Writen in the Stars - Working Title

Chapter Two

The pathway to the blood palace snakes upwards away from the sea, and even after ten years here, I enjoy the walk. The existence of leftover magic prevails, with fae creatures still roaming discreetly, buzzing through the trees, yet their emerald green wings are gone before you can look twice. There are flowers, too, miniscule, deep, purple flowers, which seem to hide in darkness at the presence of vampires. I often wonder if the vampires even know these such things exist. The air is fresh with a tinge of cold, the breeze brushes against my cheeks and spurs me on, whilst my heart pounds against my ribcage in thrill and anticipation.
The King demands nothing less than complete subservience, and more often than he would admit, even the vampires push back against his rules. Many believe that now, with magic gone, yet the vampire still able to access their immense strength from blood, they should be able to live however they please. Thus, the majority of my tasks revolve around being a symbol of power for the King, an example of what he can do to his enemies whilst also helping to keep unruly vampire under control. These jobs I can handle, far better than the odd, more unfavourable ones involving the humans and fae.

Tonight, my task is to hunt the vampire rumoured to be making forbidden blood pacts with the humans to turn them. Once, when I was young and naive and he was so blood drunk, he was almost pleasant, I had asked him why he didn't turn humans to add to his army. The honesty of his answer had shocked me - he explained he didn't want the humans working against him to gain strength or numbers. He knew that by turning one human every few years, he could keep them competing against each other for the chance at freedom. He told me then that a hundred loyal followers were worth far more than a thousand who would stab you in the back. So, if the other vampire freely handed out such a gift, he would no longer be able to use the turning to his advantage or may even end up with a traitor in the ranks. Plus, I mused, it solidified his status as the most powerful vampire if he became the only one able to grant immortality. The turning, he ruled, could only happen once every five years on the night of the hunt, where hunting laws are suspended and many humans (and fae) will be killed, but one human survivor is granted immense strength and a long life span.
Whatever the motivation, more vampires, especially young, unknown vampires, certainly doesn't sound appealing, and the chance to fight against one of the blood thirsty left me feeling more energised than I had in weeks. I practically skip along the paths, albeit silently, as I make my way towards the edge of the city. The vampire has to be making his way towards the human slums using this pathway, and I hastily pull myself up into a tree, masking my scent and hiding so that I can not be seen, but I have full view of the entrance for when he arrives. I pull the cigarettes from my pouch and light one, inhaling deeply and savouring the sharp smoke that fills my throat and makes my eyes water. And then I wait And wait. And wait. Hours seem to pass, and no one appears, my anticipation begins to fizzle into anger.

Without a second thought, I throw myself down from the tree in frustration, my blood boiling with white hot fury. I don't even have a plan for my next steps, but I need a release from the emotions that threaten to bubble over at any second. I begin to storm my way towards the city of blood and darkness, no longer caring if I alert anyone to my presence, I am itching to use the dagger in my hand anyway. Heat begins to spread from my fingers to my toes, and I bite my lip until it bleeds to stop scorching tears from falling down my cheeks. The further forward I make my way, the more I become aware of my surroundings. Angry whisperings that sound like little chimes, tiny little pin prick nails digging into my scalp and pulling on my hair. The very wind itself seemingly pushing against me as I fight to surge forward. It only adds to my temper. I should pay attention to the fae creatures, I should question their anger and the feeling of shame pooling in my stomach as I ignore them. Yet whilst I know they have never guided me wrong I don't fucking care at this second, I just need to get away from this spot before I explode. So I battle my way past them, swatting at my hair and swearing under my breath, sending a wave of my dagger towards any signs of life surrounding me. The creatures refuse to give, as they finally start to pull me backwards towards the trees and away from the city. I whirl, dagger raised and scream at them.