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The struggle for power between the Quavis-enslaved and the blood bound immortal beings of the Jeildraiyan realm waged for years. Houses Aeraenor, Danu, and Eros fell first, leaving House Daergaris in Oflaria and House Radomir in Geniva to fight for the fate of the Huilium Vale.
The war was brutal.
It left extensive carnage in its wake.
Not a single drop of eternal blood stood a chance against the lycans.
However, all was not lost for the vampires.
Vih’tRyale Esenchiya, a traitor on all accounts, saved the last Oflarian house of sangre from annihilation.
To sail in the center of Hadrian’s Bay from the Waters of Vitrolet was suicide. But for Vih’tRyale, it was a means for redemption. She was banished from House Daergaris for the life of malfeasance she led. To the east of her position, Castle Danu in the city of Ihsgedasgård lay in a vision of burning ruin. To the west, her old abode in Arensgård, the last of the sanguine bastions stood mightily against the continuous onslaught of fire and brimstone. It appeared that the vampires from her clan were making their final stand there.
Mooring her vessel at the far edge of the Cuhldainn Wood, she made for the stronghold to deliver her people.
“The fortress will not survive these attacks much longer.” The warrior chief paced back and forth before the Lord and Lady of House Daergaris. “I suspect that we have a mere two days until the lycans breach the walls protecting this city and penetrate this very edifice.”
“What would you have us do Sir Hendrik?” Lord Kazakari asked. “We are surrounded on all sides. We will not make it out alive if a plan for escape is what you had in mind.”
“Not everyone would live, no. The townspeople have already given their lives for the survival of the aristocracy that dwell within these walls. What is a few more? At least some of the gentility will have a chance to flee to Citrys or even the Fair Islands of Aera’Vel.”
“Sacrificing the rest of the vampires in this clan in a poorly thought out attempt to save your Lord and Lady is unacceptable,” Lady Dreyja said. “Is there nothing else you can think of?”
“How about we leave Ludrion altogether?”
The members of the court looked to the entryway to see a face they never thought they would gaze upon again. Apparently she had been listening to their entire conversation.
“GUARDS!” Lord Kazakari shouted. “SEIZE HER!”
Vih’tRyale drew her sword to defend herself. She took out the first two sentries that attacked. Then cut down the next two.
“Shall I take her out, my Lord?” Sir Hendrik asked observing the scene before them.
“No, I want to see this.”
Lady Dreyja, Lord Kazakari, and the warrior chief watched as the traitor fought her way to the center of the throne room.
Once most of the guards had been out for the count, Lord Kazakari nodded to Sir Hendrick who waited until he saw an opening in the woman’s defenses before promptly disarming her. After putting her into an extremely tight choke-hold, he dragged her to his superior’s feet and unceremoniously dropped her there.
She gasped for air and rolled her eyes at the man who still had his hand on the back of her neck. Even for a vampire, a hold that tight is never favorable.
“Vih’tRyale Esenchiya. You knew the moment you stepped foot in this place again that your life would be forfeit. Any last words?” Lady Dreyja stood from her seat and gazed coldly into the eyes of the woman that broke her heart.
“Mother, Father,” she rasped, still out of breath. She looked up at her begetters from her position on the ground. “I have found a way off this world. I figured you would at least give me the chance to save you from your fate before trying to seal me with mine.”
“What is this absurdity you speak of?” Her father stood from his seat as well. “We are bound to Ludrion. Bound to drink the blood of his people and burn in the gaze of the red sun. An exodus from this land is impossible.”
“That is where you are wrong.” She shook herself free from the warrior chief who still had a hold on her and rose to her feet. “I have seen it myself. The barrier between this world and the next. If you will let me, I will lead us all to freedom.”
“Just how do you plan on doing that?” Her mother asked.
“To journey from this world, we have to travel beyond this realm through the Land of Ice.”
Lady Dreyja gasped. “Surely you don’t mean, Ísskenheim?”
“Aye, I do. It is the only way. Means of transport is already waiting for us on the far side of the Cuhldainn Wood. All we have to do is just get there,” she said, trying her best to convince them. “The only drawback is that Sir Hendrik is correct, there is only so much space available to those outside of the three of us. I have room for two other families, but that is it. I will leave the choice to your discretion.”
Ironically, the sacrificing of the vampires in this clan was inevitable as the Lord and Lady followed their prodigal daughter to the Land of Ice. With them was Sir Hendrik, his family, and Sir Varrion with his.
Leaving the Huilium Vale was no easy feat with the war at their backs. A blanket of darkness covered the realm and with Xaitis no longer a hindrance, the last of House Daergaris stole away from the stronghold. They were almost out of the woods when the telltale sling of arrows zipped through the sky.
