Alchimia Rex

Eva was going to die.

The hunger gripped her, gnawing at her from the inside. It was a twisting agony in her stomach that spread all over her like rot. She was dying. She could almost feel her own body as it tried to eat itself from inside. Some glimmer of sanity acknowledged this was all in her mind, that it was all instincts of a body that she'd been forced to inhabit, that she could survive for much longer without serious consequences.

It didn’t matter; the knowledge did not make the hunger any lesser. There was only room for hunger. Hunger and fear for her life. Something had scared her, something that had left the impression of her impending doom by the most dangerous thing in existence. Eva was running and stumbling as she went, too weak to fight. She had to escape the terror. She had to find food.

The shadows were her only respite.

All around her, screams.

Death.

Fear.

Blood.

Food.

The darkness was not an obstruction to her eyes. To her the world was a scale of grays, punctuated by the red blood. Sweet sustenance, flanked by danger in every direction. But the hunger screamed and drowned her thoughts. So Eva lunged at the dying thing that was spilling the most lifeblood. The Fledgling sank her fangs and drank. Long deep gulps that sated the unrelenting thirst.

Drinking was more important than breathing, and Eva nearly choked as she clutched at the thing that was keeping her alive. With every gulp, the pain abated, her body stopped shaking, and clarity slowly returned to her. It started with color returning to the world, followed by a mild realization of her immediate surroundings, of the roars and the clash of fists and blades. There was a fight going on.

Her reaction to that was not to run, but to shift and make herself harder to spot. To hide under the shadows of her source of sustenance while continuing to feed.

Next came the broader context. This was a fight, yes, but one between two factions. One… one faction had hurt her, threatened her, chained her, starved her. Immediately Eva looked for something that might help her recognize which was which, who she should hate. But this was no formal war; there were no uniforms or insignias. It looked more like an open brawl, the combatants themselves engaging with whoever they thought was a foe.

The next layer of awareness brought her realization that the brawl was only a part of the picture, only a piece of the puzzle.

The larger and more savage maidens fought against one another with fists. The blows would cripple but did not kill. Yet the same could not be said for the other breeds. The green-skins would fight against other breeds with drawn clubs, spears, and unflinching brutality. And the Fledglings, if spotted, would become the favored target of everyone else. A mass of green rage that would rip the shadow-walkers to shreds. Only following the massacre by going back into the bare-fisted brawl.

Eva tugged at the corpse, dropping it against a wall so that she would have better cover to hider under.

She didn't stop feeding.

Satiation brought the final dregs of clarity.

And Evans Bavtha blinked in dawning horror.

The former head of the Bavtha household looked upon herself and shuddered, blood covering just about every inch of her naked body.

Reality returned in an avalanche, bringing with it memories. The Vampire, the attack, the darkness, the fog, the hunger, then waking to a new world, a new body, a new species. And now this. She’d lost her mind. The craving had taken over with such ferocity she’d even…

Eva used her claws to cut the clothes of her unfortunate meal, turning them into rags to wipe off the blood from her body as best she could. She tried to ignore the alien sensations of her body. The familiarity of her maiden form took but a second to settle in. Just like the instincts that drove her to hunger, so did her body deny her the ability to feel like her flesh was a stranger. Or perhaps it was her own attempt to ensure her survival.

The Fledgling knew, intellectually, that the emotions she should feel, that Evans Bavtha would feel, were not the ones currently running through her.

The blood and death lingered in the air like a sweet nectar.

Huddled under the mass of flesh and muscle that was the dead Orc, Eva pushed away the needless musings, fashioning the rags into something that provided a semblance of modesty. Her mind focused on how to escape this nightmarish place. Yet as she was finishing tying the knots on the improvised shirt when she caught a whiff of something even more alluring.

It was blood, but very different to that of her most recent victim. A speckle of fresh blood on the back of her hand. The Fledgling looked at the reddest red, leaning down to inhale and shudder at the smell of it. So rich and filling, making her body glow with warmth. One lick and the stain was gone, all that it left behind a taste of lighting upon her tongue.

And the awareness of who it belonged to.

Rick.

