The sun glimmered into the stained glass of Serci’s room in Eylisa, cascading shades of red and green in an explosion of color. Among the tidy piles of paper and neatly folded robes and pristine equipment lay potted flowers in array of shapes and sizes. On the dresser near his bed lay clay pot with a pair of lilies with ruby red roses in between each golden petaled flower. The writing desk facing the wall held a crystal jar, with carnations sat in beautiful, well trimmed green foliage. A shelf across from his door held a similar set up, jars with varying flowers in each.

Serci was sitting at his writing desk when he noticed something was off. Somehow he missed it walking in, but as he stared at the crystal jar, it all became clear to him. The jar once held beautiful pink and yellow flowers, however in the middle sat one dead flower. The same went for the potted flowers near his dresser. All the lillies had wilted, yet the roses remained. However, it was the sight of a jet black rose that lay against his pillow that his mind began to put together the pieces. She wanted to talk.

His stomach churned as he thought about seeing Angela’s sister deity. The relationship was certainly complicated between the champion of LIfe and Love and the Goddess of Death and Desire, however, it was necessary that Serci learn the balance between the two forces. But, it was odd that she would try to contact him in this manner. In face, he recalled the time when she intruded into Eylisa and kidnapped him. His usual beaming smile faltered, bending into a frown with concern. If something was bothering the goddess of death, then the whole of Revaliiir should be concerned. With a deep sigh, Serci turned on his feet and wrote a quick note which he stuck to the outside of his door, carefully picking up the black rose, Serci headed towards Luxuria Mortiferum.

Serci’s unblemished white robes stood out in Dalanesca’s temple as he navigated the gothic style temple fit for a vampire. A feminine hand gently caressed the side railing as his golden hair fell to his sides in neat orderly strands. Deep blue eyes pierced the darkness of the temple, repelling the fear inducing side effect that the temple carries. A very practiced smile was painted on his face, masking slight annoyance and concern to what Dalanesca could want. Between his slender fingers, he gently pinched the sides of the black roses’s stem.

The ornate Onyx throne doors opened on their own as his feet carried him down a maroon carpet. His stoic gaze was fixed onto Dalanesca in her usual attire, as he unyieldingly stared into her icy gaze. A coyish smile was no doubt on her face, but something was off about this visit. As he made his way up to Dalanesca’s throne of bones, Serci came to a kneel, bowing his head and allowing his blonde hair to hang in front of him in the process. “Dalanesca.” He said, expressionless as a greeting. He returned his sight to her’s as stood up, holding the black rose in his hand out. “I assume this your doing, Lady of Death.” He paused for a moment to let her gauge her reaction. “If you wanted to talk, I would’ve preferred you send for me. I was endeared to the carnations.” He said, irritation in his voice. “They were a gift for someone.” He chided, throwing the rose onto the ground infront of her.

"It is clear you want to talk. I am here."

It was not often that Dalanesca actually sat in her throne room, but there were certain allies whom she knew would choose that as their destination if she requested their presence in her realm. The champion of Angela Rose, the Divine Artificer – or as Dalanesca knew him, Serci – was one of those allies. Leave it to him to be proper and follow procedure – she would have much rather he just show up in the garden, or even her bedchamber – but not for the reasons one would think. Simply, she hated ceremony, and sitting here, on her throne made from the skeletal remains of many humanoid creatures – she felt awfully ceremonial.

She sat with her legs crossed, draped over one of the arms of the throne, rather nonchalantly awaiting the arrival of the champion she had summoned. She surmised that he would most likely be annoyed at her method of request, but it was unlike her to send a heartfelt note. No, she always did things to her liking, whether other people appreciated it or not.

Her request for Serci to come and see her was for a rather unusual reason. She was working through the strange changes that had happened to her with the help of Angela Rose – though Angela had resurrected her, Dalanesca did not blame her sister goddess for the changes. She knew that the Voice had something to do with it, as though it were throwing another challenge her way – the Voice certainly seemed to like doing that.

