Kysa stood before the inferno, his eyes drawn to its writhing heart even though it pained his eyes to look. He could hear the screams and he felt nothing. The air was redolent with the smell of burning flesh and he felt nothing. He turned away from the fire, the final whimpers of the dying echoing through the night. Beneath his feet ran rivers of blood and chaos reigned around him. He felt nothing.

Kysa's eyes snapped open, his last memory that of a river of blood. He quickly took in his surroundings: a small shack of some kind, one room, one bed, one chest of drawers; obviously belonging to a pauper. The windows were blocked up and a body lay in the centre of the room. Well, that wasn't normal. Kysa tried to stand but his head whirled and he sat back in the corner with a bump. His lips felt tacky and as he licked them clean a sharp metallic taste overcame his senses. His mind wandered back to the last thing he remembered before waking up. It couldn't be. Trembling, he raised his finger to his lip and touched. As he examined the finger, he could see the blood upon it. The blood that was in his mouth - he vomited suddenly and violently, turning onto his knees and continuing to retch until his throat was sore and his abdomen ached. Tears ran from his blue eyes, mingling with the blood that had caked around his mouth and on his chin. He passed out.

Eventually, he awoke. The horror was not as prevalent now, it had blunted though he felt it would always remain with him in some small manner. He forced himself to get up and examine the body. It was an elderly woman, her silver hair flowing over the floor, her face in a screaming death rictus, her flesh pale. A quick glance confirmed the puncture marks in her neck and finally Kysa gathered the courage to feel his teeth with his tongue. Sure enough, he possessed the elongated eye teeth that could only mark him out as a vampire. The thought terrified him, but try as he might he could not remember how he had gotten here or had become a vampire and as he tried to think back further, he realised he could remember very little at all. He knew his name, and vaguely that he had once worked as a slave for some noble or other but everything else was all smoke and mirrors. He remembered fire, and laughing, and blood. Thinking back to blood almost caused him to vomit again but he steeled himself against that - he couldn't stay in the hut for the rest of his life emptying his guts. He had to find out who he was.

He checked his appearance in a broken mirror that hung on one of the walls of the shack. He giggled to himself: turns out that vampires can be seen in mirrors after all, he thought. His face was pale, and his eyes glowed an almost unnatural blue. He wiped the dried blood off his chin as his stomach gave a small lurch. His short black hair was a mess and around his eyes were dark, as if he had not slept in many a night. Or do I sleep days, now, he wondered. A quick draw back of his lips confirmed the existence of his fangs. He was wearing a shabby black suit, a white shirt and loose black tie. His left arm was adorned with an ebony armour that ran from shoulder to hand, ending in wicked claws. It glowed strangely in what little light the hut offered and closer inspection revealed it to be covered in emerald green sigils. Where did I get this? Kysa checked his pockets, hoping there may be something there to give him answers. Instead, all he found was a locket made of the same metal as the armour on his left arm and with the same green etchings. He tried to open it but it held fast.

I have done all I can here. With that thought Kysa realised that he needed to leave the hut. In his head he made a mental list: bury the woman, wash, find someone who could identify the metal his armour and the pendant were made of. So far this was his only lead, but it was a lead nonetheless - the metal did not look usual and the sigils certainly did not. Somebody was bound to know something. As he stepped toward the entrance to the hut, he almost felt good or, if not good, at least purposeful. He thrust open the door and suddenly shrunk back against the glaring sunlight.

He fell to the floor, howling and writhing in pain, kicking at the door to close it. Eventually he connected and the door slammed shut. The remains of the mirror fell to the floor, smashing into hundreds of tiny fragments. Kysa crawled over to the bed that lay in the opposite corner from which he had awoken. Realising he had to stay indoors until night fell, he looked at the body in the centre of the room. "I don't suppose," he asked as he resorted to gallows humour, "that you know any good card games?"

Although Serdio was a nation which could be considered modern, and perhaps even cosmopolitan, these descriptions only fitted the major metropolis of Esto Gaza, and some of the larger cities, like Alexandra. Aside from that, villages and wilderness still covered a large portion of the landscape, and it was not unknown to see a rare rail-line or two running across the vast plains, with nary a soul in site. This is what made Serdio such a charming land to live in, but also a dangerous one. For outside the major urban centers, monsters lurked in the woods, caves, and valleys, and just like their ancestors in the days of old, those who lived in the villages and small towns still had to defend themselves against monster attacks. The rare few who lived secluded from all society (they still existed) were even more at risk.

Shayaateen, one time advisor to Drake Rlugia was now turned into a traveler who explored the dangerous environs of the Kingdom. Life had changed so much compared to one-hundred years before, technology and prosperity improving the lives of many. Yet the most basic dangers of disease and deadly beasts still lurked, and Shayaateen was excited to hunt them down. It surprised the high society of the capital to see who they had recognized a member of their caste abdicate his peerage, his positions in the government, and to liquidate all his assets and donate them to the Zelphis Church, making it several million Livres richer. After that, Shayaateen faded from the capital, and many assumed him dead.

But he lived on; for as a demon, Shayaateen had been cursed (or blessed, perhaps) to walk Zelpha for as long as he had purpose. Only when there was nothing morer for him to do, could he walk into the afterlife. As a being that had lived for over two millennia, he had certainly seen the world shape and change, yet some of the smallest things remained the same. Shrouded in a dark hood, the mysterious Shayaateen traveled through the a small forest the locals of the village of Rosny called Yvelines. A small house stood in a secluded clearing; it wasn't unusual for people to live in some of the more peaceful woods of the Kingdom, hunters, hermits, and others wishing to escape modern life. Approaching it, slightly, Shayaateen decided he would stop. He was tired, and a cup of tea would do him good.

He knocked twice, hard.

