Rebirth

[Vylrath]

“Does your telepathy still work?” He questioned her, suddenly brimming with an electric arrogance.

“Invite our guest in…if he tries to attack, he’ll be dealing with us.” He watched her equip the pathetic skinning knife. "Do you expect to gut him and feed me his heart?"

Leaning against the temple doorway, he glared into the gut of the wood- it was there, that this thing was resting and waiting. If they were going to have a battle, he might as well have a battle where it was in favor to them.

He could use the Temple to feel out the things weakness and then jump on the opportunity. Isabella didn’t quit understand the uniqueness of the Temple, but she would learn soon. All of his actions had a reasoning behind it, even if it didn’t make a damn bit of sense at the time.

The sky seemed to react to their thoughts- it churned with a compromising outcome. The land seemed to react as well, everything was quiet and serene. It was as if Isabella’s war God was finally challenging them to a real finale.

“Well?” He looked at her, his voice demanding a quick answer or action.

[Jen]

Isabella's beautiful face screwed itself into a frown as she glanced at Vylrath's patronizing face. Of course she could use her telepathy, what did he take her for? Isabella tossed her knife lazily up in the air and caught it by the blade, then with a lightening fast flick of her wrist she planted the thing between Vylrath's feet.

"Speak to me again like that and I'll gut you and force feed you your own heart." Isabella spoke in a mild whisper, her voice didn't carry and for all the world it might look as if she had simply dropped her knife between the young man's feet.

Bella took a solid stance, as if she were bracing herself, and then she let her telepathy fly. Unfortunately she wasn't in control of the power and once it was let loose it took her breath away. If anyone were in tune with anything the pair were doing they would feel the incredible rush of power unleashed. Isabella, not usually one to be fearful, sucked in a ragged gasp and the burst of telepathy was infused with a very odd sensation. Fear. Of course Isabella wasn't actually scared at all, but if the thing that Vylrath was so worried over was a predator -- perhaps it would just coax the creature out. A lovely supple woman, alone with a young man that hardly looked capable of weilding a sword, and scared witless.

Isabella got the power under control and pulled back. She staggered a moment and dropped to one knee. It wasn't a horrible drain on her store of power but it was the craziest sensation to unleash. She spent a moment there, on her knees, trying to gather her thoughts and her wits. Her hair covered her face, anyone looking at her would not be able to see her expression as a smile spread across her lips. The exhiliration of that power was almost as fun as hunting.

[Angelos]

Angelos listened to the two's breif conversation, then cocked his head to the side as the younger male headed inside. There's only one reason that the female would stay out. She's stronger. She has to be he thought to himself. So, they want to play the ol' bait and tackle. We can do this. He started to laugh a bit to himself but was almost knocked out of the tree by the sudden rush in his head. His right hand shot to his temple and rubbed. Yep, she's a tough one.

Once the wave passed, he took the opening, probing into her mind and allowing his voice to ring out like a choir in a cathedral. So you have some power afterall, I see, he let a small laugh ring into her head, the seductiveness of his voice flowing like a river, What's wrong, is your little friend too shy to say hello?

To be safe, he decided to move out of his current spot, just in case she was able to pinpoint his position while he spoke. That's the only downside to true telepathy. It's like lighting a torch in the middle of a field in the dead of night. You're almost always going to be spotted. So movement was key here. He launched himself out of the tree in a blinding blur of orange/brown leather and white hair, shooting directly over the female's head.

As the world slowed around him, he looked down and saw Vylrath in the doorway. They're not too stupid, afterall. He laughed again to himself as he landed on a tree opposite of where he was. Only now did he realize that it in fact was not nighttime, but midday as streaks of sunshine ripped through small openings in the trees. The sun hit his armor on his left arm and a slight hissing could be heard. Not painful, but enough to give his position from the sound.

"Damn," he whispered, and moved again, another blur and he was above the trail leading to the temple. Keeping to the shadows, he looked down, now dead in front of Isabella, high above her, he probes into her mind again, making sure the boy can hear him as well. What are you doing in my forest?

[Vylrath]

He felt like he was trapped in a bird cage. If they went out into something unknown, they could both lose their lives. He knew that she hadn’t picked up a sword since he had left her. Cringing at the blade meeting between his feet, he picked it up idly and let it balance between fingers.

