The Earl was not an old man, as far as things went, he was relatively young, merely thirty years of age. He had been raised and educated in the ways of nobility and management. It had been a life rife with books and teachers, dusty rooms, and the scent of paper and ink.

Though he’d taken to his lessons as the scion that he was, he never really enjoyed the experience. Sitting down, staying still, focusing on old parchment and long winded speeches… it just wasn’t for him. His plump appearance might hint otherwise, but what called for him was outside, in the open air, the soft breeze, the people. Much to his guard’s disdain.

It was a blessing and a curse to have to handle the comings and goings of the minor court within his little slice of the kingdom. The nobles were a beast that fed on gossip and greed, carefully balanced against the threat of consequences and the risk of discovery. If only the fellow humans bothered to stop pretending the little ‘game’ actually mattered, the Earl might have actually enjoyed some of it.

As it stood, it was little more than empty gestures and empty words with little rhyme or reason other than self-interest and ego stroking. Tiny things to bolster influence or income in tiny ways. But the part he loathed the most was when actual dangers lurked under the surface.

There was always somewhere willing to bring a sword into what should have been a nice dinner with barely disguised insults and vapid smiles.

So it was with some trepidation that the Earl looked upon the city of Balet as a thick fog covered the walled district where the feralborn maidens lived. The fact that the spell had been cast was a sign of the attacker’s temerity, but that it had spread out so much before anyone detected it? That was a sign of the skill they possessed.

And yet, the first question that came to the Earl was not on who this attacker was, but who would have sent them? What was their plan?

“It is a vampire.”

“Do we know what they’re-?” The Earl’s words were paused by the sound of a roar. An unmistakable roar. He’d heard it before, not a fortnight ago. The Sabertooth Monica. The Earl’s chest tightened. “Of course.”

“My Lord?”

“Someone is targeting our former guest.”

His eyes narrowed. The timing was no coincidence, for one. They must have known Rick had left and prepared. But what to do? Vampires were known for their ability to cause terror upon their victims. Was the Sabertooth Monica on a forced rampage? Or entirely focused on protecting her owner?

But most importantly, who, and why? The realm the vampires controlled was on the opposite side of the kingdom. Who would cross so much land just to attack Richard Cross? Why? Was it a rogue element or had the vampires chosen to make a move?

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In the silence of the night more sounds broke out. Screams, and destruction.

“Prioritize his safety.”

That startled Deneva, the knight captain, who glanced at the walled district. “And the other humans?”

“Richard and the other three companions are worth too much. Have the knights aid the citizens, but safely extracting the four must be prioritized above all else.” The declaration was firm, and it pained him to admit it. His gut was telling him that if a vampire was involved, then someone with far reach and influence had made a move. “They must be brought to the fort under the guise of a lawful operation, perhaps pretending they’re being arrested under suspicion of inciting the attack. No doubt someone will claim it is his maiden’s fault.”

“But if it is…”

“You have your orders, captain. Do not concern yourself with who is responsible for what until the situation is under control.”

“The vampire?”

“Kill on sight.”

He was not going to bother pretending he’d be able to break a vampire in for interrogation. No, the fog was proof this was no fledgling. If it was one of the older specimens of the breed, then any attempt at capture would put Deneva in far too much risk.

Deneva bowed and left.

The Earl kept looking upon the fog in the walled district.

Someone powerful enough to bring a vampire half-way across the kingdom.

Someone powerful enough to get them to start trouble within Balet itself.

Someone powerful enough they were certain they could get away with everything.

The Earl drew blanks; those who had this level of sway within the kingdom were not his enemies nor would they have done such a bold move without gloating over it.

Slowly he stroked his chin.

Who? And what was their goal with Richard? Unless it was a diversion? An attempt to remove a potential future threat? Or was the target Monica? The Sabertooth presented an unfortunate iconic reminder of the war, and Richard, her owner…

The screams began, and the Earl could only grimace.

He remained on the balcony, this far out it was impossible to see any details other than the odd flashes of light. Of maidens unleashing their powers. His fingers gripped at the railing and his knuckles whitened as he could do nothing more than observe.

Such was the weight humans had to bare.

To sit and watch and hope that the orders had been the right ones. To put one's trust onto their maidens and their skills.

If there was one thing about all the time he’d been made to spend reading, the one thing that had stuck to him the most was the idea that once upon a time humans could fight along maidens. A legend, from the times of the first maidens and their attempted conquest of the world. Myths of human armies putting a halt to the maiden armies. Stories of great battles with tens of thousands fighting to hold and protect that which they held dearest.

Of the first partnership, the first human to bond with a maiden, of how it changed the world ever after.

The human’s name and the maiden’s breed had been lost to time, each nation having their own variation of the tale. Yet they all held the same core. A simple man, lost and afraid. And a maiden, wounded and lonely.

The Earl turned away from the city, his eyes lingering on the massive boar pelt that hung above the fireplace. He contemplated, gazing back, there was a fire, and it was spreading. The knights had been deployed, the guards were all doing their jobs.

And the only thing he could do was stand still, watch, and trust in Deneva’s success.