Chapter 112: 112
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Two twinned paws press against the swell of my thigh as the white fox lifts himself up to inspect me, tilting his head queryingly to one side, ears twitching, eyes wide, as though not expecting something so meaningful, so passionate to come out of my mouth, and finding himself startled upon hearing it. The antennae on his head pulse with an eager light as I watch him closely. The shifting shadows that swirl with a menacing semblance around me push back, curling back into my pale form.
You mean it?
He asks, pupils dilating as he wills me to answer.
As if I even needed to think about it.
"I promise you, I would never, ever, do anything to harm her," I say, leaning down to face nearer to him, near enough that I can feel his hot breath spilling out against my face with its strangely mortal warmth, close enough that I can hear the frantic beating of his heart and the repetition of one line resounding through his body, thrumming through his blood, calling me to action.
Save her.
At once I feel incredibly mortal.
"Tell me what to do, Fangorn," I say, swivelling on my seat now, pushing aside my wine glass with a dismissive carelessness, sloshing the half empty globules of liquid up the side of the glass. Fangorn peers at me. Although his face remains stoic, blank (an assessing look and one I have often seen in my long life of knowing him), there is a faint glimmer of proudness in his eyes, and I am sure if I looked into his heart I would know exactly the words that beat there.
He folds his arms over himself.
"By the sounds of it, no mortal tonic can save her. Potions are out of the question, even yours, Kal," he adds just as Kal raises a hand, causing him to sink defeatedly back into his seat, a grumbling look on his face.
Kal has specialised in the dabbling arts of potion making ever since he arrived in Sezeria- potion making, and rare spells, he has always been quite the sight to behold. Dragons, of course, are ancient creatures and the knowledge they possess is nigh unbeatable. But that does not necessarily mean they have the solution for everything. In his state of reprimanded sulkiness, Kal leans down to absently run his fingers through the foxes silky hair, the subject of which meets this sudden intrusion of his privacy with a stiff and rigid stance. From the look in his eyes, I have no doubt that he would much rather be outside with the rabble of drunkards than in here pandering to Kal's miseries. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
"Locating one of the Seven healers would be both too risky, and there is no guarantee their magic will be able to bring her back from, well, practically death."
Panic starts to rise inside me as Fangorn lists off several more useless solutions on his fingers, ticking each one off with a tap and a firm shake of his head. After all, I did not come here only to find myself in the same position in which I started. Just as Fangorn is about to list off another factor on his fingers, Kal butts in, raising his hand with a sudden, unexpectated enthusiasm that brings all of us (even the irritated fox on the floor) to a hasty attention. Stars glint in the back of his eyes.
"Wait, wait wait wait, it's obvious, isn't it?" Kal groans, slapping a hand on his head in a somewhat frivolous manner. I raise my brow in silent questioning, urging him to continue on with his spiel. Fangorn and the little fox, too, glare him down with the same look of unhinged yet simultaneously eager questioning, as though offended that between the two of them they have been outsmarted by Kal but still somewhat grateful for a solution to be presented- whatever calibre that solution may be of. I hope silently to myself it is of some merit.
"Well?" Fangorn says gruffly, flicking his fingers back past his horns to stare down at the lean dragon. It would seem both he and I are in no mood for fanciful games of suspense and unnecessary messing around, then again my stretch of patience never had been too great. Kal's wings twitch with unbridled fervour.
"Come on," he says, rolling his eyes, his mouth twitching into a smug grin as he splays his hands wide, leaning back on the chair which creaks under the weight of him. Kal continues, rolling his eyes once more at our silence with an added hint of sarcasm as he finds no answers from the dumbfounded and slightly irritable faces surrounding him.
"You lot- big scary vampires who practically feast on the souls of the innocent every day-"
"We do not," I mutter, but Kal does not seem to notice.
"Has it not occurred to you that if we can't revive her with potions and spells, you could just, you know, have her take your blood?"
