It has taken a long time, but the second chapter is finally here.
To answer some questions asked in PM's and reviews I would first like to make something clear about the powers of vampires in the underworld lore.
In the lore, your sire and up to a certain level your generation are crucial, especially for a vampire. This has several reasons: simply status and therefore opportunities, but it also grants strength and abilities (the example of sifting through memories in blood is one example).
Due to this, Marcus as the First of the vampires is supposed to be the strongest vampire closely followed by Victor and Amelia. These are the first generation.
Then there is the Second generation, these are the vampires who are directly sired by an Elder (an example of these would be Selene). These are supposedly stronger than the "lower" generations, (I'll admit the comparison isn't exactly fair since the only confirmed second generation we see in action is Selene)
There is made no mention of a third, fourth, fifth etc generation so supposedly the difference in strength disappears rapidly after the second).
Furthermore you have those outside of those generations: these are Sonja and the other natural born vampires (they're said to inherited the strain of both parents, so we can assume that if she survives Sonja will end up becoming more powerful than her father), Hera (whilst technically a second generation, her magic and Corvinus-lineage will set her apart from the others) and the hybrids like Eve and Michael.
The werewolves and lycans follow a similar pattern, although their hierarchy is not as clearly and formally established due to their wilder and chaotic nature.
For Example William towers above the others in strength seize and rage, but it also means his bite is much more infectious than the standard werewolf. In the canon even those killed by him can turn into werewolves and remain in this form even after dying again. This trait is inherited by his first generation although the werewolves no longer retain their wolf-like shape after dead. The second generation and beyond lack the ability to turn the dead in the wolves.
Whilst it therefore seems like the First and Second generations have a massive advantage, this is merely a much better starting point rather than a predestined superiority. Age, coincidence and most importantly feeding habits are of the highest importance. Whereas this last is mostly an addition of my own, I do feel it fits rather in this kind environment. (Also I admit, I rather like the idea of vampires being forced to kill if they wanne survive whether they like it or not).
In the canon there are laws which forbid vampires from assaulting and drinking of humans without the permission from the coven, just like there are exceptions during which these are abandoned (for example to create new vampires).
It always seemed rather strange that Victor was willing to go to take such extreme risks due to his need "to snack". However it is often an established part of a vampire-universe that a well fed vampire is stronger than a poorly fed one. This is here the case as well. Whilst vampires can survive with only an occasional intake of human blood on top of animal blood, a vampire who regularly feeds from humans will recover faster from wounds whilst simultaneously gain in power faster than one who isn't.
This explains why Victor breaks his own law after the establishment of it. It is not that hard to imagine Victor creating the law in the first place to have a simple means of controlling the general vampire population. Since it wouldn't be that difficult for him and a select elite of well fed vampires (with most them most likely Death Dealers due to his own background) to control the rest of the less well fed and less experienced population.
A gloved hand brushed gently over the mark in the ground, wiping a few leaves and broken branches away from the trace of their prey. The scout sighed, the edges of the print were soft. It had been a long time since their prey had left this indent in the ground.
The warrior shook his head and raised his gaze towards the Elder who was waiting for his words.
"It has been some time since they passed the edges of the forest, my lady." The man whispered. "One days at the very least, possibly a second too."
The yellow eyes stared for a few more moments at Duris from behind her skull shaped visor. The man instinctively bowed his head again, knowing that his words had caused the displeasure of the Elder.
He wasn't fearing for his life, Amelia was often cold and occasionally even cruel, but not as prone as to fits of violence as the other Elders in their anger or disappointment. Still, this hunt hadn't been a fortunate one and neither had been the previous journey. He knew that the lack of success from either chase was a simple twist of fate rather than the result of his own failings. However he knew from his own experience that a lack of luck could easily become as much a blame as a true mistake would.
"Luckily there are no human villages in this part of the land." Amelia muttered angrily. "But finding them will be a chore."
"The land is rife with streams and rocks, my lady." The scout told her. "Even the dogs would be unable to follow their trail here."
"Indeed," admitted Amelia, a good thing in Duris's eyes. "If I recall correctly, Victor mentioned that Soren lost several packs in here."
Duris couldn't withhold his lips from curling at the mention of "Victor's pit bull's" recurrent failing. He loathed the slave overseer turned Death Dealer and he knew he wasn't alone in his dislike from the vampire. Whilst Soren was an excellent fighter, he was better known for his savagery upon those who couldn't fight back than his courage against those who could. Still, Soren was a Death Dealer so his courage was rarely if ever questioned.
"How come these Werewolves can disappear so easily in this area?" Asked a curious voice from behind them. He blinked instinctively when he recognised the voice of the newest member of the Elder's retinue. Duris resisted the urge to shake his head, upon hearing her speak loud enough for the Elder to hear her.
Instead the scout raised his head up, waiting for Amelia's reaction.
The Elder paused for a moment and took a deep breath whilst removing her own helmet. Duris blinked for a moment when he saw Hera stare at Amelia with the same curious expression, obviously expecting the Elder to answer her.
"This land is difficult to travel," Amelia told her with a pleasant voice, whilst fixing her yellow eyes upon Ilona's daughter. "with a great many hills and only slightly less cleaves and streams. You could have an entire army march a few feet in front of you and still be unable to see them. The multitude of small streams makes it impossible for a dog to follow a scent whilst they provide plenty of opportunities to hide your trail and on top of that, the rocky underground of the remaining areas makes it most unlikely you leave a noticeable trail."
Hera nodded in return. "It sounds like an excellent hideout if you don't want to be found." Replied Hera whilst removing her own helmet from her head and extending her other arm upwards, seemingly aiming a smile towards the moon.
The soft beating of leathery wings could be heard through the night and it was scarcely a moment later that the bat had landed upon Hera's gloved hand in a similar manner to a trained hawk.
Hera gifted the bat with a sweet looking smile which stopped just after she exposed her fangs and brought the bat closer to her, giving Moka the chance to hop over to her shoulder. The bat instantly rubbed her head affectionately against Hera's whilst the vampire repaid the favour by brushing two fingers down the back of the bat's body.
"That it is." Amelia admitted after throwing a quick glare at the remaining Death Dealers, making clear that none of them was allowed to speak up.
Whether she was unaware of Amelia's expression, distracted as the girl seemed to be by her little friend or simply uncaring was something none of the other Death Dealers knew.
"I assume, it is not unusual for a pack of werewolves to run to this area?" Hera asked Amelia with a to the other Death Dealers surprising calm voice.
Amelia smiled, obviously pleased with the youngest member of her retinue.