Soon, the onyx doors to the room that housed her throne opened, and in walked Serci in all his effeminate glory. She gave him a little wave, rolling her eyes slightly as he bowed. ”You know I’m not about these formalities, Serci,” she sighed under her breath. Her eyes flickered to the abyssal rose in his hand, and she nodded. ”Indeed, you are correct. And unless the carnations were for me, I couldn’t care less,” she said, though the impish grin on her face was a giveaway that she was being rather sarcastic herself. ”Truthfully, I am sorry. I had no idea that my message would possess that much of my aura that it would kill nearby flora,” she added, her smile faltering to somewhat of a frown as he tossed the flower to the ground

She hopped up from her seat and moved to stand next to him, and before she knew it, she embraced him in a rather uncharacteristic manner. She pulled away after a moment, looking at him with an expression unlike any she had exhibited around him before. It was clear that she was rather grateful that he had come when she had requested. ”Look, Serci, I am sorry that I didn’t come to you in person, but, truth be told, I’m actually a bit scared to leave my realm right now,” she added, shame and embarrassment rather clear on her face. ”I don’t know how much Angela has shared with you, as her and I are still trying to figure out the details…” she trailed off, as though she were trying to find the right words to say. ”But the long and short of it is that, when Angela brought me back during the war… something in me changed,” she began.

With a wave of her hand, a table and a few chairs appeared. She gestured for Serci to sit in one of the chairs while she took her place in the other. Another wave of her hand and a cup of brewed tea appeared in front of Serci, and a black cup in front of her, filled with some sort of steaming liquid. She grabbed it, took a drink, grimacing, and placed it back down.

”We’ve found that I… need to ingest human blood on a fairly regular basis to maintain control of myself,” she said, deciding that there was no other way to put it. ”If I don’t, I will stop at nothing to get the blood. And I mean nothing,” she added. ”I murdered several of my staff a few days ago,” she added, her eyes looking blank for a moment. ”I didn’t know what I was doing, and I couldn’t stop – that’s when I went to Angela for help,” she added. ”We still don’t know the full details, but we know that much. I’m terrified that if I leave my realm, I’ll hurt too many people. You know as well as I do that I like a good kill for sport, but… not that many. Not when children could be at risk. Not innocent people.” She took another drink of the cup in front of her. ”I’ve found that animal blood doesn’t satiate the urge, but it suppresses it a bit,” she added, gesturing to the cup in front of her. ”So don’t worry. I’m not going to come after you. I just… I needed someone to talk to, other than Angela, to tell about this – who would understand that I don’t want to hurt any innocents,” she added. Death aside, she was never a fan of harming those who completely did not deserve it.

She was quiet for a moment, the animal blood she was ingesting not sitting well with her at all. Her eyes grazed over Serci’s face for a moment, before cascading down to his throat, and even his hands, her eyes finding the faintly visible veins in each area. ”You’ll have to excuse me,” she said, her voice sounding rather flustered as she tore her gaze away from him in a moment. ”I’m still learning my limits. I’ll summon one of my staff in here shortly so I can feed quickly, then I will stop… I will be able to maintain my composure,” she said, giving pause so that Serci would have time to react to all that she had told him. As she had stated, she didn’t know how much Angela had already shared with her champion, but she knew if anyone would offer good advice, it would be Serci.

Serci stood in front of Dalanesca with a serious expression as she teased him about killing his gift for Trista. If he wasn’t irritated, he would’ve rolled his eyes at her sarcasm. Ever since Dalanesca’s participation in the warped tower, Serci treated her different from everyone else. He was stern,cold, and to the point. A clear contradiction to his warm and pleasant demeanor that much of his friends were used to. But when she pulled him into a hug, Serci honestly was taken aback.

