Micaellis is situated as the capital of the human Kingdom of Leair. The year is 1511, the tenth day in the seventh month. The summer had thus far been pleasant and yet an unusual storm had been brewing in the distance to final arrive later that evening. All day it had simply been pouring with great boughs of lighting and thunder filling the sky.
The stormy weather had made it almost impossible for any coaches to traverse the city that day. The clock rung twelve and yet at that this late hour, a lone coach was seen making it's making way through the city at great haste.
Now, that was not unusual in itself seeing a seedy coach traversing the city through any weather and at any hour. Yet to any onlooker that particular night, the coach would have been immediately recognized as pertaining to a wealthy nobleman's household.
As the coach reached the business district, the coach did not stop continuing hastily through. Even when the middle-class sector was reached, the coach still skidded down the road at great speed. Too much great surprise and avail, the coach slowed down upon reaching the city's seeder sector. The coach slid to a stop at a wealthier pleasure house owned by Madam Norialise.
The nobleman inside the coach motions to the coachman to knock on the door. The coachman jumps from his seat onto the muddy streets and quickly makes his way to the door. The coachman bangs on the door and waits for any response from within. After several minutes, the coachman was about to knock on the door once more, when the door flew open.
A beautiful middle-aged brunette with green eyes stood at the door, who in her prime had won quite a share of gold and silver and thusly enabling her to open her own brothel. Madam Norialise stood in a fine blue silk gown glaring angrily at the coachman. "Well, what is it that you want at this ungodly hour at my establishment?" She demanded to know from the drenched coachmen.
The coachman merely points at the coach, before returning to the coach to open the door for his master. A hooded nobleman steps down from the coach and rudely pushes his way past the Madam and enters the brothel. Indignantly the Madam turns to yell for her guards, when the nobleman pushes down his hood revealing a well dressed, silver haired older nobleman. The nobleman has stern features and slatted violet eyes showing his vampirism heritage. The Madam quickly knelt down in front of him, "Forgive me, Duke Dalvair for not recognizing you,” as the Duke merely waves his hand in acknowledgement.
The Madam arose and quickly sent for a servant to bring forth beverages for the Duke. The Madam seats herself across from the Duke and waits for servant boy to return. As the servant boy brings forth beverages, the Duke motions for the servant to leave. At his dismissal, the servant boy sends inquiring glances at the Madam, but she quickly motions for him to depart. The servant boy like a mouse scurries at full speed out of the room.
The Madam waits quietly for Duke Dalvair to begin to speak. No matter how much she searches within her mind, she cannot recall Duke Dalvair ever visiting her pleasure house. She wonders, how she or her house may have incurred his lordships wrath. She had merely made his acquaintance once before and that was at a large festivity held by a higher-class pleasure house.
She demurely clasps her hands in her lap and prays that he does not kill her or damage any of her household. If he we were to take such actions, her pleasure house reputation would plummet, and she would lose more than a few of her clientele.
After finishing his wine glass, he sets down the glass onto the table with a thump. The duke opens his mouth to speak, "Who is your most well-liked male whore among the female clientele?"
The Madam hesitantly pauses before answering, "It would depend on what one is looking for my Lord."
At the Duke's frown, the Madam quickly adds, "Generally speaking, it would be Zarris, a half-blood elf," after a moment's pause she hastily adds, "My lord."
"I see. Bring him to me." The Duke demanded.
The Madam quickly arose and sent for Zarris. The Madam returned to her seat all the while absorbed in her thoughts. Zarris was a troublesome half-elf to manage since he refused to sleep with any of the male clientele, but he was well worth the effort as one of her highest earners.
A bare-chested seven-foot-tall half-elf appears in the hallway. The half-elf has large blue eyes, that are so dark, that they almost drain the very light from the air, thick long black hair pulled into a braid that reaches his waist with skin so pale that there is a tinge of blue that can be seen, and a surprisingly muscular body for that of an elf.
The half-elf’s handsome face is rather puzzled as he bows to the Madam and her guest. Thin violet lips twist into a faint smile showing a hint of pointed pale teeth. "Is there a reason for my slumber to be interrupted at this hour?" Zarris asked of them.
Duke Dalvair laughs at his question. "Well, I can see why my daughter paid for you." His eyes narrow at Zarris and a pleasant warm smile at appears on his face, but the warmth of his smile does not reach his cold eyes. "Do you know who my daughter is half-breed? Do you know who I am for that matter?" The Duke pointedly said.