"Actually," She said. "whilst it isn't, it is highly unusual for a newly turned pack such as these to run to these forests. Usually the fear caused by their superstition lingers for a couple of months or even years before they're willing to enter these forests of their own volition. The only time I ever heard of a pack entering directly after turning was when they were led by William."
After these words Amelia focused a quick glare specifically upon Duris.
"William didn't lead these beasts." Hera told her self-confident. "There is no trace of him, nor is there his customary trace of destruction."
She paused for a moment.
"You think another, older Werewolf took control of the pack?" Hera asked her.
"I am certain of it." Amelia grumbled whilst focusing her glare again upon Duris. "Most likely one of the First or the Second generation. The animal must have joined the pack a couple of days ago."
Duris bowed his head. He had started to suspect the same thing several hours ago, but he had dismissed the thought since he found no clues which supported his suspicion. Finding out that he had been right and that due to his silence, Amelia had been forced to figure the same out on her own, was not something that promised much good for his direct future.
"Will we go after them?" Hera asked her, with obvious enthusiasm.
Amelia reciprocated her happy expression for another moment, but then shook her head.
"They're most likely not too far away from here." She admitted. "But daylight is only a few hours away and we can't afford to waste several hours looking for them."
"How come, my lady?" Hera asked Amelia. "I thought we were at least a day behind them?"
Amelia chuckled softly, then she pointed her gaze at the scout.
"They've been running almost without stopping for days." Duris reminded her. "Corvinus knows who or what drove them onwards. They'll be hunting and resting before going deeper in the forest."
"I see." Hera replied. "Such a shame, how many hours do we have until we have to return to a shelter?"
"Two hours," Amelia replied without so much as a single hesitation, obviously well-known about the region. "Maybe another half an hour if we're willing to brave the first light by keeping to the shadows."
Amelia aimed her yellow eyes at Hera with some curiosity. "Why? What are you suggesting?" She asked Hera.
Her fledgling nudged the bat upon her shoulder with her head, making the animal instantly straighten herself whilst fixing her little head at the Elder. Some of the nearby Death Dealers eyed the unanimal-like behaviour with some curiosity, Amelia on the other hand had since longue gotten accustomed to the unusual behaviour of Moka and with it what seemed like a much greater intelligence than any other animal could boast of.
"I understand we can't enter the forest, my lady." Hera said. "Both due to the threat of daylight and the threat of the beasts."
She smiled and placed two fingers against the bat's head. "However whilst impossible for us, Moka could do both without any danger for herself." Hera carefully brushed the side of Moka's head whilst saying that.
"Even if they're to far away for us to strike," Hera continued. "Moka could find them or at least make us aware of noticeable characteristics of this pack, parts of the route they took and so on."
"If nothing else we would be able to leave some traps behind upon a spot where they're likely to claim a victim." Hera continued.
Amelia stared at her for a moment. She could easily see the merit in the suggestion.
Furthermore, she knew Hera well enough to know that she wasn't bluffing, the girl obviously believed that she "controlled" Moka well enough to do so. It did made her wonder at the limits of her bond with Moka. Not that Hera had ever tried to hide or even circumscribe her bond with the animal in Amelia's or as far as the Elder knew, Ilona's proximity. Still, there was an obvious difference between a few miles of carefully patrolled woods next to one of their hideouts and fortresses and the much denser, dangerous forest here. Furthermore, what interaction between the two she had witnessed so far had been little more than games and comforting. As much as she liked and trusted Hera, she wasn't certain to which amount she trusted Moka with such a task.
Amelia hesitated for a moment, than she made a dismissive motion with hand.
"Send her out!" She ordered the youngest Death Dealer. "So far it seems like this hunt will be without a reward, perhaps she'll have our luck turn for the better."
"How long does she have?" Hera asked her.
Amelia paused for moment. "An hour." She said. "If she does find something, we'll have a small window of time during which we can act before we have to return for the morning sun."
Hera nodded instantly and whispered something in Moka's ear.
A moment later Moka seemed to fall forward from Hera's shoulder, but before Moka even fell past the belly of Hera's horse she had extended her wings and made her way upwards into the sky.
It was a little over half an hour later when Amelia noticed Hera suddenly straighten her back and raise an arm. Moments later her yellow eyes detected the movement between the trees.
Rather than landing upon the outstretched arm from Amelia's fledgling Moka dropped something in the palm of Hera's hand. The bat flew over the head from her mistress before turning around again and landing upon Hera's shoulder who promptly rewarded her little friend with quickly whispered compliments and a caressing hand.
"What?" Asked Amelia surprised whilst steering her horse towards the young vampire who promptly extended her arm into Amelia's direction.
Eying the object in Hera's hand the Elder Princess instantly recognised the object as a small broche. A bauble made of bronze, leather and wood which was adorned with the picture of a white stag. For a moment Amelia stared at the piece of jewellery, than she crushed it in her grip.
"Magyar," she whispered angrily.
She heard the angry muttering among her horsemen.
"What are those pillagers doing here?" She asked, not expecting anyone to answer her.
Instead she turned her head towards Hera, who had kept complimenting Moka.
"What did she discover?" Amelia asked her, still feeling somewhat foolish for aiming her question at the mistress of a bat rather than a scout.
"Moka found the owner of this," Hera paused for a moment whilst eying the remains of the rather rough looking clasps disdainfully. "bauble and his friends a little over nine miles into the forest, next to a small stream."
"They're all dead." Hera continued "and it looked like they were killed a little under a day ago."
"Most of them were heavily mutilated and nearly all of them and their horses shown traces of claws and teeth."
Hera paused after for a moment whilst Moka kept chirping at her. "I am quite certain she's trying to describe the results of the meal of our hairy friends." Hera continued with a dry sounding voice.
A moment later all saw Hera frowning curiously.
"There were traces of maybe four wagons, each of them destroyed and..." Hera paused again. "She guesses a little over nine times a dozen bodies of horses."
"That means she guesses there are a little over 108 killed horses," Hera explained after doing the math. "Counting high numbers seems rather difficult for Moka, I tried to come up with some mnemonics for situations like these." She continued.
Despite the situation, Amelia couldn't help but chuckle. As if another girl could have acted as if it was remotely ordinary that you taught your bat to count. Somehow she suspected that Hera actually did consider it a logical thing to do.
"Maybe half of those horses might have had a rider?" Hera said or asked with a clear frown. "Since that many had a saddle but there were far less riders than saddled horses. Maybe half of those horsemen were gone as well."
Amelia swore in return, rather loudly too.
