Nice haul today?" asked one of the guards with a raised eyebrow, clearly curious about the spoils of their hunt.
"Aye," Draks grunted in reply, his deep voice carrying a note of satisfaction. "A nasty one, this beast was."
As the party's horses clopped down the cobbled streets of Selevex, townsfolk began to take notice, their murmurs and whispers filling the air. The people of Selevex knew the Rising Blades well—their reputation as skilled adventurers and protectors had made them local heroes of sorts. Eyes turned toward them, curious and eager to catch a glimpse of what new tale might come from their latest adventure.
"Hey look, mama, it's the Rising Blades!" a small child exclaimed, tugging at his mother's skirt as they passed by. The child's wide eyes gleamed with excitement as he pointed toward the group.
The mother offered a kind smile, though her gaze lingered on the large sack Draks carried, a mix of curiosity and concern etched across her features. "What evil monster have they dispatched this time?" she wondered aloud, her voice tinged with both fear and admiration.
Another townsman leaned closer, squinting at the sack. "That's not just any beast—must be something fierce if it took the whole party to bring it down."
The murmurs followed the group as they made their way through the bustling streets, the townsfolk parting like a river to let them pass. The party remained focused, their thoughts already turning to the debriefing and what lay ahead. Yet, despite the attention, they moved with a quiet confidence, knowing that their work was far from done.
Finally, they reached the grand structure of the Adventurer's Guild, its sturdy wooden doors creaking as they pushed them open and entered. Inside, the atmosphere was lively, filled with the chatter of adventurers discussing their latest conquests, the clinking of tankards, and the crackling of a warm hearth. The entrance of the Rising Blades didn't go unnoticed. Heads turned, eyes narrowing as patrons assessed the group with a mixture of respect, envy, and curiosity.
"Well, if it isn't the Rising Blades back from another job," someone muttered from a nearby table, the tone halfway between admiration and begrudging acknowledgment.
"They've been taking on the tough contracts lately," another adventurer said, nudging his companion. "Another one bites the dust, eh?"
"Look at the size of that sack Draks is carrying," a woman murmured, her eyes widening as she took in the sight. "That must be one ugly creature in there."
Aric, ever the leader, stepped forward and made his way toward the helper's desk at the far side of the hall. The young woman behind the counter gave a polite nod, recognizing him immediately. "Good to see you back safely, Aric," she said warmly. "How can I assist you?"
Aric returned the nod, his expression serious but not unfriendly. "We need to speak to the Guildmaster. There are things we encountered out there that need to be discussed—things that might be of concern to the Guild." His tone carried the weight of the experience they'd had, leaving no doubt that what he had to say was important.
The woman's smile faded slightly as she registered the seriousness in his voice. "I'll let him know immediately. Please, make yourselves comfortable while you wait. He's finishing up with another matter but should be available shortly."
After what felt like an eternity of waiting, the Helper finally returned and guided the party into an intricately decorated room. The air inside was heavy with the scent of polished wood and old parchment, a room where important decisions and serious conversations took place. Eve followed behind the others, her steps steady, though inside her mind, a storm was brewing.
Without warning, a sharp, burning sensation coursed through her veins. It started as a prickling at the back of her neck but quickly spread, her hunger for blood shooting up violently. It hit her like a wave, the gnawing thirst she had been suppressing now clawing at her consciousness. Perhaps it was due to her skipping a feeding the previous night, though she had gone longer without blood before, merely weakening her blood magic. This felt different, far worse, as if a curse had suddenly been activated within her body and soul.
Traix Khan's voice slithered into her mind, dripping with mockery. "Oh, Eve… Did you really think you could go on like this without feeding? You're not just starving—you're depriving yourself of what you were born to take. Go on, feel the power beneath the thirst. You can't keep fighting it forever. Every heartbeat you hear, every pulse you sense, it's a reminder of what you need. You know you crave it, you know you deserve it."
Ebojak snarled in the back of her mind, his voice raw and animalistic. "Blood! It's all around you! Take it! Tear it from their flesh! The weak are there to be fed upon! Give in, Eve—give in to what you truly are! Let the hunger guide you, let it shape you into the predator you were meant to be. The scent of fear, the taste of life—claim it! Surrender to the darkness within!"