The answer which rings out is one of indisputable unison.
"Absolutely not!"
I bang my fist against the table, eyes flaming, breath heavy in my throat, bringing the room to a tremulous silence. Fangorn is in a stance not dissimilar, his dark hair falling messily around his face from the sudden outburst, caught halfway out of his seat as though prepared to launch himself head first at Kal. At our perceived denial, Kal has the nerve to give me a pout, but doesn't shrink back. Instead he leans forward, waving a finger drunkenly from across the table.
"Well why not? Vampire blood has amazing regenerative properties- so amazing in fact that you lot are immortal- and yet still you have the nerve to lecture me about dying. Soren, if you gave her your blood, she would be cured, whole even!"
An angry growl cuts through my response, reverberating lowly from the floor as the white fox voices his indignation with visible distress.
Don't be so ignorant, Kal,
The voice echoes furiously in my head, tainted with the bitter tones of wrathful outrage. I suppose humorously to myself that if the little fox was a human, he might have been spitting. For such a small creature, he certainly can harbour a plentiful amount of emotions. This time, Kal does recoil slightly, as though the foxes words have caused some sort of personal offence to him.
Do you know what… what that will make her, if she takes his blood?
A shrieking whine rises up from the foxes bared teeth, taking a moment to compose himself with a visible difficulty. He continues slowly:
Too much vampire blood and it will start making changes to your body- permanent ones. I will not see my lady, My Queen, sullied by his blood!
The virulent manner in which he utters the last two words almost have me recoiling from the sting- almost because I actually couldn't give two fucks less about what the fox has to say about me, after all, he makes his hatred as clear for me as I do him. But that doesn't change the fact he is indisputably right, however much I hate it.
"Kal, he is correct, you know. Giving her my blood would be like starting the transformation ritual to make her a vampire- the only thing that would be missing would be to kill her and let her rise undead. My blood particularly- as a Prince of two pure bloodlines- is incredibly potent. I doubt she would last two drops without it starting to have an impact on her body- and her mind."
A heavy shudder runs through the fox, whose relentless pacing has fortunately ceased for the mercy of my sanity (not that I particularly have much of that anyway). His tail bats ardently on the ground, but still, Kal remains unconvinced.
"No offense, Ithuriel, Soren," he says, raising his hands in desperate pleading for me not to maul him as soon as we leave the pub or taking him out the back and sending him flying. My heels tap an impatient tune of the polished floor, making no promise of either. "But surely saving her would be the priority over maybe having some changes happen to her as a result of your blood. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?"
I glance down at the fox sitting by our feet.
"Should you tell him, or should I?" I mock whisper down to him, cupping my hand around my mouth as the two of us exchange a look of pure exasperation. The fox's tail thumps against the ground impatiently again, until at last I take his silence as an indication that I should be the one to do it. I suppose that would be the obvious answer, after all, I am the vampire here, not him, and so I quite expect his knowledge on transformations to be rather limited. Meticulously, I straighten up, unruffling the folds of my court coat as I clear my throat.
"Well," I start, glaring a little too long at the slender dragon boy, just to ensure my distaste of the idea has been adequately expressed. "It could alter her mind, give her a taste for blood. Cause her limbs to lengthen and become more slender- which I have heard is excruciatingly painful. Her teeth might sharpen to fangs, her irises may be blotted out with red, she could grow horns, it might even make her aggressive for a while- as is the nature of most vampires. She will be branded with my 'mark', a permanent stain on her body that marks her as part of my blood. Do you know how much she would want to kill me if I did that to her?" I sigh, placing a hand on my forehead to steady myself. The last thing I need when Serena wakes up is to have her expending all her energy to rage at me. With a touch of hesitation, I continue: "Essentially, my blood would be preparing her body for a transformation that I am not willing to give her. No, I will not do it,"
Beside me, the fox scoffs in a strangely human manner.