The voice spoke to him, but he couldn’t answer back with a greeting. This irritated him immensely, since he didn’t want to depend on Isabella. He felt as though his only use was to siphon these new abilities. Taking the knife, he tucked it into a lose piece of fabric inside of his coat.

“Take care of our visitor.” He called the man a “visitor,” even though they were trespassing on his grounds.” It seems you’ve made a connection with him.” Vylrath said quietly, almost at peace with her being in control. “I’m going to go check on Caela and the kids.”

His thoughts danced wildly in his head like a fire storm. He remembered the voice speaking to him and the constant imagery that had been his last dream the night before. He stopped in front of Caela’s doorway and looked at her calm face.

“Caela, I need to speak with you.” His eyes turned toward the children. “Alone…they’ll be fine if they stay in the temple.” He stood by her, trying to gain the strength for his next plan.

[Jen]

There was the scent of loamy earth as Isabella's eyes watered. The world came back into focus at precisely the right time. There was a hiss and the smell of decaying earth was tainted by the rich tang of leather -- burnt leather to be exact. Isabella frowned and lifted her head, unintentionally looking at the intruder without actually seeing him. She didn't turn her head toward the sound and smell, gods but she had been taught not to be baited as a Battleguard, but she tilted her head ever so slightly as if to hear.

Vylrath's voice shattered her concentration and she glanced over her shoulder briefly to give a nod. Sure, whatever, she had larger animals to tend to. Still crouched, Isabella let her telepathy loose again -- only this time it was far more guided and in check. She was fast to learn new tricks, especially if they could save her life. All alone outside with one knee buried in the soft earth, crushing the delicate stalks of a forest fern, Isabella focused harder -- putting more of her power into the telepathy.

We are traveling. We mean you no harm.

It was a simple enough answer to the seductive voice in her head. It probed, as if it would find anything within her guarded skull. The power roiling inside her body was intense and the creature might find that seductive in its own right. In reality, Isabella wasn't sure when they were going to move out of the forest. All she knew was that they needed to stay somewhere safe and hidden from any eye that might recognize them. This...thing posed a threat to their safety.

Show yourself. It might feel like a little prick as Isabella's power expanded ever outward in search of the creature that was, as yet, quite elusive. If the power touched him he would know that she was learning, that she wouldn't be able to pick him up if he moved about like a lusty rabbit. Her powers were untried, but quickly adapting to the situation -- the creature had no need to know that she hadn't used them before.

Isabella stood slowly and walked forward, her power searching and finding small vacant creatures -- but not the prize. Not the one that could speak to her. Bella stopped as she stepped in a pool of warm sunshine. It felt like days since she'd been truely warm, even by the fire in the temple. Taking a moment, but not letting her guard down, Isabella tilted her head back and let her face soak in the sunlight. Even a vampire might find the simple gesture very taunting. Isabella had a long slender neck and her skin sparkled with the softest shade of blue imaginable. She looked as fine as porcelain and just as fragile. Bella raised her arms and ran her fingers through her hair, searching -- ever searching for her quarry.

There was nothing alive, or dead for that matter, quite like Isabella in this world. She never ventured far from the Temple -- always just inside its protective barrier. She was a tempting little morsel though.

-----------------

"Father, what is it?" Caela glanced up at Vylrath. He seemed to be sweating bullets and a look of dread was hardly masked on his face. Caela set Sebilla next to her brother. "Watch your sister. Protect her."

Trydian nodded and wrapped his arms around his sister as Caela got to her feet and followed her father to the next room. Caela was a seductress and thus, with her demonic heritage, was quite easily a succubus. Her red hair was held back with a piece of white ribbon and she smiled at her father as she looked to him, her lavender dress swishing about her slender legs. She had grown into quite a woman since the birth of her twins.

"What can I help you with Father?"

For a half demon Caela was heartbreakingly innocent.

[Angelos]

Angelos grins at her blatant challenge. This could be fun, he thinks to himself. The armor on his back shifts and twists a bit, tightening around his torso, then his arms, growing a bit from a skin-tight leather, to more of a metal plate. This continues down his body and even his boots seem to change, though still white, they have a gleam to them. No more hiding, but protection might be necessary here.

