Raiden

A woman filled four cups and left the solar quietly, with her eyes downcast in fear. The men waited till her steps faltered away, exchanging heated looks, but none made a move of any kind. The room was filled with tension. Like a small swirl of smoke from underneath a bale of straws, waiting for the right moment to burst and consume everything in its path.
"So, on which occasion do you honor us with your presence, King Caleb?" Raiden broke the silence.
Rhys grunted. Honor us? More likely piss us off, he thought.
"Well, King Raiden, I thought it's about time we talk. Especially after you put new rules in place," the vampire king said.
His second, Declan, was measuring Rhys up and down, just the way Rhys was measuring the two vampires seated in front of him.
"My rules are not your business," Raiden replied, lifting the cup up and to his lips, a sign of the host that they could have the refreshments.
The nightwalker leader lift his cup to his mouth as well, the same gesture being followed by Prince Declan, who eyed the drink grimacing.
"Oh, but they are," Caleb said. "You see, they actually go against our treaty. Indirectly, yes, but still against."
"How come?" Rhys asked, lifting his brows in a confused display.
This time, Declan grunted, his gaze keep scrutinizing the sweet aged grape liquor, swirling it in its cup with a smooth shake of his hand. If Rhys was to guess, he looked as he wanted to be here as much as Rhys wanted them here.
"Is this how you treat your guests, king Raiden?" Declan asked out of the sudden, "Is this how you treat your Royal guests, knowing that there is only one good taste for when their cups are filled?"
"That's unnecessary," Caleb cut him short.
Rhys knew what he meant. Raiden knew it too. There was only one liquid that pleased a nightwalker, red and warm. Yet, he was struck by the audacity of this vampire, and that made him only hate them more.
"You weren't invited." Raiden stated, sitting tall in his chair, eyeing the vampire prince with his regal dominance, his raw power. Declan stared into his eyes for a moment, then lowered his gaze. He was no match for a king.
The only one who could hold his gaze was Caleb, for they were equals.
"It seems that my Second forgot his place," Caleb intervened. "He will be corrected soon. But I'm afraid that we prefer at least a drop of the life liquid into our cups, just for reinvigoration. You see, we travelled a long way, and the daylight..."
"I understand, king Caleb. I don't want to look inconsiderate, but, as I said, you weren't invited. Nor did you announce your visit to us. And I can not feed you my slaves just like that."
"I came here out of courtesy," Caleb replied. "Since your new rules affect us all, my entire kingdom is brewing. And no, I wouldn't expect you to line up your slaves for our needs. A prisoner would do. If I recall correctly, you have an occupied cell by a lower, right?"
Raiden's jaw clenched. His hand that held the cup squeezed harder, till he heard a low crack. Some of the red, clear wine splattered on the wooden surface of his large desk, drops dripping down of his fist. Her beautiful face appeared before his eyes, and he imagined hearing her sweet voice for a moment. The voice of an enemy, the face of a traitor. A traitor whom his heart shattered for.
"My lord," came his prince's voice, his friend's soothing voice, bringing him back to reality.
"Prince Rhys, show Prince Declan our great hall on your way to the dungeon." Raiden commanded in a bitter voice. He still didn't want to risk a war. Not yet. He needed more time. Time to harden his packs and warriors, to strengthen his new friendship with the tarians, to get the moonberries... "A small cup would do for now."
Confused, Rhys looked at him. "My lord?" Did he hear well? Feed those leeches blood?
Raiden took a long breath; he couldn't afford a mistake, not in front of the bloodsuckers. Lifting his palm up, he dismissed whatever his Second was going to say further.
Caleb, taking the hint, nodded at his prince to follow the werewolf.
"Let's talk now."