"My lady?" Hera asked her.
"At least one of William's own spawn was leading those animals." Amelia told her.
She turned her head violently towards Moka. "Were there any clues which implied they waited there for them to turn?" Amelia asked the bat.
Hera whispered the same with a much gentler voice at Moka whilst brushing a finger through Moka's coat.
"Clue's?" She asked Amelia after a couple of seconds.
For a moment Amelia aimed a glare at Hera, then she took a deep breath and schooled her features again.
"Did she see a large number of paw prints, scratch marks upon nearby trees, any traces of two wrestling werewolves for example?" Amelia asked her, easily recalling the violent and savage nature of William's breed.
"She didn't, my lady." Hera replied after a few moments.
Amelia snarled for a moment, exposing her fangs. "That means they've been turned as well!"
She took another deep breath. "A quarter of a hundred and eight, that's twenty-seven. That means something between twenty and thirty newly turned werewolves that we know off."
"I'll need to mention this to Victor and Marcus." She growled. "We assumed we had locked this area off from humans by stopping those peasants from ever approaching it, now it seems the Magyar smelled an opportunity to fall upon them through the woods."
"Only the devil knows how many have reinforced Williams ranks through their stupidity!" Amelia muttered angrily.
"Do you think they'll followed them into the forest, my lady?" Hera asked her curiously.
"Perhaps, "Amelia admitted. "Newly turned werewolves are usually caught between their instincts and the remnants of their human desires and fears."
She turned her head once again towards the bat. "Those wagons and horses, were they loaded with loot or not?" Amelia asked with a loud voice.
Hera paused for a few moments after repeating that question.
"Moka believes them to be heavily packed." Hera said after a while, obviously hesitating. "However I admit I am not certain what her definition of heavily packed is."
For a moment Amelia looked frustrated than she slapped a hand upon the satchel which had been thrown in front of her saddle.
"Their bags with fodder." Amelia asked Hera who seemed to blink for a moment. "How heavy were they?"
Amelia couldn't help but wonder when she saw Moka chirp softly whilst brushing her head against Hera's cheek who was obviously listening attentively.
"Their nets were almost empty." Hera said with a confident voice, before rubbing a finger once more across Moka's back.
Amelia smirked in return.
"Good, that means they expected to find some fodder in a nearby town." Amelia explained.
"Duris!" Amelia called out with a loud and clear voice.
Said scout approached her instantly, in his haste he was walking so fast that he almost pulled his horse forward by the reins rather than merely leading the animal.
"My lady?" He asked her, obviously wary to invoke more of her anger than he already had.
"How long has it been since we had this area cleaned of mortals?" Amelia asked him.
"A little over twenty years, I'd say." Duris told her. "Although there have been a few minor infractions from overtly adventurous or desperate mortals in the past."
"Thank you, Duris. I thought so as well." Amelia said whilst throwing the scout a map. "Do you recall the position of most of the nearby villages at the time?"
Duris was well aware that the Elder hadn't forgotten his earlier mistake, but he recognised an opportunity to make up for his earlier mistake when he was given one.
"There were no real villages in the direct vicinity of the forest." Duris replied after pausing to gather his thoughts.
"However," He went on, "there used to be a monastery nearby to what is now the edge of the forest. In the days there lived at least a hundred monks and numerous peasants who served their needs." Duris continued, showing a noticeable contempt with the way he spat the words monks and monastery.
Duris hesitated for another moment. "I would advice," He whispered, obviously uncomfortable with advising the Elder when he still was on her bad side. "that we check that one out for sure, we still have an unmanned hideout in the direct vicinity of the ruins of the monastery."
Amelia paused for a moment, obviously contemplating the suggestion.
Then she nodded. "An excellent suggestion." She admitted. "Lead the way!"
"Hera," She told the girl, who instantly straightened the moment the Elder laid an eye upon her. "have Moka accompany him and search for a trace from our new prey!"
The young Death Dealer nodded and after brushing her hand a last time against Moka's head, the bat spread her wings and disappeared in the darkness of the night.
The monastery had been a huge building in its day, more akin to a fortress than a place of silence, worship and work. Then again, considering how far it had been removed from the castles and fortress of the human nobles this was more a necessity than anything else. Even without the threat of vampires and werewolves, the humans in these land had been a beleaguered people. Slavs, Franks, a number of Greeks and Magyar had been in constant struggle for survival and dominance. If the Franks weren't trying to burn their enemies territories, than either the Slavs were raiding, the Greeks scheming or the Magyar pillaging, or just as likely all of that had been happening at the same time. The madness that was religion had hardly made the life of the people any easier.
According to Hera, it was a small wonder that most peasants generally accepted the rule of the vampires with such a quiet resignation. In more than one way the rule of the vampires tended to weigh less upon them than their human masters had.
Of course, Hera knew better than to believe that they saw it the same way. It was due to this that the vampires kept themselves away from the bulk of humanity and allowed them to be ruled by nobles and councils from their own species. Or at least for as long as those people remembered who the real rulers were.
The neighing of her horse, Nyx, awoke her from her musings.
Hera couldn't help but allow a low hiss to escape her lips when she saw the ruins of the monastery.
In the sixteen years she had walked the earth she could recall only three living representatives of a religion, a priest and two travelling monks who had been captured by the hunters of Ilona, fanatical madmen who preached that only acceptance of one's suffering and misfortune lead to Heaven and that being a vampire meant you were a soulless monster that had to be destroyed. The second she had laughed away, but not the first one.
Hera could hardly recall a thing from her time with her "family", but she remembered how much she had feared them and hated them. If she ever saw them again, she intended to balance the scales rather than forgive or even thank them.
Gazing upon the monastery, Hera reached down for her crossbow and after pulling the string back with a practiced ease, placed a quarrel upon the groove of stock.
Her action was repeated by more than half of the other Death Dealers and so did Amelia.
The monastery had fallen it to ruins, several parts of the once massive outer walls had turned into rather gentle slopes of rubble, stones, wood and earth covered by dirt and mosses. The towers themselves seemed mostly untouched and so did the main building, a square and rather oblong place which seemed more like an especially low donjon than a church or anything remotely religious.
"Twenty years?" Hera asked with a disbelieving voice.
Duris turned his head towards the youngest Death Dealer and nodded. "We required a lot of stones for some of our nearby hideouts." He added as an explanation.
Hera nodded absentmindedly, whilst keeping her crossbow ready. The night was still rather dark and the sun wouldn't rise until another hour and a half. As a result the ruins seemed a dark and sombre place, filled with ancient and malicious memories. No doubt a mortal would expect the vampire to feel at home in this decor, however instead she felt suffocated and threatened.
