“Message” She felt her mind connect to the frightened vampire. “Follow the light…” Her voice hardly more than a whisper, but nevertheless he heard her.
On the trees he saw small lights blink into existence several feet above the ground next to trees. He did not debate, he had little in the way of choices at the moment.
He followed the lights racing from tree to tree following the lights as the blinked into existence, and as he passed the blink out. He raced they were very close now, less than 50 feet until they caught him.
The air seemed to part ahead of him revealing a cottage. He poured all of his might into his legs passing the boundary. The gap closed behind him, but this did not stop his pursuers.
As he turned back to see those who pursued him his foot caught on a stone. Forcing him to wind up face down in the dirt.
He scrambled to his feet. They were already on top of him. He crossed his arms over his face and closed his eyes waiting for the inevitable strike. None came. He opened his eyes to see them pass him by.
They raced past him and through the wall of the cottage. Phasing through it as if it were air. The door opened to reveal a blonde woman of average height.
Her hazel eyes watching him with anticipation, and a bright smile on her face. “Wont you come inside.” She said with her bright smile shining.
No sooner had he stepped through her door did he fall on his face asleep. She sighed and with a wave of her hand his body began floating up. She laid him down on her couch.
She looked up his sleeping form with a glimmer in her eye and an evil smile as she raised up a small set of clippers.
When he awoke at night fall, she was ready and waiting. They spoke long into the night. He gave her his story, or what little of one he had.
He told her he had awakened a century ago with no memories. A voice spoke to him calling him, “My child.” Telling him that he had once been something less but now he was more.
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(1 Week Later)
Zephyr as Rashen had come to know him, was a true vampire made directly by Athes. ‘How lucky am I!’ She squealed internally. He had moved from place to place never staying very long.
He was always running from people who wanted him dead. He never hurt anyone, not if he could help it anyway. The sight of all that blood covering the room where he had been…born, still did not sit well with him a century later.
He had taken to killing bandits with bounties on them. Though he never drank a drop of their blood, though he thirsted for it so. He restrained himself. He had no desire to drink the blood of such men. He would then load them on a cart and take them into a town to collect the bounties.
He always wore a disguise when he entered a town. His face covered by cloth and by a magical mask his father had given him. He had even made a name for himself as a well-known bounty hunter.
He cared nothing for the attention. He only cared for the money he earned. With it he occasionally bought a head of cattle from one of the local farmers. At nights fall he would slit the bovines throat, letting its blood collect into containers he used to fill wine skins he carried in his bag of holding.
Zephyr took his wide brimmed enchanted hat from his bag placing it upon his head. He through in his leathers, appearing much like Van Helsing. Zephyr stepped through the open door to leave before turning back to see Rashen smiling at him.
He tipped his enchanted black cowboy hat to her as said, “Come back sometime. I could use more ingredients.” He shivered and could only offer a weak smile and a wave as he dawned his mask and raced off.
Zephyr came to her now and again he felt something about he that kept him coming back year after year. Every few weeks she would even cast her messaging spell so that they could converse.
At first, she had only needed something from him, bits, and pieces for spells and potions she was working on. But the longer she was with him the greater the warmth in her chest grew.
Then it was that, that fateful day came. Zephyr had come to visit when he stopped in the middle of his story. He loved to regale her with stories of his accomplishments. The vial men he had laid low.
He fell from where he stood, landing on his knees. She held him close, cradling him in her arms as he cried tears of crimson. Shaking with emotions only some of which were his.
She loved him, and now his heart trembled as he realized why he kept coming back to her. Through his bloody tears he saw he pale face, she wept for him.
Through this memories that were not his own he realized all the things he had never really place importance into in his long life. He held her close finally able to feel something more than his still heart had ever been able to before.
Hethara looked upon these two lovers, she smiled at the sight. It gave her such joy to see that love could make miracles like this. As she smiled golden tears rolled down her ebony cheeks.