Patient's Status: Critical

It was roughly midnight when he heard the noise. Though he was deep in the temple, Gadorian was able to faintly make out some sort of pounding near the summit. Was Izael practicing? No...some...voice, crying. Dear God. Gadorian raced up to the summit of the temple towards the entrance. He slid open the door to find Lessa slumped across her mount, and a hysterical Admar screaming for help. There wasn't much time.
As the group entered the main room, Lent had already been roused and had run over to see what the commotion was all about. Admar was nearly hyperventilating, but manage to force out a pained cry of, "Soul...Reaver." Gadorian looked at Lessa's wound, then at Lent. With a knowing nod he confirmed that the injury was that of the legendary possessed sword. Her life was failing quickly; Gadorian had not even sensed her presence when she arrived at sanctuary. They would have to act quickly. Gadorian and Lent carried Lessa into a room and laid her on a couch. Lent left for a short while and returned with a satchel filled with strange potions and artifacts. He and Gadorian set to tending to the wound.
Not long into their work, Gadorian stood up. "She's fading fast. She needs blood. Now." Gadorian slit his wrist and let his blood cascade into Lessa's mouth. She seemed to respond, but not very well. Blood of the living was needed to heal the undead. Admar quickly followed Gadorian's example and drained a little more than a pint into Lessa. He wrapped his wound before falling backwards and nearly passing out. Lent leaned forward and cut one of his veins to feed Lessa, however it was not long before Gadorian held his hand out, stopping him. "What are you doing!" cried Lent. "She could die!" "Yes, I know. And just for that reason, I need you conscious to help me save her. No one can heal a vampire more than a worshipper."
The two continued their work for another hour, applying spell, tool, and potion to the dying vampire, but progress was slow. "She needs more blood. She won't make it," concluded Lent. "You can't give any more, or we could lose it all," responded Gadorian. He sat forward, pondering the situation. How could she be saved? Lent had again picked up his knife, ready to sacrifice his life for Lessa, when Gadorian shot up. "The chalice!" Gadorian procured from his cloak the chalice Lent had given to him previously. Holding it up to Lessa's lips, her body was still strong enough to react by drinking the blood inside.
Izael peeked his head into the room slowly. "Will she make it?" he asked, softly. Lent leaned over her, before looking up. "She'll...survive." It was near dawn, and everyone had already turned in. Even Izael, the Serioli in training, had turned in. He too, it seemed, had become nocturnal like the rest of them. Lent sat on the ground, next to the couch that held Lessa's sleeping body. She had been out for hours, and probably wouldn't arise till midnight the next day. She got lucky. Lent laid his head back and closed his eyes.
"Busy day?" a woman's voice said. Lent opened his eyes and he was home. He smiled as he saw the pregnant woman. "Oh Sugar, I've missed you," Lent said as he fell in her arms. "How's my boy?" He asked while touching her stomach. "Oh, I'm sure he's just fine." Sugar Magnolia said as she sat in his lap. "Oomph, you're getting big!" "Lent!" she exclaimed while playfully hitting him. "I was talking to the baby," Lent said, making his wife feel better. "Aww," she said as they kissed. "What are you doing?" Sugar said coldly; the feeling of a knife pressed up against Lent's throat.
Lent awoke to see Lessa's cold stare; his lips pressed to hers. Lent was so speechless he waited for her to push him off. Remembering she was weak, he quickly got up off of her. His face was paler than usual, and the taste of his blood was on his lips. Lent tried to get the words out to explain his actions, but all he could do was stand there with a blank look on his face. "Although I appreciate the blood, there are other ways to give it to me, worshipper." "I'm so sorry," Lent said and fell to the ground before her. "Get up, Lent," Lessa said in a weak voice. She tried to sit up and could not. Her mind was a jumble flashes of things and of pain. She slid the knife back and watched as Lent got up. She had no idea what had possessed Lent to do that, but he looked just as shocked. She would not press him but as she couldn't move she decided to ask. "Lent, what in the name of the Pillars was that about?"

