Whoo! This chapter we finally get to Umah! (Poor Umah, I have her just waiting around for death, unaware that Rose and Kain are bickering their way to her rescue.)And am I glad of it. I tried to get her into the last chapter, I tried so hard, but she just didn't want to go into it. Ah, well, we're there now, and– BUM, BUM, BUUUUUM!– We meet the Sarafan Lord face to face for the first time in the next chapter!!!!!!!!! (It really wasn't all that dramatic in the game, was it?) How will he react to Umah being lose?! How will he react to Kain being alive?! How will he react to Rose in general!? (And on another note, how will Rose react to him? Please tell me; I really don't know.) All that and more in this upcoming chapter! Ahem, I'm done now . . . P.s. Sorry if the opening lil' thing is kinda dry, but it does have some important things that sorta put gears (in your head) into motion . . . I think.

f.y.i most of that name stuff is kinda unnecessary, you know, the list of the deceased it kinda just rambles on and on and on... So, feel free to skip it.

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Royal Family Attacked . . .

... And Massacre Ensues!

The newly crowned queen, her husband (the king), their children, and her brother (Prince Doewell) and his wife and seven children went out for a picnic with the family in order to celebrate the arrival of royal families' newest addition (Princess Lilly) yesterday afternoon when they were brutally attacked by a small gathering of militia men, numbering about twenty. The king and queen and queen's brother are, reportedly, unharmed, but all three are grieving greatly for the loss of their children (and also for the beloved wife of Prince Doewell). All of the royal children and guards present were killed on sight, wether it was by glyph magic or being stabbed to death by one of the militia men. A list of the deceased goes as follows:

(As born of her majesty, the queen) Prince Orell Lamure, Prince Navien Lamure, Prince Davien Lamure, Princess Umeli Lamure, Princess Candid Lamure, Prince Bernard Lamure, Princess Mayania Lamure, Prince Warren Lamure, Prince Azren Lamure, Prince Lester Lamure, Prince Wren Lamure, Prince Adian Lamure, Princess Lilly Lanure– the princesses Rose, Daisy, and Orchid had remained at home due to continuing severe illness– (as born of Lady Serine Kaeyon, wife of Prince Doewell Kaeyon) Lady Laurena Kaeyon, Lady Katydid Kaeyon, Lady Machi Kaeyon, Mister Conell Kaeyon, Lady Wade Kaeyon, Lady Quiescent Kaeyon, Lady Tear Kaeyon, and their gracious mother, Lady Serine Kaeyon (of the brave and mighty royal guard) Sir Breston Baker Warrington, Mister Adom Landur, Mister Kiel Casity, Mister Lude Nelson, Mister Jason Jastem, Mister Awatem Borrell, and mister Consent Vicente. It is also noted that fourteen of the fifteen aggressors that were felled are yet unnamed, if you are missing a loved-one and suspect that they were involved, the royal family is most aggrieved and is holding the bodies; should you claim your loved-one, you will not be held responsible for their actions and your's, and your family's record will be considered clean of this offence: The know aggressors; Amax Bronel. Forty-two deaths, total.

The presence of Glyph magic points to one of the royal family as the leader of the militia men, a few unnamed inhabitants of the royal palace have openly named Prince Chistine Kaeyon– the only child from the first wife of the late King Secrety of Kaeyon, and named unfit to be the successor to the throne due to his mother being of a people other than the Hylden race – as the mutinous royal family member in the short amount of time since the tragedy occurred. The prince and his vampire wife, Halliana, have since gone missing, and Prince Doewell has ordered his arrest upon sight. There have been no arrests thus far, and anyone with information regarding the identity of the few still living militia men involved are urged to reveal their information to the authority immediately.

Prince Doewell threw the newspaper aside, that had been yesterday, and what did this morning bring? More tragedy. Two of the three of his very sick nieces, the last of the children, had just died. The article said they grieved, they did not; there had been no time to grieve. When they got back to the palace after the attack, they still had had Orell, Candid, and Katydid, but only just. After the older of the children had survived the glyph magic, the men with swords had come to cut them down. And they did; they cut down Navien and Davien and Umeli and Bernard and Laurena and Machi and Conwell and Wade. First they sent a wave of death, took out the weak, the young, then they came with swords . . .