Zarris glances inquiringly at the Madam, wondering if the nobleman is here to end his life or request a punishment of sorts. He had never seen nor met the nobleman before and could not possibly guess how he could have insulted him. Zarris bows his head to the nobleman and politely replies, "I apologize my lord, I do not know who thine daughter is nor your identity. Please enlighten this lowly servant of yours."
Duke Dalvair lips transform into a cold smile as he rises from his seat and moves speedily towards Zarris. Before Zarris can ask again, Duke Dalvair slaps Zarris with all of his might leaving a large bruise on his handsome face.
Zarris eyes widen in shock and in anger as he digs his nails into his palms keeping his head down hiding the fury in his eyes. If he showed any sign of anger, he was sure that the Madam would punish him after the nobleman left. And that was if the nobleman did not request a punishment be given to him or personally demanded to deliver the punishment himself.
Duke Dalvair bellows in anger at him, "How dare a half-breed impregnate my daughter, do you know the trouble you have caused me half-breed? My daughter is to be married to the eldest son of the King. If the King finds out, that not only did my daughter sleep with a whore but had a child; we will not only become the laughing stock of the entire kingdom! The King will cease to deal with us and our entire vampire clan will suffer."
Zarris's and the Madam's eyes widen in disbelief at the revelation. "I have a child?" Zarris sheepishly asks the Duke. He should not be able to have children due to the slave crest upon his wrist. All slaves belonging to pleasure houses have slave crests upon them that prevent the male slaves from impregnating their female clientele and the female slaves from being impregnated by their male patrons.
The Duke furiously paces in front of Zarris and the Madam, back and forth between them."Yes, you half-breed mongrel, you have a child! A half-breed as well!" The Duke Dalvair roars at the revelation.
Duke Dalviar turns on his heels and switches to next target. He yells furiously at the Madam, "What kind of establishment are you running here? Are not all whores equipped with slave crests that prevent impregnation?" The Madam wordlessly nods her head in response.
"Really, father, must you lower yourself to your baser instincts? What a truly ghastly sight that is," a lovely voice called out. Without hesitation, they all turn towards the owner of the voice. The hooded figure pulls down her hood revealing a silver haired, violet slit eyed beauty.
The beautiful, well figured noblewoman lifts her skirt with one hand and demurely enters the brothel as the coachman mutely follows carrying a small fine woven basket.
Duke Dalvair smirks, "Allow me to introduce my lovely daughter, Moria." Duke Dalvair claps his hands together theatrically, "Speak of the Devil and the Devil shall appear. You speaking of not lowering oneself to baser instincts? If that was case, we would not be here, now would we?" He irritably snaps back at his daughter.
Moria crosses her arms over her generous ample chest and pouts, "Father, no need to be rude. It's not as though I loved the half-breed. Alona of the House of Gareth wanted him, I couldn't let her have him, so I stole him first.” She unapologetically said as she runs her eyes over Zarris and licks her red lips as she muses out loud, "However, I must admit, he was well worth the coin I had to pay."
A smile can't help but blossom on Duke Dalvair face at her words. He fondly smiles at her and pulls his daughter, Moria, into his arms. "That's my sweet pea," he fondly said. Moria turns her head away indignantly pouting, "Hmph, if that was the case, then why did you make me bear that mongrel half-breed child?"
Duke Dalvair raises his eyebrow at his daughter words and explains, "Now sweet pea, if I hadn't, you would have never learned your lesson, now would you?" Duke Dalvair gently pats her on the shoulders, "Next time, sweet pea, you'll make sure to not become with child and especially with a half-breed mongrel child at that."
Hearing his cue, the coachman wordlessly hands the basket to Zarris. Laying inside, soundly sleeping lays a tiny pointy eared, black haired baby with such pale skin that there is tinge of blue. Zarris dumbly stares at the precious miracle in his arms as every feature of the tiny infant becomes forcefully ingrained into his mind.
Moria, turns in her father's arms and prettily smiles up at him. She bats her eyes at her father teasingly and says, "On the bright side father, my figure did improve vastly after I bore the half-breed. I'm sure that Prince Noel, will simply be delighted."
The Duke Dalvair sniggers at her honesty and hugs his daughter once more to his chest, before releasing her. Duke Dalvair and Moria dismiss the Madam and Zarris with a nod of their heads. Moria intertwines her arms with that of her father and swiftly they exit the brothel out into the rain.
Zarris watches in disbelief as they leave causally abandoning the child with him. He dumbly grips the precious cargo in his arms as he quickly runs after the nobles, while the coachmen helped Moria and the Duke into the coach. "Wait! Does the child have a name and how old is the child?" Zarris yells at their retreating backs.