I thought you of all people would want to make her your little vampire Queen.
For a second, I see red. Angrily I slam my fists down on the table, silencing them all.
No. I absolutely do not want to see her become like me. I shall not live to see the day where she will become a monster, or end up like my brother, drugged on the high of sex and malicious deeds, scheming at plots in the underground of the palace. There is too much good in her, I cannot afford to ruin it. There has got to be another way.
There has to be.
"I will not turn her," I state blandly, my voice rising with the fervent pitches of anger and bitter indignation. I bang my fist on the table once more out of rage, but the feeling barely registers within me.
"Don't you understand? It would ruin her! Ruin what…"
I pause for a moment, letting that unholy resentment simmer within me for a moment, dying down into a lulling throb that pulses in my insides like the heart I do not have but so dearly want. My throat works with the effort of voicing the acknowledgement that I have strived so long to dismiss.
"It would ruin what she is."
Kal looks at me- really looks at me, as though suddenly seeing me for the first time, but is quite unsure what to make of what he sees there. Little wisps of yellow magic curl from his fingers, as he leans one hand under his chin to steady himself on the table.
"If you choose to give her your blood, I may have something that can help reduce its effects. Its not a full guarantee, but it will prevent her from being turned into a wild halfling.. But Soren, this might be the only option you have. So what's it going to be? Will you give her your blood? Or will you let her die?"
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Two twinned paws press against the swell of my thigh as the white fox lifts himself up to inspect me, tilting his head queryingly to one side, ears twitching, eyes wide, as though not expecting something so meaningful, so passionate to come out of my mouth, and finding himself startled upon hearing it. The antennae on his head pulse with an eager light as I watch him closely. The shifting shadows that swirl with a menacing semblance around me push back, curling back into my pale form.
You mean it?
He asks, pupils dilating as he wills me to answer.
As if I even needed to think about it.
"I promise you, I would never, ever, do anything to harm her," I say, leaning down to face nearer to him, near enough that I can feel his hot breath spilling out against my face with its strangely mortal warmth, close enough that I can hear the frantic beating of his heart and the repetition of one line resounding through his body, thrumming through his blood, calling me to action.
Save her.
At once I feel incredibly mortal.
"Tell me what to do, Fangorn," I say, swivelling on my seat now, pushing aside my wine glass with a dismissive carelessness, sloshing the half empty globules of liquid up the side of the glass. Fangorn peers at me. Although his face remains stoic, blank (an assessing look and one I have often seen in my long life of knowing him), there is a faint glimmer of proudness in his eyes, and I am sure if I looked into his heart I would know exactly the words that beat there.
He folds his arms over himself.
"By the sounds of it, no mortal tonic can save her. Potions are out of the question, even yours, Kal," he adds just as Kal raises a hand, causing him to sink defeatedly back into his seat, a grumbling look on his face.
Kal has specialised in the dabbling arts of potion making ever since he arrived in Sezeria- potion making, and rare spells, he has always been quite the sight to behold. Dragons, of course, are ancient creatures and the knowledge they possess is nigh unbeatable. But that does not necessarily mean they have the solution for everything. In his state of reprimanded sulkiness, Kal leans down to absently run his fingers through the foxes silky hair, the subject of which meets this sudden intrusion of his privacy with a stiff and rigid stance. From the look in his eyes, I have no doubt that he would much rather be outside with the rabble of drunkards than in here pandering to Kal's miseries. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost.
"Locating one of the Seven healers would be both too risky, and there is no guarantee their magic will be able to bring her back from, well, practically death."
Panic starts to rise inside me as Fangorn lists off several more useless solutions on his fingers, ticking each one off with a tap and a firm shake of his head. After all, I did not come here only to find myself in the same position in which I started. Just as Fangorn is about to list off another factor on his fingers, Kal butts in, raising his hand with a sudden, unexpectated enthusiasm that brings all of us (even the irritated fox on the floor) to a hasty attention. Stars glint in the back of his eyes.