Sir Hendrik’s son was the first to be felled by one of the sharp tips. The arrowhead could be seen jutting out of his heart for a brief moment before the boy promptly burst into flames, the smoke billowing out in all directions.
“Quick!” Lord Kazakari exclaimed, accidentally breathing it in. “The ends have been dipped in Axium!”
They all flat out ran for it. They climbed trees, jumping branch to branch, doing anything in their efforts to escape their enemies. In other circumstances, using they aerial forms would have been the better choice but they could not risk losing anyone else to the hot-blooded creatures that pursued them.
The vampires had just reached the vessel when an ear-splitting scream could be heard as if it was coming from everywhere at once.
Vih’tRyale had turned just in time to see her mother spontaneously combust.
“NO!” She wailed with her hands outstretched. “MOTHER!”
Powerful arms encased her frame and flung her roughly into the boat. Her traveling companions pushed the vessel away from dry land while she cried until she no longer could. She would never have the chance to earn her mother’s forgiveness now and that broke her down to the very core.
Months passed before they reached the Land of Ice. The angry cold from Ísskenheim bit into the travelers’ flesh but they soldiered on, for their survival was at stake.
“How much further do we have to go?” Lord Kazakari asked bitterly, his emotions still raw from losing his beloved wife and soulmate. He knew it wasn’t his daughter’s fault and struggled internally with whom he should blame.
“Not very far,” he heard Vih’tRyale say. He couldn’t bare to look at her, she was the spitting image of his wife and a reminder of what he had lost. “We will find what we are searching for within the Mountains of Bíldunir and pray that Ísska grants us our desire to venture into the next world.”
He abruptly stopped walking, his breathing labored. “I thought traveling through Ísskenheim guaranteed our safe escape.”
“I-- I never said that.” Kazakari watched her cringe hearing the words coming out of her own mouth. In that moment, he decided to let it go. It would do them no good to start fighting now. Besides, he probably wouldn’t even make it that far anyway. He took an arrow to the back in Arensgård and the poison would reach his heart within the hour.
“Well what do we do now?” He asked with a terrible cough.
“We pray.”
Vih’tRyale knew her father very likely blamed her for the death of her mother but now was not the time to dwell on such things. It was her mission to save them and by the gods she was going to try.
They reached the center of the mountain and were immediately stopped by sentries made of crystallized frost.
“We implore that we be allowed to bask in Ísska’s presence. We seek passage from this world to the next.” She bowed low, her forehead just barely touching the icy ground. The others followed her example and sunk to the rough terrain in submission.
“For passage to be granted, a sacrifice has to be made,” a sonorous voice called out from even deeper within Bíldunir.
Kazakari barked out in humorless laughter.
“A sacrifice.” Mirth filled his tone. “Of course.”
“Father, I--
“Save it,” he said cutting her off with bitter resolve. “I will do it.”
A blade suddenly appeared in his hands.
“I didn’t know there was a price. I have only seen this barrier, never have I passed through it.” She pleaded with her father, begging him to understand.
“What’s done is done, daughter.” He shed his clothing revealing the black web-like marks covering his posterior, the affects of Axium poisoning apparent. “I was never supposed to leave this realm anyway.”
Still on her knees, she reached for her father and watched as a sad smile pulled at his lips.
“I never should have banished you.”
“Oh, father,” she whispered, tears once again streaming down her cheeks. “I gave you no choice with my actions. Exile is more than I deserved.”
“You have a chance to do right by us, your mother and I, and your people. Look at them.” She turned to gaze at their lost expressions. “They need you more than we did. My fight is over, Lady Daergaris. I will see you again.”
With his last words spoken, he slit his own throat and exploded into flames.
Vih’tRyale sat there in shock.
“Your petition of me has been granted,” the goddess of ice said, suddenly appearing behind her. “Go. Now.”
The familiar sight of the barrier between worlds was then opened to the travelers, but she was yet staring at the space where her father was just kneeling. The impressions in the ground still visible.
“My Lady,” Sir Hendrik said gently. “We must go, lest we forfeit our only chance for survival.”
Acquiescing to his gentle prodding, she stood and led the last of House Daergaris to a new world.
The travelers landed in a strange place in the dead of night. The terrain was rough and, in the distance, Vih’tRyale could see an enormous mountain with an ominous plume of black smoke spilling out of the highest point. At the bottom of the massive precipice, she could see a still bustling city.
“What is this place?” Sir Varrion asked.
“I am not entirely sure, but this mount is familiar to me.” She cocked her head to the side. “Vesuvius?”
The mountain in question rumbled in reply.
She grinned before turning to her companions.
“We are in the earthen realm, and this,” she said gesturing to her surroundings. “Is Italia.”
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