The final set of memories unlocked. Eva shuddered again. She had nearly killed Rick. No, even with how distorted the memory felt, she was sure he was not long for this world. Of all the things she had done since being cursed by that loathsome Vampire, attacking a fellow human was the lowest she had ever fallen.

The repugnance came to her naturally this time, and Eva almost appreciated the irony of the feeling. At last she'd found something her mind and body seemed to agree on.

“BLOOD-SUCKER!”

There was a flash of pain, something sharp digging into Eva’s shoulder.

The Fledgling cried out, kicking away at her attacker. A Goblin. The green maiden had snuck up on her. Eva quickly turned to the darkness, jumping to the nearest safe spot before another attack could come. The shadows invited her in their gentle embrace, choking the air out of her lungs the moment she went too deep, only allowing her sweet air when she came out, far from her attacker.

Though she'd escaped the Goblin, she was still within the brawl. Violence surrounded her in every direction. There was no escape, no clear path out. All Eva could do was hide and hope the spot she'd chosen would prove safe, if only for a minute.

Before her, an Orc was fighting a group of Goblins, slapping them out of the way as they lunged with improvised clubs and sharp teeth. The taller maiden's tough skin would stop most, her regeneration would handle the rest. It was a dance, with laughter and snarls. A festivity of casual violence, a test to see which Goblin would land a significant blow.

A Doggirl broke through the frothing crowd, bleeding, holding a sword, screaming, lunging and charging at the Orc.

She never made it.

One Goblin pounced on her. The smaller green-skin maiden drew out a knife and sank it into the Doggirl's thigh. The canine fought back, but not before the knife found purchase in her throat. It was with screams of victory and rage that the Goblin pushed her advantage.

Eva's eyes widened as she caught the shift. A change that was almost imperceptible at first, but quickly became obvious. The Goblin was growing, gaining a full meter of height within a matter of seconds. The knife was thrown away as massive fists rose into the air and fell upon the Doggirl with crushing strength. Muscle grew where there had once been sinew, and with every blow, the Goblin came a step closer into finishing her shift into an Orc.

With a deafening scream, the maiden proclaimed to the world the end of her ascension into the peak of her genus.

The first Orc was upon her right away, meaty fists crushing nose and cracking the jaw. The new Orc jumped to her feet, eyes wild in a battle-rage, features putting themselves back in place even as both maidens lunged at each other with bloodied fists. As this occurred, the Goblins broke away, looking for new fights to take part in, each of them seeking an opportunity to gain strength.

Eva ignored the tingling in the back of her head, the soft whisper of violence, the alluring draw the blood presented.

A part of her wanted to fight.

Instead, she ran. The shadows gave her a way to move while avoiding the violence. But more and more, the ferocity of the battle had been spreading.

“COVER THE LEFT FLANK!”

It was a command that came with the strict severity of order, spoken with a voice that carried a light eastern accent. It presented a point of sanity in the sea of brutality. Eva's eyes locked on the light of the torches that surrounded two maidens. Monica and Dia. Both turned away from Eva, both focused on the bloodied thing Monica held and gently placed on the ground. The healer's body radiated with the green light of her power.

Eva stepped forward, almost going into the light.

She caught sight of what the bloodied thing was.

Rick.

She froze in the darkness. Her breath caught in her throat, chest tightened like under a vice.

There was so much blood on him. The scent it left in its wake made Eva's mouth water, her lips becoming dry. The Fledgling looked down to her hands. Black nails too sharp to be human. Claws. She could still find specks of dried blood on her skin. She could feel her fangs against her tongue. The injury on her shoulder no longer hurt. One look confirmed it was gone. An injury that should've crippled her for days without the help of a healer...

The shadows all around her, blackness that should've blinded her was clear as day.

She... she was...

Something shifted next to her. "Sister." A soft voice spoke. "Sister!" It insisted, drawing her attention to a Fledgling, the maiden hidden under a hood, dressed in black.

"Who...?"

"The Lady has ordered retreat." The maiden reached out, offering a hand. "All of us must go to the Lady, and prepare for the true battle. These beasts must be dealt with. The violence must end."

Eva processed the words, but they could not find purchase within her. "I..."

