Path of the Vampire forum

OOC Note: We have fixed my profile issues. This is being reposted so that we can officially write it- please ignore/delete (if you have the authority) the other one.



The earth had been damp- soaked and broken. It had moved to accommodate her form, making a mould of her body within itself as it encased her. Still cold as it was untouched by the sun’s rays, it lulled her into a vampiric sleep as her form attempted to conserve as much energy as possible… the girl had been exhausted, tired as if she’d never known a night’s rest before. Yes, she was still a young vampire and that change had increased her powers, but the drowsiness had near enough blinded her.

A large warm hand pressed against her ribs, pushing firmly and easing her further into the earth. She wasn’t certain who it belonged to, but the girl didn’t recall being there with anyone… in fact, there was very little that she did recall. She’d left the hotel for a hunt, had been pursuing a nameless victim, and then there was this baptism of rain and mud.

It felt as if weights had been fitted to her ankles- they sank deeper and pulled at her thigh muscles, straining her ligaments, causing an ache in her hips and back. She tried to lift them, to gain knowledge at least of how heavy the weights were and spent the last of her energy in doing so. Lilianne lay there limp and shackled, unaware that more earth was being thrown onto her burial ground… unaware that they’d finally caught up to her.

--
“D’ya think those weights’ll be enough?”

Two faces stared down at the fresh plot as they threw the last bit of dirt over her body. Rain, sweat, dirt and her blood all streamed down their arms and shovels. The men wore a familiar sinister black crest on their coats and wary grins on their faces as if they had defeated a long-pursued target… but they hadn’t. She wouldn’t die and they knew that this was a hopeful patch, but 8 of their team had been taken out since they’d infiltrated Harper Rock. Returning with two was a minimum requirement.

“It’ll keep her long enough for us to go. We need to report back before one of us gets killed.”

The second man picked up a long silver rod and aimed it at where he was sure her heart would be. “Right, for security then. Giv’t a good whack.”

With a deep chuckle, the first hammered the rod into the earth until it was no longer visible. They walked away almost sure that they’d done enough, and each step taken that wasn’t met with her rising lifted weight from their shoulders. By the time the chartered plane was boarded, the two men could have kissed each other in relief as she hadn’t reappeared.

She remained in the earth; still and in a deep slumber as the dirt hardened around her, an inch deeper than the rod could reach.

Habren and Mircea had made their way back into the City limits long enough for them to settle in and for Habren to set up the new shop, but old habits died hard no matter how accessible she found herself. In or out of Harper Rock, the witch often kept tabs on her childer and their childer, along with anyone dear to them who did not share their blood. Typically it was on a nightly basis, until her concerns were assuaged enough to move further out to weekly check ins. Peeks into memories and generally looking into locations was, in her estimation, something to reassure both herself and Mircea that the lineage, scattered and independent as it was, thrived in its own way. And besides, neither one was ever completely out of reach – a fact Habren tried desperately to remind herself of whenever they were far away. Someone would reach out if help was needed. Right?

But her paranoia didn’t allow one-hundred percent faith that that was always true, and on this particular night, that would end up being a blessing in disguise.

Once they were home and settled, a message was nearly always sent to the line to alert them and open themselves up for visiting, advice, or simply company. No one was obligated, of course, but there was the small handful who would regularly drop in and visit, or at least acknowledge the message. The youngest of her childer was one and Habren had been on tenterhooks awaiting some sort of response for the better part of the week.

A night went by, then two. Then four. And at last, after expressing to Mircea the multitude of worries that had descended upon her slender shoulders, the witch was unable to keep herself from reaching out again with her telepathic abilities to try and track her down. It was an unusual step, one she refrained from using against her own blood unless it was dire, but it had been ages since Lilianne had failed to check in and that alone was reason enough.

As she concentrated, an image of heavy, wet Earth, hard-packed and drying, was all she could see, though, and a tremble made its way down her spine. Further assessment revealed injuries and Habren was uncertain for how long she’d been to ground. She was no Killer, though, and about as fussy about dirt as a few others the witch knew. Being in the ground made zero sense unless she had been desperate.

Triangulation gave her a decent idea and, with a brief kiss pressed to Mircea’s mouth, the woman teleported to the closest coordinates she could to the place she’d tracked her childe, and began the search for freshly turned ground. But the scene around her was filled with various headstones and crypts and the witch could hardly help the curse that slipped from her lips. There would be too many places that might work, in such a place. Her gaze narrowed as she frantically searched for a new grave, one that wasn’t as fresh as brand-new, perhaps, one that might be scented with the light, flowery perfume Habren had come to associate with the girl. Had someone assumed she was a dead mortal, or were there far more sinister things afoot?