Orwell and Candid and Katydid bled to death, his children and kin dying in their very beds, in more physical pain each passing moment, pain because they had hoped to save them . . . No, there was still no time to grieve. As fate would have it, as a cruel god would have it, the condition of his three young nieces worsened as they had slaughtered the other children. Now Daisy and Orchid were dead too. His heart yearned for his children back, yearned for his wife back, yearned for his sister's children back. He loved his sister's children like they were his own, they were his family. Now, only one left. Only one. He had no hope for her, though he prayed for one. No, he prayed no longer to such an unfeeling god, he would not pray, he wished with all his heart that she did have one. He squeezed his eyes shut, tight enough that it hurt, head turned toward the small window that let in much of the sweet early-morning light despite its size. He let out a small breath and forced himself to watch death shatter his heart once more, but what he saw when he turned around wasn't death, it was a miracle.

Rose, who had been in a fit, on the verge of death, was sitting up, unaided. They were alone together (Prince Doewell had shooed away all of the servants for a private death, her mother and father were resting after holding her trembling and sweating hands all night.). He merely stared at her in disbelief, the bombardment of sadness from the other day refusing to let this small cause for joy take to his mind.

"Uncle?" She said in a small, clear voice, looking up into his green eyes as if this were any other normal day. She waited a beat but didn't seem to be looking for a response, for she continued without prompt or answer. "I know the answer to Azren's riddle now, it's the ocean . . . "

"Guard!" He shouted abruptly, the tears, the pain, the happiness, all coming out in the same rushing manor. "Guard! Fetch your king and queen! Your princess wakes! Rose lives! Rose is well!" and then he ran at her madly, emotion commissioned, and through his arms around her small body, fragile from sickness and youth, hugging her for all it was worth. Rose put her arms around him, patiently easing his pain and solidifying his felicity, saying nothing as the great sobs from her uncle shook them both in irregular waves.

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"Excuse me sir! Madam!" The man shouted at them, waving his arms madly as he ran when they tried approaching the small doors. "Excuse me," he repeated as he caught up, panting slightly from the short run. "Excuse me, but I am to make sure all patrons are safe . . . You cannot access your room through that door . . . Actually, you're not to be allowed to go back to your rooms, there has been a vampire attack and they believe he (or she I dare say, we have a female vampire locked up to be executed at dawn, but do not worry, she is secure) he might still be here. I must say that you'll be plenty safe with the rest of the patrons and nobles . . . Worry not of matters of privacy tonight! You'll each only be sharing with one other . . . One other couple I should say, and no questionable fellows to... steal the flower of the lady here, no, that would be terrible! No sir, madam, we would not tolerate such people here... Now, if you would please follow me, Sir, Madam . . . " He said, seemingly all in one breath. Kain and Rose glanced at each other than glanced back at the man, being backed into the wall by their subtle advances, he would be leading them nowhere.

"By god," said Rose in a hushed, awestruck voiced after an uncomfortable few seconds of silence and the man's fidgeting. "You talk more than I do!" And with those parting words, Kain put one claw to his throat and his other hand to the man's mouth. The scream never came, never had a chance to.

The gaze Kain filled him with had stolen his voice away. Kain had not killed him . . . yet. He let the fear fill the man's body from head to toe. Kain waited patiently for it, filling his own eyes with hate and death and the promises of pain and let it flow over, spill into the other man. Kain could feel it build, feel it taint him until a single tear spilled out of one of the man's wide, frightened eyes. Only then did Kain kill him, only then did he grant such a mercy.

Kain and Rose continued on, Rose even agreed with Kain on which direction they should be going using logic apposed to a childish whim, maybe Rose wanted this to end just as much as Kain did and cooperated for time's sake . . . They were too close to Umah and so close to ending this accursed mission Kain could feel victory crawl under his skin. (They even made it with a few hours to spare until dawn broke the horizon . . . Assuming the Sarafan would wait for true dawn, that is.) He was excited for the end, he must admit. Connection or no connection, he couldn't wait for some blessed personal space, a concept that Rose didn't seem to understand.