A push from the trees and the armor clanks a bit, but as the sound begins, he's already on the ground, directly in front of Isabella. His eyes glance towards her neck for a brief second, then he locks his pearly eyes onto hers. A slight sneer forms in his lips, they part, and porcelain teeth show through, sharpened and elongated eye-teeth show off his vampire heritage.

"Little girl," he begins, not referring to her size, and most definitely not her age, for he knows nothing of the latter, but a taunting insult to get the ball rolling, "who are you, and why are you in my forest? These are my resting grounds, and you are trespassing."

The fact that he has no visible weapon other than his teeth makes him a bit less menacing, but he is not going for intimidating. His voice is smooth, deep and seductive and almost emits its own harmonies, like there is more than one person speaking. The harmony is so faint, mortal ears can not hear it, but it serves its purpose.

The immortal's mind wanders as he speaks, keeping track of the other male and the children inside. He will not be caught off guard here, not now. Not this close to returning home. So, to be safe, he lets his power show, lets her feel it, as he lifts the shroud, not too much to give the most away, but to give a hint that he is not one to be trifled with. As his power flows, the dark, Ronin-Warrior like base armor shifts again, ever so slightly, almost venting the power from his pores, flowing from him like an invisible lead blanket, weighing down those that are sensitive to it. The demon's face stays as it was before, a slight sneer, yet stone cold and blank, devoid of any other emotion.

[Vylrath]

The guilt rose in him, but it quickly fell into his true intentions. Vylrath would never let anything happen to his family, but the fever that had left him, quickly came back ten-fold. He ushered her out of the room, the children watching him wide-eyed. They knew that he was not seeking Caela out of praternal instinct- he wanted something more of her.

Remembering the night before, he searched for the small, yet doable knife. It’s blade was already caked with animal blood. She wouldn’t see a glimpse of it, unless he dangled it in front of her face. He kept his arm at his waste, his fingers securing the blade.

Grabbing her by her right arm, he twisted it behind her back so that she was immobile. He was stronger than her and he knew it. She would most likely feel the new power brewing, molding itself to him and Isabella.

“You have to be strong for your Mother. We need you to be strong.” said Vylrath. In his madness, he remembered the sensual relationship they had once shared. He wanted to free her, but his new self wanted to keep her.

He pulled her into a dark room, where the light only shone from the doorway. He quickly shut the door, the heavy stone locking them in tight- it looked like it could have been built for a holding cell.

“Do not scream. I will feel your mind if you try to call out for your mother!" He didn't truly have telepathy, but he knew it was easy to stir fear in her. "She is busy trying to distract whatever is out there. If we are lucky, this thing, this…person will leave us alone! If not, my plan will work out for the better…”

He pushed her against the southern wall. He could feel her body react, the tension captivating him. Taking the blade, he slit his arm once more. He slid the blade slowly against the already healed scar. He knew that the blood would flow quicker. Blood would smear against her body, but this time with a purpose. It encased her, making her look nightmarish.

Vylrath cut her arm, almost in the same identical place as his own. If she struggled, she risked losing a limb. He whispered to her, coaxing her to believe his lies. “You are doing this for the family. Do you want your mother to die again? I need this from you…” He looked into her pained eyes, trying to drown his reflection in them. They would never look at him the same again- they would become as cold and icy as her mothers.

When they’re blood mixed, she would be cursed. He held her lower jaw down, parting her lips enough for her to drink the blood from his arm. Letting her swallow, he removed himself from her and watched his wound heal itself again. It no longer created a weakness, but a desire to spread what was plaguing him. He wondered if he had satisfied the voice that had haunted him last night.

She would feel the change, but not as a vampire felt their turning. It would be filled with wonder, fear, acceptance to her new being. Her children might not recognize her, or they might fear her entirely. If he had to outcast the three of them, he would do that.

He pocketed the bloodied knife that now looked fueled with their blood. The blade itself would become his own personal sacrificial instrument. Isabella would most definitely know that something had happened to Caela, but she wouldn’t learn how, unless he shared the knowledge with her.

"You will love what you are about to become. You will no longer hold the taint in your blood, but something even greater, more pure!" He watched her, listening for sounds of stress outside. She needed time to adjust. He couldn't let her transformation be interrupted. If he needed to, he would fight.