Kysa dragged himself onto the bed, the springs groaning in protest. From his prone position he systematically worked through the various parts of his body, checking that he could move them. Satisfied that he had managed to hang on to all his bits despite his spot of sunbathing he let out a nervous laugh, lightly chastising himself for having been so reckless.

The bed was not comfy, far from it in fact, and the old woman's corpse was beginning to smell a little but, somehow, Kysa started to drift into sleep. He mused upon the idea that something of the vampire must have become engrained in his body clock as he drifted into dreams...

"Kysa." The voice was familiar. Not paternal, but controlling nevertheless, without love or warmth but iced with thinly veiled hatred. "I will find you." At this statement Kysa found himself worked up into a frenzied state of panic. He could even hear the footsteps as the owner of the voice approached. Thud. Thud. Then nothing. Wait, Kysa thought, only two footsteps?

With that revelation, reason rushed in and flooded all notions of dreams out, and Kysa awoke, still in a dingy shack, still with a corpse in the middle of the floor. But now with someone at the door. He jumped off the bed, the springs wailing out like a dying hound, and swiftly grabbed the body, shoving it under the bed. She didn't quite fit properly and Kysa thought about bending, or folding... and then his imagination shut down.

He steeled himself as he went to the door. What if it's still daylight? What if it's the man from my dream? Why am I opening the door? Kysa swung open the door, opening himself up to fate, convinced it was the man from his dreams. That dread father. That controller. And though he would never admit it to himself, part of him grieved when he realised that it was not he at the portal, although none of him was sorry to see that it was no longer daytime, even if true night had not gripped the world yet.

"Oh." Kysa said, confusion in his voice. Why did I open the door? "Hello." An invitation to come in framed on his lips until he thought of the corpse under the bed. That and it was terribly bad manners to invite someone in to another's house. Worse manners than killing your host? Instead, Kysa asked, "can i help you?"

Shayaateen noted mentally that forest hovels were not always the best place to seek hospitality. It might have been better to continue on through the woods rather than stop now--especially with night approaching ever more quickly. But it truly didn't matter, he seldom had problems in his travels, even while traveling on roads in the dark of night. Surveying the man before him carefully, Shayaateen could not figure out what he was. A Hunter? He was far too disheveled for that, and too easily stirred. If anything, he was just a possible outlaw who had slipped under the radar to avoid persecution or detection by the ever strengthening authority of the crown. Shayaateen didn't care, and would not disturb the man any longer than needed; he simply desired a short despite.

"Ah, I apologize for disturbing you... I was simply wondering if I could perhaps bother you for a cup of tea. I have been on the road for a very long time, you see, and a cup of tea will do me good. I promise not to bother you too long."

Shayaateen, with the demon blood that ran deep in his veins, possessed certain unnatural powers that eclipsed even those with magic. They required no chanting, charms, or anything of sort, but rather unnatural abilities that demons possessed. Shayaateen knew the smell of death all too well, and knew when the reaper was near, or had recently visited. The fact this shack was in such poor shape didn't surprise the traveler, and it all made perfect sense. Someone had died recently, and judging by the shape of the shack, it was not a peaceful death, and the reaper had been summoned quite unwillingly to take a soul away to the unnatural plane. With a pleasant smile upon his face, Shayaateen dispelled these thoughts.

"So, that tea. Shall we?"

Another smile etched the face the mysterious traveler, peering past the man in front of him and deeper into the shack. Such a pity violence had visited what seemed like a peaceful forest clearing.

"I knew I wasn't seeing things when I descended into the valley. The mist runs thick here, doesn't it? Do you often have problems with monsters? I would imagine so...these hovels do not have the luxury of the city gendarmes. What a pity... monsters have not been such a problem for many years. I fear the worst. But oh, a man often rambles when he knows not what exactly to say. Shayaateen. And yourself?"

Kysa watched the newcomer confusedly as he rambled. A million ideas ran through his head to explain his current situation, but not one of them seemed viable.

Then, he began to evaluate his position. He was not in a good one, no, but he had two choices. The newcomer had referred to monsters in the mist - he could blame the old lady's death on them. Two things prevented him from voicing this lie. The first was the fact that he would have to explain why he hid the corpse under the bed, and why no signs of attack were reflected on the forest retreat. The second was his blasted conscience.

This man was a traveller, he said himself he had been on the road for some time. What did it matter if he disappeared from day to day life? Kysa shuddered at the thought of shuffling this one off the mortal plane, but at the same time there was no viable way he could hide the position he was in.

After looking deep into the stranger's eyes he sighed deeply and opened the door fully, allowing the bed, and the arm sticking out from beneath to be seen by the eye. He looked despairingly at the arm and back to the stranger. "I think... I think that I did that. But I don't know. I-I-I don't know... anything. Who I am, what I am. Please. Help me."

Kysa knew not why he had sought the help of this stranger in truth, but the words had been spoken now, and they hung there, big and pink in the air while Kysa held his breath. At the same time he realised he had no idea if there was any tea in stock.

"Hm."

Shayaateen examined the scene more fully when the door was swung open. His eyes immediately darted to the arm sticking under the bed, and the shack as a whole. It seemed that some destructive force had visited, and the fact that this man believed himself capable of creating such chaos was not something that could be brushed aside. Shayaateen gave the shack another look around, before returning to look at the man. He smiled, seemingly unphased by the entire scene.

"Well...let us have something to drink. Although...perhaps something harder than tea is in order. If you'll excuse me."

Shayaateen made his way into the shack, brushing past the stranger as he examined the wreck of the entire scene. Peering more intently, he found a shelf that had been dismantled from the wall and tossed to the ground with excessive force. Pushing the shelf door ajar, Shayaateen noted a variety of broken bottle and liquids, aside form a few that seemed untouched by such force. Grabbing one such bottle, he opened and smelled it slightly.