"Wait, wait wait wait, it's obvious, isn't it?" Kal groans, slapping a hand on his head in a somewhat frivolous manner. I raise my brow in silent questioning, urging him to continue on with his spiel. Fangorn and the little fox, too, glare him down with the same look of unhinged yet simultaneously eager questioning, as though offended that between the two of them they have been outsmarted by Kal but still somewhat grateful for a solution to be presented- whatever calibre that solution may be of. I hope silently to myself it is of some merit.
"Well?" Fangorn says gruffly, flicking his fingers back past his horns to stare down at the lean dragon. It would seem both he and I are in no mood for fanciful games of suspense and unnecessary messing around, then again my stretch of patience never had been too great. Kal's wings twitch with unbridled fervour.
"Come on," he says, rolling his eyes, his mouth twitching into a smug grin as he splays his hands wide, leaning back on the chair which creaks under the weight of him. Kal continues, rolling his eyes once more at our silence with an added hint of sarcasm as he finds no answers from the dumbfounded and slightly irritable faces surrounding him.
"You lot- big scary vampires who practically feast on the souls of the innocent every day-"
"We do not," I mutter, but Kal does not seem to notice.
"Has it not occurred to you that if we can't revive her with potions and spells, you could just, you know, have her take your blood?"
The answer which rings out is one of indisputable unison.
"Absolutely not!"
I bang my fist against the table, eyes flaming, breath heavy in my throat, bringing the room to a tremulous silence. Fangorn is in a stance not dissimilar, his dark hair falling messily around his face from the sudden outburst, caught halfway out of his seat as though prepared to launch himself head first at Kal. At our perceived denial, Kal has the nerve to give me a pout, but doesn't shrink back. Instead he leans forward, waving a finger drunkenly from across the table.
"Well why not? Vampire blood has amazing regenerative properties- so amazing in fact that you lot are immortal- and yet still you have the nerve to lecture me about dying. Soren, if you gave her your blood, she would be cured, whole even!"
An angry growl cuts through my response, reverberating lowly from the floor as the white fox voices his indignation with visible distress.
Don't be so ignorant, Kal,
The voice echoes furiously in my head, tainted with the bitter tones of wrathful outrage. I suppose humorously to myself that if the little fox was a human, he might have been spitting. For such a small creature, he certainly can harbour a plentiful amount of emotions. This time, Kal does recoil slightly, as though the foxes words have caused some sort of personal offence to him.
Do you know what… what that will make her, if she takes his blood?
A shrieking whine rises up from the foxes bared teeth, taking a moment to compose himself with a visible difficulty. He continues slowly:
Too much vampire blood and it will start making changes to your body- permanent ones. I will not see my lady, My Queen, sullied by his blood!
The virulent manner in which he utters the last two words almost have me recoiling from the sting- almost because I actually couldn't give two fucks less about what the fox has to say about me, after all, he makes his hatred as clear for me as I do him. But that doesn't change the fact he is indisputably right, however much I hate it.
"Kal, he is correct, you know. Giving her my blood would be like starting the transformation ritual to make her a vampire- the only thing that would be missing would be to kill her and let her rise undead. My blood particularly- as a Prince of two pure bloodlines- is incredibly potent. I doubt she would last two drops without it starting to have an impact on her body- and her mind."
A heavy shudder runs through the fox, whose relentless pacing has fortunately ceased for the mercy of my sanity (not that I particularly have much of that anyway). His tail bats ardently on the ground, but still, Kal remains unconvinced.
"No offense, Ithuriel, Soren," he says, raising his hands in desperate pleading for me not to maul him as soon as we leave the pub or taking him out the back and sending him flying. My heels tap an impatient tune of the polished floor, making no promise of either. "But surely saving her would be the priority over maybe having some changes happen to her as a result of your blood. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?"