Taking out the blade, he admired the change it had made. The blade was no longer fragile looking, but sleek and rigid. The hilt appeared to be materialized against an unknown element. Its slender surface made his palm feel right at home with the blade. He gripped it tight, his green eyes watching the door wildly.

[Jen]

A slow but steady smirk found its way to Isabella's lips as she let her head drop enough to look into the creature's eyes. A vampire. A fleeting image of their predator would be sent to Vylrath even if he couldn't reply back. A laugh trickled from her lips as she crossed her arms across her belly, tilting her head ever so slightly to reveal the precious beat of her pulse thrumming steadily in her neck. This creature may not know what she was or even why she was here, but to play with the ancient being! Now that was entertaining.

"I am Isabella Rivenfelde, once Queen of this land. I am reborn again and do not trespass on what was once mine." Her eyes were a vivid shade of turquoise and she smiled a coy little smile. Gods, but she was flirting with him as only a woman with nothing to lose might do. She was safe behind the boundary of the Temple. They were all safe from this creature of the night.

"What are you doing out in the light? Surely you would not think to touch me with all of this sunshine filtering through the trees." Another smile and then she winked. Isabella was good bait and though she was not the founder of their power she was incredibly powerful. This woman had power in her, a strength that the younger man Vylrath did not have. Indeed she had very little inhibition as it came to life and death -- but then she had ruled in positions that commanded life and death when she was Queen and Battleguard.

It was only then that she felt pure unadulterated fear. It didn't come from her, it obviously didn't come from the lovely vampire, and for the briefest, most startling moments, Isabella couldn't feel Caela. The babies were crying -- she could hear them now. Isabella's eyes flew to the Vampire. He might know that she desired nothing more than to rush to the children and find her daughter -- but she held her ground. She was not going to let another layer of fear envelop her family.

Her heart was beating quickly as the wails of the children sounded louder. Bella tensed as she heard their whimpers break through the wall.

They were standing in the open doorway.

With a savage curse Isabella broke away from the Vampire, showing him her back as she rushed to the doorway and snatched up the children. Bella turned to look at the Vampire, never once letting him out of her telepathic sight. She had her power focused on him and she wasn't going to let him sneak up on her. However, she was achingly aware that one of the children in her arms was human. A soft and sweet whimper escaped the child's lips as she rested her plump creamy tan cheek against her grandmother's chest.

Sebilla.

------------------------------------

The pain was incredible. Caela's arm was twisted behind her back as Vylrath shoved her into a dark room, darker than a moonless night. A whimper escaped the young woman as she flew against the wall Vylrath shoved her into. She crumpled briefly, aware of the savagery in her father's gaze. She was afraid and he would see that written all over her face.

When he cut himself she tried to run, she honestly tried to flee him -- but he grabbed her and twisted her back, forcing her body back to the floor. She was strong, demonically strong, but she couldn't resist him. He was infinitely stronger than her. His wicked knife didn't gleam, there was no light to make it shine, but she saw it. Even in shadows darker than night itself, she saw it.

There was an explosion of light behind her eyes as she realized that he had cut her too. He had flayed her arm open, cut open the important veins that poured blood. She felt weak, horribly weak, and the room spun wickedly as her blood poured, poured. As she wilted, she fell forward -- right into Vylrath's arm. His blood smeared against her face but it tasted sweet. She drank a little but against her will. It was sweet but she knew that wasn't natural -- nothing coming from a vein should taste sweet. It didn't sate any blood lust, it didn't fulfill her -- it just tasted like silky candy.

It was euphoric, the explosion of feeling in her, she continued falling and felt her face smack hard against the floor. Her whole body twitched and she was dimly aware of how much her father loved spilling her blood. This time it didn't hurt though and she was sure that she would have to be dying -- her father had finally killed her.

A sob escaped her throat as she lay there, thinking that she was dying, and she heard the wail of her children from somewhere near but infinitely far away.

[Angelos]

Angelos' eyes wavered as he felt a sudden shift of power from within the temple. He tried to extend his mental eye to investigate, but something about those walls kept him out. Interesting, he thought, they're more powerful than they let on. The lack of attention on Isabella was but a mere split second, and he forced a slight chuckle at her words.