Moria with resignation on her face turns and curtly answers, "She is ten days old. As for a name, who would bother naming a half-breed mongrel? " Moria dismisses him and enters the lavish coach. Once comfortably seated inside the coach, she casts a powerful mind spell erasing the half-breed mongrel’s existence completely from her mind.
Zarris desperately turns to the Duke and says, "Wait! Are you truly not concerned for her future well being at all? She is only a child!"
Duke Dalvair causally reaches into his coat and throws a bag of gold at Zarris. "That should provide for any education she desires at a brothel," Duke Dalvair emotionlessly said as he turns his back on the pleasure slave and enters the lavish coach. The coachman closes the door behind the Duke and climbs to his porch atop of the coach.
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Zarris glares furiously at Duke Dalvairs departing figure as rage clouds his innermost thoughts. "Nobles always think that they can get out of anything with their dirty money, well I'll prove them wrong," he firmly stated in his mind. Zarris gently tosses the money bag in his palm, testing its weight. He firmly clutches the money bag in his hand and raises his arm to throw the bag as hard as he can.
A small protest is suddenly heard from inside the basket as his body instantly stiffens instinctively at the noise being made. Zarris slowly peers inside the basket and sees the baby girl sleepily open her dark blue slit eyes and stare sleepily into his. Her eyes seem to ensnare him into their depths as she yawns drowsily revealing tiny little fangs.
The baby girl fiercely reaches with her tiny hand and warps her hand around his forefinger. She clings to his forefinger, before sighing contently and closing her eyes again. Warm feelings bubble from underneath the dry surface of his heart. Water gushes from unknown depths, drowning all thoughts and opposition. Until once more, his heart is brimming with warm feelings; not felt since he was made a slave.
From inside the coach the Duke orders the coachmen to depart from the filthy brothel. The coach sets off with a squelch. Rapidly gaining speed across the muddy road and fading into the distance.
Zarris no longer caring about the nobles turns his back on the rapidly departing coach. As he enters the brothel, Madam Norialise is impatiently waiting for him as she taps her slippers against the floor. Madam Norialise coldly snorts, "Well, show me your slave crest, I want to make sure it is still active." Zarris narrows his eyes at the implication of her words, that the child cannot possibly be his. He extends his arm to the Madam as her long red nails scrape at his skin as she grabs his forearm.
The Madam lowers her face to the slave crest and carefully scrutinizes every inch of the magical crest. After several minutes, she is unable to find any failure in the magical crest. The Madam sends a tendril of her magic into the crest to be certain. If the crest is being bypassed, it will glow at her use of magic upon it. The crest lays colorless at her magic proving that it is still in use.
The Madam sighs in relief. If the crest had failed, the half-elf would have easily been able to kill her. She had little doubt in her mind, that he would if given the chance. The Madam grins triumphantly at him and walks closer to him and harshly says, "Let me see the child." Zarris protectively clutches the basket, but nonetheless reluctantly turns to show the Madam. The Madam grumbles, "Come morning, we will drop the child at the nearest orphanage."
Zarris roughly pulls the basket away from the Madam and firmly says, "No, she is my child I will raise her!"
The Madam bursts out in laughter at the half-elf’s statement. "You're a whore, what can you possibly teach her?" The Madam mockingly said as she wipes the tears from her eyes. The Madam tries to control the mirth in her voice, before continuing, "Beside she can't possibly be your child, the magical crest upon you is still in effect."
The Madam at seeing Zarris immovable stubborn face throws her hands up in exasperation. Once the half-elf makes a decision, he would not change his mind at all. His lapse in judgment will certainly make life more difficult for everyone in the household!
Troubled at his lack of cooperation, the Madam carefully ponders a moment on what her next move should be until it dawns on her, the simple solution to her current predicament. Her heart calms down at having thought up at solution to the dilemma. The Madam smoothed her skirts confidently with her hands, before turning to face him. "I will allow you to keep her, if you can prove she is your child. But to be sure I will cast a family lineage blood spell,” the Madam cunningly said as glances at the half-elf waiting for his response. "However, if it turns out she isn't your child, come morning, we will drop her off at the nearest orphanage," the Madam swiftly added.
Zarris gazes gently at the sleeping child as there is no doubt in his mind that she is his child. Zarris reluctantly raises his gaze from the sleeping child and responds, "Agreed. However, once you are satisfied that she is my child. I will raise her, and you will not attempt to take her away from me."