Eve gritted her teeth, her fists clenching as she tried to push back the voices echoing in her mind. The room around her began to blur, the scent of warm blood from the people nearby taunting her senses, pulling her closer to the edge. Her nostrils flared as the aroma intensified, and she felt her control slipping like sand through her fingers. Her mind screamed for release, the primal urge to feed overwhelming her rational thoughts. Panic flashed in her eyes, and she knew she couldn't stay here any longer.
"I-I have something to do urgently, Aric," she stammered out, her voice strained and barely above a whisper. "I'll meet you guys at a later date..."
The words were barely out of her mouth before she turned, desperate to get out, her heart pounding a frantic rhythm in her chest. But before she could make her escape, Lyra's hand rested on her shoulder, the unexpected touch sending a jolt through her body. "Are you all right, Eve? You look pale…" Lyra's voice was filled with concern, but to Eve, the touch felt like a thousand needles prickling against her skin. Her muscles tensed, and she fought the urge to lash out, knowing that one wrong move could shatter the fragile hold she had on her thirst for blood.
Eve flinched at the contact and caught a glimpse of herself in the reflective surface of a nearby window. Her skin was paling rapidly, almost translucent, and her carefully maintained disguise was starting to crack. Her blood-red eyes threatened to emerge, and her raven-black hair was already streaking with pale white, betraying her true nature. She couldn't hide it much longer.
"I-I'm fine!" Eve blurted out, her voice harsh and uneven as she shrugged off Lyra's touch with more force than she intended. Without waiting for a response, she bolted from the room, the walls of the guild closing in on her like a trap. The thirst was unbearable now—a gnawing hunger that scraped at her very soul, each heartbeat a painful reminder of her need. Her instincts screamed at her to lash out, to rip into the nearest human and drain them dry, but she held on, her resolve weakening with every passing second. Barely managing to keep herself in check, she pushed through the guild doors and out into the streets, many civilians caught her glances.
She could feel her control slipping with each passing moment. Every breath filled her lungs with the scent of warm, pulsing blood. The veins of the people around her throbbed in her mind like a drumbeat, the rhythm taunting her, drawing her closer to the brink. Desperation fueled her as she mounted her horse, urging it into a gallop as she made a mad dash for the city gates.
As soon as she passed through the gates and into the surrounding forest, the transformation she had been fighting against overtook her. Her golden eyes bled into a deep, menacing red, filled with a predatory hunger that could no longer be hidden. Her raven-black hair turned ashen white, cascading down her back in a chilling display of her true nature. Her pale skin gleamed like porcelain, cold and devoid of warmth. She was no longer just Eve, the mercenary; she was Eve, the pure-blooded vampire, stripped of all pretense.
"Ahh, that's more like it!" Traix Khan's voice oozed with satisfaction, a sinister grin spreading across his face. "Finally showing your true colors. Why keep up the facade when you could be reveling in this power? You're a predator, Eve. Embrace it. Let the world see you for what you truly are."
Ebojak's voice roared with frenzied excitement, his eyes gleaming with a manic light. "Yes! Hunt! Feed! The night is yours, the blood is yours! Let it flow, let it fill you! Unleash the beast within and claim the darkness as your dominion!"
But before Eve could decide her next move, a new voice cut through the darkness, cold and familiar. "Well, well, well… I knew my smell didn't mistake me."
Eve's head snapped toward the direction of the voice, her instincts flaring as she spotted a familiar figure leaning casually against a tree. It was Kira, the dhampir, her red hair glowing faintly in the dim light of the forest. Her eyes gleamed with a predatory sharpness, and a smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
"Prepare yourself, vampire," Kira said, her voice low and dangerous as she slowly unsheathed her blade, its silver edge gleaming with purpose under the faint shadows of the forest. "I deem you as my prey." Her eyes locked onto Eve's, a predatory hunger evident in their depths, as the tension between them crackled like electricity in the air.
Eve's grip tightened on her own weapons, her mind racing. She was barely holding onto her sanity, the thirst gnawing at her control. She let out a low sigh, flipping her blades with practiced ease as she prepared to face Kira. "Perfect fucking timing…" she muttered under her breath, the weight of the situation settling on her like a heavy cloak.
With no other options left, she positioned herself defensively, her blood-red eyes locking onto Kira's with a fierce determination. She knew this fight would be unlike any she had faced before—not just because of Kira's skill, but because she was fighting both her own monstrous nature and a relentless hunter determined to bring her down. The forest around them grew deathly silent, as if it, too, was holding its breath in anticipation of the clash to come.