A brief message was sent directly to Mircea’s thoughts, alerting him to the suspicions racing through her head, and her plan, as her gaze finally lit upon a plot that might fit the bill. Without delay, Habren began shifting the Earth about, as quickly as she could, leaving a pile beside her. Within a painful, drawn out hour, she had managed to find nearly the end of a long silver rod, yanking it from the Earth with surprising ease. Her brows drew together, a rage fueling her because now, now there was no question of the suspicions filling her brain. That piece of precious metal was not there by any mistake she could fathom and she alerted Mircea to as much as she kept going. A couple more minutes of digging revealed a slender, pale hand, and then more of her form, at last. Habren finally uncovered enough of her that she could manage to drag the still form of her childe from the grave and laid her down, carefully, at its side. Simultaneous relief and worry gripped at her in equal measure as she yanked manacles and weights from her limbs, as the girl lay as still as death, despite finally being freed from the dark depths.

“Lilianne. Wake up. You must Wake. Up.”

As she gently shook her, another message was sent to her husband. “Mircea. I have found her, and it is nothing good…”

Lilianne sat between realms, one leg curled beneath her while her arms wrapped around the other, chin resting on her knee. She sat, watching a memory of her child- self playing with a doll her wet nurse had hand stitched for her. Other than the small playful voice, the space around her was silent.

As she laid in the earth, her mind had worked to compile fonts of missing information. Everything from the depths of her dark childhood to the night she’d been cast into this void was neatly knit together as she lay dormant night after night. The hunter’s attack on her had been particularly difficult to recall and even the threads that laced through those found memories seemed to be tinted with some sort of hesitation; as if not quite sure of the truth.

The young girl could clearly remember killing several of her attackers, but the rest of that night flickered between faded realities and a sense of sleepy euphoria. She’d been punctured with something and without weapons and the slow approach of the rising sun, Lilianne had faded fast. Since drifting, she’d lost track of the passing of time and had spent every moment of consciousness recalling memories.

Easing to her back, fingers laced beneath her head, she shut her eyes and imagined the star lit sky she’d spent her youth mooning over. Though she’d been isolated from the world, she’d been gifted an unobstructed and unpolluted view of the sky at night. It was her first clue to there being much more than she had been led to believe.

As she lay there in silence, her wrists began to tingle, followed shortly after by her ankles. It felt as if they were all light as feathers. Not understanding what could be causing this sensation, Lilianne opened her eyes, finding the child version of herself looming above her, a silent scream contorting her face. The space around her began to quake and a muffled outcry filled the silence. It was loud, but she could not make out the words. The child then grabbed both of her arms and shook her, a banshee scream emitting from her small form.

“Lilianne. Wake up. You must Wake. Up.”
The realm around her faded quickly, pain seering through her skull as she tried to open her eyes. She recognised the voice immediately- it was Habren. That all made sense, the pain from the injuries she had sustained did not.

Managing a small sound and a light squeeze to Habren’s arm, she opened her powder blue coloured eyes.

Mircea had been slow to wake that evening. So much so that it seemed Habren had gone to hunt alone, though from the scent of her still lingering on her pillow, she could not have been too long gone.

It was as he moved from bedroom to living room that the first of Habren’s thoughts brushed against his mind, warning of concerns for her youngest childe and her intentions to seek her out, whatever trouble she may have found herself in.

“You’re up,” came Michael’s voice from the couch he occupied as Mircea entered the room. A hand slid softly through Michael’s hair with a light greeting as he passed and on towards the kitchen. It had largely been set up to cater for their humans’ preferences, since it was most often they who had use for the room, but there were provisions for vampires available should they have guests or simply prefer not to hunt actively and it was to these that Mircea turned to try and ease the steadily growing thirst. He was barely halfway through his first drink of the night when thoughts not his own stirred within his mind once more.

“Mircea. I have found her, and it is nothing good…”

For Habren to be making such prolific use of her telepathy in so short a span of time, she must consider the situation to be dire indeed. He set down his drink and turned back to the living room and Michael. “I must go,” he said, answering the inquisitive look on his human’s features before it could become the question forming in his mind, “Habren has found trouble with Lilianne, but I do not know what kind.” The curiosity became a concerned frown; Michael had been with them long enough and experience enough by then to seldom delve all the way towards worry, but concern was a common enough state whenever they were in Harper Rock - especially recently. “Stay here. Stay safe and we will return as soon as we are able,” he added, brushing a kiss across the other man’s brow before he left, and pulling a coat on on his way out the front door.

Habren’s thoughts had provided enough direction to send him on his way towards them, easily eating up the distance with long, loping strides. Once in the general vicinity, however, he had to slow down to more closely pinpoint where he might find them. He breathed deeply as he walked between the headstones and the whispers of the dead-not-resting that some housed, seeking out the familiar scent of Habren and using it to guide his steps.

