RP:A Vampire's Beginning
Part of the Rest in Pieces: Vailkrin! Arc
Summary: Thinking Larewen responsible for the demise of a human poacher fulfilling her bounty, Elioyahazer confronts her. Disappointed to find that Larewen did not kill the man, the conversation takes an odd turn when the desert born requests to be remade.
The Abyssal Forest
Larewen moved quietly through the forest with her eyes closed. Verdant shadows fell from her open palms, made visible in the dark of the forest by an eldritch glow. She felt her way, navigating by the corruption in the soil, rather than sight. She knew the forest like the back of her hand, as the humans liked to say, and this particular evening she was stopping to smell the proverbial roses. Wolves had been brought to her, and their unearthly howls filled the crisp night air. It was music, and the necromancer absolutely thrived in the absolute evil that pulsed in the air, its source her manor. The elf did have moments like that, ones that humanized her, but no one was ever around to witness them. Probably because it was more likely that the necromancer was feeding her darkness directly into the forest around her, spreading the corruption that wrought itself within her.
Unfortunately being alone isn't in the cards for Larewen. Nay for instead, between the trees and shadows, a pursuer has followed - based on chance. A fated crossing of paths where his mutated eyes discovered she matched a description given to him for a specific job. A task that not many were up too. Elioyahazer however, is more than prepared. As proof, a single silver emblem dangles from his neck engraved in runes and silencing any noise coming from his frame. Even a vampire would be hard-pressed to discover him on hearing alone. Slipping from on tree to cover of another did he follow in pursuit. On hand on a particularly nasty vial of fluid that all vampires detested, the other ready to yank free the sword strapped to his side. He couldn't tell if this woman was truly his target and decided it's best to watch from afar. If she was, an ambush might likely spring from out of nowhere. Elioyahazers steady heart beat like a drum in his chest, his lack of nerves showing. What is this lady doing out here by herself? Are they both hunting for something?
With her eyes closed, Larewen could not see the new threads of magic entwined with the air, and that was pure coincidence too and in Elioyahazer's favor. If his hearing were anything akin to a vampire's, he would notice not just his own heart beating, but another as well, for necromancy powered the elf's very being. The woman did not strike an imposing feature from this angle, dressed in finery as she was. The truth was, Larewen was not hunting this moment; she had what she wanted being brought to her front doorstep, so to speak. Gold talks, after all. When she opened her eyes a moment later, that new thread was seen and recognized as unusual. She turned on her heel to face its source, only to see trees. Her lips pressed into a thin line as her face became visible, mismatched eyes searching the path behind her. The right one was brown, the left green, and they glittered with a tinge of madness. It wouldn't be the first anomaly that the enchanted eye had caught.
Elioyahazer is content to follow and watch in silence, investigation the truth of his task. Was this lady responsible for the death of the hunter or was it someone else? Unlike Larewen, The Sandman is only human, boosted by the alchemical herbs he has ingested for tonight - his body would be sore tomorrow. When she stops, he does too. What's she up too? Well, it's just us. His momentary hesitation is gone and he steps out from behind those trees. The desert born reaches up for his hood and pulls it back to reveal cinnamon skinned features and an ivory grin. Much like Larewen Eli's eyes weren't normal. He suffered from sectoral heterochromia and they both are a mixture of browns with a singular patch of blue. "Madam," Elioyahazers voice is laced with an accent. The visl in his hand is clutched tighly, but the stopper is not removed. It's obvious why a man dressed in a cloak and light armor is here for, but he doesn't make a move. Is he confident? "Are you perhaps the lady who posted this?" His one free hand pulls out her ad for wolves. There are no further words. Not yet at least.
Larewen watched as Elioyahazer stepped out from where he had been hidden, confirming her original suspicion that someone was following her. When the note was procured, Larewen's gaze dropped to the familiar swooping handwriting that was her own. Immediately, she swept her stare around him, searching for a corpse or perhaps two. When she failed to find them, her mind went to the hand she had taken from the board. Great. Fantastic. "I did," she replied, her voice clear and sweet like silver bells. Her stare went to the vial and she waited patiently for his next move.