The hand hung in the air, offering salvation. "I know it is new, to be free of the bond." The pale interloper spoke softly. She'd seen Eva's naked throat and assumed the bond had broken. "We cannot linger. There is much to be done, and we are not safe."

Except the bond had not broken. Against everything Eva had known, the bond was still there, firmly in place. And in the absence of certainty, it presented a goal for Eva to take. The facts were undeniable: Rick lived, and thus the bond lived. Whatever slim chance of survival the human had, they would be dashed away if the Vampire succeeded. The thought of Rick's demise was gut wrenching.

Whatever redemption there was to be had for her actions, it would lie in protecting the human's life. Both parts of her agreed with this.

“Quickly!” the other Fledgling insisted.

There was a shift in the air. Something subtle, almost imperceptible. It made Eva's hairs stand on edge, goosebumps ran down her spine. It was hard to breathe. Icy fear clenched her heart, sweat ran down her back, heart hammering against her ribs.

It took half a second for her to hear the growl.

Death was looking upon them.

Two icy blue slitted pupils pinned her in place. White fangs gleamed in the darkness. Eva's lungs refused to inhale air lest the very sound bring about her immediate demise. Monica's figure loomed over them. The shadow of her frame brought no comfort. She couldn't hide from the cerulean hatred in the Sabertooth's gaze.

“RUN!”

The stranger had barely uttered the word. It had earned a flicker of attention from Monica. A split second of respite from the monster.

Claws covered in an obsidian void lashed out, and the hooded Fledgling slumped. No sound. No struggle. Dead.

Something bumped Eva's leg. She dared not look away from the cerulean hatred pinning her in place.

"You. Hurt. Rick."

Three words laced with murder.

Eva swallowed, somehow finding her voice. "Please, I..."

She saw the blow coming. She raised her arms to protect herself. Large white paws lashed out at her, the impact being far worse than the claws. Her body lurched, legs disconnected from the ground. The wooden walls of the hut might as well have been paper. She struggled to stand up, and the next blow came.

There was no time to think or run. Eva was a rag-doll caught in a flash-flood, smashing against every rock down the stream. Every attempt to stand would be met by an attack. The Fledgling would be slung across every obstacle her tormentor could find. Bones screamed, shattered, and would mend just in time for the next attack. Cuts would bore deep, then close.

It was with an Orc stepping in Monica's way that Eva found a window to plunge into the shadows in desperation, ignoring the scream behind her.

When she stepped out, pain exploded on her back. Cuts that were too shallow to cripple. Eva shrieked, stumbling, running blindly into the next attack that tore at her chest. The Fledgling could only cry out, falling to the ground and clenching in wait for the next blow.

None came.

Monica’s ghostly shadow loomed over her.

“Please.” Eva begged.

The maiden moved closer, not making a sound. The icy glare was not on the Fledgling, but on her wounds. She was waiting for her wounds to close.

“Please! I didn’t want to do it!” Tears ran down Eva's cheeks. “I-I didn’t want to hurt him!”

There was no answer, no words, only deathly silence in a sea of atrocity.

But something else caught Monica's attention. Something that tore her gaze away from Eva to look away. The sudden ease of tension gave Eva's lungs the space to inhale, and for her mind to reach out in confusion over the shift in her attacker's behaviour. Something else had caught her attention.

She was under no impression she was safe.

Monica let out an annoyed sound, a half-growl. The air shifted with the sound, a wave that washed over them both. It left the taste of iron and rust on Eva's lips. She could've recognized it anywhere. Blood-energy, thick and coiling. Her skin tingled with the power, her wounds closing faster. The energy was spreading in what could only be the effects of a massive ritual of some sort.

Her bond screamed in warning, desire greater than her own survival. “Rick’s in danger.”

Monica's eyes were on her once more.

Eva raised her hands in supplication. "The Vampire is doing something. Something big. It will hurt everyone."

There was a low growl. "Complicated?"

"I don't know." There was no room for falsehoods, trickery, or deception. "They're gathering their forces for a counter-attack. I... I might help."

She had to help.

Save Rick, redeem her mistake.

Whatever the cost.

The silence stretched. Monica's presence alone caused an eye in the storm of violence that had taken the tribe.