Novanus flew towards the Pillars. He had fed off another waster who had lain in the streets and now felt as if he had awoken from a long sleep. His body brimmed with energy ready for the next part of the ritual.
"Soul Reaver." The fact that Lessa had said those words before she had been cut off could mean only one thing. The prospect of Lessa having fallen to that flame haired freak was unimaginable to Novanus. Although he couldn't sense her mind he could feel the faint flutter of something against his consciousness. She was still alive. He could feel it. And what had happened to Admar? Was he safe? Novanus would have to wait until he returned to the temple to discover that.
The sky was clear, and Novanus could see for miles with only the feathery clouds occasionally blocking the star-studded canopy above. On the horizon ahead, Novanus could see the Pillars reaching into the night. After not too long, the orangey glow of the Sarafan academy also began to be visible. It was the proximity of the academy which would cause Novanus problems. Although the place was filled with trainees there were some of the most skilled swordsmen and mages that were in Nosgoth, never mind the Sarafan order. Glyph gates and that accursed armor they wore filled the place. Novanus may have been able to fool the eyes and mind of a man, but his abilities could do nothing against that armor. He would have to be very careful everywhere he went. Novanus corkscrewed down to a forest below and landed under the cover of the trees' branches.

Lent's words stumbled out of his mouth as he tried in vain to explain his actions. "I...I was dreaming. I...I didn't know it was you." Lessa looked at him, expecting more. "M-my wife. I was dreaming of her." "Does your wife know you kiss vampires, Lent?" she asked. "She's dead," Lent said mournfully. "The Sarafan..." Lessa could see that the memory was painful. "Tell me," she prodded. Lent told her of his wife, his child, and how the Sarafan had taken everything from him one night. "I arrived there too late. My son was dead and my wife..." Lent tried to hide the tears. "I was too late to save her too." "Five guards and just you. It's amazing you survived," said Lessa. "I could be dead now for all I know. As soon as I saw what had happened I blacked out. I didn't come to till the next morning when I woke up at their grave." "You killed the guards and buried your wife and child while blacked out?" "I don't know if I killed the guards; probably, but I don't know for sure. My cottage was on fire when I came to. Ever since then I'm haunted by nightmares." "That was no nightmare, Lent." "No, that was the first dream where she wasn't being raped." "I'm sorry, Lent." "Don't be, the Sarafan have taken from us all. Besides, it is I who should apologize. I let my emotions get a hold of me, and sinned. I should be asking for your forgiveness." "No need, Lent, I have done stranger things, that I am not going to tell you about, in my time. Grief can do strange things when we sleep. I now often dream of Vorador, so you are not alone in this," Lessa replied in a kind tone. Again she tried to sit up but fell back in exhaustion and pain.

"What happened to Admar? Is he safe?" she asked. Lent walked over to make her comfortable. "Peace, Lessa, he is safe, but you are still in danger. You must sleep and let your blood heal you." Lessa laid down and shut her eyes. She knew now that Lent would not do that again and, maybe, she had helped ease the pain of his wife for him by talking about it. Now exhaustion swept over her, and as the darkness took her again she could not help but wonder if Novanus was ok...

Without the two knowing, Izael had heard the whole conversation. He couldn't remember when he had last slept, or eaten. All he could do was to ponder that question... Who was the evil side in this strange war? He had lived all his life in a black and white dream. And now, as it had turned out, there were no saints. No devils. No "evil" you could kill with a sword. There were good vampires and devious Sarafan. The Sword-saint, the Redeemer, the Sarafan Lord was evil. Izael felt he couldn't breathe. All he had believed in all his life was gone in an instant. However, there was still hope. Fate had granted him a sword which could unite all the races. The chalices could be used to sustain vampires without the necessity to kill humans. Finally, Izael felt he had a purpose. All the Sarafan lies had to be erased from the memory of the people. Another way of living could then be shown to them. And, Izael didn't stand alone. Quietly, he went to sleep for the first time in ages.

