Whispered Kiss

The Essence of Blood Hounds

Bladen stepped from the car rolling the tension from his shoulders while Vivian eased in next to him. He narrowed his gaze on her facial expression, taunt and closed to the world with her lips pinched in the slightest. A facade one couldn't do without in Damania especially in the circles Bladen ran in.

Vivian, who had been a Damanian all her life, learned early on how emotion could come back to bite you. Now, when they entered Damania he saw a different side of her, more refined, composed, and shielded. Compared to their world, the mortal realm held more forgiveness than theirs ever could. If he could choose, he'd pick the mortal world.

He hoped and dreamed one day to make Damania a better place, to cease the chaos and turn it into a better place. He wished all Damanians could feel freedom the way humans did. The people deserved it.

Everything depended on their success. He didn't dare think of failure. He couldn't. Just the hankering of it made his gut turn and his mouth go dry. He didn't fear much, but failure, in this sense, would crush more than his soul alone. Instead of continuing down the path his mind took, he glanced over his shoulder, where silence rained.

Arel eased from the car with the grace of a trained debutant. His black body, even without definition, screamed poise and elegance. Bladen frowned, imagining Arel's face stuck in a grimace and his nose in the air before taking his first breath of Damanian air. Will I ever know his true identity? Bladen snorted. Did he really want to know?

"Master Black."

Bladen cringed and shifted his focus back to the expanse before him, leaving Arel and his hidden identity to do his own thing. The car stopped in an area with no particular function other than a few hectares of cosmos fields. The flowers rustled and the sky above rippled with soft beams of light. The tension in Bladen's shoulders returned and he took a step backwards, almost fearful of the penguin-suited man who eased from the ripples. He never forgot magic when he visited the mortal world but he got accustomed to living without it every day thus for a brief moment, it seemed odd to see a man appear from nowhere. The feeling however was fleeting. His bones were drenched in magic, and his body responded as if it welcomed back an old friend.

Bladen drew a deep breath. "Duwane." Bladen stated, summoning his courage to face the past, which bound him to Damania and to the African coloured man before him.

Duwane's abnormal crystal green irises observed him, before the color slinked back to dull black. Duwane smiled, pink flesh and white teeth flashing in the sun. "It has been quite some time, Master. We expected your return earlier."

Bladen rolled his eyes, "Duwane, haven't we discussed this before? I don't want to be called master. We're not in the dark ages anymore. As for my timing-" He gritted his teeth. "I got held up." He lied. He stayed away on purpose. Damania was always a place of endless heartache and headaches for him. Why would he willing want to return? He knew Duwane could take care of everything here.

"As you wish, sir."

Bladen sighed, the man knew his boundaries, and no matter what Bladen said, his father's commands and empty threats still clung to the servants governing the many mansions across the realm. Baden could just remind him every so often it's not needed. Ultimately, Duwane wanted a different world too, but struggled to see it turning towards a better future.

"Duwane, will you do us the honors." Bladen asked.

Duwane gave a subtle nod, and whispered a spell.

Duwane turned, lifted his arms, and his head lolled back. "Break the glass and open a gate through which we can pass. Verastine."

From his words, the once normal cosmos fields and the beautiful sky above, gained the softest reflective tint, and a lining of a door began forming in the centre of the field. The door shattered at its centre until the cracks reached the edges of the lining and burst open in a magical array of white butterflies. In Damania, a flare of wondrous magic happened often. The world itself burst with magic that could awe the hardest of hearts. Yet, if you weren't high born, or of high power, the beauty vanished behind red tape.