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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They traversed the steep gorges of the Fleur territories eastern territory until Asmodeus reached an area where he could form a transportation spell. With no hesitation, the man drew on his dark magic and threw them into a cascade of spells to flit them to and fro. The point was to make following them impossible, but by the time they stopped, Jesse fell onto his knees and wanted to heave the blood he'd drank.
"How could you do that?" Jesse growled at Asmodeus as he settled and flipped a blue curl of hair that had fallen in his eyes away.
"Do what?" Asmodeus asked as if Jesse's question was somehow unclear.
"He was your sire!" Jesse near yelled, picking himself up and backing away from the man. "Sure, you have suffered for the current conflicts, but he loved you and cared for you in a way Tanya never would have for me. You owed him at least that much respect, and instead you put him down like a sick dog!" Jesse's blood reached near boiling as Asmodeus crossed his arms, raised a single eyebrow, and cocked his head to the side.
"Are you daft, Jesse Zehir? I am not Asmodeus." The words trickled into Jesse's ears, but it still took him a moment to calm down from what he'd thought was a heartless betrayal. "Talamayas could burn out Asmodeus de Fleur's eyes on repeat and drag him for days tied to the back of a horse face down, and the man would never raise a hand to his sire. I thought I'd made it apparent that I was not truly Asmodeus, but I suppose not. This is where I part ways with the guise anyway, since I need to return to the Arcs."
Asmodeus, or whoever he was, ran a hand down his arm, lighting up an inscribed spell in his flesh, and Jesse took a step back as it flooded the area with a foreign dark magic. It was not the gentle flow of the Fleur magic, and the effects of its use were harrowing to say the least.
Skin peeled off Asmodeus' arms and slouched from his face in a goop that had Jesse holding his already queasy stomach. Hair fell from the man's head like in tufts as he ran his hands through it, and below the dye of the sky blue curls, straight pitch poked out. Darkness replaced everything light about the man, his grey soulless eyes stagnating on the ground under short pitch hair, and tanned skin emerged under the previous sheen of peach.
Lastly, the stranger dropped the white Fleur attire for a tightly fitting stretch suit that covered the man toe to neck, and even his face as the assassin pulled the cover up the back of his head and over his chin. Something about the tan-skinned assassin was familiar, though he didn't know his name.
"I've seen you somewhere before," Jesse said, unable to recall though he tried. His mind was a wad of fuzz from lack of blood, and with the danger of the escape waning, his legs were rapidly becoming unstable.
"Yes, it was around the time you kidnapped Silvia Copse to use as your personal blood slave and pet." The man's even tone sank to acid, and the threat in his eyes had Jesse tightening any functional muscles he had left. "I was the man who was going to kill you." There was little place for Jesse to go as the man took a few circling paces around him. "Thankfully for you, you're a decent enough man that Silvia requested I let you live. I haven't time to loiter here with you, Jesse Zehir. The Arcs are waiting for me, and I'm tired of moving. Now or Never."
