• Chapter One:
    A Certain Mr. Yuit

    Damion’s hand grasped the pillow nearest him as he awoke with a sharp intake of breath. The soft feeling of the head-rest was comforting, to say the least. Air flowed through the man’s lungs needlessly, rising his chest as he sat up. His clothes hung from his lean muscles like a sculpture, the smalls frills of the shirt shifting when he rose from the bed and walked to the closet. But he did not open the sliding door; instead, he waved his hand in front of his shirt, small specks of black trailing his fingers while he whispered a word, “Lryhka.”
    The black substance surrounded the vampire quickly, though it lingered for a moment. When it dissipated, Damion had adorned solid black suit with no tie, and two buttons undone. He smiled at himself, satisfied with the result. Turning around, he flicked his wrist and watched as the window to his right swung open, allowing a soft breeze to flow in. Moments later, he vanished out the door and strode down the long hall before arriving in a large hall. Before him was a white marble greeting room; large, thick columns held golden ornaments that looked like thin, shining threads wrapped around the stone. Damion wasn’t going to conform to the whole “if you’re vampire, be dark” facade.
    He like the light. He exhaled, still taken by the sight of his great home. Nevertheless, he walked down the double stairs and opened the huge wooden door to the “bright” outside. Looking up, he saw the artificial sun that shined in the sky. It was discovered that soon after the planet’s creation, Earth’s actual sun burnt out for unknown reasons. They had to replace it with an simulation without harming vampires. The male walked through his garden of black roses, which seemed to be withering, but was a sign of strength for their type of flora. Soon enough, passing by what were other mansions, he came upon Delusia’s main section of the city, where the highest point was the Lord’s Tower, or Council building could be seen from anywhere in the city limits.
    Without much warning, Damion was ambushed by crowds of people, whom were very ecstatic to see him.
    “Good morning to you all! I apologize that I must be going,” he exclaimed, wading through bodies quickly in order to get to the Tower. He stepped between the last of the people, whom were looking all over for him and questioning how they were able to lose him.
    He broke into a run making sure they didn’t follow him as he entered the premises of the Tower. Unsurprisingly, the interior was dark compared to Damion’s humble abode, with black cracks along the walls and floors, though this was the norm of everyday life. Ghosts wandered the corridors, particularly past Vampire Lords. He quickly came upon the Main Hall, where nine seats rose above close to the ceiling, save one seat, and traveled to the seat to the far left and sat down.
    At once, something clicked beneath the chair as he sat down and a dark light glowed around the crevices. Damion waited patiently, looking down at the floor far below him. A smile stretched across his lips as he saw an Elf-looking figure climb the stairs, and it was clear that it was the vampire Lord Neos, Master of Immortality and was quite a bit older than Damion himself. They exchanged short nods, and Damion watched as Neos sat on his chair and activated its power. Soon enough three more arrived; Noxus, Watcher of Time; Persov, Master of Water, and Donovan, Vampire Lord of Fire each appearing in their own fashion of explosions and portals.
    Now, with five seats taken, they waited for the last Lord to arrive: Lillith, Mistress of Blood.
    “Why is she always late?” Persov snarled, the first one to break the silence, rubbing the jagged scar that drew across his left eye with his thumb.
    “Have you forgotten about Ashlance’s record of absences? We’re lucky to see a glimpse of him…ever,” Donovan replied as he coughed gently, “Lillith has a perfect attendance compared to him.” Ashlance was the Lord of Earth, and regularly left the city in order to make sure the entire world was found, and so was called the “Wanderer of Earth”.
    Just as Persov scoffed off Donovan’s retort, Damion turned his head to see the Mistress arrive. For a moment, his breath was somehow caught inside his throat as he took sight of her. Wearing a long, flowing red robe, the fabric cut off at the perfect length at her legs, she was not afraid of showing off her assets. But ultimately, Damion was drawn to the pure aura she had. Her black hair cascaded down her shoulders and her bright green eyes pierced the air before knocking sense back into the enraptured male and made him leaned back slowly and speak.
    “Cbqihtet. Now we can get started. Take your seat, Lady Lillith, if you please.” Damion said, then looked forward as a human ran up the stairs and bowed, handing the male a thick sack of papers and muttering a quick “My Lord” before vanishing form his sight. Damion looked at the papers quickly and deciding on an urgent matter. “Bring forward Roscoe Yuit.” his voice suddenly thundered into the bowels of the Tower. At once, two vampiric guards marched forward, handling a thin, almost pale-looking man with short blond hair. Damion cringed with revulsion but remained stoic as he continued.
    “Mr. Roscoe Yuit, you have been brought before the council for multiple homicides against vampires. Do you have anything to say for yourself, pycdynt?” Damion said before Neos leaned towards him.
    “Is this the one about the ritualized killings, Damion? May I?” he asked, and once Damion had gave him permit, he gave his expertise on the matter. “Fourteen coordinated deaths in a single month. After each murder, you draw a perfect circle around the body and proceed to draw signs of Sol. Mm-hmm, well perhaps this has passed your circle of information, but Sol has been gone for thousands of years. You can draw no power from this runes.” He waited patiently for that bit of information to sink in.