I glance down at the fox sitting by our feet.
"Should you tell him, or should I?" I mock whisper down to him, cupping my hand around my mouth as the two of us exchange a look of pure exasperation. The fox's tail thumps against the ground impatiently again, until at last I take his silence as an indication that I should be the one to do it. I suppose that would be the obvious answer, after all, I am the vampire here, not him, and so I quite expect his knowledge on transformations to be rather limited. Meticulously, I straighten up, unruffling the folds of my court coat as I clear my throat.
"Well," I start, glaring a little too long at the slender dragon boy, just to ensure my distaste of the idea has been adequately expressed. "It could alter her mind, give her a taste for blood. Cause her limbs to lengthen and become more slender- which I have heard is excruciatingly painful. Her teeth might sharpen to fangs, her irises may be blotted out with red, she could grow horns, it might even make her aggressive for a while- as is the nature of most vampires. She will be branded with my 'mark', a permanent stain on her body that marks her as part of my blood. Do you know how much she would want to kill me if I did that to her?" I sigh, placing a hand on my forehead to steady myself. The last thing I need when Serena wakes up is to have her expending all her energy to rage at me. With a touch of hesitation, I continue: "Essentially, my blood would be preparing her body for a transformation that I am not willing to give her. No, I will not do it,"
Beside me, the fox scoffs in a strangely human manner.
I thought you of all people would want to make her your little vampire Queen.
For a second, I see red. Angrily I slam my fists down on the table, silencing them all.
No. I absolutely do not want to see her become like me. I shall not live to see the day where she will become a monster, or end up like my brother, drugged on the high of sex and malicious deeds, scheming at plots in the underground of the palace. There is too much good in her, I cannot afford to ruin it. There has got to be another way.
There has to be.
"I will not turn her," I state blandly, my voice rising with the fervent pitches of anger and bitter indignation. I bang my fist on the table once more out of rage, but the feeling barely registers within me.
"Don't you understand? It would ruin her! Ruin what…"
I pause for a moment, letting that unholy resentment simmer within me for a moment, dying down into a lulling throb that pulses in my insides like the heart I do not have but so dearly want. My throat works with the effort of voicing the acknowledgement that I have strived so long to dismiss.
"It would ruin what she is."
Kal looks at me- really looks at me, as though suddenly seeing me for the first time, but is quite unsure what to make of what he sees there. Little wisps of yellow magic curl from his fingers, as he leans one hand under his chin to steady himself on the table.
"If you choose to give her your blood, I may have something that can help reduce its effects. Its not a full guarantee, but it will prevent her from being turned into a wild halfling.. But Soren, this might be the only option you have. So what's it going to be? Will you give her your blood? Or will you let her die?"
Two twinned paws press against the swell of my thigh as the white fox lifts himself up to inspect me, tilting his head queryingly to one side, ears twitching, eyes wide, as though not expecting something so meaningful, so passionate to come out of my mouth, and finding himself startled upon hearing it. The antennae on his head pulse with an eager light as I watch him closely. The shifting shadows that swirl with a menacing semblance around me push back, curling back into my pale form.You mean it?He asks, pupils dilating as he wills me to answer. As if I even needed to think about it."I promise you, I would never, ever, do anything to harm her," I say, leaning down to face nearer to him, near enough that I can feel his hot breath spilling out against my face with its strangely mortal warmth, close enough that I can hear the frantic beating of his heart and the repetition of one line resounding through his body, thrumming through his blood, calling me to action.Save her.At once I feel incredibly mortal."Tell me what to do, Fangorn," I say, swivelling on my seat now, pushing aside my wine glass with a dismissive carelessness, sloshing the half empty globules of liquid up the side of the glass. Fangorn peers at me. Although his face remains stoic, blank an assessing look and one I have often seen in my long life of knowing him, there is a faint glimmer of proudness in his eyes, and I am sure if I looked into his heart I would know