"Queen, eh?" He looked around the woods and raised his arms to his side. "Queen to whom? These lands are uninhabited, and from what I can tell it's been a while since anyone has tried to use them for anything. It was empty when I got here, so therefore," and he returned his gaze to Isabella's, "It's mine!"

"And don't you worry about my power and the sunlight," He held out his right hand and the glove retracted from his fingertips, then his palms, apparently disappearing into the armor, bare skin now bathed in a stream of sunlight, "It doesn't effect me." With his palm to the ground, the sun covered his hand. There was a slight hissing sound, a tanning of the skin, then the sound faded. He held his hand there for a few more seconds, then the glove reappeared, tendril like, wrapping around the lip and flanges, then forming back into the white cloth that was there before.

There! He felt change happening in the temple. A transfer of power, he assumed, and felt the life force of one of the four inside fade. And then Isabella moved. He frowned for a second. An amateur move for someone who showed so much resolve. He almost felt insulted that she was brave enough to show her back to him. But there it was again, a growing power. What was it?

For the moment, he ignored the woman's movement and looked to his right hip. Once again, the armor shifted and re-formed, growing from his side, then elongating. The form of a katana, samurai hilt, and ivory sheathe slowly formed into reality, and he dropped his right hand to the blade, grasping the hilt firmly in his hand. It was an awkward draw position, but it would be effective enough with his speed if things got out of hand.

"It seems there are issues inside your little safe haven," he called after the woman. "I will not harm you... yet." He smirked and moved back to the tree line, leaning his left shoulder against the trunk of one of the heavier looking oaks. His hand still rested firmly on the sword. These people were more than they let on, and now that he allowed his senses to delve out even farther, he smelled only one human scent. The others were foreign to him... "What are you?" he whispered to himself...

[Vylrath]

Vuri…That was what he would call himself and anyone possessing his power- the name spoke to him through an unidentified voice. Anyone listening in on his thoughts, would catch the name, but most likely not understand its meaning in his speech.

He licked the flat side of the blade, tasting her sour blood. His eyes met his reflection. They were a startling green. He picked Caela up and let her rest against his weight. He moved with confidence. Her blood would be mixed with his, only hers would be mixed with the altar. He made sure to keep her close. He could feel her heart changing- the rhythm alone had sacrificed its connection with her.

He stood in the hallway, closest toward the door. He heard the cries of the children and felt Trydian tremble. He felt pleasure in his reaction and silent disgust in himself for finding amusement. “Isabella? Take care of your daughter. She is not well…” The transformation would have been complete. Her skin, hair, eyes would have dramatically change. All that was once known of her, would have gone away with her new form.

“She will need nourishment soon. I will give her my blood.” Knowing her reaction, he spoke abruptly. “It was what we needed. It will keep us bonded. If I could change the children…” He looked toward Trydian with a cutting gaze. The bastard child haunted him with every passing breath it took.
The knife had been hidden, safely tucked in cloth. If Isabella hadn’t seen the instrument, it was for the better.

“What did you find out about our visitor?” He asked her, as if nothing had changed in the slightest. His power was growing from sharing another bond- especially with kin. He felt no regret, or the fear that had severed his good judgment.

[Jen]

The vampire had retreated but Isabella was wary. Her attention only turned away from their visitor when Vylrath spoke from deeper within the temple. When Isabella saw what he held in his arms, Vylrath was the luckiest creature alive that she had the children in her arms. It was Trydian, however, that broke the stagnant silence.

"You are a bastard." The child looked at his father with the calmest of expressions though his mismatched eyes were no longer recognizable. He let a dark growl erupt from his tiny throat as he pointed at Vylrath with a tiny hand. "You will suffer for everything you have done to this family. You will lose everything." The cackle that emitted from the silver haired child was haunting and a warning. It spoke volumes of what Vylrath had spawned as a half demon. This child would have been so much more powerful than his father.

"If you touch Sebilla, I will kill you. It won't be immediately, it may not be for a hundred or more years, but I will kill you." Then Trydian was silent, his baleful glare riveted on his bastard father.

Isabella laughed and set the children down against the wall so that the vampire outside couldn't see them. The vampire would have heard every oath that the demon child had spoke, however, though Bella could care less what he heard.