The place was dark and gloomy all right, however it lacked even the slightest bit of the sinister beauty or dark elegance which would have been so appreciated by a vampire.
Instead it felt just like what it had been; an ugly placed constructed by a human with access to way more stones and manpower that talent or even mere imagination. She suspected a child with some wooden blocks would have constructed something similar upon a particularly depressing day. Chasing the humans out and partially tearing the place down hadn't made the remains any more hospitable though.
The girl repressed a smirk, not that anyone would be able to see it behind the skull-shaped visor from her helm. If there was a way, a building could gain sentience, Hera would have been certain it was hating them, possibly even more than it had hated it's original occupants.
"Has Moka returned to you?" Amelia asked Hera whilst halting her horse in front of the gate.
"Searching these ruins will take time, my lady." Hera reminded her bashfully.
"I know." Amelia admitted before turning her head towards the forest. "However, they can just as easily hide in there as here and behind those walls we'll be better able defend ourselves than in the open." She added.
"Call Moka back, Hera." Amelia ordered her. "Have her scout our entrance, then we'll search the remains of the buildings ourselves."
Hera nodded, than she smiled and Amelia heard her whisper the bat's name. Moka landed upon her shoulder in a matter of moments.
Amelia blinked for a moment. "Was she already upon her way?" the Elder asked.
"She rarely needs more than that when I'd like her company." Hera added as an explanation.
Amelia cocked her head for a moment, but decided that the mystery probably wasn't worth the headache of searching for a proper explanation.
"Did she see something?" Amelia asked her.
"The places is thick with scents and marks of William's brood." Hera told her whilst drawing her gloved finger across Moka's spine as a reward for the bat's efforts.
"Any indication of them being present, as well?" Amelia asked her.
"Perhaps in the cellars or more far off rooms, but there are none nearby or dwelling in the open." Hera said, repeating Moka's impressions.
Amelia nodded in return whilst steering her horse towards the entrance.
"Stay by my side inside." She told Hera, than she aimed her yellow eyes at Duris.
"Select five picked warriors to guard the horses." She ordered him. "The rest of you, travel in groups of four, if there is something in there that's alive, I want it found and killed before we got to risk spending the day here."
Amelia raised an eyebrow curiously when she felt the breeze caused by the billowing cloak from the Death Dealer when Hera whirled around, the muscles of her arms just as tense as the steel limbs from her crossbow.
"Calm your nerves, Hera." Amelia told her chidingly, although the woman took great care that at no point her voice seemed harsher than that of a kind-hearted teacher who scolded a particularly favoured pupil who made an small, but understandable error.
The Elder noticed that even when helmeted, the young vampire still looked away in a timid fashion which she found out some time ago had been limited to Hera's interaction with herself.
Whilst most vampires who had know Hera would usually compare her to her adopted mother qua behaviour, which was a generally a mixture of aloof politeness and calculating intelligence with a hint of kindness which Ilona herself usually failed to show to anyone but her adopted daughter and her husband, Amelia's and especially Moka's presence tended to remove the worst edges of her behaviour and encouraged the more playful, affectionate side of the vampire. Unfortunately, Amelia had also noticed that Hera tended to be a bit more self-conscious around her.
Hera nodded in return and paused to check her weapon for a moment, when it seemed that it hadn't suffered due to the sudden motion, she raised her head again, pointing the green orbs at Amelia's yellow ones.
Amelia could easily hear the deep intake of breath which Hera took.
"I am calm and ready, my lady." Hera replied with a much calmer, but due to her steel helmet slightly muffled voice.
Amelia smiled in return, an action that due to her own open helmet was perfectly visible.
"Good," she whispered before motioning Hera to follow her.
The Elder walked with slow, measured paces. A clear contrast with the much more fleet-footed Death Dealer.
Truth to be told, Amelia knew that if it hadn't been for her vampyric nature, Hera might have heard her heart beat, just like she would have heard hers. She blamed the approaching sun for this nervosity. It was only a little over a hour until sunrise and whilst Duris had assured her that the hideout was only a ten minutes away, she disliked such close odds. She was as close to immortality as one could get, the idea of losing all that due to a poor timing was as infuriating as it would be painfully and embarrassing.
It was not as if she would be unable to hide into the monastery though, as damaged as it was, there were plenty of cellars, crannies and corners even if she wouldn't be able to find a hideout amidst of the labyrinth of rubble between the walls. In truth, the monastery would have served easily as a hideout against the sun. However she knew equally well that it would be the end for most of her Death Dealers if they were forced to stay here and the Werewolves attacked during daylight. She had seen the aftermath of several attacks such as these. Most of them small patrols from their warriors who had set out against the humans, units which had been surprised by the rapid approach of the sun and had been sniffed out by werewolves.
She smiled reassuringly at Hera, noticing the small motion of her eyes through the holes in her vision, which most likely implied a similar smile in return.
She wasn't planning to risk such a fate. If they did not find werewolves soon, they would leave for a safe hideout, no matter the traces of werewolves which were found. Another night, another chance.
"Ready your weapon!" Amelia ordered Hera with a calm voice, making the other vampire nod in return. The Elder gave a probing push with her foot against the door of the stable. The rusty hinges croaked almost painfully but the door swung open.
She could see several rats scurrying away from the moonlight which now entered their hideout.
Amelia lips creased into a small smile at the sight. If there were rats in there, it meant there were no werewolves in their direct vicinity.
Still it wouldn't hurt to check the remaining boxes, even if it was only to see how Hera reacted with the imagined threat of Werewolves breathing down her neck.
Amelia lingered a bit before the first box so Hera could overtake her and then kept a careful eye upon the back from the much younger vampire.
"Everything's clear." Whispered Hera whilst pointing her head at Amelia.
"Then we keep moving." Replied Amelia whilst pointing her head at a small tower at one of the four corners of the outer wall.
"I understand, my lady." Hera said in return, immediately following the Elder who with a few quick paces made certain that she walked first.
It didn't took more than a few steps before she had reached the walls. A massive spider's web made instantly clear that the tower hadn't been disturbed in a long time.
Rather than moving down again to search another part of the monastery, Amelia leaned down against the walls and peered in the direction of where she expected the sun to set.
She frowned for a moment, showing the obvious hatred for Apollo's chariot which her kind was known for, then the Elder Princess lowered her gaze. She could see wisps of mist swirling around, slowly ascending from the lower valley towards the monastery.