His eyes widened in surprise as her velvet arms wrapped around him. He could feel her heat through his soft robes, as her hair tickled his neck. He stood motionless letting the embrace come to pass. Something was clearly a miss with her, and she decided in comfort from Serci. In that moment, Serci decided to drop his stoic demeanor, and show her the kindness he showed everyone else. With a sigh, the stone expression from Serci’s face dispersed, showing a delightful smile as a slender arm gently found its way to the top of Dalanesca’s head. When she pulled back, a table was formed which Serci took a seat next to, preparing to hear what had transpired.

In truth, Serci thought he was being played. But he could hear the desperation in her voice. A terrible plea for help as she was lost in confusion of this recent change in her life. He felt a pang of sympathy tug at his heart as he listened silently to her story. “You were right to come to me, Dalanesca.” He said softly, his eyes open and warm. “You shouldn’t need to worry, we will figure this out together.” He said, when noticing Dalanesca’s eyes growing darker as she sized Serci up, eyeing his throat, before climbing down onto his hand that rested on the table. “Dalanesa.” He said, raising his voice.

She reassured him he was in no harm, however, he couldn’t lie, he did not feel all to safe in that moment. He leaned forward in his chair, his arms resting on his knees as his face inched closer to hers. His eyes softly burned with sincerity while his voice held the same tone. “I’m sorry you had to go through all of that alone.” He said, his barely above a whisper. His eyes were placed on Dalanesca’s icy blue gaze, locked in contact. However his mind wandered to solutions that satisfy both Dalanesca and Serci’s pacifist morales.

His first idea would be to recruit convicts that had committed crimes heinous enough for death and send them to Dalanesca, however, they were still humans, and sitting by while humans were sent to Dalanesca to drain did not sit well with him. He thought he was onto something when he thought of Angela’s profession as a healer. If existing blood from wounds and cuts could be bagged and sent to Dalanesca, would that not quench her thirst? The flaw in that plan was the amount of blood. It could take weeks before enough was supplied to keep Dalanesca in control. It pained Serci to imagine Dalanesca confined to her temple, forced to drink animal blood while she waited weeks on end on a craving that would only last a couple of days.

Then a fatal thought crossed his mind, which he almost dismissed. Volunteers. Volunteers that she could count on, her most trusted friends. If there was enough, she could take a certain amount from each, without killing the host. Serci even considered himself. If Dalanesca did happen to lose her self control, then Serci would be resurrected only minutes later. However, at what cost to himself? He was not yet to reveal the swords true power, and It was unknown if the Sword of Eylisa had consequences for revival. After all, life and death was cycle, to break it would be unnatural. But seeing Dalanesca the way she was now, afraid and confused, caused something to stir with in Serci. Before he knew it, he had jumped from his chair and spoke. “ You will not call one of your staff members.” He ordered. His left hand raised to brush his blonde hair around his back, draping it across his right shoulder, exposing the left side of his neck. His left hand quickly rolled up his sleeves on his right hand, barring his wrist to the open air, and to Dalanesca. “You will… take… from me.” He said, his voice low but determined.

“I can not stand by and let you feed on innocents when you are not properly yet able to control your self. I will be your source of blood until that moment comes.” He said with confidence, a fierce look in his eyes, as he passionately continued. “You are Angela’s sister, and though I may not say it, I do consider you a friend. And I can not bare to see you suffer like this.” He said, reassuringly. “You will take from me.” He said, softly, angling his neck so Dalanesca had easier access to his veins. He also thrusted his wrist out, not knowing if Dalanesca had a preference. “Do not fear for my well being. If you go to far, I will bring you out. I will protect you from yourself.”

“It’s a promise.”

Serci’s response echoed in Dalanesca’s ears, causing her to fall silent. While she had expected Angela’s champion to be understanding with her, she had not quite expected the reaction that her explanation had some how garnered. As he pushed aside his flowing hair to the side, Dalanesca’s gaze once more traversed its way down his face to his neck, where she could see the faint outline of a pulsing vein through the champion’s pale flesh. It then followed his hands as he rolled up his sleeves, her gaze lingering on his wrist.