Novanus walked stealthily through the forest towards the Pillars. The closer he got to the Pillars, the greater a sense of foreboding filled him. Since he had received the dark gift, his ability to perceive the future had weakened as his other mental abilities had grown. This, needless to say, did cause Novanus a small degree of annoyance, however he had long since left that hurdle behind him.
The trees were dense, leaving little of the sky visible and thus casting the woodland floor in darkness. Novanus walked on, his vampiric eyes allowing him to see just as well as if he were in daylight. The vampire had passed many old campfires and it began to dawn on him that he had most likely landed in an area that the Sarafan used for training. Novanus held back a string of the foulest curses he knew. "Just my luck," he said to himself. As he traveled the shadow-filled forest, Novanus reached out a tendril of thought to locate any possible Sarafan who may be in front of him. He found a group not far from him, directly in his path.
The forest narrowed not too much further on as it abutted two faces of sheer rock. Camped at the only passable point was a group of Sarafan trainees with their sergeant. Novanus had two options: one - kill all of the camp and then possibly have more Sarafan soldiers searching for the group when they didn't report in, or two - put the entire camp to sleep and walk past them all. Novanus chose the latter. He stopped for a moment and made the mental suggestion to 'sleep' to all of the Sarafan camped. Instantly they were all lying on a heap on the floor, asleep. Novanus carried on towards the camp.
As the trees cleared, Novanus began to see the greening glow of a ward gate. "What's a ward gate doing in a forest clearing?" he asked himself. As he approached, Novanus saw that it was not actually a ward gate. Well, not in a strict sense. It appeared the Sarafan had developed a means to compact down their ward gate technology. The generator looked quite bulky and Novanus wondered how the group had transported it down from the academy. Its green glow covered the entire camp and Novanus stood back from it as he telekinetically pushed the lever on the box down with his mind. The ward dropped and Novanus walked through the camp, lighting up a number to suits of armor as he did so. As he left the camp, Novanus reactivated the ward generator. It was not until he had traveled a mile or so before he awoke the inhabitants of the camp. Novanus didn't want to be followed.

It was dusk. Lent had tried to get some sleep after the incident, but it was no use. Rather than deal with his discontentment, he chose to wander through the fields outside of Meridian. He had wanted a chance to quiet his mind with the sounds of birds and insects about, maybe even find a chance to hunt dinner. Now, it was he who was being hunted. Lent found himself hidden in the tall grass of the field as the sound of swords slashing through the air called to him. "Find him, he will tell us where the others are," said a strange woman's voice.
Carefully, Lent made his way through the field, so carefully. One snap of a twig and it would be all over. Lent knew better than to go back to sanctuary. If he did so it would spell disaster. It was best to lead them some where else, but where? Back to the city? "No," Lent thought, "They're here because of Lessa. They followed the direction they were leaving and now looking..."
"I found something," said a guard. "What is it?" inquired the woman. The soldier stabbed at the ground and pulled up a mole. "Just some dumb animal." "Yes, and I see another," said the strange woman while looking at the guard. "I'm sorry, mistress," came the sheepish reply. Lent was close enough to see what was going on. The woman was of average height with dark hair. The woman, although Sarafan, ranked higher than the soldiers. 'The Sarafan are too prejudiced to let a woman out rank them,' Lent thought.
"Don't give me excuses, give me that merchant!" the woman said angrily, showing her two fangs. A vampire! Lent tried not to gasp at the horrible paradox. A Vampire Sarafan? Lent had never heard of such a betrayal before, the whole thing was an oxymoron. The vampiress took a few steps. "He's near," she said. "I can hear his heart beat." The vampiress began to walk towards Lent, the sun was almost set and in the night she was sure to find him. Lent had to run, but where? "The falls," he thought. "It's not too far, and not in the same direction as the others."
The vampiress kept coming towards him. He knew he would be discovered shortly. With a dash of speed, Lent took off, surprising the vampiress who was but an arm's length away from him. Lent ran as fast as he could, but he got no more than a hundred feet and she was already in front of him. "Where are you going, my play thing?" she asked with a smile. Lent already had his whistle in his mouth and sent a high pitched blast from it. The vampiress fell to the ground, screaming and covering her ears while Lent continued to run past her. The sound of a waterfall called him ahead. If he could make it, he could either try to climb up the mountain, or if worse got to worse, wade in the water till help arrived.
Suddenly he was on the ground painfully as a heel dug into his side. "Arghh," he gasped in pain. Lent turned and looked up to find the vampiress standing before him. She swung at him. The last thing he heard before blacking out was the vampiress saying, "Take him to the Keep."