Dawn

Cold. Wet. The senses came back to her, one by one. The stench, that musty, acid stench, was too familiar.
But why was she here? Muffled voices rose from somewhere close, the metal clinging. Steps approached then passed by, determined, its heavy thuds cut by the dampened filth underneath.
She tried to move, tried to get up, but the only thing she could command to her stiff, laying body was a small twitch. She tried to call, but her sandy throat couldn't let out nothing more than a cracked moan.
Mustering all her strength, she half opened her eyes in the dim light of the small cell. "Raiden," her heart called to his, the name materializing, a soft whisper in the air.
A heavy door opened, then closed.
He was gone without even a look towards her.
She closed her eyes again, drifting into a sweet slumber, going on and off with no sense of the time that passed.
"Why, Raiden?"
But there were no ears for her pleas, only loneliness...
Then, like a ruthless avalanche, the latest events poured over. Her small body crouched on the filthy floor, but she felt limp.
'Dawner' they called her, but she didn't care. Mother was gone, the only person she ever had. All the love, the care, protection, was gone.
Her heart rose to her throat, and it felt like a thousand knives were stabbing her.
The face of her mother crumbling into nothingness kept reappearing before her eyes... how they crumbled to the ground together, holding hands...
'Why am I not dead?' A lone tear made its way down on her cheek, falling down on the earthen floor, and another followed.

She didn't know how much time passed, nor she want to know. After a while, her eyes went dry, stinking, and she had no more tears left to cry her sorrow. Lying in the same spot, with knees close to her chin and arms touching like in a prayer above the heart, she wanted to know nothing. Nothing was all she had now, all that was left. ALL SHE WAS.

Her mind slowly succumbed to the sweet oblivion again, the only place where the pain ceased to strangle her. Noises echoed in the distance, coming closer and closer, but Dawn didn't acknowledge it. She was in the only place that brought her a drop of peace. Her mind imagined a beautiful water, a golden sandy shore draped by trees of all kinds. But there was one tree she liked the most, for what it meant. She saw one of its sweet, ripen apples falling on the old roof of the hut behind, and she smiled.
Out of the sudden, she felt a cut on her arm and warm liquid dripping. But she focused. She didn't want back in the dark, filthy cell. She wanted here, where her little apple tree hut somehow moved from the high valley onto the shore of the great water. Mother told her about the sea, like she told her about many things. She always dreamed that one day they could live near the endless water, simple and happy. Oh, how beautiful it was...
But the stinging on her arm nagged her. Slowly, she was brought back and her eyes popped open.
"Lord Prince?"
Instead of using his words, he gave her a low growl and rose from her proximity with a small cup in his hand. His other hand wiped on a cloth a bloodied short blade while he slowly retreated from the cell.
Dumbfounded, Dawn pressed on the sting of her arm.
She didn't understand why he has drawn her blood, nor she wanted to.
"Lord Prince, King R- " she tried to ask, but was interrupted by a loud commotion from the outside.
The entrance door burst open revealing Alar, the dungeon guard, nearly dragging by the hair a screaming young woman. Her face was covered in grime, her clothes stained and tattered. The blackguard hauled her small frame with force down the few stairs and slammed her onto the stone wall of the passage. At the sight of the Prince, he slumped his shoulders and lowered his eyes, releasing from his grip the now terrified captive, causing her to fall on the ground.
Rhys' face scrunched up. "Explain!"
"The King's orders, my Prince," Alar simply stated, waiting nervously. He knew he was not in the royals' favors, not since his treatment of the prisoners was exposed.
Rhys acknowledged with a nod, his chin pointing to the exit for the guard.
After, he directed his full attention to the big eyed shaking lass.
"Your name," he demanded, his powerful aura sending waves thru the heavy air.
"M- Mira...beth..." the red-haired voiced, keeping her head low.
"Do I need to call back the guard," Rhys asked, "Or will you walk willingly into your cell?"
The lass shifted her wary gaze to the door on which, moments ago, Alar hurried. She pushed herself up, one arm pressing on the wall behind her for balance.
Her small and shy steps followed him, her limping becoming more obvious and loud on the dirty, damp floor.
"What happened to your leg?" the prince asked nonchalantly as he held a cup in a hand and a chain of keys in the other, halting in front of an open cell. Mira tried to mask her leg's fault, but it was too late now. She took in her surroundings, passing by a cell where a beautiful pair of blue eyes were staring curiously at her.
"They say is my p-punishment, lord, for taking m-my mother's breath when I came out of her w-womb..." Mira answered, a sad longing washing over her face. She stepped cautiously into the dark, foul smelling place of her confinement, under the slightly softened eyes of the wolf-man who she knew was a prince from how the scum that dragged her here addressed him.
He locked her cell with a loud click, turning his head to glance at the last cell on the corridor, the one cell which was not see-through. No, that cell had walls instead of bars, and he was thankful for once that he does not need to see his once brother's face. With a renewed rage inside, he shoveled the keys into a pocket and headed outside.
"Behave, and you will get to eat," he advised, "tomorrow."