”You don’t need to do that,” she breathed as he finished making his promise to her, though she had yet to be able to tear her gaze away from his skin, the thought of tasting his blood now at the forefront of her mind. When Serci held his ground, however, she nodded, finally tearing her gaze away from his wrist and back to meet his own eyes. ”Why you are doing such a favor for me, with all the wrong that you have seen me do, is beyond my understanding, Serci,” she said, her voice still holding a rather breathy tone as she took in what was being offered to her. ”What I do know is that I am grateful, and please, if I lose control, by whatever means necessary… stop me,” she added.

With that, she stood up, sliding her chair closer to where Serci sat, close enough where when she sat down, her knees were at his legs. She reached into a small sheath at her hip and pulled out an ebony dagger, carved from reinforced onyx, and took a deep breath. With her free hand, she grasped Serci’s hand and pulled his wrist towards her. ”Thank you,” she said, and slowly pressed the dagger to his wrist, making a quick slash against the vein. Though Serci did not make much movement to inform her of any discomfort, she still felt a pang of guilt as she injured him – though that guilt faded as she saw the crimson blood begin to seep from the small wound she had caused.

Her hand wrapped around Serci’s forearm, drawing his wrist to her mouth. Her lips pressed against the skin around the wound, and her eyes closed as the first taste of blood hit her tongue. She made a small noise as she attempted to draw more blood from the wound, but it seemed that she had been too careful with the incision she had made, and it was not offering enough. Remembering that Serci had offered his neck, she managed to gain enough control of herself to pull away from his arm, letting his hand and forearm fall back to the table.

Serci seemed to make a movement to back away from her as though he thought she were finished already, and she protested. ”Wait,” she said. ”I couldn’t get enough,” she added, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she were embarrassed at what she was having to do. ”Can I…?” she asked, her gaze shifting to his throat again – and when Serci seemed to understand what she was requesting and didn’t protest, Dalanesca grabbed the dagger from the table again. She leaned toward Serci, his hair still pushed to the side and exposing his neck, her eyes darting back up to his face before they reached his throat again. This time, she knew she had to be a bit deeper with the cut, and she was – the blood immediately began seeping from the wound, and she heard an audible gasp of pain from above her.

Her eyes widened substantially at the sight of the blood and she discarded the dagger. The blade clanked noisily on the stone floor, and Dalanesca closed the distance between her mouth and the cut on Serci’s neck, drawing the blood into her mouth. Her eyes closed as the relief of feeding washed over her, and one of her hands snaked around to the back of his head, her fingers tangling in his long hair as she pulled him closer to her.

The blood was pouring rather freely from the slice in Serci’s neck, causing something of a fury within Dalanesca – and with one swift movement, she was no longer seated next to Serci. Instead, she had pounced on top of him, knocking the chair he sat in backwards. The two toppled over, Dalanesca straddled atop him, and she let out a hungry growl as she dove back towards his neck, striving for more of his blood. She heard him make a noise – she wasn’t sure what kind of noise it was, whether one of pain or something else – and it was enough to snap her momentarily back to reality, to realize just how far she had gone.

She managed to pull herself away from the neck, a bit of blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her eyes had gone completely black, and as she pulled away she looked up at Serci’s face, almost scared of what she would see, her eyes fading back to their normal icy blue. She stared at him for a solid moment before bringing her hand to the wound on his neck, less concerned about the one on his hand, whispering something inaudible. A heated sensation cascaded from her palm, clearly a spell to heal the cut she had inflicted on his neck.

She blinked a few times, looking at him beneath her. He was much sturdier and masculine feeling to actually touch than his outwardly feminine appearance let on – something that she hadn’t exactly expected, though it made her glad as the topple backwards had likely not injured him. ”Guessing that wasn’t as good for you as it was for me,” she said, though her normal sarcastic comment, to be expected from her, was wrought with a wavering voice, giving way to the fact that inside, she was still terrified of what was happening to her.