"Elven mead. You don't often find these anyone...whoever you killed, you can't deny, they had taste."

He tasted the alcohol, allowing the bittersweet taste to rest upon his tongue before swallowing. Now that he had his needed subsistence, he could focus more clearly on the situation. A destroyed hut, one person dead, and a survivor...who claimed to be the cause of the entire mess. Shayaateen sighed furiously, it was a matter that would require much thought.

"You should be lucky that I am not the local magistrate or something worse. These are difficult times, and very few look out for anyone but themselves. A sad fact, but true, and you would do well to learn that now, rather than later. You 're lucky that I've come along; I have everything I need, so you can be rest assured I'm not going to help you, just to sell you down the river later. So...you don't know anything. Memory gone? Nothing at all. Except you might have done this. Why do you think so? Are you sure you haven't just been framed?"

Kysa half opened his mouth, wincing his eyes in confusion. The stranger had just walked in, calmy collected the scene and started drinking.

Kysa internalised the comment about trusting others. He can't have said why, but there was some... connection with this man. Whether it was his familiarity with death and the connotations that went with it or whether it was the fact that a man who had just commented on the danger of trusting strangers had himself knocked on the door of a stranger, Kysa couldn't decide.

There was nothing that could be done now, though, except deal with the situation as it was. "Please, help yourself," Kysa chuckled to himself, "but, no. I'm fairly sure it was me. That, or someone came in here, drained the corpse, and smeared the blood all over my face." Kysa pulled back his top lip to show his fangs, his eyes now serious. In for a copper in for a gold, he thought.

Kysa reached for the mead, swilling the liquid round and spitting it out to get rid of any last remnant of blood before drinking heartily. After a long draught he looked at the stranger. He seemed to be a man with endless patience. "No memory either. Not much information to give you, I'm afraid. I know who I am though - Kysa Eldersy: vampire, murderer and all round resident raconteur." Another swig. This mead was not fulfilling his body the way his mind expected it to. He still felt thirsty. But for now, he expelled that thought, already glimpsing what it's end might be.

"And who might you be, oh stranger that walks so willingly into this house of chaos and drinks deep from its spoils?" As he spoke, he went to lean back onto the bed in a nonchalant lounge, but as he remembered the corpse he stopped mid-way, twisted and spun himself into a heap on the ground. From there he grinned boyishly and extended a hand.

"It all makes perfect sense then, the destruction, the death, and the blood. A vampire.. yes, I suppose that would make you as one, given the fangs and all. So we have a situation of murder on our hands. Well... vampires do have to feed, just as people have to eat. In my eyes, you have committed no crime other than being unable to control your instincts. Over time you'll learn to control these urges... it's obvious you're new to this whole business of being a vampire. There are many vampires who lead normal lives, at least as normal as can be. Feeding on cattle, chickens, or any other animal rather than people. I'm no vampire...but I've met many in my life that can attest that the blood of a goat tastes exactly the same as the blood of a countess. Most strange, however, is the fact you have lost your memory in this whole ordeal... perhaps you will remember in due time; it isn't uncommon for people to undo such a traumatizing experience that they forget everything."

Shayaateen felt a deep pity for this Kysa; vampires were a lonely people, robbed of a normal existence for all eternity, to roam the world in search of something they would never find. Those not killed by vampires became a vampire themselves, Shayaateen knew this all too well. Whoever had done this to Kysa had their reasons for doing so...but it rather was unlike the race as a whole to simply feed and leave the new vampire on his own. Vampire Clans certainly existed, their own sophisticated form of government that operated independently of everything else, these packs varied, some being communal, some being run by a single strong man, and so on. The clans were divided even more by culture and even race, so much that one could assume millions of said clans existed in the whole of Zelpha, varying in their activity. However, there were also rogue vampires who roamed by themselves; these were the loneliest of vampires, the ones to be most pitied. Kysa had been unfortunately thrust into such a position.

"You are a quagmire...there is no mark, no nothing, to identity who might have bit you. Of course we would never be able to know for sure, but anything, to lead to any clan...there's nothing. This is a terrible life for you to lead. Perhaps they did not mean to mark you as one of their own..but to simply feast upon you, and kill you. Only they left enough life force for you to struggle on, to awaken...as what you are now. For although some vampires have desired only to assimilate into the world, there are others who continue to seek out violence, and the flesh of people."

Shayaateen could only frown slightly, when Kysa asked of who he was.

"I am Shayaateen, as I have told you before. There isn't anything you really need to know, I'm simply on the road, seeking out some truth in answers I have heard. I've been at it for many months now, but it is not the first time... I am keen at living amongst the mortals, but it is something I often tire of, and thus must take respite, in the roads, valleys, forests, and caves. But what is important, is getting you away from here. Cleaning you up, and setting you on a proper path. I'm afraid I can't help you anymore than that...I don't have any of the answers you seek. There are a variety of places where you could go, but wandering aimlessly won't accomplish anything. It's also dangerous to roam in these parts, you are a Shiitan, used by many races, the Humans in particular, as slaves. Perhaps you might go to Esto Gaza, capital of Serdio and the Sade confederacy. It is a sprawling metropolis, home to a million or more souls; many Shiiitan roam the streets as freedmen, and you will be able to join them. There are always stories and news roaming about the pubs, maybe something will jar your memory? I will take you that far, and provide you with what you need. I was once a resident of that city. What do you say?"

Kysa stood up off the ground, brushing the debris off his trousers as he did so. He had hoped for some sort of story from the stranger, something to take his mind off his troubles he supposed, but the information Kysa did glean from the short exchange he filed away for later use - Shayateen's reference to "mortals", his search for truth in answers. Kysa's memory also stirred at something in Shayateen's description of Shiitan slaves, but nothing tangible he could latch onto.