.....

Caleb

"Now that we are alone, tell me why you are here." the mutt king nearly spit.

"Oh Raiden, you lose your temper for so little. I thought we were more civilised than that. As I said before, I am here out of courtesy. The rules you put in place at the Stone affect Nix."

"How so?" he asked, faking calmness, but I knew that under the surface he was boiling. I enjoyed that.

"You granted those vermin rights they shouldn't have. Once they get used to that and grow stronger, they will look expectantly towards me. With your actions, you put yourself in a good light. How long before the lowers will rebel against nixians with high demands? Or... maybe that was your intention all along." I explained, feigning concern. If, absurdly, this would happen, my blood-thirsty warriors would be very excited for a little action.

"I did not intend to put you in an unpleasant light, Caleb. Although I understand your concerns, a king can not go back on his word. We need to give them something, something more to help them survive. You know they are fewer and fewer every day."

"We need to give them something?! I don't need to give them anything, I am a King! They are beneath and they will always be beneath us- nothing but food! Tell me, Raiden, would you give your pigs for slaughter rights?"

"If we don't, you might not have any pigs for slaughter." the werewolf king pointed out, taking a sip of his damned wine and looking straight into my eyes. That hard stare reminded me of our warring days, right after he took the crown. When somehow this mutt managed to nearly kill me with his bite. I shoved that memory at the back of my mind and pondered on his words.

The diraean was right, but I could not admit fully to that and place me in the wrong. I am a king, and a king is always right.

"Have it your way for now. Toy with them all you like, give them a drop of hope. It will amuse me when you crush that hope and give them what they deserve." I laughed. "But we, Nixians, still feel insulted. Wars can start for less, but I am generous. Our treaty still stands."

"Pleased to hear that," Raiden said with a stone- like face. I knew it was just a facade, because he couldn't afford war with me. His petty kingdom was weak. He opened his mouth to say something more, probably trying to bring this meeting to an end, but my words came first.

"Of course, to look past this offence, the gift should be consistent."

The wolf was stunned for a moment, but recovered fast. "The gift? You say the treaty still stands, you say you came out of courtesy, but you came to demand things from me! You came here for tribute!" he exclaimed with little effort to mask his annoyance, standing up from his seat and trying to look big like the cornered dog he was.

As much as I wanted to rip his head off, I couldn't lose it now. I came for something, more precisely for someone, and I was so close to get what I really wanted. So I smiled again and took a sip of the wine, then I spoke. "Not a tribute, only a gift. I need something, a sign of your good will, to shut my warrior's mouths. You see, they long for war. You know how our nature is. Ten slaves should do. Think of it as a small price for your new rules."

With clenched fists, he sat again, rummaging in the situation. And the situation was, from every angle, shitty for him.

"I can't dispose of ten. A gift should not be demanded. Five." He conceded.

"Only five?" I feigned displeasure. "Fine," In reality, I didn't give a fart about the slaves. "I expect them to be delivered in a week's time. By a single escort."

"You expect me to send a wolf alone in your territory?"

