Enthrall the Night

Where Do I Go from Here

Where do I go from here?

I wanna listen

Hear you and your every word

All that I know is I don't really know

Where do I go from here?

Will you come back?

Will you come back?

Will you come back for me?

For me?

Where do I go from here - A Year on Earth

Zoraida missed her knives dearly.

She was having a miserable day. Sure, she was alive, and her body was somehow intact and healthy, which was a miracle. But now she was faced with the reality of what had happened to her, to her friends. She had had to relive the events from the attack of the temple only minutes ago, as she retold the Enforcer who was interviewing her, what had happened. He was a werewolf called Eloi, who stood at least a head above her.

Zora had not realized she was afraid of him, until he had closed the door behind them in the interrogatory room. But she was, and she had been unable to hide it. She had tried to, yet couldn't help herself from following every step he took, searching for any signs of an attack. He had noticed, and had offered her to be interviewed by an elf, or a vampire instead. She refused, of course, unwilling to yield to her fears.

She had forced herself to sit down in front of him and speak.

To his credit, the man remained calm, and collected at every step. Even while she cried at the memory of her friends. He offered her a handkerchief, a glass of water and an energy bar. He never offered comfort, but didn't behave coldly either. It was more as if emotions remained outside his capabilities.

It seemed, the stories told among the temple, that there was little difference between Arbitrators, enforcers and computer programs, was true.

In any case, by the time the interview was finished, she felt exhausted. She would have loved to just lay down next to Ailana, while her friend complained about the latest injustice in the temple. She would have also liked to stand and watch the Saintess while she changed attires. Anything that felt familiar would have been welcome.

So when the third King of the North had entered the room, she was almost happy.

Sure, they had only met twice before, but he was the closest thing to a friend she had in that place... If only he hadn't spoken.

"I want to make you my thrall," he said, and would have been stabbed on the spot, if she had found something to stab him with. Oh, how she missed her knifes.

"Do you have a death wish, fangs?" She asked. Her voice trembled slightly, but she still managed to put a mocking tone to it.

As if sensing the danger he was in, the vampire lifted his hands.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Zoraida found a pen on the table and threw it at him. She knew he would dodge it, and he did, but trying to stab him would have been just as fruitless. And, to be fair, she did not really want to stab him. Sure, she found the thought of it surprisingly relaxing. However, the vampire had saved her life. Her conscience did not allow her to hurt him.

"You want me to be your slave?" She hissed instead.

"What?" Quintus looked confused at her words. "No!"