Elioyahazer stood before this vampire unflinching in his quest for vengeance, but he must be sure. Is she the taker of that man's life? Sarah wanted vengeance, but he would not slay a vampire keeping to laws of Kelay. If Larewen is not responsible, she might know who is. Fortunately, she chose to speak instead of fight. With a raised eyebrow at her seeming disappointment he shakes his head. "I'm not here to bring wolves. I'm here to discuss the rumored hand that was attached to the board. Did you kill that man?" He lowers the note as they get to the heart of his visit. He still stands tall, but keeping his distance to show that he does not mean any harm, at the moment.
Larewen blinked. She raised her left hand, which curiously enough is the only one adorned with a glove, and the air shimmered before her. Reaching into the pocket of disturbed air, she withdrew the rumored hand and put it on display before Elioyahazer. "Can't say I was, though I'd rather she'd brought me the entire body rather than merely a hand. It doesn't have much use, but some is better than none I suppose." She dropped the limb onto the ground then and let the small portal cloe. A moment later, both hands lifted, fingers twisting as she spoke darkly beneath her breath. A simple reanimation spell saw the hand brought back to life and, thrusting itself up on its fingers, the detached hand scurried toward Elioyahazer.
Elioyahazer is patient enough to speak and listen throughout the night and will do so if needed. That is until the hand is brought out before him. So, she carries the hand but claims innocence. When her dark spell is muttered and the hand comes to life Eli shakes his head. A single dagger is pulled from within his cloak, covered in something red and slimy. Well the hand isn't a vampire, but the trick will still work. The dagger is thrown, pinning the hand to the ground with only a flick of his list. Archaic words are uttered, an a singular rune on the pommel of that dagger ignites the red fluid - turning that hand to ash. If Larewen studies the weapon later, she will discover that he's made an alchemical paste from dragons blood, among others, that's highly flammable. "I've no need of the hand. I need a name. Who is responsible. If I find that you have lied, I will come back once more." He still stands there unafraid.
Larewen watched as the hand disintegrated beneath the flare of magic upon the blade--which is bright enough that she brought one hand up to gove her right eye. A moment later, it fell back to her side and a frown weighed her lips downward. She approached Elioyahazer then, heeled boots bringing her close enough that if he wanted to, he could bury a blade in her chest and call her well done. There was no fear on the woman's elven features; it was as if she were almost daring him. As she stared at him, an unearthly roar came from further into the forest. Something had awakened, and Larewen rolled her eyes with exasperation. "Look, I know who did it, but I'm not telling you. That will ruin my fun. If you're going to kill me, get it over and done with--just be ready for the consequences." A grin split her face widely.
Elioyahazer says to Larewen "Ruin your fun? Like you've just ruined mine?" He asks curiously with a raised brow. Did he just throw a joke at her ending this charade in such a way? "I had no intention of killing you. You claim you aren't the killer. No need to lift a finger against you." The loud roar is disheartening, but his words are true. He would get nowhere with this one. His eyes roll, despite their closeness he hasn't once flinched. "Rather daring to approach an armed man in the woods alone aren't you?" What's he getting at? Absolutely nothing, but he does lean in just a little. "I'll find that name sooner or later." His words are but a whisper. With a smile he steps back and pulls up his hood shrouding hid features in shadow. "Until next time then." Elioyahazer turns on foot and begins to leave the forest. How odd. He didn't try to attack her. A human, alone in Vailkrin had the nerve to be alone with her, in the middle of nowhere. What an odd man. His escape into the distance will be rather easy if he's left to leave.