"Hera?" Amelia asked her companion. "Is Moka close to the lower valley?"
"She is not, my lady." Hera repeated.
Amelia nodded and slowly removed the glove from her left hand.
"My lady?" Hera asked her curiously.
Amelia ignored Hera for a moment and slipped her little finger between her own lips, then she raised said finger up again whilst stretching her, keeping her otherwise closed fist as far away from her body as possible.
The elder vampire felt the slightly greater cold at the inside of her finger.
"We have the wind at our back, Hera." Amelia told the girl. "If they're nearby, they know we are as well."
"They're coming?" Hera asked her, then the vampire stifled and turned her head rapidly at a point high above the ground, but not far away from the direction of the lower valley.
"They are coming." Hera confirmed.
Moka?" Amelia asked her, already knowing the answer.
A loud growl interrupted whatever it was that Hera would have said.
"Seems like they're already here." Amelia muttered angrily.
A moment later the Elder jumped down, closely followed by Hera.
Neither of two women had an idea about the number of werewolves that had already been present between the walls, not that this mattered by a lot. Like humans, vampires tended to brag and one of the most common subjects from that nature, apart from the number of partners they had or the amount times they had made them scream during the day, was the number of werewolves they had killed. Amelia had heard the stories more often then she cared to count, and unfortunately like most people bragging about their sex-life, those who were loudly bragging about their number were more often than not equally big liars as they were braggarts.
If even a tenth of the stories which were told had been correct, she suspected that even humans would hold no fear for William's spawn.
The fact that so many vampires could rightly claim that they had killed a werewolf or had even been capable of acquiring an impressive number of notches in their belt had nothing to do with them being easily killed. Rather the reverse, werewolves were powerful, fast and notoriously savage. Even a single werewolf could hold its own against several vampires and in some way, their primitive, rage addled brains had realised this as well. Therefore it was not rare to see a single werewolf turn upon four or more vampires. In a direct confrontation William's spawn would more often than not end up the victor too. However the race of vampires had one advantage which granted them a last laugh over the other descendants of Corvinus, Silver. It burned, weakened and more often than not killed a werewolf even if it had failed to save the life of a vampire.
Amelia heard the heaving sound of the furious werewolf turn in an almost human-like mewling when her quarrel pierced the animal's skull, finally finishing him off.
She growled seeing the slain Death Dealer underneath the dying animal.
She recognised the slain vampire's face due to the gap between the cheek guards of his helmet. Arius, a Greek whom she had turned herself a little under a century ago. The man had been exemplary Death Dealer. Such a pithy his spear broke under the violence of the werewolf's assault.
Three crossbow bolts were stuck in his assailant, plus the remains from his victim's broken weapon.
Two more Death Dealers stood next to their fallen brother, one was a thuggish looking spear bearer, whose name escaped Amelia for the moment. The other was a woman, Egeria, who had been in a relationship with Arius for maybe a decade or so. A heavy looking sword lay rather weakly in her now shaking hands, whilst her primary weapon, a crossbow, lay a few feet away from her. The last two remaining Death Dealers stood several paces behind them and both were desperately trying to keep the horses corralled.
"Get the horses away from here." Amelia ordered the four remaining Death Dealers with an impatient voice. "Not even one in ten of us can hope to reach safety if they're killed or escape."
The two nearby Death Dealers nodded quickly and then rejoined the others, Amelia noticed Egeria's gaze lingering upon Arius' body whilst following the others.
For a single moment Amelia's eyes softened, then that little show of emotion was gone again.
She turned her head towards Hera who was likewise staring at the slain monster and his victim.
"Drop your cloak!" Amelia reminded Hera admonishingly. "You don't want to give them more to grab a hold off."
The girl nodded instantly and hastily unbuckled the clasp which had kept the heavy cloak upon her shoulders.
Amelia gave approving look.
"Take to the top, travel the roofs and walls." She ordered her. "Shoot everything that's big and hairy and don't come down!"
"I will." Hera told her with a soft voice. "Take care, my Lady."
Amelia chuckled for a moment, then the vampire offered her a gentle smile.
"Tell your bat to watch your back, Hera." She said.
"Know that I will be doing the same for you." Hera replied with a soft voice, almost too soft to be heard by anyone but her and Moka who had arrived moments ago.
Another chuckle escaped Amelia's lips after catching those words, however arrogant they might have seemed to anyone else than the Elder.
More growls reverberated through the ruins and Amelia began to run, she was still running when she pulled the cord of her crossbow back and placed a new quarrel in the slit. Behind her Hera jumped at the closest wall whilst extending her arms, the Death Dealer's nails caught a hold of the grooves between the stones and she pulled herself upwards with an ease which hinted at the inhuman strength from her undead muscles.
The top of the ruins were covered with mosses and felt slippery, still this did not withhold Hera from racing over the stones with a sure-footedness which no human could have hoped to equal.
Spread throughout the ruins Hera heard some of the first sounds of battle, the loudest of these were the growling of the massive predators which had hidden themselves in the ruins. These growls betrayed anger and rage, but likewise contained a hint of frustration and pain. It was clear that despite the advantage of surprise, the vampires hadn't been defeated by the small number of their assailants.
However she caught a glimpse of movement from the corner of her eye.
A moment later she stopped in her tracks as if she had bumped into an invisible wall. The first of many werewolves appeared from behind the outer-walls and jumped down before disappearing between the ruins.
This lone werewolf was followed by what seemed like a flood from the beasts.
"Elders!" Hera exclaimed distraught at the sight.
Still this did not withhold her from aiming her crossbow and launching her second quarrel into the pack.
She heard a pained growl and saw a single werewolf simultaneously miss a step, but it did not withhold the animal from continuing its assault upon the ruins.
A soft growl escaped her own lips at this and she pushed the cord of crossbow back before placing a third bolt in the slit of her weapon.
"Stay down!" She whispered angrily whilst launching the quarrel at another target.
The bolt flew true, still considering the speed of the animals, the thick muscles and the small seize of the area where a bolt could kill a werewolf instantly, she knew it was mostly a wasted wish.
From the moment after she had released the bolt, she had been certain she had missed the area. However whilst crossing the small distance towards the werewolves, it seemed as if the tip of her quarrel had shifted marginally, almost as if she willed the projectile into the spot. She saw the werewolf stumble and then fall, without a chance to ever rise again.
Hera smirked and placed another bolt in the slot of her weapon, however whereas at first the werewolves had ignored her as a minor annoyance, this was no longer the case.
Two werewolves aimed their heads at the young vampire and broke from the pack, straight at her.