None dared come close.

"Eva run, Monica hunt. Slow hunt."

No threat, no fury, facts.

She grabbed Eva by the leg, slinging the shrieking maiden over her shoulder with an unbreakable grip. The Fledgling wasn't sure whether to feel fear or indignation as the tall Sabertooth broke out into a sprint. Her first attempt to break free got her a snarl. So she resigned herself, unsure, looking at the upside-down world and trying to make sense of what was going on. The brawls had stopped, and the green-skins were heading in the same direction they were. Whether because they were following Monica, or for some other reason, Eva wasn't sure.

Her mind turned to the pain on her chest. It was gone. The only evidence of her previous injury being her torn rags and the pink tender skin. The injury itself was gone, and she was hungry again. Not an all-consuming hunger, but a constant reminder that washed against her thoughts like waves against a pillar of sand.

Eva... wasn't human.

Weeks of trying not to think about it. Irrefutable from the start, but something she'd tried to shove away, put out of her mind, ignore it.

But there was no more room for her to escape. There were no more corners for her to hide in. She could not pretend it wasn't the case any longer. Even the most gifted of humans wouldn't be able to survive half of what she had.

She wasn’t human.

There wasn't much room in her to consider all the ramifications of what that meant. The shackles of the bond pulled her thoughts into a singular direction. They gave her the strength to pull out of the despair. She was bonded to Rick, and he was in peril. Eva found amusement in that thought.

Evans Bavtha would've scoffed at the thought of risking life and limb for such a person. A man devoid of poise, sophistication, or academic knowledge that made a lick of sense. A man who frequented the company of dangerous maidens others would've run away from. Truly, fate was a strange thing. Eva let out a croak of a laugh.

Had she described her thoughts to any of her former colleagues, they would have told her the same thing: that this was the bond protecting itself. Rick's death would mean the destruction of the bond, and with it, the threat of the ever-present feral curse. That this was normal. That maidens were slaves to their instincts, powerful and beautiful and meant to only ever have their full minds when following a human. Now she was on the other side, the instincts within her no different from a human’s need to breathe or eat.

There was no more time to self-reflect on the trappings of her biology. The world spun as Monica tossed her aside. Eva shrieked and curled into a ball, rolling against the dirt as she kicked and shifted to get back to her feet. They'd reached the edge of madness. It was a battle. All around them, maidens were fighting. The air reeked of elemental energy.

Eva did the only thing that made sense. She ran.

The shadows gave her the breathing room to get to safety.

As far as she could see, the tribe was fighting the Fledglings. It was a gruesome sight, neither side willing to back down and each just as eager to rip the other apart. The Orcs made up the bulk of the tribe's forces. They fought with heavy weapons and crushing blows. On the opposite side of the equation were the Fledglings, using piercing weapons and darkness. There were no lines separating either side, a mass brawl where bodies rushed into the fray.

But as Eva found distance, climbing to a tree away from the battle that gave her a vantage point, she saw the sense to the madness. Both the blood-suckers and the green-skins had an order in the madness. Those that fell would be pulled away, to be given a chance for their physiologies to regenerate the damage before they jumped right back into the fray.

There were several exceptions to this rhythm. The first was the Ghoul. Zagan's blackened skin glowed with blood, her claws tore through the thick Orc flesh like butter. On her own, she could fend off four others where two Fledglings would be needed to just stop an Orc. And every handful of seconds, the Ghoul would pool her power and… nothing.

That was when Eva spotted the one maiden controlling the battlefield. The Succubus flew overhead, her powers lashing out in strobing purple light. The aberrant energy she wielded lashed at the maidens below, disrupting the Ghoul's attempts to cast spells. And whenever Zagan was too occupied in the brawl, Kiara would shift her focus to the Fledglings, particularly those that gathered in attempts to create some minor ritual.

Her power kept the blood-suckers under a constant pressure, denying them the more powerful blood-energy abilities that made the breed fearsome opponents.

But even with the Orcs outnumbering them, it was the Orcs that were being pushed back. Their regeneration could not keep up with that of the Fledglings. The Hobgoblin's fires burned and drew lines the darkness could not cross, yet the Fledglings would emerge from amongst the Orcs, sowing chaos and attacking from unexpected angles before running away.