exactly the words that beat there.He folds his arms over himself."By the sounds of it, no mortal tonic can save her. Potions are out of the question, even yours, Kal," he adds just as Kal raises a hand, causing him to sink defeatedly back into his seat, a grumbling look on his face. Kal has specialised in the dabbling arts of potion making ever since he arrived in Sezeria- potion making, and rare spells, he has always been quite the sight to behold. Dragons, of course, are ancient creatures and the knowledge they possess is nigh unbeatable. But that does not necessarily mean they have the solution for everything. In his state of reprimanded sulkiness, Kal leans down to absently run his fingers through the foxes silky hair, the subject of which meets this sudden intrusion of his privacy with a stiff and rigid stance. From the look in his eyes, I have no doubt that he would much rather be outside with the rabble of drunkards than in here pandering to Kal's miseries. I almost feel sorry for him. Almost."Locating one of the Seven healers would be both too risky, and there is no guarantee their magic will be able to bring her back from, well, practically death."Panic starts to rise inside me as Fangorn lists off several more useless solutions on his fingers, ticking each one off with a tap and a firm shake of his head. After all, I did not come here only to find myself in the same position in which I started. Just as Fangorn is about to list off another factor on his fingers, Kal butts in, raising his hand with a sudden, unexpectated enthusiasm that brings all of us even the irritated fox on the floor to a hasty attention. Stars glint in the back of his eyes."Wait, wait wait wait, it's obvious, isn't it?" Kal groans, slapping a hand on his head in a somewhat frivolous manner. I raise my brow in silent questioning, urging him to continue on with his spiel. Fangorn and the little fox, too, glare him down with the same look of unhinged yet simultaneously eager questioning, as though offended that between the two of them they have been outsmarted by Kal but still somewhat grateful for a solution to be presented- whatever calibre that solution may be of. I hope silently to myself it is of some merit."Well?" Fangorn says gruffly, flicking his fingers back past his horns to stare down at the lean dragon. It would seem both he and I are in no mood for fanciful games of suspense and unnecessary messing around, then again my stretch of patience never had been too great. Kal's wings twitch with unbridled fervour. "Come on," he says, rolling his eyes, his mouth twitching into a smug grin as he splays his hands wide, leaning back on the chair which creaks under the weight of him. Kal continues, rolling his eyes once more at our silence with an added hint of sarcasm as he finds no answers from the dumbfounded and slightly irritable faces surrounding him."You lot- big scary vampires who practically feast on the souls of the innocent every day-""We do not," I mutter, but Kal does not seem to notice."Has it not occurred to you that if we can't revive her with potions and spells, you could just, you know, have her take your blood?"The answer which rings out is one of indisputable unison."Absolutely not!"I bang my fist against the table, eyes flaming, breath heavy in my throat, bringing the room to a tremulous silence. Fangorn is in a stance not dissimilar, his dark hair falling messily around his face from the sudden outburst, caught halfway out of his seat as though prepared to launch himself head first at Kal. At our perceived denial, Kal has the nerve to give me a pout, but doesn't shrink back. Instead he leans forward, waving a finger drunkenly from across the table."Well why not? Vampire blood has amazing regenerative properties- so amazing in fact that you lot are immortal- and yet still you have the nerve to lecture me about dying. Soren, if you gave her your blood, she would be cured, whole even!"An angry growl cuts through my response, reverberating lowly from the floor as the white fox voices his indignation with visible distress.Don't be so ignorant, Kal,The voice echoes furiously in my head, tainted with the bitter tones of wrathful outrage. I suppose humorously to myself that if the little fox was a human, he might have been spitting. For such a small creature, he certainly can harbour a plentiful amount of emotions. This time, Kal does recoil slightly, as though the foxes words have caused some sort of personal offence to him. Do you know what what that will make her, if she takes his blood?A shrieking whine rises up from the foxes bared teeth, taking a moment to compose himself with a visible difficulty. He continues slowly:Too much vampire blood and it will start making changes to