    “Heh… you think that Sol is gone…” the man suddenly spoke up, glaring at Neos then Damion, “But he’s here, corrupting the minds of everyone around you… all of you will die by The Path!” he exclaimed before wrestling free of the guards grasp and sending a strong current of electricity towards Damion.
    Everyone acted at once; the guards took Roscoe to the ground while Damion worked to create a shield before him, his fangs quickly extending to just above his bottom teeth, but a flurry distracted him and watched as the Lightning was gone. In front of him, a young man in a tattered beige cloak stood in front of him, a katana poised carefully to protect Damion. The boy’s dark grey hair blew out of his eyes and glanced at the vampire.
    “Izar…” Damion whispered lightly, shocked to see him, of all people. But the Hall was quickly rocked by an explosion, and felt a speck of hot Blood hit his cheek. His gaze turned to the source, and saw as Roscoe was in pieces, and the two guards violently ripped apart.
    Another minute had passed by in silence, all shocked to what their eyes had seen. But Damion, recognizing death, moved first. He needed to preserve the remains of Roscoe before they were contaminated, and so he rushed down the long stairway before realizing that he could get there faster by teleporting.
    “Luma,” he muttered. Having a few seconds to prepare, he gazed down at the spot before the body of Roscoe. Darkness engulfed him once again, but now vanished from the stairs. In a small portal of black, Damion stepped out, his mind somewhat warped from the travel. Yet, he acted swiftly, “Darkness, allow me to use you once more. Cayq,” said Damion, folding his fingers by his side before observing the Darkness that began to work. Blood and bits of substance started to hover above the ground, floating towards the small orb of black ink. It sounded hungry, growls and moans of pain emanating from the sphere when the Blood entered.
    Damion shivered in disgust; he felt the corrupted Blood and essence of the convicted, and it sickened him. Once the orb was done, Damion fell to the ground, wishing he could feed on pure Blood. Everything around him was fading in and out in a wild circling extravagant motion. But before he blacked out, and strong, long-fingered hand gripped his right shoulder. The vampire groaned as his consciousness returned, his twisting vision stabilizing as he slipped away from the hand. Neos looked down at Damion calmly, which caused Damion to smiled thankfully. The elf/vampire was the Lord of Immortality, and thus was a great healer and alchemist.
    He quickly rose to his feet, saying thanks once more in his natural tongue, Delusian. Damion grabbed the orb, needing to get results as soon as possible. But before he turned to leave, he looked at the young man at the top of the stairs - Izar, he remembered - and beckoned him to follow, along with Lillith. He figured he would need her powers of Blood to work more efficiently. Izar looked surprised, and Lillith followed immediately as the three walked out of the Hall and out into the city.
    “You needed me, Lord Damion?” said Izar, keeping in stride with him as well as Lillith.
    Damion nodded in response, “Yes, I’m afraid so. First off, I want to thank you for the defense against that attack. Although it was not needed, you acted very swift. I also was thinking of your training; who is, by the way, training you?” he asked, reaching the mansion grounds soon enough and opening his doors and letting Lillith in first then Izar.
    “Well… no one is sir. I…I’ve trained myself,” replied the boy, “Why?” Izar looked at Damion expectedly while in confusion, but Damion stayed quiet. He strode towards the wooden double doors adjacent to them and flung them open with a flick of his wrist, then walked down a set of stairs to his right. Immediately a strong, lingering smell of gore hung in the stale air.
    “Sorry for the smell. I can’t get rid of it. Not since…” he interrupted himself, entering a pitch black room which caused what sounded like Izar tripping.
    “Shi-!” exclaimed Izar, a dull thud and loud clatter was heard, “I’m all right. I am… good.” The lights then flickered on, Damion turning his head and looking at the boy, whom was still getting up and kicking a filthy bucket away. Izar looked around, “What is this place?” he asked.
    “H’m…surgery, experimentation, alchemy, among other things. Take your pick,” said Damion, placing the ball on the table ahead, dried Blood splattered against the table, “We need to test the Blood for signs of contamination. Lillith, if you will.” he said politely.
    Lillith smiled and nodded solemnly before stepping forward and touching the orb of Darkness, “Mm… there is definitely evil in the Blood cells. But not any evil; there are traces of indoctrination where the brain was used.” she reported, letting out a soft exhale. Damion gasped, “The Path, then! But what is it..?” he inquired, running a hand through his hair and sighing heavily. The Path seemed to be a dark being, playing from behind the scenes… his first thought was his father, but that certainly was not possible. There were also the Black Demons, though they were not known to capture the minds of others. He looked up at the others, “Um, I’ll need to figure this out later. You can go back to your dwellings, and I will call you when I think of something,” he told them, then remembered as Izar was about to leave. Both of them would love the opportunity…
    “Izar!” he exclaimed after him.
    “Yes, sir?” Izar replied quizzically.
    “Would you like me to train you?”