Dohmenic

With a feral roar, the Dralan flipped the large table with all the maps and charts over. He stalked up to the Kathmir who in his servant robes looked to be shrinking under his icy stare. He seized the puny male by his throat and hoisted him into the air. "She did what?!"

The Kathmir begun struggling for his undeserved breath and started to turn red from efforts. "S-she slept w-with a Lathra! H-he was coy, m-my lord!"

Roaring again, he throttled the Kathmir into the wall, hearing his spine crack against the cobbled walls, but he did not care. He knew it wasn't the Kathmir's fault, but hunger and anger could do that to you. And desperation too.

After nearly two months of starvation, he had finally found a Mihr. A beautiful one at that. It had been a hard temptation to not just bed her like he would have any other Kischmir, if it wasn't because she held what he needed dearly; Pure blood. Untainted by the carnal impulses of a male.

He had been feeding from her for almost three months, keeping her in a locked perimeter to ensure her blood would remain pure. She had been a good Kischmir, she really had, but lately she had been flirting shamelessly with his Lathras, her important purpose getting to her head, making her think she held any status in his castle. She didn't. That didn't stop her or his Lathras from going for the prohibited, though.

Months of keeping her safe, unsoiled, away from temptation - wasted. One of his Lathras had gotten to her and taken her to his bed; He had tainted her blood with his impure scent and semen.

"Bring the Lathra to me," He growled to his Kathmir who was trying to pick himself up off the floor. "I'm going to deal with him by myself. Then call for Callath. Tell him I want him to expand his search for a new Mihr. No, not just one; Several. I need spares," The Dralan walked up to his window and glared out to his kingdom that was falling apart. "Loads of spares."

"Yes, my lord."

He heard the Kathmir shuffle out of his chambers, closing the solid wooden doors behind him. He was scared. They all were. And they should be.

As the Dralan gazed upon his crumbling kingdom, he wondered how it had gotten to this. His father had been a wise leader. So had his grandfather and his father before him. What had went wrong? Was he a failure as a Dralan or just a failure as a leader? He didn't understand, he had barely made any changes since his father departed this world. The only real change being that his Lathras had to pledge their allegiance to him with the token of their blood. The pledge sounded that any Lathra who went against their King in any way, defied him or disgruntled his path or will would get thrown to the mercy of The Blithesome Miss. He practiced the timocracy he had created above all else, and that was why strong measures were required when one broke that pledge.

"Forgive me for what I am about to do," He whispered to the dark night sky and the twinkling stars, hoping She was listening to him tonight. And then he reached for his dagger with the forged red blade, the one his father bestowed on him before his last breath. "If You care about me and the noble pure blood You put in my veins, You will grant me another Mihr. I put my good faith in You, Miss."

And then, as the knock on his door brought him back his anger and fury, he turned to the coy Lathra who nervously came in. "You wished to see me, my lord?"

He clenched the blade in his hand as the unknowing Lathra kneeled before him in obedience, bowing his head.

Forgive me, he thought one last time before wrath flooded his system and he lashed against the Lathra.

Leyla

"This is where you will sleep. The females wash room is through that door and the dining hall is through there. Do you have any questions so far?"

Leyla looked at the Kathmir who was showing her around and quickly shook her head. He seemed nice, polite and formal, like a true Kathmir. Then again, getting to be the head Kathmir probably didn't happen without those requirements.

"Good. Now, these are your robes," The Kathmir handed her a stack of folded clothes that appeared to be a long dark-green dress with a tight neck and a loose gown. It was simple, plain, with only the long white falling sleeves to indicate her status as a Kischmir. "You wear them at all times, the only exceptions be when you bathe and sleep. You will get assigned a Kathmir to sate your hunger, a Kathmir to whom you will provide the same services. Make sure you never allow him or yourself to drink too much, seen as though it will take you too much time to recover - time we cannot waste. Understood?"

She nodded and curtsied respectfully to the Kathmir, who despite their similar ranks, still ranked above her because of his gender.

"Good. Now, repeat after me; Grace, respect, obedience and submission."

"Grace, respect, obedience and submission," Leyla echoed, bowing her head.

"I hereby pledge my allegiance to these words as a Kischmir and vow to live by the honor code my Dralan has commanded, on the count of death if I should not."

Leyla repeated his words slowly and carefully, afraid to accidentally mispronounce or forget a word. When done, the Kathmir took her hand and bared her wrist, before doing a symbol over her vein with his finger. A symbol of allegiance.

"Welcome to the Royal staff," He politely said after releasing her hand. He folded his hands on his back and gave her a stern look. "If you will please change into your robes, I will be back in a few minutes with your chosen Kathmir. The one whom you shall feed and get fed from."