"I did always like steak," Kysa said as he thought of being reduced to seeking out livestock to feed, to hide away from the public what he was, how he lived. "At least, I think I did. As for leads, Shayateen, we do have something." Kysa put his hand into his pocket and pulled out the locket, tossing it to Shayateen. "It doesn't open - I've been trying for a while now. The only thing I can think of is some sort of magic keeping it sealed. But check out the design on it." Kysa raised his left arm so that his armour caught what little light remained in the hut, the green sigils still visible. "I'm thinking that if we find who made this armour, we start finding some answers," Kysa grinned at Shayateen, "and seeing as I seem to have piqued your interest enough to aid me, I would be honoured if you would be my guide." Although the smile did not leave his lips, Kysa spoke these words with sincerity.

He flitted to serious again suddenly as his mind turned to more immediate, darker, matters. "But first I have to do two things. Give my... victim a proper send off, and get washed up." Secretly, though, Kysa knew that a third thing was beginning to slowly pound at his mind - the bloodlust. After speaking, Kysa shifted the body from under the bed, tossed it gingerly over his shoulder and left the hut for the first time since he could remember.

Shayaateen caught the lock tossed by Kysa, examining it with a hard glare. For all his misfortunes, it did seem quite strange that he possessed a locket, inlaid with a strange green that matched the vigils of the Shittans armor. The metal was especially well-made, and Shayaateen was certain he had seen it used in many weapons and armors in his travels....yet with so many arms manufacturers in the world these days, it was impossible to determine where it might have came from.The green vigils, both on the armor, and the lock, were important. Shayaateen noted it mentally.

"The green vigils are most likely a seal; it's not going to open unless something specific is done. Unfortunately, there are many kinds of magics for producing seals and it'd take eons to find out anything substantial.Their shimmer does remind me of one thing, the Peridot Scepter of the Serdian Royal family...perhaps it is a similar material! All the more reason to continue on to Esto Gaza."

He smiled as Kysa began to drag the body out of the hut to give it a proper burial. Even if he had morphed into a vampire, he still had some traits that the good in humanity possessed.

"I shall wait for you at the right bend of the clearing. Come to me when you are finished. We need to move quickly. Although it will soon to be dark, we certainly can't travel during the day...given your condition."

Kysa was mindful of Shayateen's words. He too vividly remembered being caught unawares by the sunlight to allow the same to happen to him again.

A short distance from the hut, Kysa stumbled over a root and almost dropped the body. True night had started to take its hold, and it was becoming difficult to see...

Suddenly, Kysa was stood in a stone room. He leant against the frame of a sturdy wooden door that provided the only passage in and out. In the centre of the room stood a female figure, repairing a set of shackles that was attached to the ceiling. The floor was set in a bowl shape with the bottom of the depression at the centre of the room, marked with a small grate. Dark stains marred the metal of the grate. "You see, young one," said the figure, "the night is not a time of mortals. It is a time for those who possess the gift. So it has been since time immemorial. Humans fear the darkness, and we are the reason for that fear." Although she appeared to be younger in years than he, Kysa somehow knew that her years numbered the hundreds. "Darkness is a human weakness, a vampire strength. You would do well to remember that, young one."

Kysa opened his eyes to a new world. No longer did darkness cloud his vision, but he could see all around him as if some invisible sun lit the world. Amazed at this vision, Kysa at first cowered, fearing that the sun had risen during his flashback, but no. He was safe. Where was that? Who was she? Why could I not see in the dark before? Do newborn vampires gain their gifts slowly, or is something else affecting my power? I should talk to Shayateen. Then Kysa remembered Shayateen was waiting. Quickly, he dug into the soil with his own hands - the work was not back breaking for one of his kind, and no sweat fell from his forehead. When he was finished, he laid a small stone at the head of the grave on which he inscribed one word with a claw from his armour - sorry. Kysa strolled further from the hut and came upon a small lake, barely worthy of the name, more a puddle in truth, but enough for him. He undressed, taking particular care as he unstrapped his armour, and began to wash. Witnessing his naked body for the first time he found himself covered in small scars. More questions. But questions were for later. As fast as he could, Kysa finished washing, dressed, and ran to meet Shayateen, his own speed surprising him, alert in the darkness.

Upon reaching the bend, he waved to Shayateen to show it was a friendly figure that emerged from the shadows. Again, Kysa noted that the man seemed to have infinite patience and he found that he was glad it had been he who had found Kysa in his sorry state. "Hail," Kysa called and, as he approached closer, "shall we?"

"Yes, let us. I figure if we travel quickly we will be able to reach Esto Gaza in due time, a couple days at most. Most importantly, however, is getting out of this valley. Every minute is precious, and we can't waste time fighting monsters. Monsters linger only where the mist does...once we're out of this valley, we should be out of the clear. Unfortunately, we must take a rather unorthodox route. We cannot simply go through the village of Rosny as I came. Travel is very restricted these days in the provinces, no doubt the village watch would want to see our passports, which... is something you do not possess. As a Shii, the problem would only be exacerbated."

Pulling his cloak tighter around his person and pulling the hood up, Shayaateen began to walk down the dirt path that indicated exit out of the small clearing and the general forest, which wasn't very big compared to some of greater forests in Serdio. Once they were out on the open road, things would no doubt be easier. Walking at a brisk pace, Shayaateen then proceeded to tell the rest of his plan.

"So instead, we shall travel south-west, avoiding the village. There won't be any roads, and it will be dangerous, but we can rely on general direction. South-west of here lay the southern boundaries of this valley, the small mountain range of Ornel. We shall cross through the paths of Ornel. After that, Esto Gaza is but a short jaunt."