Hera took a deep breath and pointed her weapon at a point just above the wall which was nearest to the wolves. The moment she saw it's head rear up above the walls, she pushed the steel trigger against the stock thereby releasing the bolt.
The beast's growl was abruptly cut off, for a single second the werewolf kept hanging to the walls by the grace of his curved claws and tensed muscles. Then it slid back and fell upon the ground, breaking the wooden shaft of the quarrel which had penetrated his left eye.
"Two werewolves, three with the help of Amelia and the horse-guards." Hera thought whilst turning around and she started to run in attempt to increase the distance between her pursuer and herself.
She swore softly. She had been lucky, extremely lucking to get these last kills. Hera sped up, not bothering for the moment to reload her weapon.
Instead she fixed all her attention upon the crumbling walls underneath her boots and before her. She could hear the pursuer approach her rapidly behind her, even if he was slowed down by the narrow seize of the walls. She could hear the blood racing to her head and cursed her arrogance for a moment. The remaining distance of wall was shortening rapidly, in a couple of moments she would be forced to choose between jumping down and risk getting either thrown down by a nearby werewolf or being jumped by her pursuer or she could attempt to bridge the gap to the unstable roof of an already half destroyed shack. And there was no doubt in her mind that if she could make it, so could the werewolf.
Well a certain death or a massive risk, what to pick? She jumped!
For a single moment it seemed as if she was floating in the air, then she landed. She felt her legs smack against the corner where stone met with the roof tiles and exclaimed a quick oath whilst her right-hand moved to her hip. A moment later, she instinctively threw herself down whilst extending her right arm.
The dark shadow which had landed next to her exclaimed a loud howl of pain when the silver coils of the whip in her right hand tore through fur, skin, flesh and muscle. A moment later she stood upon her legs again. Hera knew there was no time to lose, she had to hurt him. There was nothing she could do but that, no fancy or elegant motions, no positioning or leverage like Ilona had taught her whilst instructing her how to wield a sword or staff. Just raging instincts and desperation. She kept smashing the leather and silver studs at the werewolf's body. For a few moments the werewolf just took the beating whilst growling painfully, perhaps subjected to memories from before his transformation. However it took only moments before he grabbed a hold of the coils and despite his obvious pain, kept a hold of it, rendering Hera's weapon useless even if Hera could actually hear the Werewolf's skin searing where he held it.
Hera growled in return and slammed her body against him, simultaneously smashing the spiked but of her whip's handle into his eye.
A painful howl erupted from his jaws and the werewolf fell back, down upon the street several feet below Hera. And out of the reach from her whip.
There was no time to look down in triumph upon the defeated werewolf and Hera knew that too. With her undead hart still beating faster than it ever had done since Amelia had turned her, Hera reached for the small dagger, which she had strapped at her back. It was more a tool than an actual weapon, but still it had been adorned with silver runes and therefore it would be enough.
She threw the weapon down, directly into the werewolf's stomach where it pierced the hard layers of muscles. He wasn't dead, Hera knew that much, but in combination with the wounds she had given him before it would be minutes at most before he would be.
Hera wasted a single moment to stare down at the poisonous werewolf blood that now stained her whip. She shuddered, then she wrapped it loosely around her leftarm whilst reaching for her crossbow and pulled the cord back again.
"Right," she whispered to herself and aimed a look at the direction in which Amelia had disappeared again."
A few streets of rubble from Hera, Amelia had found several patrols of her Death Dealers, although the majority was still missing. She wasn't worried about them though, whereas she knew some of them would have found their second dead in the struggle, by now most of them should have found an easily defensible position. She had little doubt that most werewolves would have been killed by pikes and bolts before they could hope to slaughter these entrenched vampires.
In fact, she suspected that it were her current companions who were the most likely vampires to end up dying tonight.
Amelia took a quick step backwards which made the claws of the werewolf smash through the rotten wood of the building's wall, peppering the vampire with a rain of splinters. Another swipe of his second arm was evaded by the vampire with a quick step to her right whilst she returned the courtesy by simultaneously stabbing her sword upwards, straight through the beast's palate into his brain. For a moment the werewolf kept standing in front of her, a moment later the werewolf collapsed as if his bones had disappeared.
A soft growl escaped Amelia's throat whilst she bared her canines at her next opponent, a sleek and thin-furred werewolf who seemed intent upon charging her head. Amelia gave the beast a contemptuous smirk whilst grabbing her sword with both hands. A few paces away from her, the werewolf jumped against the wall, grabbing a holt of the stones with his claws, another much taller werewolf shot from behind the building and took the earlier werewolf's position.
Amelia showed a mixture of a grin and grimace in return.
The Elder instantly raised her sword above her head and stepped forward whilst whirling around so she could add a greater force to her swing. The sleek werewolf tried to evade Amelia's silver plated blade but ironically it was the strong holt of his claws which made him that little bit too slow to evade the strike. Mercifully he never had the chance to feel any pain, Amelia sliced his head from his body in an instant. The Elder had no idea whether the werewolf's action had been some kind of demented pack-instinct which caused the weaker wolf to throw his life away to preserve the stronger's or whether the second werewolf simply used the opportunity granted by the earlier's death. The animal threw itself forward, one clawed hand already raised for a decapitating strike. Amelia instantly stepped backwards whilst removing one hand from the hilt of her sword and raised it protectively.
The Elder grunted painfully when she caught the claw upon her silver lined gauntlet. Her arm felt as if it was pounding and the black steel and silver had been dented, still they had served their purpose, she had caught the werewolf's attack and now smashed the pummel of her sword hard against her assailant's snout. Most other vampires would have been thrown away like a ragdoll, a few might have "escaped" the attack with a broken bone but Amelia was not like most of her kind. She was an Elder, whether it was strength, speed or the more esoteric gifts which had come with their rebirth as a vampire none except the other Elders could hope to match or surpass her and she knew it would be a long time before even the next generation could hope to do so as well. It had a reason why she had dared to travel the ruins with no more back-up than a single Death Dealer, no matter how promising she might have been.
The werewolf knew none of all that though, all it could realise was the searing pain of silver when Amelia drove her sword deep into the belly of the flinching animal.
A last pull and Amelia threw the dying animal behind her with the nonchalance of a human who had just dumped part of his burden.
"Form ranks!" Amelia called out to the Death Dealers who had been rallying behind. "Spears at the front, crossbows behind. We will break their charge."