your body- permanent ones. I will not see my lady, My Queen, sullied by his blood! The virulent manner in which he utters the last two words almost have me recoiling from the sting- almost because I actually couldn't give two fucks less about what the fox has to say about me, after all, he makes his hatred as clear for me as I do him. But that doesn't change the fact he is indisputably right, however much I hate it."Kal, he is correct, you know. Giving her my blood would be like starting the transformation ritual to make her a vampire- the only thing that would be missing would be to kill her and let her rise undead. My blood particularly- as a Prince of two pure bloodlines- is incredibly potent. I doubt she would last two drops without it starting to have an impact on her body- and her mind."A heavy shudder runs through the fox, whose relentless pacing has fortunately ceased for the mercy of my sanity not that I particularly have much of that anyway. His tail bats ardently on the ground, but still, Kal remains unconvinced. "No offense, Ithuriel, Soren," he says, raising his hands in desperate pleading for me not to maul him as soon as we leave the pub or taking him out the back and sending him flying. My heels tap an impatient tune of the polished floor, making no promise of either. "But surely saving her would be the priority over maybe having some changes happen to her as a result of your blood. I mean, what's the worst that can happen?"I glance down at the fox sitting by our feet."Should you tell him, or should I?" I mock whisper down to him, cupping my hand around my mouth as the two of us exchange a look of pure exasperation. The fox's tail thumps against the ground impatiently again, until at last I take his silence as an indication that I should be the one to do it. I suppose that would be the obvious answer, after all, I am the vampire here, not him, and so I quite expect his knowledge on transformations to be rather limited. Meticulously, I straighten up, unruffling the folds of my court coat as I clear my throat."Well," I start, glaring a little too long at the slender dragon boy, just to ensure my distaste of the idea has been adequately expressed. "It could alter her mind, give her a taste for blood. Cause her limbs to lengthen and become more slender- which I have heard is excruciatingly painful. Her teeth might sharpen to fangs, her irises may be blotted out with red, she could grow horns, it might even make her aggressive for a while- as is the nature of most vampires. She will be branded with my 'mark', a permanent stain on her body that marks her as part of my blood. Do you know how much she would want to kill me if I did that to her?" I sigh, placing a hand on my forehead to steady myself. The last thing I need when Serena wakes up is to have her expending all her energy to rage at me. With a touch of hesitation, I continue: "Essentially, my blood would be preparing her body for a transformation that I am not willing to give her. No, I will not do it," Beside me, the fox scoffs in a strangely human manner.I thought you of all people would want to make her your little vampire Queen.For a second, I see red. Angrily I slam my fists down on the table, silencing them all. No. I absolutely do not want to see her become like me. I shall not live to see the day where she will become a monster, or end up like my brother, drugged on the high of sex and malicious deeds, scheming at plots in the underground of the palace. There is too much good in her, I cannot afford to ruin it. There has got to be another way.There has to be."I will not turn her," I state blandly, my voice rising with the fervent pitches of anger and bitter indignation. I bang my fist on the table once more out of rage, but the feeling barely registers within me. "Don't you understand? It would ruin her! Ruin what"I pause for a moment, letting that unholy resentment simmer within me for a moment, dying down into a lulling throb that pulses in my insides like the heart I do not have but so dearly want. My throat works with the effort of voicing the acknowledgement that I have strived so long to dismiss. "It would ruin what she is."Kal looks at me- really looks at me, as though suddenly seeing me for the first time, but is quite unsure what to make of what he sees there. Little wisps of yellow magic curl from his fingers, as he leans one hand under his chin to steady himself on the table."If you choose to give her your blood, I may have something that can help reduce its effects. Its not a full guarantee, but it will prevent her from being turned into a wild halfling.. But Soren, this might be the only option you have. So what's it going to be? Will you give her your blood? Or will you let her die?"