Monica joining the battle changed things.

Eva could feel it, the way the shadows had become dangerous. Fledglings using them to escape or go in would emerge dead. And when the blood-suckers returned to more ordinary forms of combat, Monica struck at their numbers from the rear. The feline was like a scythe through wheat.

It was a massacre until Zagan leapt in to stop her. She attacked with claws coated in blood-energy. But within seconds it became clear that the Ghoul was strong, but not strong enough to do more than buy time. Her attacks found no purchase, while Monica pressured her to dodge or use her own body in sacrifice to protect her life. Because Monica fought to kill.

Eva almost ran to stop the Sabertooth.

Rick had been marked! If Zagan died, then-. Eva stopped when she saw Kiara swoop down to get in Monica's way. She screamed at the Sabertooth, and the white-haired feline swatted her away. But by the time she'd made it through, Zagan had regained her arm and the fight was on.

The rate of regeneration wasn't just incredible, but impossible.

Eva knew this, Ghouls had one of the most powerful abilities to heal all injuries so long as they had flesh available to consume. But regaining an arm in the span of seconds broke the basic principles of energy interactions with flesh. There was just no way for a Ghoul to have enough power on her own to pull off this feat!

She tore her eyes away from the fight between the three monsters.

The pattern became obvious now that she could see it. The Fledglings were also healing back up too quickly. Their forces might have been lesser, but they could get back up much faster. The air reeked of blood-energy. And in it, Eva realized this was what was bolstering the night-dweller’s powers.

Monica, Kiara, and Zagan continued in a locked three-way battle. The Ghoul could use none of her more powerful abilities because Kiara would negate them. But Monica could not score a definite blow because of the Succubus getting in the way. All around them, the Orcs and Fledglings had quickly learnt to steer clear, lest they get caught up and become collateral damage.

Eva grimaced. Monica had lost sight of the threat, focused too much on what was immediately in front of her. The real danger was the source of the mass ritual that empowered the blood-suckers. With this thought, her course of action became clear. The Fledgling jumped into the shadows and made her way around the battlefield.

With Kiara focused on stopping Monica from killing Zagan, the Fledglings had quickly split into two major groups of abled fighters. Those in the front-line would keep the fight as it had been, attacking with near reckless abandon. Those slightly in the back would hobble into clumps of four or five and cast spells. The shadows twisted, taking life and lashing out at the Orcs, restricting their movements and leaving them open to being swarmed by the blood-suckers.

Only the Hobgoblins' fire could push back the dark tide, and they were becoming the primary target for the Fledgling attacks.

Eva hurried. This was not a fight the tribe could win without the Vampire being removed from the equation. There was no other creature that could sustain such a powerful ritual. Thoughts of how to stop the mass-spell ran through Eva's head with almost reassuring sureness. Spells and energy formulas. Those were her friends.

Eva found the ageless maiden. She was away from the chaos of battle, far enough that the Fledgling needed to strain to hear the ongoing fight.

It was a ritual circle like none she'd ever seen. At least twenty meters across, the red glow of its power made the air feel like gruel against Eva's skin. It was to this very location where the blood was being drawn, joining in the pulsating lines of power and strengthening its power with the energy robbed from the living. The piece was segmented into parts, and though to Eva's keen eyes the runes were strangers, she could easily see which parts were targeting the Fledglings.

And she also noted there were other parts that were guzzling energy, not saturated enough to have an effect. Not yet, at least. She shuddered at the thought of what this creation might unleash once fully charged.

A lone figure stood at the center of the labyrinthine layout of glowing patterns.

Lady Aimes's dress had a large hole ripped above her stomach, yet her skin was without blemish. It was the only sign the Vampire had been in a fight recently. But Eva's gaze travelled to the maiden's wrists. Chains of ruby blood connected the maiden to the ritual circle, reaching into her forearms and sinking into her flesh through open wounds. The Vampire was using her own blood to control the power.

Though Eva stood in awe of the ageless maiden, something else caught her attention.

A scent in the air, something that tickled the back of her throat and made her mouth water.

“You join us, then. A wise choice.”