“Emilian,” he said, his voice turning cold for the first time that evening as the ethereal wraith and so often the bane of Mircea’s life, mortal and otherwise, appeared beside him. The two may have despised one another for as long as either had lived, but his shade was the one that the gods had granted to serve him and so there was little else to be done about it. “Something untoward has happened here of late, but I do not know yet what. Find out and report back to me.” The wraith disappeared in the middle of giving a sarcastic bow. Mircea doubted anything of use would come back - not from Emilian, at least - but giving a command that he was compelled to obey would at least keep him out of the way for the time being and rid them of one potential distraction.

“Habren!” He called as he finally laid eyes upon her... Eyes that then travelled to the form lying on the ground beside her. “Is she...” He had been going to ask if she was dead, but it made no sense to finish the sentence. There would be no body were she dead, which left the only question as to how grave the situation was and how grave it may yet become.

Habren watched with utter relief as Mircea joined her side and then as Lilianne’s eyes slowly opened. She closed her own for a brief moment, taking a breath and centering herself in order to multiply blood within her childe’s veins and try to help her along as best she could for the time. Otherwise, she was at a loss as to what the girl might need, but her anxiety was rising by the moment. They were too exposed there, no matter that it was nightfall.

“Thank the dark gods,” she breathed out, a grateful look sent his way that he was, as ever, a steady and supportive presence at her side, no matter the sort of troubles they may face. “She is awake, Mircea… I think she is coming around…” The sooner the better, too, she thought, so they might have the opportunity to find those responsible. She couldn’t be sure until Lilianne confirmed it, but aside from hunters, Habren could only think those who had ever stalked the girl, from her mortal life, could be the ones responsible.

“Let us get her home, my Love… and then we can hopefully get to the bottom of this.” She knew full well, though, that Mircea would already be investigating, hunting for those who may have had a hand in such a nefarious attack. She would happily leave him to it once Lilianne was settled, the better to dispatch those responsible in ways only he had ever been deliciously capable of. Well she knew, too, how motivated he was when any of their blood was threatened. It was a comfort to know it would only be a matter of time.

Habren lifted the still-quiet form of her childe in her arms and prepared to teleport them back to one of their more private residences – waiting solely for Mircea’s next move before she made her own.

Mircea kelt at Habren’s side as she confirmed that Lilianne seemed to be coming back to them from wherever she had been sent. He looked between the two women, then to the grave from which Lilianne had been exhumed and around the area, over manacles and chains, as he attempted to piece together what had happened before finally returning his thoughts and gaze to the immediate.

“I told Michael to remain at home. He can help,” he agreed simply with a nod as he regained his feet. He gave the area another sweeping look before he was completely satisfied they were alone. How long had Lilianne been buried for? How long before that had she been injured? The only timeline they had to go by was the last time she had checked in with Habren, but that still left plenty of scope and potentially plenty of time for her attackers to have made their escape or otherwise gone to ground.

“Are you well to carry her, my love?” He asked, as one might ask another if they wanted help with their grocery bags or when they were trying to carry one too many cups of coffee. His own hand, meanwhile, reached towards his belt where... There was nothing. Ileana remained at home, such had been his hurry to leave and reach this place. He huffed out a breath, distaste at his own foolishness expressed in the passing of air, but he flexed his fingers once, twice and, on the third time, they twisted and stretched with a series of cracks, the previously short nails replaced by claws that would have to suffice in the event of anything... unwelcome crossing their path.

“Once you are both safely home and I have collected Ileana, I shall see if I can pick up the trail of whoever did this,” he said, knowing Habren had likely already deduced as much. They worked well this way together; he could keep people alive where the cause for their wounds was obvious enough, but this sort of recovery was far more her speciality and, with the trail potentially as old as he thought, he was more... gifted, he supposed, in finding and following it. “I swear not to leave you out should I find them,” he added with a faint, haunted smile, his eyes on Lilianne.

The scent and feel of the earth fell away as fresh blood moved through her form. She became acutely aware of where she was and as she tilted her head to the grave site, eyes falling on the engraved shackles and silver stake, clarity struck. The cult zealots had tried to dispose of her.

Even with the help of her ancient sire, Lilianne still hadn’t found her footing as a fledgling. Every aspect of her vampiric life, up to and including the ease with which she used her magic, all had to be relearned- as if she’d been reset at her turning. As a result, she wasn’t strong enough to withstand these sorts of situations on her own. Once the cultists had injected her with what she now suspected to be their weaponised silver compound, the rest had been simple. Despite the injuries, her body seemed to have been able to maintain and heal just enough to keep her from perishing, but the rest would take months to sort out.

Still unable to speak, she tried to curl her fingers around the cloth of Habren’s sleeve. She needed to figure out a way to get her to really look at the stake and shackles. She was a practiced enough thief to know that if they left, the items would be gone within the hour and any hope of tracking the hitmen would be lost… but every method of communication she knew was, for the moment, lost.

As the blood began to move the silver through her again, she faded back into an unconscious state.