Leyla bowed again as the Kathmir left, leaving her to change. The dress was a tricky attire to get into, especially the head, since the buttons on the back went all the way from her waist to the nape of her neck. Kischmirs weren't allowed to show much skin and their hair had to be tied up and dressed with a white bonnet. The only thing they were allowed to show were their face and hands. No wrists.

She would have to get used to that, that was for sure, and the struggle of buttoning all the buttons on her back as well. But it would be worth it. The Dralan's castle was the safest place in the world as it were, at least here she knew could sleep without the fright of being awakened at night by some vivacious male with a hunger for a Mihrs blood.

Shuddering from memory, she fought to button the middle section of her dress, the place where her hands couldn't reach no matter how she twisted them, when suddenly a pair of gentle hands assisted her.

"It will get easier over time." It was a male. His voice was friendly, calm. It almost made her feel safe.

She dropped her hands to her side and let him button the rest of her dress with his respectful, calloused hands. When he was done, she turned around.

He was of normal to strong built, handsome and brunette. His skin was fair to olive, and he had the most beautiful green irises she had seen since her mother passed away. She couldn't help but blush when the male smiled at her, a perfectly friendly smile that showed he was of kind nature.

"Kathmir," She said and curtsied to him, when she figured he was her assigned Kathmir. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Please, I know the formalities require a certain display and way of words, but when we are just us, call me Ahrron," He smiled again, showing off his set of fangs. "What is your name?"

Thinking she already liked this Ahrron, Leyla stood up and gave him a nervous smile. "Leyla."

"Beautiful name," Ahrron affirmed with yet another little smile. He had many of those. "Suits a beautiful female. Come on then, I am to show you around. Are you feeling alright? I know it can be quite a transition."

Leyla followed him as he started heading out into the main hall and begun the tour of the magnificent castle. She could hardly believe how big it was when she first arrived, but alas it was. The Blithesome Miss had showed her the path when something inside her told her to head north. Finally, she had stumbled upon the giant gates of the Dralan's castle, realizing then what she had to do. It had taken some time, but with persuasion, she convinced the head Kathmir to take her in when she offered to work for free, in return of having a safe place to sleep - without, of course, telling him the real reason as to why she was homeless and running. The rest was history.

"I'm feeling quite alright given the recent changes," Leyla replied to Ahrron who led her down different corridors. "I'm humbled to work here, this place is breathtaking. Is it true that the Dralan built most of it himself?"

"A true King builds his own castle so that he is the true master of it," Ahrron enlightened with a straight glance to the foyer that was coming up in front of them. "Only then can he call it his territory, his home."

"Oh my," Leyla breathed, impressed. "Have you ever met the Dralan? Seen him? Spoken to him?"

"Seen him, yes. Spoken to him, no," Ahrron smiled. "But that is because I am not his personal Kathmir and I do not walk the same floors as him. He is in another part of the castle while we are here. Only few get to go to the other side, and that is if you are either lucky or about to be executed." Noticing how she paled, he quickly added, "But you should not worry about that. You are new and innocent, you have no history to cause you trouble."

She eased a little but still couldn't help but feel a little nagging in her stomach. The world was a dangerous place, even inside these walls.

Ahrron walked her around the important parts of the castle, the parts where she would be cleaning and servicing the Lathras. She had been nervous about those, but Ahrron had calmed her by telling her they were hardly there. "They normally train all day, then go out for the fairer part of the night to protect the streets. Only after midnight do they come back, and by that time they are exhausted and just want to sleep," He assured her. "They will not bother you if you just do your job quick and efficiently, helping them with their weapons and armor."

Leyla nodded and listened to all his advice and tips; Tried to remember which halls were quicker and shorter and which would lead her on a wild goose chase. Ahrron had been a Kathmir for nine years, so he knew just about everything there was to know.

"So here we are," He finally said as they entered the servant vestibule again. "Any questions?"

Leyla shook her head, but couldn't help but feel a slightly bit fatigued. Not from the grand long tour of the castle, nor the running all night, but from something just as wreaking.

"When was the last time you fed?" Ahrron warily asked when he noticed the dwindling color of her cheeks.

Leyla tried to remember, but failed to. She had been running for so long, she couldn't recall the last time she had the chance to feed, let alone found someone whom she trusted enough to approach.

Ahrron rolled up the sleeve of his robe without waiting for her reply, watching as her eyes zoned in on the beautiful throbbing vein in his arm. "You need it, Leyla. Come now, feed from me."

Only hesitating for a moment, watching his friendly but firm nod, she knelt down before him as custom would have it and let him lean his arm to her lips.

"Take my vein, Leyla."

With a hungry hiss, Leyla drew back her upper lip and extended her fangs, before she punctured his delicate skin, and with long heaving sucks, drank his blood with blissful satisfaction.