At this, Shayaateen grinned.

"However, it isn't as easy as it sounds. We will be traveling through the mist until we clear through the Ornel Mountain Path. A such, monsters and dangerous beasts are to be expected... the mist is especially thick at Ornel recently, when ages ago there was none. I fear we might encounter something ferocious in the mountains.. I am not talking petty beasts, but something greater. Perhaps Giants, or something worse... so, if you wish to back out now, I would understand. But given our present situation, this will be your only way to the capital. You look tough, so I have no doubts in ability to fight and defend yourself. Has any memory been jarred? Are you familiar with any weaponry? Can you use magic?"

Kysa listened intently whilst Shayateen discussed his intentions as to their route. The plan sounded good enough, although Kysa knew too little of the surrounding lands to establish whether there was any merit to it. He would have to trust Shayateen.

At the mention of combat skills, Kysa thought hard about what, if anything, he could remember. The only mist that concerned him were the ones that clouded his memory. If only the pounding in his head would stop - it had been resounding since he had gained his night vision and during that short time had alternated between many high paced drum beats in the forest to what it was now, a single, steady beat. Beat. When he realised he could not help but gawp at Shayateen, allowing him to get ahead for a second, before remembering himself and jogging to catch up. I can sense the beating life force of organisms. This must be how our kind hunt. He realised that back in the forest, the high paced clamour of life force must have been small rodents and the such like scampering out of the way of his intrusion.

Staring at Shayateen as he walked, Kysa realised that he could track the flow of his life force. Shayateen's life force was strong, and showed no sign of dwindling, but it was also warped slightly, as if a death had wrenched it and a subsequent resurrection had inexpertly healed it at some point. Kysa noted that it did not feel mortal, and had no idea how he knew what mortal life force felt like. As he thought upon that he turned to his own life force. If I can feel it, can I control it?

Kysa had now not spoken for some time, and he stopped suddenly on the path. Concentrating, he first brought the pounding in his brain to an acceptable background level - more an extra sense than an unwelcome visitor in his mind. Turning back to thoughts of combat, Kysa willed his life force to his hand, and as he did so he thrust down his fist. A slight blue glow emanated from the skin of his hand as he did so, and his punch left a clear indent upon the stone. He looked up at Shayateen, smiling. "I will not turn back, cannot... and it would seem I don't need any weaponry. I should be able to aid you if and when the time comes."

As the pair continued on their way, Kysa's smile faded. Being able to sense the life force of other beings had brought his hunger to the fore, and he was starting to feel faint. He would have to feed soon; he had no idea when he had fed before the old woman, and he thrown up any nutrition he had gotten from her. Even know, his stomach quelled at the memory. Kysa decided to keep his mind off such matters until he could sense an animal nearby to feed from and he had built up the courage to actually feed without being sick, although he though it odd (but was thankful) that he had no desire to feed from Shayateen.

To keep his mind from his hunger, Kysa decided to question Shayateen. "Shayateen, what do you know of vampiric lore? I know or can only remember snatches of the old tales, like their... our aversion to mirrors, which I now know is untrue, and that we appear to be able to see in the dark. Do you know much of how a vampire's powers develop? Or... vampire groups?" Specifically, vampire groups that possess some form of torture dungeon, he thought but did not speak out loud.

"The myth of the Shii are true...I knew they possessed a remarkable a physical prowess, but I did not know to this extent!"

Shayaateen noted only slightly Kysa's periodic stops. No doubt he was deep in thought. About what, Shayaateen could not be sure, nor did he want to press the issue any further. His only goal was to navigate Kysa as safely as possible to Esto Gaza, and then be back on his way. Shayaateen was not sure why he had even chosen to aid him; perhaps it was simply because he reminded him of a certain person he had lost contact with so long ago.

It was Shayaateen's own reverie which made the trek on the road even more silent. It was only until Kysa began to speak that Shayaateen shook his head furiously, listening to the vampire as they trudged along. There were a variety of questions, some which Shayaateen frowned at. He would not be able to answer all of the queries presented to him. His knowledge of vampires were limited only to his own studies and his interactions with them.

"Ah...yes. The vampires are indeed a very mysterious people, and there are a variety of researchers and so-called experts, all with their own ideas. Of course, there are many recognized facts, wrapped up in myths, some are untrue, like you mention. Vampires can see their reflection..they also have no aversion to garlic. I knew a very pudgy vampire who enjoyed to gorge himself on garlic foodstuffs. Religious relics, likewise, will not ward away vampires.

I am unsure how a vampire's abilities develop... that is something that is probably dependent on a variety of factors. Some vampires are no doubt more advanced in their abilities than others. I'm sorry I'm not of much help.

Groups... yes, vampires are often believed to be a very isolated people. While this is true, some have taken to living in packs, or clans. It is impossible to know how many clans exist...they exist all over the world, divided based upon culture, race, even gender and personality types. Some packs are very communal and work together. Others serve under a strongman, or woman, and are quite authoritarian and hierarchical. Some groups are based on freedom, others oppression. Like I said earlier, it is strange that you were feasted upon and left to fend for yourself. This is what leads me to believe that whoever did this to you intended to kill you, not to turn you into one of them.. vampires, even the most isolated of cases, at least help along their spawn for a short time before leaving them be. Of course, this is only based on what I know... perhaps they did intend to make you a vampire and leave you to figure it out all on your own. A joke?

But there are a variety of vampire packs, too many to even begin to name. There are probably many active across the whole of Serdio, although I know of three that are active in Esto Gaza, the capital. Names and details are fuzzy, but I know a clan composed of the vampiric aristocracy of Serdio, one that is much more shady, and one that I know only through passing rumors, and nothing more. Even names are lost on me, as I am no vampire. But I am sure something will have to jar your mind, if not your heart in the capital. I am sure of it!"