"He is a Vampire and he is intent on us. We are trespassing on his lands and we inadvertantly woke him." Isabella looked at her daughter and bit her bottom lip. She bit herself so hard that her lip split and dark blue blood, with a faint metallic sheen, spilled over her chin. Isabella could assault him mentally and physically if she desired. She could win. Vylrath would know that she was warring within herself as she stared at her daughter. Images of what she wanted to do to Vylrath at that moment, among them flaying the flesh from his muscle, were vivid in her mind and thus would broadcast to the Vampire and to Vylrath.

"Get away from her. Get away from me. If you so much as touch one of the babies I will know it and I will end us." He knew how they were connected. Superficial wounds like the ones on his arm wouldn't phase Bella much, but if one died the other would too unless great power was deferred upon death. Without another word she went to Vylrath and collected her daughter into her arms and hurried over to their packs and the children, intent on taking care of all three.

----------------------

Vuri.

Caela flexed her arm that dangled precariously away from her body. She had the sense of being completely weightless and warm. Was this what it was like when someone died? She would have thought Death would have come to collect her by now.

It was the voices that brought her around, the swaying jolt of Vylrath as he walked, and the whimper of her children.

Caela opened her eyes and blinked rapidly. Her eyes had been a lovely shade of lavender but something had changed in her when she was alone with her father in that dark room. She was dimly aware of her mother's eyes on her and she smiled weakly. She felt the transfer of her body and the smooth grace of her mother as she fled with her to the other side of the room. Caela was perfectly aware. She smiled at her babies and held her hand out to them, but they were shy and she couldn't understand why.

My baby. My poor baby.

The young woman smiled up at her mother as she let her wipe the blood off her face. She was alive. That was amazing to her, she surely had lost most of her lifeblood in that room with her father. She thought that he had finally snapped and was going to kill her. He hadn't though. Caela was aware of the cloth that her mother used to wipe the blood away from her face. It had been white when she dipped it in a bowl of water, but now it was caked with blue. A frown marred her features and she quieted only when Isabella murmured softly to her. She felt so very confused.

It took a few minutes for her to gain her bearings enough to sit up on her own and take a cup of water offered to her by her mother. The reflection she saw in the cup startled her so badly that she threw the cup from her.

Caela no longer had beautiful lavender eyes. Her eyes were a dark sapphire blue with a few small pin pricks of silver. Her eyes looked almost like a lake reflecting the night sky. Her hair was once straight and a brilliant shade of red, but now it was blonde and fell in spiral curls. Gods, no wonder the children didn't come to her! Her skin had been a creamy rose color but now it had the softest sheen of blue -- the faintest reflection of the color.

"What have I become?" Caela's lips trembled slightly as the children wandered back to her, cuddling against her -- knowing it was their mother but as startled as she was at her transformation.

[Vylrath]

“You are all mine.” He towered over the youngster, who amused him by his pint-sized threats. “I.am.your.father. I am your Lord!” The first sacrifice had taken place: his daughter. Caela had felt the blunt of his power, had seen what it can do to the most innocent hearts.

The blade started to form a small haze around the edges, creating a palpable miasma of darkness. It had been weighted with blood and needed immediate release.

Weightlessness...

That was what he felt. He inhaled the substance falling out of the blade like thick syrup. He looked larger than life and felt larger than life. The little boy in front of him was nothing more than an accident- just like the first son in his life.

He could kill him, if he wanted to.

But he didn’t.

The boy would be traumatized enough with the display of power. He showered the boy with his presence, letting his heart constrict with fear that was normally unimaginable. Right now, the boy had no power, no true strength. Vylrath knew that the boy would kill him when he was older. Standing with an untold fierceness, his eyes burned through the soul of the boy.

“You will do well to stay away from me, unless you want to feel my Hell.”

His voice changed: grating, wicked and with a sincere malice.

Isabella would be in shock and Caela would be going through her own inner conflicts. This boy would be a nuisance, maybe the vampire would be a welcome friend. He had never liked blood-suckers- finding them weak. Some were known to keep their food as pets.

“Your sister is in my hands now. Come near me and I will make you my second sacrifice!” He whipped the blade in front of the boy, just enough so that the blade sliced his cheek. He watched blood pour, but found no interest in delighting in its taste.