The Madam unhappily crosses her hands on her chest at his response. She opens her mouth to berate him and persuade him otherwise. "Even if she is your child, where can you raise her? This is a brothel not a nursery! Besides how will you service your customers, will you have your child watching? This is no place for a child!" The Madam shrieked at him.
Zarris continues to stubbornly stare at the Madam and firmly states, "I will raise my child as I see fit." Zarris glances tenderly down at the sleeping child, before turning to face the Madam anew. Zarris raises an eyebrow at the Madam and mockingly says, "Well, get on with it, Madam."
The Madam clenches her hands in anger at his mocking tone of voice. She almost raises her hand to him for his disrespect but stops herself. She knows full well, that such an action will only make him harder to deal with in the future. The Madam instead withdraws a small knife from within the folds of her silk gown and casually unsheathes the small dagger in front of his eyes. The Madam smiles unpleasantly at Zarris and says, “Extend, your hand out.”
Zarris extends his arm out as the Madam pricks a finger until a drop of blood swells. The Madam chants part of the blood spell as the blood drop rises from his finger hovering in the air. The Madam speedily sheathes her small blade and returns it to the folds of her silk dress, before reaching into the basket as Zarris instinctively pulls the basket away.
Zarris narrows his eyes in suspicion at the Madam. If she is trying to hurt his child, she will surely come to regret it. The Madam sighs at the half-elf’s antics and rolls her eyes, before saying, "I need a lock of her hair for the spell."
Zarris gently reaches inside and plucks a single thread of hair from the babe’s head as he carefully watches over her to make sure she did not awaken. To Zarris delight, his child continues to sleep soundly as ever. After being assured that his child is still sleeping peacefully, Zarris brusquely hands the lock of hair to the Madam.
The Madam carefully takes the lock of hair and finishes the spell. “If you are father and daughter, the hair and blood drop will intertwine. If you are not, the hair and blood drop will push each other away,” The Madam explained as they waited for the spell to work. After a few tense moments, the hair and the lock of blood glow and intertwined together.
Zarris smiles in joy as the drop and hair intertwined together, before smugly glancing at the Madam who is still in shock and frozen with disbelief. The Madam opens her mouth in shock, the results should not be possible! Yet, somehow against all odds, this child had been born. The Madam staggers into the nearby chair and pours herself a glass of whiskey, before downing the entire glass down. By the time the truth hits her, Zarris had since left with his child.
Tired of waiting for the Madam to respond Zarris had promptly walked to the kitchen. In the kitchen, there is an old maid still up at the late hour finishing preparations for the next day’s meals. Zarris politely clears his throat to grab the attention of the old maid. The old turns her watery eyes on him as she rasps, "Well, what is it that you want boy?"
In response, Zarris places the basket on the kitchen counter and motions to the basket with his head. The old maid slowly peers into the basket and notices the baby. In fear the old maid clutches her heart, before wildly grabbing for the broom that was leaning against the counter. The old maid fiercely whacks Zarris on the head as Zarris’s eyes water in pain. “You, filthy man! I will not allow you to use this baby in your whorish perversions, there is always a line that must never be crossed!" The old main sternly cried out.
Zarris ducks the broom and grabs it out of the deranged old maid’s hands. The old woman begins to shriek. "Madam! Madam!" Zarris quickly covers the old maids’ mouth with his hand to keep her from waking the entire brothel.
"Stop," Zarris franticly hissed at her, "She's my child." At his words, the old crone stops struggling in his arms.
The old maid glares at Zarris with her beady little eyes, "Hmph, why didn't you say so boy. Hmph, you should be politer boy, now hand me my broom." Zarris reluctantly returns the wooden broom as the old maid cackles in delight, before impatiently saying, "Well, get on with it boy, what is it that you want?"
Zarris rolls his eyes in exasperation and impatiently says, "My child will need to be fed soon, what can she be fed?"
The old woman stares at the baby girl for a moment and mutters, "Well, how old is she?"
"She is ten days old," Zarris steadily said.
The old woman curiously asks, "Does she have any teeth?"
Zarris nods and replies, "She has four fangs, two on top and two on the bottom."
The old woman nods in satisfaction as she snorts, "Well, in that case, some milk and oatmeal or soft food with blood or slivers of meat."
Zarris sighs in exasperation and through gritted teeth says, "I know that. However, where can I get it?"
The old woman smacks Zarris painfully on the head with her broom. "I'll prepare it for you of course, stupid boy," she rasped before toddling away.
