Silence and darkness swallowed him, dizzying lights flashed in every direction in shades of deep purple, red, green….
He was falling. Spinning. Tumbling in a seemingly endless cycle. Sometimes there'd be the twinkling of something bright, something familiar, something holy…
A clock struck loudly, the bells ringing through his bones, seeming to rattle his skull. It felt like midnight, but his eyes were not yet open, he still felt like he was spinning, and he hadn't fully become one with his body again yet. It felt like a violent resurrection, and then the final part;
THUD.
A sudden chill and his spark hit his body like two stars colliding as his body hit a freezing cobbled stone floor three times as hard.
The voice of the devil greeted him from above in an oil-slicked fry,
"Hello, Leon."
He awoke suddenly, puking before he spoke and gasping for air as if he had just been dredged up from the ocean floor. His heart swung and slammed around in his chest. Stars glittered around him and his eyes were painfully wide, feeling as if they were trying to explode from his face. He wasn't even high. All around him was dark but he could eventually make out a few silent shadows and a large window where he could see a deep purple sky and waning crescent moon, huge and bright, sitting directly outside. It cast a solemn pale cloak on the back of the dark silhouette of this mysterious stranger who somehow knew his name. He was tall, clad in deep purple armor that seemed to almost swallow him, and seated on a large, dark throne of sorts. On either side of him, menacing gargoyles glared down with bright red eyes and hooked noses with flared nostrils, judging him in his sorry state.
He was intoxicated, exhausted and vulnerable, feeling more confused than ever before.
"Wha… who are you?!"
The stranger leaned forward and faced away for a moment before looking back at him directly. He couldn't see his face yet, but he could make out the points of his ears, his deathly white hair and his intense glowing purple eyes. He looked back down before hesitantly speaking again.
"...You don't know me, but I know who you are."
Leon was still on the floor, heaving every so often, and the stranger stood up. He was much larger than he had initially appeared, as big as he was tall, even for an elf. He slowly stepped down a short flight of stairs from his throne and began walking towards him, which frightened him a little.
He started to scramble back and struggled to hold in the panic he was feeling.
"W-what do you want from me? Stay back!"
He lifted his right hand and mustered up a feeble astral bolt. It barely scraped the armor and the stranger didn't flinch, only continuing to move closer to him.
Leon continued to crawl backwards until his back hit something cold. He frantically turned and looked up to see another stranger, this time the figure of a woman who was also wearing the same purple armor. She was so still he almost thought she was a statue until she looked down at him with the same gleaming purple eyes, and then he flinched and cowered. More strangers moved in closer, becoming visible under the sliver of pale moonlight that shone through the large arched window and he found himself surrounded.
He hunched over, covering his head with his arms as he shook.
"Argh! I don't know what you want from me but just get it over with! I Don't have anything for you– no money, no connections, no information… I'm bankrupt! I have nothing to my name! I've disgraced my family, my guild, my country, myself. I'm falling apart! Rotting alive like a mindless, empty undead!- So just finish the job already!"
He began to sob again as the group looked around at each other, cringing at the sight of him.
The one who was standing directly behind him scrunched up her nose and stepped back a little from his stench. She looked up at their leader, almost upset.
"This is our mage in question?"
The white haired elf looked directly back at her, glaring into her soul and quickly silencing her.
"Hush, Vitalya. How many times must I remind you that I am to handle the talking!"
She silently looked away, pursing her lips and huffing outwardly through her nose in protest.
"I'm not going to kill you, Leon. I want to help you."
Leon looked up from behind his shaking arms for a moment, into the mysterious and unsettling gaze of this stranger.
"Why would you want to help me? I don't have anything to offer you."
The stranger paused, his eyes looking around pensively, and then he spoke again.
"I… just want to talk. Afterwards, you'll be sent back home, and if you want we can never speak of this again."
"Speak of what? What is this– some shady deal? Look at me, I'm an addict, I'm a wreck. Who even are you and how do you know me? Are you with the vampires? the demons? cultists? Whatever it is, I want no parts!"
Vitalya spoke up again, frustrated.
"Let's just get this over with already, I can't stand the sight or smell of him!"
She drew her sword, whorls of deep purple surrounded the blade and gave it a twilight glow as she lifted it to strike. Leon said nothing, his head remained bowed and he kept his eyes to the floor, awaiting death, something that in his mind he was willing to meet long before ever having to face true accountability…
It did not come.
A few seconds passed and the loud ring of the blade hitting the floor beside him echoed through the room.
He glanced over to the right of him where it fell, and gasped. Suddenly a struggling whisper of Vitalya's voice could be heard, as if she was choking and in pain.
Leon looked up, first at the white haired elf, his hand held out in a tense grasp and streams of a dark, unfamiliar kind of magic flowing from his palm across the circle to her. Then he turned to look up at Vitalya, hovering over the ground and clutching her throat, trying to free herself from the paralyzing chokehold. Everyone else at the circle was silent, but he could feel an air of panic coming from the rest of them. Leon struggled to watch it continue and contemplated saying something to interrupt, but then another voice filled the room from a far corner.
"Enough Merkabriel! Let her go!"
