He flew at me, faster than anything natural should be able to. I had to remind myself that he was not natural. He was the offspring of malice – a creature of the night. There was little I could do except let me chair fall backwards. Even so, I felt his blade slice inches from where my neck had been. This was no game; the vampire meant to truly test me.

I scrambled from the floor, grateful for the break the vampire gave me. It was tough avoiding his eyes. There was an allure to their burning redness, one I expect that had ensnared countless prey. I drew my short. For the first time in a long time, I felt naked, like a child facing an angry wolf. I was outmatched and I knew it.

My blade looked like a butter-knife in comparison to the vampire's sword. Even looking at that made me feel dizzy. Was there nowhere I could look safely? Fortunately, I didn't have time to think about it. The vampire flew at me again, imaginary black wings of death sprouting in my mind.

Our blades met, and I knew straight away my strength was lacking in comparison. The black blade pushed against mine and I felt my arms straining already. An unnatural heat radiated from his blade and in the corner of my mind I expected my sword to melt where it was. I'd have to be smart about this. I couldn't rely on strength; agility and surprise would be my best weapons.

I fell to one knee, easing up on defence slightly. The black blade drew ever nearer to my face. My hand slipped into my boot and drew out the hunting knife I hid there. With a swipe, I gutted the vampire where he stood.

Except the blade passed through him like smoke.

"A Mirage, Wood Elf." The voice came from behind me and I instinctively rolled away, through the smoke of where the vampire had been. I heard rather than saw his blade slice where I had been.

Turning, I saw him stalking towards me. "A clever trick, letting your guard down. But what else do you have? A trick like that won't work again." He was right, and I knew it. The worst part was that he knew I knew it, too. I had no other tricks to save me. He had seen through my ploy and used his own dark magic to thwart it.

I was suddenly envious of his ability. I almost understood the concept of the Mirage. It was akin to teleportation, leaving behind a trail of where you once had been to trick an opponent into striking, whilst you could move unhindered and outflank the unwitting prey.

That's what I was here. Prey. He was toying with me. A quick glance at the table showed me none of the others had moved. Ko'Vair wasn't even smiling anymore. A surprise, considering my impression was that she wanted me dead.

Death was like a whisper, a chilling, haunting forewarning that there was no escape. My brief lapse in concentration gave the vampire time to close the gap between us. I brought my sword up; the tip of his sword pierced into it. A ripple of fiery pain laced down the metal and into my hand. The blade shattered, tiny fragments of metal my only defence. A distraction I took advantage of by dodging further back from the vampire.

But he kept on coming, pressing the attack, forcing me to dodge and duck, to manoeuvre out of the way of his swings. The hunting knife felt useless in my hand – a tool that I clung to for dear life, despite the ever looming presence of death incarnate in front of me.

Looking back on this moment, I struggle to comprehend how I stayed alive as long as I did. Long minutes passed of mere dodging, his black blade seemingly unable to strike me. Perhaps it was my reflexes, or perhaps it was Old Lady Luck shining on me one last time, but a sense of control washed over me.

I was in no position to win. The fact that I would die seemed inevitable now. The small victory I could obtain for myself lay in making the task as difficult as possible for my diseased friend.

In the back of my mind, something didn't add up. Why were the others sat so silently, not a word of protest bidden, watching as our duel inexorably moved towards my fate? Did fear hold them in some twisted force of enrapturing? There was a certain hunger in their eyes that I'd notice in my brief glance. The illusion of a home, of sanctity in our ranks, fell away before me. Perhaps this is what I was to the Dusk – a sacrifice made to their leader, to appease him, to let them toil towards whatever end they wanted.

Thoughts swirled through my head, clouding my judgement. My steps became infinitesimally slower; enough for the vampire to press home the advantage.

I'd be damned to let it finish like this, though. Not without one more bid for freedom. If I could at least injure the demon, then I would count that as a victory. I had to choose my moment. A misstep and my singular attack would be for nothing. It all verged on this moment, this defining moment in my career. I placed all my remaining strength into a single motion; a fluttering of a feint. Once again the element of surprise worked in my favour.

The pressure I'd been under left little room for a counter. Only one trained for the nimble arts could pick a window of opportunity and follow it through. The feint caught the vampire off guard, a slight hesitation in the arc of his swing. It was simple enough to avoid, less simple to manoeuvre myself into a position to strike. I was wary of another Mirage, but that didn't stop me. If I were to lose, I would rather it to be via his trickery than his skill.

My blade, the small hunting knife only used in tight situations, came so close to reaching the vampire. Inches away, it hit something solid, and to this day I don't know what. A second blade, perhaps? I never saw it if so.

Stillness settled over us for the briefest of moments. "Commendable attempt," he said. "But futile."

I don't remember the pain as his blade struck my shoulder, cutting through the leather like it was cloth.

I do remember the eruption of pain a few seconds later. I staggered, and through the torment that ravaged my body, I dimly remember being surprised that the vampire did not finish me there and then. My defences were down – the engulfing agony too much to bear. Liquid fire seemed to seep into my bloodstream, traversing down into my chest. When it hit my legs, my knees buckled and I fell to the floor.

It must have been a funny sight. Me, writing and squirming on the floor as spasms wracked my body. I was blind to everything around me, not even conscious of the advancing figure on me until he spoke.

"I can take the pain away."

I didn't respond, my eyes screwed shut in a vain attempt to fight the pain. To this day I have never experienced something as painful. I've been poisoned, tortured, even mutilated later in life. None of it was anything close to what I felt that day.

"I can end it."

The words seared through me, slicing through the convulsions before they overtook my body once more. Did he mean death, or a cure? At this point, there was little I wouldn't do to escape the agony.

I attempted to speak, only to have the words slaughtered into a garble of nonsense. The vampire, however, seemed to understand. The red eyes bore into me and though I still had whatever foul venom his sword contained burning through me, my body stilled. Not paralysed, but calmed.

The last thing I remember before consciousness slipped from me was the hulking figure of the vampire leaning over me, as two pinpricks of pain blossomed on my neck.