Zarris just glares at the crazy old bat as he rubs his throbbing head. Sniffing to himself, Zarris turns to study the tiny baby girl in the basket. With great fasciation, Zarris tilts his head from every angle comparing his features to hers and with great pride her features were a flawless match to his.
The old maid speedily returns for someone of her age and places a bowl of baby food in front of Zarris. "Only feed her when she's awake and hungry,” the old maid grumbled, before old raising her nose at him and sashaying away.
Zarris glares at the old maids retreating back as he grabs the bowl from the table and most carefully picks up the precious basket with his other hand. Zarris unhappily mumbles under his breath as he leaves, "Of course I'll feed her, while she's still sound asleep. What does she take me for a fool?"
Zarris most carefully climbs up the stairs and heads to his room on the second floor. A glimmer of light from under his bedroom door causes Zarris to pause as he raises his eyebrows in exasperation. And in reply the door opens to reveal a group of young trainee courtesan girls spread out evenly through his room.
A thin fairy girl flaps her wings in excitement and says, "The coach's arrival awoke us, so we sneaked downstairs and saw everything!"
Zarris sighs ruefully at the girl’s antics and kindly says, "If the Madam finds out, she will punish all of you."
All the girls nod their heads solemnly in a promise to not speak of this. The fairy girl sticks out her pink tongue at Zarris and impishly replies, "We won't tell! Now quickly show us the baby!"
Zarris carefully places the bowl onto his small table, before walking to the center of the room and placing the baby girl on the bed. On the carpeted floor, a red-headed half-elf girl with missing feet crawls towards the bed. Zarris bends down and easily places the red-headed half-elf onto the bed as well. The fairy girl glares at Zarris and says, "No fair, how come Scarlett always gets picked up!"
Zarris and the rest of the girls pointedly ignore her comment as the girls predatorily surround the basket as they coo and sigh over the baby girl, "She's so cute!" The girls squeal with delight as they fight for a better view of the sweet babe.
Zarris becomes temporarily distracted as he sadly stares at Scarlett's feet. Lost in his own thoughts, Zarris remembers the tragic events of five months ago, when Scarlett had been sold to the brothel by her mother for five pieces of silver. Within days of her arrival, Scarlett had successfully run away and made it back home. Tragically it was all in vain, Scarlett’s own mother would later turn Scarlett in for the 10 gold pieces being offered for Scarlett’s return.
Madam Norialise was not a kind soul and ruthlessly ran the brothel with an iron fist. Punishment was swiftly dwelt out and though the product would be damaged, it would serve as a warning to the rest of the trainees to keep them in line. And so, the cruel punishment was swiftly dwelt out, Scarlett’s feet were cut off.
Perhaps, Zarris would have experienced the same punishment had he run away, but unlike the rest of the brothel slaves, he was branded with a high-level magic crest which made it impossible for him to escape. And given Zarris’s temper and strength, the Madam never took that chance with him and ensured that her interests would always be protected.
Scarlett quietly turns toward Zarris and interrupts his train of thoughts by asking, "Have you thought a name for her yet?" All the girls instantly turn to face him and start giving suggestions one over another.
"Quiet!" Zarris yelled over their voices as the girl’s hush at his yell. The girls swiftly hush as Zarris thoughtfully says, "I'll name her, Wren.”
The fairy girl tilts her head, "Why are you naming her after a bird?" She bewilderingly asked.
Zarris smiles and responds, "Wren means many things such as the magician of birds or the King of birds, don't you know that?" Zarris teasingly said to her.
The fairy girl squints her eyes at him and pompously says, "Of course I knew that!"
Zarris lovingly peers into the basket and softly says, “Besides, a bird can fly feely in the sky and I pray with all my heart that she will live her life so." The girls all nod at his words in understanding, after all, their lives were no longer their own.
The baby girl softly begins to protest at the continued noisiness as the girl’s predatory surrounding of the basket. Zarris sweats in dread at and hurriedly lifts the baby out of their reach, rescuing his poor in-defenseless child. "Girls it's time for you to go to bed. If the Madame catches you out of bed, there will be consequences," Zarris sternly said. The girls sighed and groaned but do as they're tell.
Zarris watches in private relief as the girls begin to depart from his room. The fairy girl and some of the other girls help carry Scarlett out. Finally, the last girl leaves and Zarris firmly shuts the door behind him and sighs in relief. Exhausted after the night’s events, Zarris tiredly weaves his way to the bed, before falling in a heap onto the bed. His last action is to protectively pull the cradle into his arms, before falling sound asleep.