His concentration broke quickly as he dropped her from his grip, and he shook his head as if he had been in a trance.
Vitalya fell to her knees, grabbing her throat and coughing for air.
Another elven woman with long raven black hair, dark eyes which flickered with gold in the irises, and a tall, slender frame drifted towards them. She was pale with a dark, almost gray undertone flush to her skin, and cloaked in black from head to toe. Following behind her was a shifter, an unorthodox demonic pet that could take many forms. It flew as a bird across with her, and then smoothly slid into snake form, elegantly draping itself around her neck, its dark eyes flickering with gold just like hers.
She glanced down at Leon and he looked down quickly, feeling terrified of her, though she smiled at him.
"This is him?"
She whispered over to Merkabriel. They exchanged conversation over telepathy and then finally paused as she looked back down at him.
"Leon… of house de Grandeur, is it?"
He quickly gasped again, but was still too afraid to look her in the eyes. He gulped before answering.
"Y-yes."
"I'm Sathariel. This is my husband Merkabriel. Please forgive us for this rather… unsavory summoning to our home."
Vitalya grabbed her sword and angrily ran from the room without saying a word.
"And I'm also very sorry about Vitalya trying to kill you. She doesn't take too kindly to strangers."
Leon kept his gaze on the floor, still feeling sick, but more aware of what was going on around him, though he didn't know if he even really wanted to make conversation with these strange people in this strange place. An awkward pause continued for a few moments, then he finally broke the silence.
"Vampires."
Sathariel and Merkabriel looked at one another, nervously.
"That's what you are, right?"
Another pause.
"...Well, it's complicated. Some of us came from Vampire clans or broke away from them, but as for me and Merkabriel, we aren't exactly…that."
Leon finally looked up. He studied them both, trying his best to make out whatever details he could in the dark but all he could see aside from the moonlight framing the outlines of their silhouettes were their curious glowing eyes. They definitely appeared to be Elves, but they were definitely also something else. He had encountered Vampires before, but these seemed different.
"Well, what are you?- who are you exactly? And what do you want with me?"
Sathariel glanced over at her husband, telepathically telling him that she would handle the conversation from here. Merkabriel was hesitant, but agreed. One by one, he and the others from the circle left the room, leaving just Leon and her alone.
A deep and pained silence echoed them in the dark room, and they both held still for a while, not knowing whether to be the first to speak.
Sathariel finally obliged.
"I suppose, I should at least tell you more about where you are and who we are, then."
Leon didn't answer.
"Here, let me make the atmosphere more… welcoming."
She lifted her hand and clicked her pale slender, clawed fingers. One by one dozens of candle holders with their many hundreds of candles lit up, setting the room ablaze with a warm golden glow. Leon could finally see everything around him. There were a multitude of huge, black bookshelves with gargoyle carvings sitting along the tops of them with ruby inlays for eyes. Some were filled with ancient titles that he had never seen before, even in the most prestigious libraries and schools of magic in Kania– and he had been to more than a few. Rows and rows of jars, artifacts, and potions lined many of the shelves.
Woven tapestries in reds and purples lined the gothic stone walls of the room, depicting images of serpents with many heads and other creatures of a similar nature. Somehow though, they were elegant and beautiful in their own right.
The room had a high ceiling and a dome which housed many intricate paintings of gaunt figures that looked much like her, dressed in finery and many magical and demonic looking creatures flying around them, serving them, and seated beside some of them– many were unlike any creatures he had ever seen or heard of before. One of the paintings pictured a black and gold astral ship with a figurehead of a three-headed jinn-like apparition holding a golden bleeding heart. Leon was taken aback.
"What is this place?"
Sathariel smiled proudly and moved closer to him
"You should see the rest of the fortress…. And the garden!- It is my pride and joy. Come, let us get you cleaned up, and we can talk there. I will send you back to Lightwood once we are done."
Before Leon could speak, she raised her scepter in the air, waving it in a figure eight, and then clapped her hands three times. Immediately, several soot-black horned imps appeared out of shadows between the cobbles on the floor and danced around him, creating a magical pillar of mist that covered him completely. When they finished, she summoned a large coffin shaped mirror and floated it towards him so he could see his reflection. He was in shock. The colour had returned to his skin, he was dressed in a black and purple silk suit that made him look like some sort of Vampire King. He looked like he had never touched alcohol in his life. For a second the shock of seeing his old self made him stagger backwards, and that's when he realized he also felt a lot better.
"I … I look…"
"I hope this will fare you well for now, Don't worry, when you get back home you will have your other robes back, good as new."
She clapped her hands again and the mirror along with the magical imps disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Leon was both perplexed and curious at what he'd just witnessed.
"Some kind of summoning magic, and alchemy, but I've never seen that before… what is your discipline?"
She smiled again, and reached a slender hand out to him.
"I've much more to show you when we head to the garden. I'll teleport us there now."
Leon hesitated, but slowly placed his hand in hers. He took a moment to study it, devoid of the color that he had, the lightly veined translucent skin hanging delicately over her bones, so fragile and yet framed elegantly by her pale pointed nails, they were beautiful. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers once more.
"I'm ready."