The Vampire's Moonlit Throne

The sun had barely crept over the horizon when Elara awoke, her thoughts still heavy with the weight of the night before. She dressed quickly, pulling her cloak tight against the lingering chill of the castle. There was a new tension in the air, something that seemed to hum into the dark forbidden corners.

The pull from the night before hadn't disappeared completely, though it had lessened. She could still feel it, a faint hum beneath her skin. Elara didn't know where to begin her search for answers, but she knew the answers lay somewhere below her nose. She just has to look hard enough.

Her thoughts kept returning to Ravenor, to the way he had urged her to run. She was hoping to find him and ask him about the strange occurrence, but the castle was vast, and Ravenor, when he wished to be, was as elusive as a shadow.

Elara turned down one of the long corridors, her steps echoing faintly in the silence. As she passed by one of the towering windows, she paused, her gaze drawn outside. The courtyard below was empty, save for a lone figure standing by the old fountain, his back to her. He was dressed in a long, dark coat that fluttered in the morning breeze, his posture rigid and imposing.

She didn't recognize him.

Curiosity tugged at her, and Elara made her way down to the courtyard, the strange pull from the castle momentarily replaced by the need to know who this stranger was. Maybe he had brought a news about the attack on her village? As she approached, the figure didn't turn, but she could feel the weight of his presence, heavy, like a storm waiting to break.

When she was only a few feet away, the man spoke, his voice low and smooth, laced with an accent she couldn't quite place. "You must be Elara Celine."

Elara stopped, her heart skipping a beat. He hadn't turned, yet he knew who she was. His voice carried a strange familiarity, as though it held secrets she wasn't meant to know.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice steady despite the sudden surge of unease creeping up her spine. "And how do you know my name?"

The man finally turned, and Elara's breath caught in her throat. His face was sharp, angular, with high cheekbones and dark, piercing eyes that seemed to see right through her. His hair, long and black, framed his face, giving him an almost predatory look. But it was his eyes that unsettled her the most, black as night, but with a strange flicker of something more beneath the surface.

"I am called Drystan," he said, his lips curling into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's a pleasure meeting you."

Elara's heart pounded faster. There was something about his sharp gaze that set her on edge, something about the way he moved. Like a predator sizing up its prey. He had smoothly ignored her inquiry about how he knew who she was.

"Did you bring any news about my village?" she asked. Afterall the advisors had told her they would look into the matter and find out who was behind it.

He shook his head. "I am here for Ravenor."

"Oh, I haven't seen him." she replied with a dull disappointment.

Drystan chuckled, a sound that made her skin crawl. "He's here. He's always here, whether you see him or not." His gaze flicked up to the castle, a shadow crossing his face. "And you should trust me when I say so."

Elara frowned, her mind racing to understand what was happening.

"Why are you here?" Ravenor's dark voice rippled through the silence as he stepped behind Elara.

"Told you." Drystan bounced a wink in Elara's direction.

"Talk to me." In the blink of an eye, Ravenor was stepping in front of her, his large frame blocking the view of Elara completely. "And you," he tilted his head slightly, "leave!"

Elara didn't need to be told twice as she turned around and took hasty steps towards the corridor. However as soon as she stepped into the corridor, she hid by a window, poking out her face just enough to watch the drama unfold before her.

Drystan's smile faded, his expression turning serious. "I've come to collect on an old debt. You owe me something, and I intend to claim it."

"That debt was paid long ago."

She could see Ravenor's face from the side. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were fixed on Drystan, but there was something else. Ravenor's fists were clenched by his sides and even from here, she could see the slight shaking of his hands.

Drystan raised an eyebrow, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement. "You think so? I don't recall agreeing to that."

Ravenor stopped a few feet from Drystan, his expression hardening. "I've kept my end of the bargain. You have no reason to be here."

Drystan tilted his head, his smile returning. "I disagree. You and I both know that the past doesn't just disappear, Ravenor. It has a way of catching up with you."

Elara's gaze flicked between them, her mind racing. She had never seen Ravenor like this, tense, on edge, as if Drystan's presence alone was enough to shatter the cold, controlled exterior he always wore. Whoever Drystan was, he held power over Ravenor. Power that Ravenor was desperately trying to keep hidden.

"I suggest you leave before I do something I regret later." Ravenor said, his voice low and dangerous.

Drystan chuckled again, his eyes never leaving Ravenor's. "Regret? Are you even familiar with that word?"

The air between them seemed to crackle with tension, a silent battle waged in the space of a heartbeat. The atmosphere was alive with the remnants of whatever had passed between these two men in the past.

Drystan finally turned to leave, but not before casting one last glance at the castle. His eyes lingered on it for a moment and when he smiled again, it was stained with malice.

"We'll be seeing each other a lot more from now on." he said softly, his voice carrying an unsettling promise.

And with that, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows of the courtyard as quickly as he had appeared.

Ravenor stood there, watching until Drystan had vanished from sight. His jaw clenched, and Elara could see the tension in his posture, the way his hands stayed balled into fists at his sides. She hadn't seen him like this, so visibly shaken, as if something deep inside him had been rattled.

Who could have such an affect on a man like Ravenor? She thought.

Ravenor didn't move for a long moment, his black eyes still fixed on the empty space where Drystan had stood. For a brief moment, there was a flicker in his eye, something vulnerable, hidden beneath layers of control. But just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the cold mask he always wore.

When he finally spoke, his voice was cold, distant. "You know thay saying, curiosity killed the cat?"

Elara jumped in her spot. He knew she was there. How?

Ravenor turned towards the window she was standing in and she immediately stepped back from it, her heart jumping violently.

She was dead.

But Ravenor simply walked away, disappearing into the castle without another word.

And to her, surprisingly enough, his lack of reaction was even more scary than his reaction itself.