Kysa noticed Shayateen's frown as he voiced his query and wondered at whether he had pushed his mystery helper's patience to the limit. He realised that his somewhat jocular persona may not present how grateful he truly was.

Still, Shayateen's answer was not insubstantial and Kysa nodded as he spoke, stifling a chuckle at the tale of the pudgy vampire. Unfortunately, no answer was provided as to the progression of his unique abilities, but the talk of vampire groups stirred something in his mind. Again, it was nothing tangible but perhaps Shayateen was right - he would have to wait until reaching the capital to answer his question.

"That is very interesting. Thank you, and thank you again for aiding me. I understand there is no gain in this for you, but I shall make sure you are adequately compensated in some form or other when I have my answers. I mean, I may even be a millionaire!" Kysa looked down at his worn suit, "although i doubt it, I'm afraid."

Kysa walked in silence for some time after this. Thinking and speaking had made his head throb again and he finally decided that he had to replenish his health one way or another. Still walking, he extended his new sense to try to find a life force suitable for feeding. After a short while, he sense a life force that seemed calm but strong, perfect for feeding so his instincts told him, and not far away if he guessed correctly.

He steeled himself for what he was to do. "Do you mind if we rest here a short spell?"

"No, no need to thank me, it is my pleasure. It's awful to see what has happened to you, deprived of all memory and ideas. Where and what you are...knowing only your name. It is a terrible fate, and while I can only help you in these little ways, I'm sure it will pay off in the end. One can't remind blinded of their past forever...sooner or later the veil of fog must be lifted over the memories that exist in one's head. It's only natural."

Shayaateen laughed slightly at the mention that he might be rich or famous. It seemed unlikely, but still, no one knew. He had just awoken in that pitiful shack with no memory of anything before that. Honestly, anything was possible, and Shayaateen nodded.

"You do not need to repay me... I am simply doing you a favor of my own goodwill. Nothing more and nothing less. I never expected to profit from helping you, so please, forget all ideas of paying me back. It's nothing, honestly."

At Kysa's mention of stopping, Shayaateen nodded.

"Yes, but we can't sit for too long. Monsters sense the idle and pray upon them."

Kysa smiled as Shayateen played down his role in helping him. He would find a way to pay him back, he knew.

Now to find some sustenance. Kysa wandered off the path into the forest, leaving Shayateen behind - this was something he had to do alone. Maneuvering swiftly through the undergrowth, mindful of the warning about monsters, he tracked the life force until he could hear its heart beat. From behind a tree, Kysa peered out and saw a creature in the clearing. It appeared to be some form of livestock - none that Kysa could remember having seen before. Remember - ha!

It was not facing him so Kysa approached it from behind, blending silently in with the background as he tracked, without even knowing he was doing it. His aim was to stab the creature with his claw where the force flowed strongest - he could sense that was in its neck - as he did not yet feel he could bite another living creature. Lost in a sea of emotion that flicked between excitement at feeding, self loathing for the kill he was about to make, and a depression that his life would always be like this, he did not notice the dry twig on the ground. Stepping on it, a loud snap echoed through the forest.

The creature turned, its eyes goggling out of its head. That is not pretty. Kysa tentatively took another step forward, but the creature did not move - its eyes still vacant, haunted. It was only as Kysa went to puncture the neck did he notice the smell. He looked again at its eyes. This creature was dead. But... I can sense a life force. If it's not coming from the creature then where-

Kysa's musing was cut off by the horrific sound of tearing. The creature's back split open as if it were no more than cloth and something crawled out of its back. It was about half the size of the creature, covered in its blood and juices. A collection of black beady eyes on its long, thin yellow head sat above a large maw full of rows of teeth. It stepped out of the creature, each of its four spindly legs clawing out one by one - it looked emaciated and smelled terrible. Kysa could only watch, dumbfounded, until it let out a ear-splitting shriek and clawed a talon at Kysa. He ducked, suddenly, spinning as he did so behind the creature, lashing out with his clawed hand to strike the beast's leg. He drew blood. The creature screamed. It was fast and it turned to face Kysa, snapping its jaws at him, narrowly missing each time. A punch to its face sent the creature flying into a nearby tree trunk, but it got straight up and charged. Kysa concentrated his life force to his feet and jumped high as the creature reached him, its claws scrabbling on the ground as it sought to find the location of its prey. Kysa stood on a branch above it, planning his next move, trying to remember fighting styles. Now the heat of battle had passed somewhat, instinct no longer guided him. He looked down at the abomination and it looked back at him, furious. Just when he thought he knew what he was going to do it released a jet of venom from its mouth, that burnt its way up the tree to Kysa's branch. It did not cause him to fall, but it was enough to shake him. Great. Now what?

Shayaateen had been standing alone for nearly five minutes, and he couldn't help but wonder what was keeping Kysa. It didn't take this long to feed on mere cattle. It was at this that Shayaateen's senses peaked; as an Abashi*, Shayaateen was able to sense bloodshed and the feelings that accompanied violence. Was Kysa under attack? Shaking these thoughts from his head, Shayaateen rampaged into woods, ignoring all other thoughts, focusing on that sense fighting, that rapid beating that panged within him, guiding him to the scene where chaos was breaking loose. Where he knew Kysa would be.

And Shayaateen was right as he finally came upon of the scene of a very particularly ugly monster, screaming in rage at Kysa, while the vampire was up in a tree. Shayaateen shook his head slightly, but said nothing, withdrawing from his robes his wooden staff. He would need to distract the monster from Kysa and there was no better way than taunting.

"Hey! Why don't you play with someone who is actually up for it, you logger head?"

Pushing out his staff, Shayaateen prepared to fight. Nothing would fix this better than a little magic.

