#the sanguivorous sovereign; dracula

[embersrevived]

(Just a thing from @dxmnedbloodlxst ! Hope you don't mind!)

Vlad wandered into his library, drifting over silent footsteps. He always walked in almost perfect silence, though if one listened very carefully, they would possibly hear the soft swish of his cloak behind him.

Still, he observed the room, seeking out his resident student until he found her again. He almost took a delight in cautiously approaching, attempting to be even more silent than he already was.

"May I inquire what's grasped your interest today?" He hummed, very suddenly shattering the stoic silence of the library.

@dxmnedbloodlxst

The sorceress jumps ever so slightly, having grown quite accustomed to the lengthy silence of the surrounding milieu. Immediately realizing who it was, she holds a hand to the left side of her chest as if to assuage that frantic feeling and increased heart rate from the sudden startle and adrenaline surge.

“Oh, Milord, this is a most splendid surprise! How kind of you to come by, your presence is most appreciated...” Tucking an arbitrary aberrant dark lock behind her ear, she bows her head in deference before the towering monarch and mentor. Perhaps a slight crimson hue tainted her cheeks as she beheld the disorganized nature of her own desk and workspace, 

“I...I do hope you can forgive me for this utterly catastrophic clutter you now behold; I found my attention divided among several texts. Namely the likes of Avicenna’s Canon of Medicine, various texts condensing knowledge of modern medicine and its affiliated technology and innovations over the past century, that rather antiquated Grimoire of Potions & Incantations book, etc. Basically just perusing through several tomes on magic and medicine, though perhaps it would be more prudent of me to perhaps focus on one at a time, instead..” 

Her pulse accelerates once more as she realizes that the corner of her cumulative journal containing her various hastily jotted down personal thoughts, sketches, and writings managed to peak out from beneath that burden of books. Though if she attempted to adjust its position now, he would most surely take notice of her endeavors to conceal it. Gods damn her reckless reading and woeful organizational skills. 

[embersrevived]

@dxmnedbloodlxst​​

POV : you disappointed him.

[embersrevived]

“ such a fragile thing you are. ” (MATHIAS NKJJOOOO

@notte-la-lagna​

Prompt: captured sentence starters.

Indeed, the series of altercations in which she had found herself prior to her present incapacitated state had proven arduous and incredibly trying on both the mind and vessel. About her lay the scattered skeletal debris as well as severed tendrils of those beasts which had been slain as they had attempted to accost her. Though evidently, such creatures were little more than mere child’s play in comparison to the looming lord before her.

Perhaps even such descriptors as foolish, oblivious, or unawares would have been more fitting given the present situation, yet this adjective was the one selected. One denoting a subject of indurable nature, or perhaps meant to describe one of a disposition prone to a collapsible emotional state, and a mockery of ultimately futile endeavors which had culminated in this very moment. And gazing upon the one who had made the observation, this was more of an unfortunate truth than she would have liked to internalize at this moment.

She was to behold cascading waves of tresses, as dark or perhaps even darker than her own, framing that very visage of a figure whom the tales of time had described with a decent degree of accuracy. Piercing lazuline irises against an ashen backdrop flanked by rivers of raven indeed provided for a striking contrast, matching well those epithets of old which had spread even beyond the Caucasus and within the realm of her own distant homeland. 

The cerulean-eyed tactician and caliginous king, 

Crimson-soaked earth and carcasses he did bring. 

His gaze terrible, conquests traumatic, and form towering,

Myriads of souls lost as his fiends commenced devouring. 

The Dark Lord who doth brought that cursed bloody fountains,

Shed beyond the Caucasus and to our fair Alburz Mountains.

His insidious influence dispersed from the Balkans and afar,

The massacre revealed at day made the Sun our mourning star. 

The souls of satraps tarnished for a glimpse of glory, a lust for power,

To have the Shahs themselves quaking, imploring, in a state of cower. 

His physical presence for woe to ensue was not needed,

For he’d borne ghouls who to his every command heeded. 

There was little doubt in her mind that this could be none other than Shah-e-Khoun Asham himself, Derakul. And his was most certainly the last visage she would behold in the moments preceding her undoubtedly imminent, if not excruciatingly agonizing, demise. Yet still, she would be liberated from this mortal coil not without perhaps an indignant statement in defense of her previous trials leading up to this point. 

“And I am of the identical opinion regarding the majority of your underlings I’ve come across up until this point, including perhaps the very lord who oversees them, if the past tales told are to be believed.” An ebony glare was to accompany the impudent, if not slightly hubristic, tone in which the retort was given. Though the attempt at maintaining this façade would be deemed a flimsy endeavor to any being which could estimate her current heart rate as well as the maelstrom that was her mind at this moment.  A response to be perceived perhaps as one final meager attempt at saving face, for in her presumed last moments nothing could possibly worsen the inevitable fate that she was to be imminently dealt.

Her grip of the shamshir blade she had wielded prior to this likely fatal confrontation tightened, though she knew she would find little use for it now.  Though the incisive instrument had slain several of the lesser foes she had come across, it would likely be akin to the impact of hurling a wee stick before this towering entity. No mere weapon nor menial incantation would salvage her hide at this point, and even the endeavors would make for little more than paltry amusement for the detainer. To describe her current situation as a perilous predicament in itself would be a great understatement; few save for the destined slayers of ages past had emerged from that encounter with mind and form intact, and even these individuals had the additional advantage of having been native to these lands imbued with the wisdom of ancestors past.