The voice startled Eva. The Vampire had spotted her.

“You carry my sister’s blood within you. A destiny most great.” The Lady spoke with authority, lips parted into a knowing smile.

There was a casualness to her tone, a calmness. Like there wasn’t a bloody battle within running distance, as if the howls of pain and death were nothing worth paying attention to. As far as the Vampire was concerned, she was in no real danger. Her success was all but guaranteed. Seeing the ritual, and how it had yet to unleash its full potential, Eva was sure of it, too.

"Come closer, niece. Let me have a better look at you." It wasn't a suggestion. It was obvious the Vampire did not see her as a threat.

Eva did as told, approaching the glowing ritual tentatively, the scent of something sweet trying to distract her, but the fear of what this ageless blood-sucker might do keeping her in check.

With one glance, Lady Aimes scoffed. "Be dressed. You are a beast of burden no more. You’ve freed yourself of the shackles of the bond.”

At the proclamation, Eva’s hand touched her throat, finding it without a collar. Had it been torn off when she was being attacked by Monica? A shadow coalesced near the circle's edge, a Fledgling stepping out and offering a black robe.

“Worry not. You will have a mortal to bond to once this fight is over." The Vampire mistook the meaning of the gesture. "There are many things you will need to learn. How to fight among them. Today’s display was... weak.”

But Eva was still bonded, even without the enchanted collar. There was a dying man, and she had a mission. That thought gave her focus. "The Sabertooth..." she whispered while donning the robes.

“So long as Zagan lives, the brute will be brought low. The Succubus will see to that." The Vampire laughed. "Her toy is marked, and as long as he remains alive, that whore will be mine to control.” Fury flashed in those ruby eyes. “And punish."

There was venom in her voice. Eva shuddered, not wanting to imagine the plans Lady Aimes had in store for the Succubus. She pushed her attention at the circle instead, stepping closer. The maiden tried to decipher the patterns. She might not know the exact purpose of each piece, but there was an art to these things. You just had to look for the ebb and flow of energy.

"It is beautiful." It would've taken her days, if not weeks, to create something of equivalent complexity. Had this Vampire applied it from memory or was it made on the spot? Eva could do nothing but begrudgingly acknowledge the genius of its application. The thought of having to destroy it was almost saddening.

“A keen eye. Were you studied in the mystic arts?”

“In enchanting.” Eva swallowed, answering the question without a second thought. Her fingers caressed her throat. That scent... it was coming from the ritual, from Lady Aimes.

“Get her a collar.”

Just like that, Eva stared down at the worn leather of the enchanted collar. The same enchantment that would bolster the stability of a bond so that it could avoid erosion from the feral curse. The same bond she now had without the need of the enchantment. Her fingers traced lovingly against the smooth underside, eyes tracing over the ghost-silk wires that ran through from one end to the other. The Fledgling recognized the model, an older variant. The production stamp was hidden under the latch, marking it as being at least ten years of age.

She frowned, her mind whirling as an idea formed.

A very dangerous idea.

She breathed in, calming her nerves, feeling the scent wash through her, invigorating. "I wish to help... even if I cannot fight." Eva blinked in surprise when she realized there was more truth to her words than she'd intended.

"There is no need, niece." The Vampire replied. "As I said, you carry my sister's blood. I have no reason to put you at risk."

"At least... allow me to collect collars from the dead?" Eva proposed, hesitating. "I think I can prove what I know. The fight with Rick was, I mean, that human... I..."

Lady Aimes paused. "We will need them for our plans." She turned away, focusing on the ritual underneath her. The approval and dismissal being implied. Something had shifted in the battle, something that had drawn the Vampire's attention.

Eva did her best to commit as much of the ritual’s design to memory as possible, and made a quick estimation. She needed at least twelve collars.

It took her a moment to pry her eyes away from the beautiful bloody runes, another to move away from the scent. Every step leading her closer to the battlefield pushed her focus to her target. Another of the Fledglings followed her closely, either intending to oversee her, or to protect her. Whatever the case, Eva didn't have the room to pay her any attention.