And so they would. So far losses on both sides had been rather limited, despite her own efforts. The Werewolves seemed instinctively aware of the silver and cautioned by this, they made no attempt to withstand the blades and quarrels of the vampires once their initial attack failed. Fortunately this meant likewise that the threat of the leveled pikes and lances from the vampires sufficed to hold them off. However this little standoff couldn't continue forever, the werewolves were impatient and the vampires feared the light of the day.
Furthermore it wasn't as if the werewolves weren't trying to find a way around those leveled spears and Amelia disliked the odds of having her Death Dealers face them with the sword. So Amelia growled at the werewolves and remained at the frontlines of the battle. Killing Werewolves, but more importantly provoking the animals. As long as they kept their anger and attention fixed upon her, they weren't trying to find a way around her followers.
Amelia whirled away from another swipe from a Werewolf's, her century old reflexes instantly made her prepare to lunge in reply of the attack, but a motion spotted from the corner of her eye drew her attention and she threw herself sideways instead, making the silver lined back plate from her cuirass scrape against the primitive stone wall. The other Werewolf snapped his jaws shut with armour piercing force at a few feet from her, exactly at the spot where her arm had been a second ago.
Amelia felt a familiar wave of fear and excitement course through her veins at first, then she felt her canines elongate and the accompanying increase of her senses. The Werewolf stared into the bright gold eyes of the Elder for a single second, than a storm of steel, wood and silver tore through his coat.
Behind her, she heard the sound of reloading crossbows and slowly marching feet. she could not afford the distraction of looking behind her. still she could tell that the pole-arm bearing vampires were slowly moving forward. A few werewolves succeeded in slipping past the blade of the Elder, only to find four or more silver plated speartips aimed at them.
The werewolves growled angrily at their archenemies, still they realised that as it was they were helpless against the vampires who could attack them whilst keeping a safe distance from their fangs and claws.
Instead of throwing themselves upon the silver blades, the werewolves retreated slowly, continuously growling and snarling whilst exposing their bared fangs and claws to their opponents in an obvious effort to unnerve them. The vampires in the meanwhile kept following them, carefully keeping their ranks closed, well aware of what the consequences would be if even a single werewolf slipped past the tips of their spears.
Amelia in the meanwhile unleashed her own anger upon the Werewolves, the Elder Princess whirled around in the small space of the streets, dove past a claw, slipped underneath the scything slash of another Werewolf whilst simultaneously dragging her sword through the flesh of a hairy limb. The vampire wasted no time with actually killing them, instead she was content with merely wounding them, to slow them down and therefore turned them into an easy target for the spears and crossbows.
The tide of the battle had turned, no matter how minute it might have seemed. Still the Elder knew far better than believing the battle to be over.
Behind the Elder, Hera placed another quarrel in the slit of her stock before taking aim with an almost detached calmness. The vampire paused for a moment to admire Amelia's performance than she took aim at another werewolf who was trying to reach the vampires from atop the rooftops and walls.
The beast fell down after she struck his shoulder with a quarrel, a few feet away from her another Death Dealer gave her a quickly muttered compliment before pointing his own crossbow at another werewolf who had followed Hera's latest victim. Hera accepted his compliment with quick, almost distracted nod before reaching for another quarrel in her quiver.
Several yards away from her, above some of the roofs in the werewolf infested area Moka dove down and screeched loudly.
For a single moment, Hera lowered her weapon whilst paying attention to her first friend, the next her eyes gained a bright green hue which in later times would be described as radioactive.
"Get away from the wall, Amelia!" She yelled with a loud voice whilst raising her weapon.
It took a moment before Amelia reacted and jumped to her left, extending the distance between her and the wall.
For another moment nothing happened except that Amelia made a rather clumsy dive underneath the claw of the nearest Werewolf, a second moment involved the Elder scrambling up whilst attempting to gain some space with a wide swing of her sword.
The third second, the part of the wall to Amelia's right seemed to explode in a shrapnel of wood splinters and large rocks which peppered both Amelia and the nearby werewolves, followed by a massive figure who overcome by his own speed smashed into the nearby cluster of Werewolves.
The Elder Vampire instantly brought her sword down upon the Werewolf who laid on top, decapitating him with a single stroke of her sword.
However she lacked the time to take care of the others since already the first of many new Werewolves poured out of the hole in the wall. A silver tipped quarrel however stopped the Werewolf in his tracks, turning the snarling monster into a parapet of muscle, hide and bone which obstructed the hole.
Behind the line of pike bearers several Death Dealers were staring with the first traces of awe at Hera, who with a single-minded focus placed another quarrel in the slit from her weapon.
"Drive them back!" Amelia ordered whilst clenching both hands around the hilt of her sword before she charged forward, instantly followed by the pikemen.
The sudden charge caught the Werewolves unaware and another three were instantly cut down by Amelia and the Death Dealers, whilst a fourth escaped the onesided slaughter only by turning around.
A few Death Dealers armed with pikes took a stand behind the obstructed hole where they kept the remaining Werewolves on the other side at bay by poking their weapons into the gap.
The Werewolves howled and raged, some began climbing the walls in attempt to get around the line of vampires, but it was obvious that for all their savagery most of their rage was struggling with their dampened willingness to defy the silver in the hands of the vampires.
Still safely standing behind the lines of the pike armed Death Dealers, Hera noticed the remains of tall stone building which seemed to be swaying under the violence of the Werewolves. Perhaps it had been mill or an earlier part of the monastery's defences.
More importantly though, Hera noticed that it stood surrounded by the Werewolves.
The girl hesitated for another moment, then she jumped up and grabbed a hold from a higher wall. Her bat fluttered for a moment in the air, then Moka flew straight for her companion.
"Keep them away from me!" Hera yelled at some of the nearby marksmen, before she began running.
The distance was short, but so was the surface of walls which she could traverse. Even worse not only were some of those shaking due to the violence of werewolves who seemed intent on bringing the walls down with her, others were obstructed by Werewolves who defied the missiles from the Death Dealers whilst some of the more careful Werewolves simply jumped towards her, raking their claws over the surface of the walls.
Hera cursed her previously brilliant seeming inspiration.
Before her another Werewolf tumbled from the walls with several quarrels in his chest, a pike bearer quickly planted the tip from his weapon in the chest of the animal, finishing him off.
Hera knew she would be reliving this short trip in her nightmares for a long while, still she succeeded in reaching the tower.
There was a loud crack when the wooden floor gave in the moment she planted her boot upon them and it was only by throwing herself backwards and further bruising her already throbbing back that she could save herself from falling through the floor.
Hera pushed herself up again and this time taking care into remaining upon the stone edges of the tower she continued onwards to the ancient looking remains of a now mostly gone upper-level.