Larewen smirked as he spoke, a brow arching as he dipped nearer. Her nostrils flared, taking in his scent... his humanness. Perhaps the necromancer's fun wasn't ruined yet. As he whispered those words, that quiet threat that he was going to find who killed the man, she shook her head. At first it seemed there would be no attempt on the necromancer's behalf to halt Elioyahazer's departure. But then she stepped after him, conjuring shadows that enveloped her. The materialized shortly before the human, and the woman stepped out of them. Had she just... shadow stepped? Yes, yes she had. She took a step toward him once again, moving intentionally to block his path. There was still fun to be had, and the necromancer intended on having it. Her lips parted, revealing those pearlescent fangs as she lifted her right hand, a single, cool finger reaching to curl under the male's chin. "You killed my pet."
Elioyahazer raised an eyebrow. A single eyebrow at her shadow step. A half grin besmirches his visage. "I did." His shadowed eyes make direct contact with her own in defiance or was it perhaps a playfulness? "Usually a girl needs my permission to get handsy with me and never on the first date. Just showing you today's lesson." The sandman's left hand raises and comes to rest on the hilt of his sword -relaxing.
Larewen blinked at Elioyahazer, her hand falling back to her side for the second time. How was she supposed to stay serious when he said something so unexpected? The half grin, the way in which he spoke... It blatantly threw her off and made her feel something closer to human than monster. For the briefest of moments, anyway. Her expression was that of a woman lost, confused, and then it was cold and hard again, the smile of amusement that briefly flickered into life upon those lips soon slipping away once more. Ultimately, the elf decided he was mocking her, and a low growl rumbled in the depths of her throat.
Elioyahazer had caught the sight of that lost woman in the depths of her expression. Even if they were only a few desperate breaths of time, it was still. Perhaps all the stories from his books weren't true after all. When her expression changed and that low growl began Eli responds once more. "I wasn't mocking you." He takes a deep breath and sighs. What are you even doing talking to a Vampire? She's going to try and feed from you. You fool. He was just being as playful as she, but now it seems the darker half has come to play. A single archaic word is whispered, followed by another. The shroud provided by the amulet springs to life, with a flash bang of light meant to daze, confuse - temporarily blind Larewen. The attack is unexpected and comes from left field. Another night dear vampire. Another night. There is no other attack, instead Elioyahazer hopes to use the abrupt flash to escape into shadows, while cloaked in silence. Vanishing from sight
Larewen is blinded, those four words still echoing in her mind. If it weren’t for that, he likely wouldn’t have had the advantage he needed. As her gaze lit up again and the loud sound followed, she found herself disoriented. The woman turned circles, stepping backwards once or two paces. This time, she loosed a hiss and blinked rapidly. With a word, she brought down darkness upon the forest, thickening the air with a putrid miasma that made it hard to see—perfect for her green left eye. While the right remained blinded, the left searched for that thread of magic that first alerted her to his presence. It took her a moment to find, but once she did the necromancer lunged after it. The elf couldn’t remember the last time she gave chase or hunted prey, but soon enough the thrill kicked in and her speed increased as she continued to try and track him down.
Elioyahazer was moving quite rapidly, as fast as him legs could carry him, though they are no match for a vampire; this much he does know and from his own training. However he wasn't just blindly running through the forest without a plan or without thought. When darkness descends he has no choice but to use the magical light from his amulet. Now he would act, and two of those filthy daggers are raised and thrown at tree limbs, sending fragments of branches down to the floor in their wake, right behind him where she might trip. His sword is finally drawn and whipped about in circular motion while he makes his stand. This isn't an attack, but s check of it's weight. That vial of red liquid has it's stopper pulled free - it's contents spilling out over the blade, poisoning it with a serious threat to her. "You really want to do this?"
