Thread: Blood Lust (Lady Bloody Ava & Erit of Eastcris)

His smile faded for a moment after her refusal of the offer to see if the stories were more than just that, replaced by a more distant, almost meditative stillness as his mind worked it's way into the situation. It was silliness, really, how each side of the conflict whipped itself into a frenzy towards the other, over tales and stories long since faded to obscurity. If Aerin had never known of the myths and had never set foot on the battlefield, would he still bear hatred towards the house of Beaumont? A difficult question considering how severely the hypothetical contrasted the reality, but he supposed that if he had met the woman before him in another time or place, he would have considered her a friend, or at least a pleasant acquaintance. But he had met her in this time, in this place, and so it was with hesitation that he would admit to saying he trusted the Lady Beaumont not to put a knife in his back. Her mention of his own family brought the smile back, though, along with thoughts of Aeren. As soon as the sun set, he would have to leave regardless of the servant's message, he knew she would be worried, waiting by the door for his return. He doubted there was any sister better than his own, as faithful and loving. Then again, most siblings did not enjoy the same comforts as the twin Laccetas. Falling in love isn't necessary for an arranged marriage of political convenience. He sighed and leaned back in still repose, In fact, some would say that the less in love the two are, the better. We may look out for ourselves, but there are none else who would aid us. Or at least, there were. He opened his eyes to see his host had fallen asleep before he had spoken, and couldn't keep himself from gazing. This woman had likely been raised to know and hate his family, but she gave few such impressions. She sheltered his wounded as well as her brothers', she sheltered even him , the embodiment of her family's enemy. And she held enough trust in him, it seemed, to be able to sleep comfortably in the same room as he. He watched her, for a time, contemplating why she would work herself to such profound exhaustion in a war seemingly without end. Then he simply admired her peaceful appearance, and the fragility of that peace. He could not help but want such a thing, never needing to fight again even a one who feasted on the life of men could have his fill after so many years of battle after chaotic, blood-soaked battle. There were few days gone by that Aerin didn't look back at his mortal days and feel a sense of loss, not of innocence or goodness, but of freedom. That scent of forgotten pleasure filling his nose snapped the young Lacceta away from his reverie. A faint sound reached his ears, then, as the Lady Beaumont's seemingly superficial wound did what most annoying cuts did bleed prolifically. His eyes were inadvertently drawn to the small puddle of red on the cold stone of the floor, and the blood-drinker licked his lips without realizing. Silent as his grave, he rose to his feet and went to the woman, dipping a fingertip to the coin-sized splash of what was supposedly the greatest treasure his kind could know. As much from curiosity as from a silent urging from deep within his being, he touched his tongue to the few drops' worth of blood on his finger. Suddenly, it made sense. He knew, then, why all those many years ago this conflict had started. The taste was no different, but suddenly he sensed anew he saw the vibrancy of the colors surrounding him, felt the infinitesimal differences in the temperature of the air surrounding him, smelled the faintest aromas of flora and the tinge of blood from the woman before him. He heard, as well the faint groans and whimpers of the dying, the rasping, labored breathing of the wounded. And the coming on the rabid servant he had seen bound before. The sound of the conflict boomed in his ears, and the vampire couldn't help but flinch it sounded like thunder beside him in comparison, almost deafening. He went to the doors, his legs moving far too quickly and almost throwing him through the wood. A sound like wrath washed over him as the doors shook from an outside assault, and Aerin fumbled briefly with his too-swift limbs to open it, meeting the gaze of his former soldier. The thrall's eyes were a dull, glazed-over black, marking a sad truth that he had stopped being a half-turned servant of the house of Lacceta and instead become a ghoul. A walking corpse devoid of any thought or emotion, possessed only of a desire to feed and destroy. It was unknown how they came to be, only that they possessed many of the strengths as their former masters and an animalistic fury as well, making them dangers to even Aerin. Normal Aerin, at any rate the Aerin with a Beaumont's power flooding him reached out to the creature before him and set about dismembering it before tearing it's dead heart out of it's chest with startling ease.