It would most likely scar the cherub face of the bastard son.

The strange stuff would encase the boy for a mere second, paralyzing him. It would be just to put him in his place. Vylrath watched, pleased with his new finding of this power. It released the boy, leaving him breathless for a moment.

“None of you know what you deal with.”

The blade seemed to glow with a sentience of its own. It craved the closeness of Vylrath. He could use his telepathy when it was using the odd substance in their blood.

Vampire…you are welcome here. Of course this is your domain! My friend is ignorant of immortals.

He knew about immortality. Maybe the vampire would find comfort in his knowledge of their life-force. He moved closer to Isabella, the new essence waved around his frame. It would not last, but a fortnight. He hoped the vampire hadn’t been offended. He would make sure that they paid homage to such a creature.

Demons could relate to a vampires exiled way of life.

“You may stay in my Temple. I apologize for staking claim on something that was once in your hands.” He nodded toward the children, who most likely clutched to each other. “The children will not bother you and we will not bother you.” He picked up Sebilla, knowing that she carried the blood of a human. His eyes watched Trydian, daring him to move. The blade rested at his waist, although tendils seemed to melt in faint wisps from the blade. It was still very active.

“You must hunger. However, she is not for you. I can offer you something greater.” He knew vampires were difficult to coax into a trust, but it may become useful in the future. He would rather make a pact, instead of a new war.

His family needed rest. His body needed rest.

[Angelos]

The scent of blood was thick in the air, a new type that he had never tasted, and it intrigued him. Yet again, the question of what these creatures were crossed his mind. However these thoughts did not allow his mental eye did not miss a single beat of what had transpired in the temple. Through it all, somehow, he was able to permeate the barrier that had kept him out before. He smirked as he listened and watched the transpiring events.

My, my... what a quirky little family, he thought with a humorous tone. They might prove useful after all.

The mental invitation passed over his mind and the smirk nearly faded. No more bloodshed, it seemed, would be happening here, at least on this night. He sighed to himself and pushed off the tree, walking a bit closer to the temple at a mortal's pace. He stopped a few yards away, bathed in a pool of sunlight. Looking up towards the canopy, Angelos reveled in it's warmth. He couldn't feel it per say, but he still remembered what it felt like when he was mortal.

His eyes fell back to the temple, then to the little group (or what he could see of it) in the door way. He spoke softly, but could easily be heard as his vampiric powers carried his voice easily to the others.

"Thank you for the offer... friend, and you need not worry, I will not turn the last of the humans in your group." Perhaps Vylrath knew that Angelos knew the young female was the only one. But it mattered not. "I appreciate it," he continued, "the offer, I mean. But I will find my food elsewhere. I believe I remember a village a few hundred miles ((Or whatever measure of length we use in this realm)) north of here. Past the sea. Hopefully it is still there. I should only be gone a night, but I will return later."

Later, at full strength, he hoped. He would hunt during the night and fill his stores. He could feed once a month and be at full strength. A couple of humans should fill him quite nicely. The hunger stabbed at him. He didn't know how long he had been to ground, but it had to of been a substantial amount of time. He didn't feel at the top of his game, and Angelos knew it wouldn't be too long before it would hinder him completely, and he could find himself at the mercy of this group. He needed to stay strong.

The armor swirled again, tendrils covering his body, reforming, shaping and changing color to the original form it had been when he was spying. The lightweight "leather" now covered him from mid-neck to his toes, the gloves and boots now black to better conceal him in the night. "I shall return, unless you offer a better solution?"

[Jen]

All hell did break loose just as the Vampire was communicating.

"You do not touch these children!" Isabella flew at Vylrath with no heed of her own safety. She didn't give a rat's ass if he impaled her on his tiny little knife, with his tiny little mind thinking he was the owner of them all. Claws bared, she snatched the human child from Vylrath without ever letting her vicious turquoise eyes move from his green. "I will end us, Vylrath. I will do it, don't you fucking tempt me. You push me too far!"