Larewen did trip. As the branches came down, and the lay of the forest changed slightly from what she was familiar with, the toe of her boot caught under one and she slid across the ground, landing on her stomach. A moment later, she was up again. Immediately the darkness lightened and she saw the poison dripping upon the blade. This put her fully on the offensive and she extended her right hand. Shadows coalesced at her fingertips, elongating into a twisted and knotted staff of petrified wood. At its head, a verdant skull burst into existence, glowing and laughing wickedly. She tapped its end against the ground and fixed Elioyahazer with her mismatched stare. “I could ask the same of you. All I want is a taste,” she said, and again she stepped nearer. Strangely, the elf showed no fear of the poisoned weapon—even if its dragon’s blood, it wouldn’t be the first time she was cut with it. Once, her body had been riddled with runes carved by a blade coated in it.
Truth be told, Elioyahazer finds this moment fascinating. Both hunters. Both ready to do what's necessary. The more he thinks upon it, the more he realizes he has nothing left. Family. Gone. His home and memories gone. Would it really be so bad? There is a long pause betwixt the two. Could he really beat this vampire right now? No probably not, he was still in training and all the tricks of the trade, weren't yet mastered. He would give it his all if needed, but something told him he wouldn't survive. Elioyahazer clenches his jaw once. "Can you remake me?" He can hardly believe he said it himself. He was supposed to fight these creatures, not become one. But wouldn't it only help his strength? Without further words Elioyahazer plunges the sword into the ground and unties his cloak. Revealing that neck of his.
Larewen was shocked for the second time as Elioyahazer spoke those words. That request befuddled the necromancer, even as she closed the distance between them. His cloak dropped and his head tilted, drawing her gaze to the soft flesh of his throat with inhuman hunger. Two taps of her staff, and the shadows coalesced once more before fading from sight entirely. “I can remake you,” she answered, lifting her hand to caress his throat gently. Mismatched eyes found shadowed once, studying them for a few moments. “But what have I to gain from that? What use could you provide me in undeath, that I could not obtain by reanimating your corpse?”
Elioyahazer responds, "I'm being trained as something called an Outrider. Once I've obtained the title, my ability at taking down mythological creatures, lycans and vampires will be unrivaled. The last was purely human, and -very- successful. That includes my skills at making alchemical potions, oils and pastes which target towards specific beings." He pauses once to look into her eyes without fear. "Though we did not fight, my skill with the blade alone would be enough." An undead version would have none of these talents.
Larewen smirked at Elioyahazer’s answer, another distant memory triggered. Her eyes closed briefly, the flat of her palm pressed to his jaw. Gently curling her fingers behind his neck, the necromancer beckoned Elioyahazer nearer. Her other arm curled around his waist if he didn’t pull away. Pressing her mouth to his ear, cool breath brushed over it as she said quietly to him. “You’ll show me your skills.” She bared her fangs then, moving her hand away from his neck and pressing her mouth to the tender flesh. Larewen savored the warmth of his skin beneath her mouth, even as her fangs grazed his skin in search of that pulsating vein. When she found it, if he didn’t pull away, she suckled the flesh gently before pressing the points of her teeth into his throat. Withdrawing them, her tongue swirled over the open wound, coaxing his blood into her mouth.
Did Elioyahazer really give up on his former life? Was this truly the path that he sought? Show her my skills he thought. She was so close, whispering into his ear. The moment had gone from violence to intimate within the blink of an eye. For many such a change of pace would be alarming, for this desert born it was everyday life of his past. From violence to passion, often times they were one in the same. And right now, is no different. He savored the touch of her lips upon his flesh- savoring him as if he were some treat that would never exist again. If this was death, then so be it. His hands reflexively shift, the first pulling her in by a hand on the flat of her back. Though this might have been gentle, the hand that had found it's way into her hair with a fistful, threatening to keep her from plunging those fangs in. Teasing her with it for just a few moments longer. And then, he pressed her into himself completely. The inlicted bite is nothing in comparison to the pains he had suffered much of his life. In fact, it was a rather delightful sensation, and at her Beck and call his blood trickles out. However his hands stay firm, holding her there egging her on more. He was not yet lost to the sensation.