She found several Fledglings moving away from the fight, dragging corpses to the base of the hill and making deep incisions on the bodies. The blood would flow out and up to the Vampire's ritual, staining the soil a rich crimson. The maidens were operating with martial efficiency, clearly trained at this task.

The fight itself was moving further and further away. The blood-suckers were pushing their advantage. There were several points where the lines were being held, one of which where Monica and the Ghoul were still tearing each other apart, another where the gigantic Orc kept bulling through her opponents.

But it was a losing battle.

Eva rushed to the corpses. Her hands were shaking as she unlatched the collars, ignoring the gazes of the other Fledglings. Or the way the one hovering over her closely watched her every move. She also ignored the bodies, of how many of the Orcs had died as if to savage beasts.

She got her hands on fourteen, to be sure, and rushed her way back up the hill. There was a spring in her step as she got closer to that alluring scent from earlier. A growing heat within her that came entwined with the growing sense of purpose.

“Lady Aimes!” She called out, reaching the edge of the ritual. “There’s a way to empower your design."

Before anyone else could stop her, Eva knelt down and placed the first collar face-down, connecting the line that drew the perimeter and one of the inner branches. There was a split second of panic in the eyes of the Vampire as the glow intensified. Eva herself felt a moment of confusion as she felt herself growing hot from being this close to the blood...

...she almost wanted to taste it. The moment passed, the ritual's glow diminished, returning to normal. Eva shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts.

“You used the conductive properties of the collar to reduce some of the spillage.” The Vampire's words came with an edge of pride, and it brought a flutter within Eva's chest. “You are familiar with the materials of an enchanted collar?”

"Yes!" she happily answered, stepping closer to the ageless, beautiful maiden.

Eva was inside the threshold of the ritual. Alarms rung in the back of her head even as she felt her face flush at the pleasant feeling coursing through her. It reminded her of the things the Succubus had done to her, and of... someone else. Someone important? It was hard to think.

The air was thick with blood-energy, coursing through with densities that would've been lethal to a human.

"There are several other points of spillage." Eva walked through the ritual, basking in the feeling of proximity to the Lady. Her plan had been to help with the spillage, and something else. There was room to improve the ritual, to make it more powerful.

Maybe if she impressed the Lady, she'd get to taste whatever made that delicious scent.

“Another point of spillage is here. The energy could be redirected into this section.” She placed the collar, and the surrounding air vibrated against her skin, eliciting a deepening blush. Where had she felt this before? “Though I am not familiar with what it does.”

Lady Aimes smiled a dazzling smile, her face the prettiest thing Eva had ever seen. “These are secrets only those in the Red Ring can know.” There was a glint in her eye, looking at Eva more carefully. “I think I can see why my sister gave you the gift.”

Gift? Eva hesitated, frowning. Her... form was a gift? No, that wasn't right. But the feelings currently coursing through her body certainly felt like it. If she could live feeling like this forever, then maybe... "I would never forget what she did." Whoever 'she' was, it didn't matter as much as the pride of her work being acknowledged.

She put down the third collar.

The energy swelled harder this time, but also flickered back to normal faster. Eva was careful not to step on the blood. The skill to dance within a drawn ritual was something she’d learnt long ago. Doing so in a charged spell would expose her to energies that would likely tear her apart.

Then came the fourth to sixth. The ritual vibrated with far more power it had, using the energy drawn from outside far more efficiently. As she worked her way to the seventh, every move under the careful attention of the Vampire, Eva realized the ideas she'd thought of had something else about them that didn't seem quite right.

“Tell me, what were you?” The question came smoothly.

"I was a human." Eva spoke quickly, trying to make sense of her thoughts, of the plan. What sense was there in adding...

"I meant your profession."

"I designed enchantments, improved on..." The Fledgling stopped as she dropped the ninth collar where she'd originally intended, but trying to figure out where the tenth should go. The design she'd thought of definitely didn't work.

"This is a looping battery formation. Very good."

Eva shuddered, inhaling sharply as her whole body flushed with pleasure. Realization dawned as where she'd felt this before, at the hands of the Succubus, Kiara, the inflaming touch and...

"Where did you learn this?"