"The escort shall not be harmed. Not unless my nightwalkers are provoked. I give you my word."

He gave me a nod of agreement.

.....

Raiden

After a long moment of silence, I nodded my head in acceptance for the truth of this king of what my new laws implied. In a way, he was right, but not in all the ways. Of one thing I was certain, a king can not go back on his word. Once I released the new order, it was set in stones. And everything came at a price. It was a hard thing to pick up the slaves, but it was a deed that must be done. It was even harder knowing that they will soon die. I might have found easier this task before, but not now. As hard as I wanted to deny, a lot of things were easier before. Before her. But she was a dawner, and everything was a lie. Yet, it didn't feel like a lie when she looked into my eyes, when I kissed her, when we made love. Maybe because what I felt was real, the only real thing I had left now. And that was like a knife twisting in my heart.

I nodded my head again and leaned my back further into my seat with my arms crossed in front.

Not after long, my Second knocked short on the door.

He stepped in followed by the nightwalker prince and lowered on the desk a cup half filled with blood. Her blood. My jaw twitched, my rage nearly resurfaced. With a deep breath, I pushed it all down once again, keeping it together. If I could, I would rip the bloodsuckers's heads with my bare hands. I waited till the vampires mixed a few drops of blood in my good wine that filled their cups, then I lifted mine.
They mirrored the gesture, bringing up to their lips the red, rich swirl.
"Mmm," Caleb and his Second moaned in pleasure at the same time.
Caleb dipped his finger into the blood container, not being able to resist. He sucked on his finger, eyes closed, moaning in pleasure.
"Oh, King Raiden, you must -mmm," he said in between moans, "this blood supply must be mine!"

At his words, my fists clenched once again, my breath came out in rasps.
Rhys, as always, sensed I was about to burst. He rose from his seat fast with his cup raised and a forced smile on his face. "The prisoner has yet to be trialed and sentenced," he declared, drinking all his wine in a gulp and proceeding to fill mine and his, cutting my heated glare towards the vampires with his body.
His eyes silently pleaded for me to calm down. He knew just as well as I did that we couldn't afford a war. Not yet.
"And interrogated." I added, suppressing my anger again, but feeling my limits close.

"Why don't you add this one to the gift?" The vampire king asked, still savoring the blood on his finger.
"What gift?" Rhys' brows pulled together, gaze directed at me.

"That will not be." I replied shortly.
"Well, I have in my possession something- or someone- of great importance." Caleb stated. He grabbed the cup of blood and gulped it down, slamming it empty on the desk.
"My king..." Declan, his second, intervened for the first time, but was cut short by his king, who threw us a shrewd grin. "You see, my wolf friends, I have never tasted such a rich blood, so I simply must have her. And what I offer in exchange... well... I know you will not refuse me!"
"And what is that?" I played along, feigning interest.
"I'll give you a man by the name Illre, who happens to be the head of the Dawners."
I glared at him with a stupid gaze, dumbfounded, just like my prince.
That could change everything. For me, for Jayce, for all my people.
"Send her with the others. I reckon you have enough time to interrogate her till then." Caleb's words rang loud through my ears. "And Prince Rhys here can see us out, as I am afraid that we already abused your warm welcoming," he teased sarcastically, licking one last time his finger and reaching for the door.

"Why give him to me?" I asked. "What is your actual game here?"

"He is no longer of any use to me. Take it or leave it. Is that simple."
Still stuck by the offer, all I could do was grunt and nod.
When the door was shut, all I was left with was the sickening silence and the empty cup of her blood.
My hand went to one of my pockets, squeezing hard on the tiny pebble.
The last drawn pebble, that was never put back in its satchel, where it belonged. Where the other punishments rested till the next Stone's day.
There was one choice for me, only one. For my kingdom, for all the humans, my wanting and needing faded. My torn heart was not important. My pains and sorrows did not matter. As much as I wanted to keep her, As much as I wanted to listen to her reasons, there was nothing above my people.
There was no choice.

.....