The teenager stomped a first boot upon the floor to test it sturdiness before stepping down from her stone perch.
A moment later she threw herself with all her strength and weight against the outer wall, but as ancient and weathered it had seemed, this one had obviously been meant to endure a lot more than the houses and stores which she had seen earlier.
Hera grunted angrily, rubbing her shoulder where the metal had been dented due to her impact, then she pushed again. Behind her Moka chirped a warning and the Death Dealer reached for her whip, tearing a bloody crevice into the Werewolf's skin who promptly loosened it hold of the edge of the wall and fell down again. Below her she heard the sound of disappointed howling before this turned into a renewed anger.
"Go down!" She ordered the wall whilst throwing herself against the stones. "Go down, Elders take you, go down!"
Another push, an even harder throbbing shoulder and slammed both her fist against the stones. She kept pushing, focusing upon her anger and fear to ignore her pain, hoping that these emotions would help her bring it down.
A white-hot anger coursed through her veins and she even pushed her still helmeted head against the wall as if this would tip the scale.
Then Hera heard a loud crack and for a moment she wondered whether she had succeeded or merely broken one of her bones. Then for the first time since she had reached the tower she actually felt the wall move. She gave a loud roar of elation in celebration of her victory and threw herself against the wall for the last time.
It was with the loud, rolling sound of an approaching thunderstorm that the wall fell.
First there were little more than a few smaller stones which had already been loosened at the top of the wall which fell down amidst the snarling canines. Some of the Werewolves looked up in surprise as if they couldn't believe what they had seen or heard earlier, then massive pieces of masonry fell down, each at least the seize of grown man's chest.
Werewolves were tough and powerful creatures even when compared to vampires, but even they died when half a ton of rubble fell upon their head and even the most powerful of creatures would be confused after being struck by smaller amount of stones.
Below them, still several paces away from the tower and therefore out of the range of the avalanche, Amelia stared up in obvious surprise. She blinked for a single moment in attempt to process the current reversal of fortune, but that was all she needed.
"Attack!" She called out to her Death Dealers, whilst pointing her sword with wide swing at their enemies. "Kill those dogs before they can recover!"
A loud cheer came in reply from behind her and the Death Dealers charged their now hapless opponents.
A few werewolves struggled to escape the rubble which had struck them down and each of them was ruthlessly piked down, others were to wounded to pick up the speed necessary to escape the anger of the vampires and they turned around to defend themselves and to attempt taking at least one last Death Dealer down. In a matter of moments these too were surrounded and shot or piked down, apart from a single exception where a particularly daring Death Dealer finished the werewolf off with a decapitating slash of his sword.
The rest made their way to the edges of the forest and disappeared.
Seven vampires had died that night, together with twenty-three werewolves.
There was little cheer in the ranks of the vampires when they finally reached the hideout.
"You should have been more careful." Amelia said, chiding Hera when the girl seated herself a few feet away from the Elder.
"I know." Hera admitted, whilst keeping her eyes glued to her dented spaulders, making an obvious effort not to look Amelia in the eyes.
Amelia stared at the girl with obvious annoyance, for a moment she contemplating airing some of the frustrations she had actually felt upon discovering the amount of narrow escapes the girl had made during the battle, then she dismissed that thought again. She could tell the girl wasn't feeling defiant.
Instead Amelia reached for Hera's now bared shoulder. Instantly Hera aimed her eyes at her other shoulder and raised her hand to start removing the other piece of kit as well.
Now actually feeling ignored. Amelia tightened the grip of her fingers upon Hera's bruised shoulder.
Hera raised her head up in an instant. The moment her eyes met Amelia's the Elder released her grip again, instead she carefully brushed her thumb against soothing the pain of Hera's sore flesh.
"I am not talking to the spirits of the stones, so don't look for someone else when I am talking." Amelia told her with a strict voice.
"You nearly died." Amelia reminded her and for a moment Hera seemed intent lashing out in reply.
"Under my eyes." Amelia continued whilst brushing her other thumb over the skin of Hera's jaw.
Hera seemed to force herself to swallow whatever it was that she at first had intended to reply.
"I...am...aware." She admitted, sounding rather abashed.
"At least she wasn't trying to minimise the risk of her actions." Amelia thought whilst she kept staring with a hard gaze at the youngest Death Dealer so far.
Then she sighed. If she was aware and taken aback enough, Amelia could forgive her the risks she had taken tonight. Perhaps that the experience would provide her with some wisdom that she lacked due to her lack of age, despite the girl's training.
"Take some rest, Hera." Amelia whispered whilst brushing her hand through the girl's hair. "You've earned that much."
Amelia wasn't going to compliment Hera for the risks she had taken, no matter how fortunate the outcome had been.
She felt a hint of her own regret when she saw Hera close her eyes, the disappointment of the girl about the lack of sweet talking obvious to someone who was as experienced in reading someone's emotions as herself.
"Perhaps it was not fair to her," she admitted to herself, "but it would be better to make certain that such individual risk taking was nipped in the bud from the start."
She sighed and leaned back against the wall, whilst brushing her fingers across her forearm. The skin underneath the black cloth was red due to the pressure and there were a few deep cuts which had further darkened the colour where the indents of the black steel had cut into her pale flesh.
Then she rested her wounded arm next to her legs and closed her eyes as if waiting for sleep.
In truth, she knew sleep wouldn't come rapidly.
For a few moments an image from a decade ago sprang to her mind: a young girl, barefooted and dressed in no more than a thin shirt who defied the First Werewolf with no more than a piece of wood in her little hands. Then she remembered Hera slamming her fists and shoulders into the walls of the tower until the stone gave in. She knew that no vampire her age, not even an Elder could have hoped to break those stones.
Yet somehow Hera had once again found a strength which defied what should have been possible.
She opened her eyes for a moment.
Her little fledgling kept intriguing her, no matter how many years went by.
Amelia's lips curled into a small smile at that thought, then that smile grew a bit broader.
Amelia had remembered where Hera had laid her own hands down, they had been upon her lap, not next to her. And if they had been accidentally moved whilst asleep, they wouldn't have wandered so far from the Death Dealer's body.
Amelia resisted the urge to chuckle.
She leaned back a bit deeper against the wall, but left her own hand where it was.
It was only a few moments later when she felt sleek fingers wrap themselves around her own fingers.
Even if Hera made a valiant effort to keep herself from opening her eyes, the young vampire couldn't help but smile.
Amelia let her, she didn't mind her fledgling holding her hand.
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