"Star fire, awake and deliver your judgement! Firaga!"

Mumbling his chant only for a moment, Shayaateen waved his staff at the beast, watching as a spray of fire erupted from it, flinging it's self directly at the howling beast. Shayaateen braced himself for the next.

"Well, Kysa, you would be more useful to me down here!"

*Created by Maou, the God of Darkness, the Abashi are a race of demon known for their love of war: it is their mysterious secretions that are rumored to drive other races wild, creating jealousy, hatred, and in the end, war.

Kysa's face reddened as Shayateen burst into the clearing, shame building up in him for not being able to handle the beast. He closed his eyes tightly, casting out all other thoughts. He barely heard the eruption of flame. He had to remember.

"Every body has a flow of life within it. Some call it Chakra, some Chi, others life force. Whatever you call it, it exists, and it with intense self discipline, one can control one's life force, for devastating effect."

Kysa was in a large stately home, waiting on for a group of what appeared to be the upper echelons of human society. They made a point of ignoring him and as he passed his master he was almost tripped up - not a mistake but a message that he was not serving fast enough. He was trying but what the lecturer saying made so much sense. As a Shiitan, Kysa was already fast, and excelled at hand to hand combat. Training for such combat took up what little spare time he had, as he was not to leave the home without his master's permission and training could be done anywhere.

Suddenly it was the middle of the night and everyone had gone home. Kysa has washed up and now sat in his dingy basement room, concentrating on the flow of his life force. He pushed it to his hand, sweat beading on his forehead, and punched into the hard rock wall. It cracked under his hand, and no damage had been done to his fingers. He smiled.

Now it was years later. His master's house had been broken into. There was a lot of noise coming from upstairs, and as Kysa ventured out of the basement, squinting in the light, he saw a group of vampires smashing the property and his master, dead, in the middle of the floor, drained of all his blood. The vampires laughed in their revelrie, until one noticed him and they attacked. Kysa screamed, using all of his training to floor two of the creatures before one lashed out a fist, sending him flying through the basement door and down the stone steps. He hit his head at the bottom and passed out.

"Well, Kysa, you would be more useful to me down here!"

Kysa opened his eyes. Immediately he jumped down from the branch, landing squarely on the creature's back, it's legs buckling from underneath, as he propelled himself up again, spinning in the air to face his opponent. It hissed out its poison at him and he ducked, running low under the jet and issuing an uppercut to creature's jaw, a disheartening crunch resounding as its bone broke. Spinning into a high kick brought his foot into contact with the beast's torso, forcing it low.

As he stepped back, he called to Shayateen. "Apologies for my lapse. Shall we end this?"

"Indeed. If you will allow me the honors?"

Staring at the ugly creature, Shayaateen prepped his staff once more and began yet another chant.

"Dissolve into a fiery world of chaos... Melt!"

Spraying from his staff this time was a pale green liquid, almost acidic. Flung unto the beast much like the spraying flame, Shayaateen watched with a mild interest as the liquid ate away at the beasts outer core, Shayaateen saw that the acid ate away at the beast until there was nothing left but a muffled corpse. The screaming beast that had existed before was dead, there remaining only a limp corpse covered in that liquid, it's exterior eaten away and it's innards exposed to the harsh wind of the night. Shayaateen looked at the mess for a minute before turning his head slightly.

"It was...an interceptor? I remember seeing these things as almost common place nearly a century ago, roaming the landscape...but I haven't seen one in centuries. It's rumored that they died out in the reign of Graith. If they have returned...this isn't good news. Are you alright? I'm sorry. I shouldn't of let you wander out by yourself. Not because you aren't capable. But because it's so dangerous out in these parts. Let's try to stay together from now on, hm?"

"Apologies for having to drag you into this situation, but thank you for coming so swiftly." Kysa nodded distractedly at Shayateen's suggestion that they stay together, staring at the interceptor.

The body of the beast was revolting to look at and covered in the acid from Shayateen's staff - there was nothing for Kysa to feed on and now that the adrenaline of battle and remembered events had passed, Kysa's head swam with new questions and a lack of sustenance. His legs almost buckled from beneath him as he contemplated from where he could feed. He eventually realised there was no other option as he turned to look at the body of the cattle from which he originally intended to draw blood. Its back was torn open, and its internal organs were now altogether... external organs. However, certain parts seemed untouched by the blight of the interceptor, most notably the head and neck. Kysa vaguely remembered rumours that dead blood could sicken a vampire, or even kill one, but he imagined that if the interceptor had lived inside the creature, then it must have been keeping it alive to feed off so the blood should not be long dead.

Ignoring Shayateen now, desperate only for rejuvenation, Kysa dashed to the corpse of the creature, falling to his knees as he cut a small hole in it's neck with his claw. He immediately started sucking blood out of the hole, which turned out to be a sloppy and inefficient way to feed, with blood dripping down his chin. Kysa realised he would have to bite in to the creature and as he did so, he learnt that his fangs were hollowed so that blood could be sucked directly through them into his body. As he fed he felt his strength return and all else was blacked out in the pleasure of feeding, until there was nothing left to drink. He leaned back on his knees, breathing deeply, the euphoria over and his mind active again. Don't throw up. Please, please, please don't throw up. It's just food. Just beef. Just food. Don't throw up. Images of the dead woman from the shack flashed through his brain but Kysa pushed them out. He now felt stronger, better. He rose and turned to Shayateen, attempting to wipe the blood from his chin in a covert and polite manner.

