Heath, for the twentieth time, tugged on the thick chains that encircled his wrist. They hit the end, giving a metallic thunk as they pulled against the fasteners embedded in the stonemason wall. The lights were out of place for the setting. All around, an almost dungeon-like atmosphere: hay on the floor, chains from the wall, buckets for defecation, and bars across the front. The fluorescent lights were out of place in such a room, but they threw off an eerie green glow that reflected the stones in a putrid color making Heath sick.

From his guess, he had been in here for the better part of a day. The Dhampir biological clock was wired differently from that of their Shtriga parents. Shtriga became lethargic during the day, going into an almost comatose state at high noon to rejuvenate their strength and pay the price for their long life. Dhampirs were at the height of their power during the noon sun, filled with energy and adrenaline. This was a natural, inborn ability to protect their parent from harm.

While on the run, Heath found the reversed sleeping schedule tiring. Often he would go a full day awake before being able to collapse during the noon sun. His Dhampir clock kept him awake normally during the day but left him dangerously tired at night. But in the case of this detainment, it had allowed him to tell the number of cycles that had gone by.

He heard the outer door rattle, and a Shtriga came in, followed by the large Dhampir that had bested him the day before. The rose eyes of the Shtriga locked onto him with intense interest, thoughtful before he spoke.

"First, what is your real name? I doubt it is what you gave that human." The Shtriga asked softly.

"I would first like to know the names of my capt.." Heath began, but before he could finish, a boot flew out and caught him in his stomach. The big Dhampir smiled widely as he knelt close to Heath's face. Heath could smell the fetid stench of the man's breath coming through his red whiskers.

"You do not get a right to ask questions yet. You earn that right here by cooperating, Are we understood?" Red-beard asked slowly. Since they did not wish to give him their names, he was resolved to name them himself. Heath shook his head in agreement.

"Good," the Shtriga said with little enthusiasm, "I never liked having to use force to get compliance, but it is necessary at times. Now, to answer the unanswered question, your name?"

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"Heath, of the house Baciu," Heath said with a small gasp.

"Well, Heath, you present me with multiple problems that we need to resolve. I can now get some of it from a first-hand source, but I still will need to get some information from you. I promise to be fair about how things are handled. How far along were you in your training?" The rose-eyed man asked intently.

"Not yet out of Novice yet. I had another five years before Guardianship Attainment. I did not even know there were any other cities."

"And that, my young Dhampir, is causing me a degree of trouble for which there is little remedy. In our world, each city is a world of its own. Its boundaries may as well be the ends of the earth to the citizens of the city. Only Dhampir and members of the Council know of the other cities and the laws on the boundaries between them. You had not reached Guardianship yet, and so the city was your world. Bucharest was not a secret for you to know yet." The rose-eyed Shtriga trailed off gently.

Heath stared intently at him, "If there are these other cities, then why is it a problem I am here?"

"Because there is no unsanctioned travel between cities. If one Shtriga moves, hundreds can follow as a whole Bloodline is bound to a Shtriga, then the food supply can become critical, causing unrest. Dhampirs and Vetalas can be seen as a threat as the bulk of a city's defenses are made up of them. The last war between the two cities was one hundred years ago, and it sparked a World War. After that, The Territory Truces were drawn up among the grand council, and it has kept the peace for the last century."

Heath looked confused at Red-Beard, "That is what you said I broke."

Red-Beard nodded ominously, his green eyes locked seriously onto Heath's.

"So what is to become of me?" Heath asked pensively.

"That is completely up to me. I know some about your gifts: compulsion, speed, healing. I have got a sense of who you are from that lovely woman you compelled. But something...someone from your past has shown up, and as soon as she is in better condition to talk, then I will make my decision."

Heath heard the outer door rattle, and in came two people with a third person, an elderly woman who had been beaten badly, being drug by the feet between the two guards. They chained her up across from Heath, and as her head lulled, Heath took in a sharp gasp.

"We caught her trying to find a backway into Bucharest this morning. Gerald needs a message delivered... a concise one about breaking Territory Truces." Red-Beard said with a full-toothed grin.

"Wa...wait," Heath stammered as the pair went to walk out, leaving him alone with his old mentor, "You guys did not tell me your names."

"You have not earned that yet." The Shtriga said with a small smile on his thin lips, "Maybe sometime in the future, though. Enjoy your new company, my young friend."