Eternal night, in the Dreamless Crypt…

The Caliph’s apartment in the Chandra Mahal, the legendary Palace of the Moon in the City of Dreams, was far more than adequate as a home for an Archon, easily a palace within a palace. In her time as a newborn Vampire under the protection of the Vampire Lord who called this place her home, Claire de la Lune had discovered this for herself first-hand when she had been allowed to stay in one of its many rooms lavishly furnished and decorated by material luxuries easily afforded by its owner’s coin.

Truly, this place was unlike anything she had ever seen. Even if it was true that she had come here, to the Palace of the Moon and the City of Dreams, almost a decade prior as a courtesan with Heretic to perform for its Archon and her ever-decadent court, those memories of the past were now largely a blur in her mind, a sweet dream like a fleeting desert mirage.

Slowly, surely, she was getting used to her temporary home away from home. Getting a little comfortable, too. There was much to relish, indeed, for a lack of better words. Masked servants, much like those in service to the Ecclesiarch of the Holy See of Arcadia back home in the Ancient Cathedral, attended to her every whim and desire in an apartment-sized room assigned to her and her alone. The Vizier of the Caliph, the Sand Wraith Belial Alhazred, had instructed them well, and they served her blood and wine when she felt even the slightest pang of hunger, and attended to her every request, no matter how minor or outlandish. Everything, and more.

Indeed, Claire could only wonder what dark magics were at work that could compel men and elves to offer their blood so willingly to their vampiric overlord. In the dominions of the other Archons across Melodia, vampires were, after all, regarded as monsters of the most abhorrent kind, and she knew this well enough, even if she herself had become one by fate of the Blood Curse. Feared and hated by the people at large as a perversion of life and light and everything good and dear and holy, perhaps even more so than the eldritch Hellbourne, the so-called ‘demons’ feared by mortal men and elves unacquainted with the darker aspects of the Empire.

And so, she had chosen to remain here, even if it meant leaving her beloved mistress’s side for a while. Even if her bloodlust and hunger had been staved off temporarily by sheer force of will, there was still much to learn from the Caliph of Oasis, the Vampire Lord and Death Knight of the Alyssian Empire of old, Lucid II. To control those primal urges, forever. That perhaps, soon enough, she would be able to return home and once again, live some measure of her old life in the Holy See and exist peacefully without incident with her fellow humans and elves.

Eventually. Somehow. Eternity, now that it was hers to have and hold, was a long time to work with, after all. Though even then, she could hardly wait. Even if right now, she was in the Caliph’s room and seated opposite each other in plush armchairs adorned with silk cushions, blood-spiked wine flowing freely for her audience with the masked and pink-haired elven Vampire Lord herself.

“Belial tells me that you have been coping well,” Lucid II said, the gaze of her pink eyes upon Claire’s as she helped herself to some wine. “I agree with her. You have yet to kill any of my servants.”

Claire frowned, unsure of what to say. The Caliph had a rather peculiar sense of humour, one that she had come to be acquainted with in her stay in the Chandra Mahal. But then, with her face kept hidden behind the deathly horror of her metal mask, the gentleness and lack of emotion from her words, much like the Ecclesiarch’s, made it hard to discern whether or not she was joking or deadly serious. But it was true, she had yet to act on the worst of her primal urges brought forth by the Blood Curse, those the pangs of maddening, violent hunger that she had only barely kept at bay by sheer force of will. By holding close everything she held dear within her cursed soul, and admittedly with a lot of wine, she had prevailed. For now, at least. The Caliph’s instruction of nightly meditation in the palace gardens, under the moonlit sky with nothing but quietness in the cold desert air, had helped a lot.

“Tell me, Elician Jewel.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“You feel it, do you not? Developing within you. Power.”

Thoughtfully, Claire nodded. Her body had changed. It had become faster, stronger, tougher, and more agile. She could feel it within herself, within the blood flowing coldly through her accursed veins. Her greaves and gauntlets felt lighter upon herself than ever before, and whenever she swung her claymore, practicing the drills she had learned from the Lord of Blades, Zaxas Nyzak, she found herself far more proficient with her two-handed weapon. Wielding it, far more precisely and weightlessly than ever before.

“But then, the sun…”

Pausing mid-sentence, Claire winced. It was also true, that those strengths had come with weaknesses that plagued her very soul. Even in this world of eternal night where the sun held no sway nor presence, the burning pain its light could deliver unto her was something she could still recall with dread, of how it had reduced her senses to that of a dying, disoriented wreck. Back at Fort Maria, it had happened once. And once was far more than enough.

“It weakens us into delirium,” Lucid II answered curtly as she observed Claire’s discomfort, and the pangs of agony visible within her brown eyes. “Your eyes tell me you know it, and that it is a fate worse than death.”

“Is there any way to, um… prevent it?”

Wordlessly, Lucid II shook her head.

“I see…” Claire answered, dejectedly. “Shame.”

“Your mind might be made up, but you should still consider staying here,” Lucid II remarked after a while’s worth of silence. “In eternal night, you will be free from the tyranny of Sophia.”

“Goddess of Life and Light…”

“The Great Enemy of our Dark Goddess, both long deceased from the world.”

“If they’re both dead…” Claire uttered. “Then what of us?”

“What of us?” Lucid II asked in reply, in an almost rhetorical fashion. “If you want an answer, we are free to do as we please in this godless world, creatures of light or darkness be damned.”

“And you chose to serve Elicia.”

“Most of us get to choose.”

Upon saying this, Lucid II nodded once. Claire, on the other hand, could not help but notice the way the tips of the Caliph’s elvish ears twitched.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty.”

“No,” Lucid II stated quietly, before motioning towards the luxury of her surroundings. “I have everything I want here, everything I can ever desire.”

Her gaze, casually observing all that was hers and hers alone, came to rest upon her suit of Death Knight armour prominently displayed on its armour rack, and alongside Claire, she stared at it unblinkingly.

“Everything.”

“So, um…” Claire said bashfully, smiling nervously when the Caliph’s masked gaze returned back to looking at her. “I appreciate your offer, Your Majesty, but…”

“But?”

“I have things I still want to do beyond the Dread Expanse,” Claire answered, as a wistful smile formed upon her lips. “I have family I want to be with, regardless of my mortality.”

“Respectable,” Lucid II stated. “Then you must live by night.”

Steadfastly, Claire nodded.

“I’ll do it gladly, if it’s the only way.”