"I'm, er... sorry you had to see that, but I don't know what came over me. There was such a draw, a need. I hope you can understand, or at least sympathise as a non-mortal yourself." If that isn't a statement with a questioning hook in it, I don't know what is. "So, with our - ahem - necessities out of the way, shall we continue? I think I will let you go first. After seeing what can come out of the end of that staff, I am not sure I want it behind me! As we walk, perhaps you could teach me a little - why are there monsters in the mist, and why do you posit would abominations such as that interceptor be returning? Are there possible larger issues afoot I should be concerned with?"

"It's fine. If I promised to take you to the capital, it would be very rude of me not to help you when the monsters come."

Shayaateen watched only with a mild interest as conversation with Kysa ended and the vampire turned to the corpse of some farm animal to feed upon. Shayaateen had seen such an act many times in his life, it was disgusting, perhaps, but nothing out of the ordinary and nothing that the traveler hadn't seen before. He turned his head away only slightly, out of respect for Kysa as he continued to feed. Only when he was finished did Shayaateen again look at the Shiitan, ignoring as he wiped the blood of his faith.

"Don't worry about it," Shayaateen replied with a sly smile. "It's something you have to do, and I understand. A little disgusting, but certainly not strange, but any stretch of the imagination."

He chuckled at continuing their trek south, mostly due to Kysa's comment about his professed magical abilities.

"Of course. Anything you wish to know about our world, I shall teach you. I have lived for a good many years.. I have seen the rise and fall of great civilizations, the changing tides that accompany every event. I have been present at many great things in the history of this world... but I digress.

The mist. It is one of the foulest things to inhabit this world. It lurks in the valleys, forests, and caves, spawning monsters. Yet it is not just that... it is a toxin. It poisons the mind, and the body. A slow process, but one that renders great bodies, and great minds, to mere mush. It's unknown why exactly the mist propagates all over the world, only that it begins in Mistia, an island south of Vulcan. From that isle, completely shrouded in this deadly toxin, it crosses over through the Ocean of Mist, and to the rest of Zelpha. It flows all over, but will only settle in certain areas. Low valleys, caves, and so forth. Yet... where desolation occurs, the mist can also come to settle. It is not unknown to find mist flowing in abandoned keeps and palaces, places where civilization once flourished, but is gone. For the bane of the mist is the existence of humanity: I am not speaking not just of humans, but of all races. Where people gather, and urbanize, the mist seems to fade. The greatest scholars are puzzled by this phenomenon, but no town, with living inhabitants, is subject to the mist, and it's perils. Outside it's walls, yes, but never within. Does that make sense?

As for extinct beasts returning... it is unknown. Perhaps a species of monster cannot go extinct, and what the mist desires to create, it will. But... it is a sign of imbalance. The yin and yang of the world are only in harmony for so long, creating peace. Slowly, but surely, darkness crawls back, seeking to dominate and consume. The last great time this happened was nearly twenty years ago. Before your time perhaps.. the Dark Lord Mortikan, reigning from the North...and an abomination in the south, in Vulcan, known as Sorthania. These evils were vanquished. Of courses, politics will always wage war, but that is not...evil, as I know it, in a sense. If Interceptors are returning, then perhaps it is a way of the planet warning us. That darkness is creeping back. If this is true... I fear great destruction and loss of life. But I tend to ramble. Please, do not take everything I say literally. I may be a creature who's lifespan knows no bounds...but I make mistakes like the rest. And I am hardly all knowing. These are merely my musings on what I have seen in my long life."

"Mist..." Kysa looked at Shayateen thoughtfully, he had stayed quiet out of respect as he listened to the story. "It's almost as if the Mist itself is a living thing, swirling atoms that can be put together in any way the Mist sees fit." He sighed. "There is so much about this world I can remember, but none of it seems to be of any import. I know how to walk, how to talk, the names of things, but I lack any knowledge of the way the world works. I know the what, just not the how." Kysa felt ready to go on, his strength returned, and his mind pondered darker matters that his own hidden past. "It seems I have a lot to learn, friend."

With that Kysa stretched out slowly and began the walk away from the clearing, and the scene of so much devastation. "I guess we had better head on and stick to the main roads. Now that I have seen what we are up against, I will no longer tarry."

He continued to walk, leaving Shayateen behind. Kysa turned around, curious as to why Shayateen had not moved. "I've gone the wrong way haven't I." Without waiting for a response, Kysa strode back to Shayateen's side. "Laugh and I'll bite your neck," Kysa said jokingly.

"Indeed, you do," Shayaateen replied with a smile. "But I am confident things will return to you sooner or later. There is a lot about Zelpha that not even I know...some things are a mystery, even to beings such as myself."

An exit from the cleaning unto the open plains was a welcome relief to Shayaateen. As long as they kept a good pace, Shayaateen had no doubt they would reach Ornel in due time. As long as they were brisk and did not remain idle, there would be few, if any problems with monsters, even if they were going to be forced to trek off the main roads, into the old paths created in days old, that were seldom used. At Kysa's lack of direction and subsequent joking, the demon could only stiffle a chuckle.

"Much to learn..I'm afraid you are right!"

Looking at the two paths, Shayaateen nodded.

"We'll need to head south, off this beaten road. The road in the east will take us to the village of Rosny...while it would be easier to travel through Rosny and then head south for the capital, it isn't possible. Travel in the provinces has been severely restricted since the Restoration; passports are required for inter-provincial travel, and at such a late night, I have no doubt that the village watch would demand to see our passports. I have one, of course, but you do not...thus we must be forced to go through Ornel and to the capital. Esto Gaza is so large, so expansive, we should be able to slip in with great ease. Once there, we'll get cleaned up and properly set on your way."

Beginning the long journey down the southern path, Shayaateen motioned for the vampire.

"If we move quickly, we may be able to clear the path and reach the capital by sunrise. Time is of the essence, for there are no settlements between here in the capital. So, there is no choice but to reach Esto Gaza by dawn. I doubt you want to bake in the sun, after all!"