Larewen felt the tug on her hair, pulled against it in her desire to get to his throat, and loosed a low growl. A moment later, she felt rewarded as his blood flooded her mouth. When Elioyahazer drew her into himself, the necromancer relaxed. She drank deeply of him, savoring the taste of his blood and knowing it would never be the same again. It was sweet on her tongue, lighting up her taste buds in a way they hadn’t been in a long time. Had it really been that long since she drank from a human? Since Artia’s birthday, a few years back she reckoned. Her now free arm shifted under his arm and wrapped back up to his shoulder, holding him tightly against herself as she continued to feed until the blood began to slow. Only then did she draw back, mismatched eyes wild with the flow of fresh blood into her corrupted body. She bit into her mouth then, piercing the lower tier of her lips with her fangs and this time, teasing him in return. Seeking to press her mouth to his, she’d give him a taste of the blood he would need to survive, the fluid thick and black.
Elioyahazer kept himself level headed as best he could. He had read about being sired, but never had he imagined it to be so gentle. As she continues to feed, he can feel his strength wavering, slipping from his grasp like sand through the cracks. The red vitae of life flowing from his beating heart into her, bringing that rose colored complexion to her skin - his growing ever more pale. His hands began to roam little by little, perhaps the bodies reaction to being near dry, but he does not push her away. He can feel himself hungering for oxygen that his brain no longer received in ample amounts. His eyes growing heavy, his grip slacking. But his thoughts were pulled to focus when she began to feed him her own blood. Her teasing much like his own, and that reaffirms his stance here and now. Her teasing lasts for only the blink of an eye, when his mouth presses to her own. Drink. His brain told him. And so he did, while hungrily kissing this Vampire in his arms, whether she wanted that or not. He simply took both as they were offered.
Larewen returned the kiss, continued to offer from that small wellspring of blood that had bubbled up on her lip for a few moments longer. And then she drew back, pulling her lip from his mouth and sweeping over it with her tongue to lap up a few drops of the dark ichor. At this moment, she unwrapped her right arm from around his shoulder and brought it to her mouth, tearing into the veins of her wrist with her teeth alone. If it hurt, she showed no sign of discomfort. Instead she released him altogether, her gloved left hand raising to the back of his head to guide his mouth toward the open vein. “Drink,” she says, her voice soft and quiet.
Elioyahazer blinks once as she pulls away from him, and tears into her own flesh anew. The offered appendage is glanced at for only a heartbeat of time. It is with a slow hand that reaches to her, that he moves in to do as commanded. Drink. The ichor released from within her would be his saviour. Without any words, he set his mind to the task. That is until she stopped him. Even then, he's not sure he would.
The corrupted blood flowed from host to leech freely, sickeningly sweet in its taste. Dark power thrummed within it, invigorating and amplifying any latent dark abilities the male might have. It prodded at the edges of his mind too, seeking any opening by which its tainted touch could twist. Larewen knew this by now, after Killian, and it never ceased to amaze her what the outcome might be. As her thoughts wander, as Elioyahazer drank, she would eventually feel herself growing weaker and weaker; fatigue set in and she began to pull her wrist away from the male.
Elioyahazer drank deeply. As much of it as she would give him. The corruption being shared with him spreads throughout his body and soon his mind might be broken in different ways. His grip on her tightens while he continues to feed. More. He couldn't give this up. It was just too good. But with that tug, comes a reminder. A reminder of where he is and what he's doing. That isn't just sup never ending cup. And it is with a near groan that his lips slip from her. His eyes close, and he's breaths, taking in what would soon change him entirely. After what seems like minutes, his eyes open, his sights twist to meet hers. He is wordless. Filled with questions. What is to come?
Larewen wavered slightly after she was released, the bleeding limb lowered. Her eyes close a moment and when they open, they are somewhat glazed. Not so much so that she couldn’t read his expression, though. Soon, his mortal body would die, and then he would come back—but the middle of the forest wasn’t the best place for such a transition. Instead, she reached with her bloody hand for his, fingers seeking to intwine with his own. Only then would she guide him west and then north, to House Dragana. She’d failed her last sirelings, but the elf was determined not to this time: she would sit with him, and wait for the change to occur, even going so far as to lead him inside the foyer of the manse and onto one of the dark green settees.
