Change is sweeping through the world, as humanity fights for autonomy, discord tears apart the foundations of the vampire order, and dhampirs return to the world after centuries of war between two powerful peoples. Dhampirs, creatures known to heral...
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The edges of the Fleur territory breathed life into Asmodeus as he stepped on the grasses of the plains at the base of the mountain. This was home, and while anything was preferable to the dank Sol dungeons, there was nothing like the scent of thick pines and the rush of the downhill winds in the early evening. The breeze was so cool from the peaks, filled with moisture and life, unlike the dry scathing sands, and the pressure lessened as he ascended, making his body feel light.
It took only moments before a spell formed at the precipice, light magic, and Asmodeus recognized Lucas Fern as he formed up from the transportation spell. The family was a smaller offshoot of mages that had come to being between the Copse and the Charge territories, but they'd been societally bred for generations now. Lucas sported dark, dirt hair that he tied tightly behind his head in a stiff braid to his shoulders, and dark sienna eyes that were far too serious and lacking in patience.
But he was a familiar face at least.
Lucas was Lorenzo's private advisor on mage affairs and happenings, and had been for most of his adult life. That left him little wiggle room for frivolities and social gestures as he put it, but he was loyal if nothing else. The wind blew his white mage attire, and Asmodeus tucked his crappy cloak closer to his body. The Sol's had stripped him of his mangled clothes and dressed him in paltry shift, making him eager to dress properly.
"Master Asmodeus, I was informed of your arrival." Lucas bowed stiffly, and Asmodeus wondered if the man cared if he lived or died. If he did, he certainly didn't show it as he led Asmodeus within the borders and cast a spell to take him to the main estate. There were so many magic jammers surrounding the multitude of Fleur castles in the mountains that very few magics were granted exception inward. Lucas house was one of them. It was small, loyal, and detached from desires in a way that they were the lowest risk of betraying them.
Asmodeus barely set foot on the main greeting hall marble before a pair of strong muscled arms scooped him off the floor and crushed the life out of him. Lorenzo's scent was unmistakable and hard to avoid with the way he got a face full of his thick wavy hair. A spicy shampoo stung Asmodeus nose but he couldn't be happier to be smothered by his sire and master, even if his fresh pressed suit smelled a little burnt. The attendants were a bit stressed, so they couldn't be blamed if his master was a bit toasty.
Lorenzo dropped him back on his feet only after he was sure the man had crimped his arms, making sure to wipe away the remnants of tears from his eyes before Asmodeus saw them. "I feared you dead, Oz," Lorenzo's throat tightened on the words, but Asmodeus was the one overwhelmed with his own emotions.
"Forgive me, Lorenzo. I should never have allowed the Arcs to–" Lorenzo's finger touched his lips and Asmodeus blushed as his sire silenced him with a dark stare. Lorenzo's downturned lips into a snarl wasn't for him, but it stopped every attendant in the room as his power flooded forth and spilled out into the hallways.