Personal space, how he longed for even the cramped environment Rose had created when they weren't playingas intimate as they were now! They were once again pretending to be mere humans. Unfortunately for Kain, acting the couple was a far easier guise to pull than acting the friendly acquaintance. Fewer scornful eyes, less gossip, less intrigue, less notice. Kain liked the idea of less notice, even more than he hated the idea of being this close to Rose for such a prolonged period of time.It didn't matter now, it would all soon be over and Rose wouldn't have to put another silk-enclosed finger on him.

They had taken the easiest route, it seemed, for they had not run into a single guard that could sense Kain's vampirism. One would expect they would, it was almost suspicious that they didn't, but no, this one was actually accredited to blind luck for once. From what they gathered from the chitter-chatter they got, the Sarafan had run into a spot of truly bad luck when one of the vampires that worked for them met a bizarre end and another had disappeared. News of which, delighted Rose. ("I do so like irony . . . " was her explanation when asked.) Not only that, but the humans who were servants in the sarafan stronghold seemed avert to ask them questions or disturbing their way in any form, they had actually killed one of a pair and the other had simply pretended not to see! Oh the delight of over privileged nobles! How easy it made their work!

They had been strolling down a corridor that was clearly not meant for public passing and anyone they had met had simply taken a deep bow as they went by as acknowledgment. Yet, was it not for Rose, Kain might have been enjoying himself. Rose was not being out of line, no, he knew how to handle that, she was simply being a weight on his arm. It had, against all probability, reminded him of his mother. She had been a weight, never helping herself, always relying on him and his father. A pathetic thing she was . . .

Kain looked away from this particular memory, his past did not interest him – the present, however, did. They had stopped, and for good reason. They had come upon a clearing, the guards patrolling heavily, and what was best – an eery, befitting mist had settled over everything, wonderful. The guards were guarding something, and Rose was undoubtedly curious and Rose could not put aside a curiosity – no matter how small – and Rose, no matter how quiet or good she was, could not get past all thirty of them without causing a disturbance. Now she would be in a quandary, she absolutely must sate her curiosity, but she absolutely must not ruin their cover, so what to do? Why! Kain would do! He can sneak through the mist! He can remain unseen! Kain could feel her mind process this, feel the tiny little impulse to say "to hell with it! I'm more important!" He could feel the jolt of frustration as she realized she could do nothing but sit by and let him get away. Kain could hardly believe his luck! For one glorious moment, in a night filled with the muck and putrescence that Rose was so fond of emitting, Kain could have one minute without her clammy hand at his arm.

"Kain," she said quietly, "do be a dear . . . " There was no need for her to finish her sentence, Kain had already slipped from sight into the mist. She stayed in the safety of the shadows to wait impatiently for Kain's return.

Kain loved becoming the mist. Not just because he got to get away from Rose, but the entire feel of it. He loved to feel his victims' bodies stiffen with terror as he whispered death into their ears, loved un-vailing himself and watching their faces crumple into a fear that was almost reverence, loved to hear their hearts beat and blood rush as they called "Who's there?" He loved to kill them, especially as the mist.

They never had a chance, the entire plane they stood on was covered in it, and should they get away from him, they had Rose to contend with– Rose who was waiting, hungry for the kill, waiting at the only way in and the only way out. He grinned as he tore the head off of the first human, he felt a giddy rush as he pulverized the bones of the second, a familiar sadistic giggle escaped his throat as he shoved his hand through the small of one's back and out the other side, his giggle blossomed into a maniacal cackle when he tore the last in two. The whole time, he did not feed his blood lust, there would be time enough for that latter, now he sated his death lust. He gave into the pleasure of the kill, the lone thing he had let stay from his human days, the lecherous want for death.

He was standing in a field of bright, tantalizing, fresh blood. There seemed to be too much blood, too much for the few that he had killed. It had always surprised him how much blood one human could have every time he took all of it, to the last drop. There were a few stray limbs and hapless bodies thrown down where ever Kain saw fit to drop them, and over it all, the mist settled, quiet and peaceful, so that you could only see the beautiful death through what seemed an unreal filter. Rose touched his arm and he shifted his gaze to meet hers, she nodded her head towards a small protuberance off the wall, it had a door and it looked as though they had stumbled upon Umah's prison.