House Dragana
Elioyahazer wonders if this is where he will die. If his body will fall in the woods to be fertilizer for the numerous trees. He responds to Larewens hand with his own shaking one - intertwining fingers as she does. He was giving up mortality, which is an experience every vampire must have. He had been on death's door multiple times, however tonight is the only night it's assured. Perhaps there was a little excitement, which creeps into the cracks of his lips. Their walk is uneventful, and without question. He could still feel that corruption within him. Still fighting with his humanity. When he is lead through the home to a settee he comes to a stop. With a sigh of relief he takes a seat. Were they to wait until he passed? He had lost so much blood that it's shouldn't have taken long. He is amazed that they even made it. But it is now, that he notices something. His beating heart is slowling. His breathing. Everything that makes him tick starts to fog over. With one last look to Larewen, pain starts to spread through his limbs, but he only tenses. His breathing stops, and his consciousness drifts into the after life.
Larewen remained by his side, even when the sound of two heartbeats became one. Her own, necromanticized heart beat quietly into the evening as Elioyahazer's body died. She listened as his last breath fell, seating herself on the floor beside the settee he'd chosen. In time, he'd awaken again. Until then, Larewen preoccupied herself with yelling for Margret to warm blood and bring it to the room. Margret entered a few moments later to see why and her head shook. "Going to abandon him, like the others," she said, tsking and Larewen responded with a shake of her head. Sharply. "Do as you're told, he'll be hungry when he awakes." And so silence would ensue until Margret brought a cauldron and cups into the room--with the help of her equally ghoulish, equally elderly husband, Sigmund.
It was during this time that Elioyahazers mortal body was shifting though changes. Letting loose the mortal could of human life. The effect he had desired on a whim. A chance for a new way. But who knows how these changes will warp his mind. Will he ever be the same again? For a long while there is nothing. No movement. No change in Elioyahazers visage. His dead features lie in an odd void, bereft of any emotions. Not even serenity could claim it. He was just simply there, dead in a stranger's settee. Was it worth it Eli? When the blood is brought for his awakening, there is still nothing. Not a peep of sound. When an even greater length of time passed, he jolted awake with a pained expression. Eyes twitching through the room. Looking over the stranger's faces. There is confusion. A great chasm of confusion that muddled his mind. But there is something else tearing at him, from what he believes to be his nature. Hunger. An insatiable hunger. Of all things unholy he was desperately hungry and it was written over his pake features. His eyes flicked between them all once more and settle on Larewen.
Larewen stood up and began to pace as time waned on. Elioyahazer took longer than was normal for her to wake again and when he finally did, the elf snapped to. Through magic, she kept the cauldron warmed. When he finally came to the necromancer was at his side in an instant. She knew that feeling, that hunger. She remained tired, having gotten no rest herself. Grabbing one of the goblets from the end table, she ladled some of the blood out of the cauldron and then raised the cup to Elioyahazer's mouth. "Drink," she said again, and she would refill the cup until he had his fill.
Elioyahazer offered no complaints and took the goblet, pulling it straight to his lips and drinking it down. When the taste first met his tongue, he was surprised, his eyes go wide. This wasn't anything like he expected. Remembered blood was like sucking on a copper coin. But this?! What is this sorcery? Before long the goblet had been drained. Everything was suddenly different. His senses were alive like never before and he basked in it for moments. Though something else was creeping at the cracks of his mind. That little bit of corruption already altering his mind. When his gaze moves to Larewen he does something unexpected and uninvited. He attempts to put an arm around her and down to the settee with him. There is no flirtatious grin besmirching his visage, but a questioning one. " Did you stay with me?" He huffed another breath. "You must be tired lady." His mind shifts to a chat they had before his transformation. "Why not rest, and tomorrow, I will show you the strength that you have acquired. Unless you'd rather see them now." For the moment his hunger was solved and his mind altered. He simply called her lady, because they have still not even introduced themselves. What an interesting group of vampires. Just going with the flow. "My name Is Elioyahazers. My friends call me Eli, and those with enough coin to be my employer, know me as the sandman."