"Looping energy sustenance is a core piece of the collar's construction." Eva answered thoughtlessly. Should she follow the original plan? No? She hesitated, then stepped towards the gate point of the ritual, one of the core nexus locations that would connect the battery to... to the Lady?

Eva's head was full of soft clouds and creamy delight, thinking was becoming a hassle. Why was this wrong? What did the Succubus have to do with any of this?

"What was your name, Fledgling?"

"It's Eva."

"And who do you serve?"

"Rick."

What?

RICK!?

She shook her head. "No, that's not right, I was..." Clarity dawned on her like a waking dream. Something was messing with her senses, her mind. Training followed the sense of danger. She focused inwards, into a singular point of clarity and certainty, she needed to grasp something to hold firm and guide her thoughts.

But with so much of her body vibrating with this exciting energy, she-

The bond.

"Your blood." She spoke, covering her mouth. "It's..."

"A precious gift." The Lady smiled, amused. "You will grow to love it, as all Fledglings do."

It was in her hand that Eva found something else, a different scent, a familiar scent. She recognized the smell of Rick's blood and the bond latched onto it, giving her the room she needed to focus. Her eyes travelled through the ritual. She'd nearly ruined her own plan. There weren't enough collars to finish the job!

Panic followed, panic at the knowledge the Fledglings were winning, that they would win. That Rick would die. That thought alone empowered her bond, pushed her to action. Before she could take another step, pain exploded from her feet, her legs pinned in place. The maiden held back the scream, turning to look downwards at her legs. The blood from the ritual had thrust out to lance through her flesh, as if it were alive and protecting itself from her plans.

“I asked you a question, and would rather you answer clearly now.” Lady Aimes spoke slowly, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “What was your name as a human, niece?”

Eva’s gaze flickered at the part of the ritual she went to, then at the Vampire, and down at her own skewered legs, at the parts of the spell from where the blood originated. The bond screamed at her to act. There was no room for anything else. If there were not enough collars to bridge the proper spots, then she would need to use something else.

“Evans Bavtha.”

The Vampire’s eyes widened in realization.

Eva focused on the runes.

She was a maiden.

Maidens will save their human, at any cost.

Forcing herself to fall, she put her hand on the line at the nearest nexus point.

“NO!”

Too late, the power sought the path of least resistance, and that was Eva.

Searing pain burned through her. She was holding up a sun, keeping it from collapsing, keeping it for long enough to fulfill her purpose as a maiden. The ritual flared out with red light, a beacon that reached up into the sky and pierced the night. The Vampire’s veins lit up with the same power, and outside, the Fledglings shrieked as their own bodies became paralyzed under the effects of healing that had gone overboard. Within seconds, some of them bloating like a waterskin that was being forced to take in more water than it could hold.

The very healing that was killing the others was keeping Eva alive, if barely.

More of the blood reached out to skewer her body, but it didn't register with her. She could only marvel at the beauty of the ritual’s destruction. A battery formation that shifted the errant energy flow and used that very energy to reverse it. The Vampire tried to fight it, buying time for her own survival, but only making it worse.

The very power she spent attempting to protect herself fed into the cycle, empowering its destructive force all the more.

Eva had only read of a ritual collapsing in books. She had never seen it in person. It was too dangerous for humans to observe without so many layers of protection they’d be blind to the nuances of the event. Of how the very light stuttered, caught in the molasses of hyper-dense elemental energy.

It created an illusion of time slowing to a stand-still. A beautiful silent glass bubble that pressed against their bodies from every direction. It signalled that the amassed power was reaching criticality. Anyone caught within the immediate blast would have the blood energy tear them from the inside out.

A fitting end.

Something broke the illusion of stillness. A hand covered in purple energy, grasping her wrist and yanking her out of the ritual with impossible force.

“I can’t let you die.”

The Succubus glared. Eva tried to complain, to say something, but her throat had been pierced. She could barely breathe. She could only stare at the ritual, and the seething glare of the Vampire.

The ageless maiden vanished a moment after.

And with her disappearance, the glow became blinding light.

The Succubus teleported away with Eva in tow.

Not far enough, not fast enough.

The explosion washed over them in a wave of pain.

The last thought through Eva’s mind was of how warm Kiara’s embrace felt.