Vylrath's power made her completely unafraid of the old bastard. It may have been foolish, but Vylrath wouldn't -- couldn't -- touch her. Isabella crouched and placed Sebilla next to her brother, Caela tending to his cut face. Without much thought to it, Isabella snatched the bloody rag from her daughter -- dramatically changed to say the least, and pushed the rag into Vylrath's face. She was so much taller than him that it really wasn't fair. Isabella barked an almost insane laugh as she latched her strong fingers behind Vylrath's face and pushed the rag into his face with a very malicious smile on her face. This was not the Isabella, the cool and calm and sweet woman, that all of Xexoria had known. This woman was the cold, calculated, and mildly insane Battleguard that the world had come to agree they couldn't understand.

Isabella was just as powerful as Vylrath, he had seen to it that she be so. However, her power lay in different areas than his. She could haunt him, turn him so far into himself with unending images, she could ruin him. He had pushed her entirely too far. The vampire would undoubtedly sense the shift and pop of power between the two of them. One never quite in control of the other.

Isabella lifted Vylrath by the back of his scrawny neck so that she could stare levelly into his green eyes. He could fight if he wanted to. Any power they unleashed on each other would either nullify or work to kill them. Any power of their own that they used on each other -- the cuts, bruises, the blood would pour from their wounds simultaneously. They were connected as no other creature alive could be connected to another. Even now, if anyone cared to observe, a bruise in the shape of her own hand was forming on the back of her neck.

"Do not tempt me you fool." Then she cast him aside, almost as an afterthought. If he though that he'd be badass enough to welcome a vampire into their midst -- he had another thing coming to him. Vylrath would not be capable of much dignity with Isabella around. Sure the others would cower to him, but to hell if she would! She had done enough of that in her other life, and even then she'd railed at him for being a stupid old demon.

Isabella grabbed the bloodied cloth, smeared with Vylrath's blood, Trydian's blood, and her own. It was a miasma of color's and shades. Her glance flew next to the Vampire, but she appeared sane again. Her temper obviously had a trigger.

"You can do as you wish, Vampire. There may be a fishing village along the coast. We made sure to avoid anyone when we landed -- but the captain of the ship said if we wanted to make ourselves known there was a small village to the east of where we landed." Isabella motioned in that direction as an afterthought. "Small but well contained. If you promise not to eradicate them entirely then I will see you again. You could travel there through cover of the trees and wait for the nightfall if you desire."

Bella didn't offer him any of her blood or any of those in the room with her. She wasn't about to have Sebilla killed or turned into a blood sucker.

For now, Caela was mute and staring into space as she held her children to her body. Vylrath might try to get them from her -- but now she had his strength and his vitality -- if she was a little lost in her own mind. He would not be able to snatch the babies from her ever again.

[Vylrath]

He laughed inside of his head. He felt the rag push against his nostrils. So, that was what this bastard son smelled like! It was glorious, but not to the extent that it would change his life.

When she released the rag, he was a little dazed and with a bloodied nose.

Someone’s laughter filled the cavernous Temple. It was his own…

Oh, how the bitch amused him! Her power swarmed him like Hell itself. His body felt cold, but pleased with its encounter of her. He wiped the blood from his face, wiping it on his clothes. The children would always fear him, but he felt- knew something more rested in Sebilla. She was important to him. If Isabella wanted to keep her away from him, she would have to realize that he had been hunting humans for centuries.

He chuckled still, gathering himself up on his shaking feet. He felt a tinge of embarrassment with the vampire, but it didn’t last. Why did the vampire resist? He was certain that the creature could feel their power coursing through their veins.

His laugher continued, to a point where it would seem like she had broken his sanity. “I apologize, guest. It would seem I lost control of myself. This gracious woman brought me out of it.” His eyes pierced her, the substance controlling him screaming in frustration.

“Maybe you should walk with our guest. Find out how we can make this alliance work.” He knew what she was thinking: he would take the children. He confided in her, gently, as if she was too dumb for common sense. “I won’t hurt the children. I don’t need any more crazy women.”

He laughed to himself. By gods, he had never felt so alive! He would take his leave into the deepest part of the Temple. He looked once more at Trydian, who glared at him with the utmost intent on killing him. He knew that she wouldn’t trust him if he was visibly by their children.

Go, Isabella. We all need rest. I can not stand this feminine atmosphere. He spoke through his mind while the telepathy was still livid with power.