Larewen doesn't resist the pull, for she is, in fact, quite tired. Mostly because, and she only realized this now, but she could have been resting, drinking while awaiting the stranger's return. She'd done neither. And it showed. Now sitting alongside the former human, Larewen shook her head. "It can wait," she said. Then he introduced himself and Larewen stared at him for a long moment. It all messed with her mind, the last few hours. She'd gone from being an intended target, to hunting the hunter, to... siring him? It'd been a long while since she last sired someone without first knowing them. Luwiche had been years ago, after all. And it's the first time she lingered around to help. "Larewen," she replied, introducing herself on an personal level, rather than the haughty title she loved so much. The elf's mind swam, and she was, for the moment, completely and utterly broken.
Elioyahazer offers a smile to Larewen and a nod. Remembering the name for eternity. It was a rather strange twist of fate, but here they stood, two stranger's. "Understood," Elioyahazer confirms her desire to wait. This time he stands and looks to the blood brought for him. "I now you've just fed, but would you like some?" A positive answer would prompt Eli to fulfil that. If negative, he would drink a little more for himself, and pace it out over his next few questions. "Is there an inn or tavern nearby? I can hardly impose on you further, and allow you to get a little rest right?" His gaze moves back the the cup; these sensations would take some time to get used too. "You can call on me when you've had a chance to rest.
Larewen lifted her head in acquiesce to the offer of blood, and took the cup. Drinking deeply, she listened as he posed his queries. With a shake of her head, she spoke finally, her silvery voice tired. "The nearest would be the Hanging Corpse in Vailkrin, and that's the last place a fledgling wants to be wandering alone from this direction," she spoke. "The City is at war, and one whiff of my corruption will paint a target on your back. I'd be far more comfortable if you took up residence here, within my estate." As she spoke, she lifted a hand. Upstairs, out of sight, the design on a door changed. Glittering topaz encrusted the dark wood, coupled with white and chocolate diamonds to form the shape of an hour glass, the topazes (sand) constantly trickling. "I will show you the way." She rose to her feet again and lowering the empty cup to one of the end tables, the necromancer moved to guide Elioyahazer up the grand staircase.
Elioyahazer realized right then and there, she could make use of his unique abilities. Vailkrin is at war and there would be plenty of opportunity. Chances to hone his skills and grow further than he thought possible. When she explains the fledgling status he 'ah's. Elioyahazer finishes his last cup an places it back down before he follows Larewen. He had a few nagging suspicions that he would still be going through changes, that one night was not all that it took. Instead, things would grow for him from here on out. It was time to settle in somewhere new. Before long the duo make it up the grand staircase, Eli keeping pace with her at her side. Content for now that everything has turned out alright, whether for the better is yet to be seen.
Larewen turned the staircase at the ballroom, then led him up to the top floor of the manse and to its northern wing. There were five rooms located on this side, with the one at the end of the hall having the most ornate doors of all. With glittering emeralds forming a skull, it's no doubt Larewen's own room. She stopped at the door with the hour glass, the last on the left before her own. Across the hall was a door emblazoned with a sapphire diamond. Khitti's old room, left as it was. "Here you go," she said softly.
Elioyahazer gives one final nod to Larewen and a half smile. "Thank you." Without further delay, he moves into the offered room and takes a deep breath. Home, for now it seems. One more place is given to lady Larewen. "I'll see you tomorrow." Elioyahazer moves further into the room without closing the door and settling in.
Larewen lingered for a few moments at the door way, then stepped in after Elioyahazer.