Serci answered Dalanesca with an affirmative nod before she scooted her chair next to him. When he stopped to think about it, it was the first time she had ever thanked him, only highlighting the severity of the situation. She scooted next to him, her knees bumping into his. Serci braved the cut on his wrist with a stoic determination. He watched motionlessly as Dalanesca fumbled with finding a way to his blood. Clearly, she had little to none experience from a willing participant. She loosely gripped his hand, bringing it to her mouth. He could feel her warm breath on the skin of his exposed wrist as she parted her lips around the small cut.

Her lips closed around the cut while a weird sensation ran though Serci. Her grip tightened as she let loose a moan of pleasure. His eyebrows furrowed as he watched her drink from his slender wrist. Occasionally, Dalanesca would moan which would unnerve Serci. When she parted, Serci began to draw his hand back but stopped at Dalanesca’s insistence. When she asked about his neck, Serci nodded, tilting his neck slowly. He braced his self for a cut, but before he knew it, Dalanesca had slit the side of his neck, discarded the blade, and buried her lips into the side of his neck.

Serci clenched the side of the table, surpassing a moan as the goddess of desire drank from him. Her hand through his hair, pushing him into her. Serci moaned, ever so slightly as she began to draw harder. Her grip was now painful, her movements predatory, and her moans had turned into snarls. His hand shot out to squeeze Dalanesca’s knee through the pain. She moved from her chair and pushed her self onto Serci. She continued further, causing both of them to topple over onto the hard marble floor. His head crashed against the floor, causing his sight to blur. He saw Dalanesca straddle across his chest with a snarl and blood stained teeth. His strength drained, Serci thrusted his hand out to guard his throat but Dalanesca was already at his neck.

He inhaled sharply at her aggressiveness. Her hands moved down to his wrists, pinning them against the ground. She moved deeper into his neck, taking more blood from him. His eyes began to spin, as the image above her began to grow dark and blurry. He began to protest less, pouring less strength in resisting as he concentrated on staying awake. The world around him began to quite as the sounds of Dalanesca gulping his blood grew louder until they were deafening. His hand closed around Dalanesca’s fingers as he meekly whispered her name. Suddenly, her pace slowed, her grip around his wrists loosened enough for his hands to slide safely away.

After a moment, she pulled away, blood dripping from her mouth to splatter into his hair which lay in messy heaps against the marble floor. A weak smile formed around the corners of his mouth as he watched Dalanesca’s predatory black eyes fade to her iridescent blue he had come to know. He said nothing, as she remained on top of him for a moment before making a sarcastic comment. An exhausted laugh escaped his feminine lips as his arms shot upwards and pulled her down onto him with what strength he had left.. He strengthened his grip around her reassuring her he was alright. “Let it be known that the Champion of Love was able to make the Goddess of Desire moan in uncontrollable pleasure.” He whispered into her ear, continuing off her sarcastic comment. “She toppled onto him, throwing her self onto him.” He added, chuckling lightly. He closed his eyes, giving Dalanesca a reassuring smile. He dropped his arms from her, letting them fall to his sides, exhausted and tired from the struggle. “You are in good hands, Dalanesca. Between Angela and I, you will get through this.” He said confidently as his eyes locked with hers. “You have my support. And my blood. It’s only a temporary solution, but you will have my support as long it takes.” He said, fiercely.

He gestured for Dalanesca to dismount him, weakly supporting his self up. He quickly patted down his robes, he began running his fingers through his hair, soothing out the knots and gathering it all together so it fell loosely without effort. “You do not need to worry for me, Dalanesca.” He said, giving a final brush through his hair. “I am aware of my feminine appearance and demeanor, but I assure you, I am quite sturdy beneath this facade. Do not concern your self with me. I am fine.” He said confidently to dispel any doubts she may have.

“After that performance, I assume you got your fill, or do require more?” He asked, with a hint of concern.