The young lord had spent the night at home before winnowing back to the house his team had been staying in. Immediately Valryn knew something was wrong. The smell of blood, both human and vampire was thick in the air. He had assumed his squad would have moved on, following the human resistance. It had been his intent to pick up their trail and catch up.

Walking quickly through the house he found nothing amiss save for the scent. Everything looked normal. To normal, Valryn realized noting that there wasn't even a trace of him or his squad having been in the house at all. 
Illusion magic?
Gathering his essence he willed his vision into true sight. The room lit with a blinding flash as residual magic revealed itself in a kaleidoscope of color.
Hissing, Valryn blinked taking a moment to adjust before studying the scene laid out before him.
There was blood and gore everywhere. The remains of every member of his squad along with those of a handful of humans were laid out in the unmistakable patterns of a high magic seal.
Gathering his power once again Valryn leaned down to touch the body of Ander and forced a small thread of power into the corpse. The seal broke with a crack of sound and displacement of air. Pain erupted through Valryn's entire body as hundreds of micro projectiles shot from every spell sealed wall of the room.
Hissing in pain he attempted winnow out. Nausea, strong and undeniable rose quickly. Falling to his knees Valryn emptied his guts. Blood, both the bright red of his most recent meal, and the darker red of his own life force spilled across the floor.
Struggling to his feet he forced a winnow and instantly regretted it. The world shattered as he crashed to the ground just outside the cabin.
Fear gripped him as he struggled for air and tried to stand. Another explosion rocked him and blackness encroached on his vision and he knew no more. 

***

Humans, despite their lofty pride, stood feeble when measured against the myriad of other sentient beings in the universe. Yet, this frailty did not hinder their relentless pursuit of knowledge and adaptation. Indeed, no other race could rival their capacity for change, nor their remarkable reproductivity. 

 
So it was when Valryn blearily opened his eyes to find a human woman pulling shrapnel from his chest while muttering quietly to herself he wondered why such a creature would help him.
"Gotcha." The woman hissed pulling a small wooden chunk from his chest with pliers. Her eyes flicked suddenly to his face, their eyes met. In that instant her complexion paled. Stepping back quickly she stared at him wide eyed. 

Valryn could feel the metal cuffs holding his wrists to the metal headboard of the bed. Any other time he'd have instantly broken them and sent the human who would dare do such a thing to meet their end. Yet the prince sensed that his magic was waning, nearly extinguished, while his body still bore the open wounds caused by shrapnel, refusing to mend as it ought to. Doubt clouded his mind; he questioned whether he possessed the strength to break free. Even more precarious was the thought of capturing the human if she chose to dash towards the weapon resting on the table behind her. If she resolved to pull the trigger, he feared he could do little to thwart her, and with his body faltering in its healing, survival felt precarious at best. Thus, Valryn lay motionless, his crimson gaze locked onto her azure eyes.

When he remained still, the human cautiously approached once more, her voice tinged with concern, "Can you hear me?"

"Yes."

The woman swallowed hard, her hands shaking as she set the pliers down. "You shouldn't be alive. That explosion... It was meant for you. It was meant to end you." 

Valryn studied her features: azure blue eyes shimmering with uncertainty and trepidation, set against a visage of beauty, framed by tousled black locks. Slowly, he reached for his power, a mere whisper of magic responded. A smile danced at the corner of his mouth. "Well, it seems it didn't quite get the job done."

At this, she frowned, "Maybe. Maybe not." Turning away, she glided to the table and grasped a water bottle. "Who are you, anyway?"

"Valryn. And you are?"

"I'm Elara."

"Elara... A lovely name." Time seemed to linger in the air as Valryn summoned his magic, his constraints breaking as he surged toward her. 

She only had enough time to gasp before his taloned hand closed around her throat. His momentum pushed them to the far wall, flipping the table where her weapon sat and slamming her back first into the wooden beams which trembled under the impact. 

Valryn's voice was a low growl in her ear, "Why did you rescue me?"

Elara's eyes widened, her fingers clutching at his wrist, "I-I didn't mean to... I thought you were dead. I couldn't just leave you there."

Valryn's grip tightened, "You should have." He felt her pulse quicken beneath his talons, the magic in her blood singing to his vampiric senses. Her breath came in short gasps as she gripped his arm trying to break free. "You should have let me die, Elara." Valryn hissed into her ear, gratified when her breath hitched in time to the fear rising in her eyes. "But now, I'm alive. And I want answers." 

Elara's grip on Valryn's arm shifted from desperation to resignation, her fingers uncurling as she spoke. "I can't give you answers if I'm dead." Her voice was steady, devoid of the fear that previously echoed in her words. She lifted her free hand, palm open, towards his chest. "But I can help you."

Valryn's brow furrowed, his grip on Elara's throat loosening slightly as he regarded her offer. "Help me?" he repeated, his voice still a low growl, though less menacing than before. "Help me how, human?"

Elara swallowed hard, her voice steady despite her predicament. "You're different. I've seen your kind before, but never hurt like this. Let me finish removing the shrapnel, I'll tell you what I saw while I work. Then you can decide to kill me or not." 

 Valryn's eyes narrowed, his crimson gaze sweeping over Elara's face as he considered her proposal. "Very well," he rumbled, releasing her to slump to the floor, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Standing, she rubbed her neck, her eyes never leaving his as she reached for the pliers and water bottle on the now overturned table.

Motioning to the bed Elara waited until he was sitting to begin her work, her movements precise and calm, belied only by the slight tremor in her hands. She dipped a cloth into the water, wringing it out before gently cleaning the still oozing blood from his chest. Valryn felt her touch, surprisingly soft and gentle, yet deliberate in its purpose.

Her voice was steady as she spoke. "I was hunting sand lizards when I heard the explosion. When I arrived, I found you... and so many other...parts. Even if I had a week, I doubt I could have properly assembled all the bodies. You were half buried under burning rubble. I thought everything was dead until you groaned. To be honest I was so overwhelmed by the blood and... destruction I did not even realize you weren't human until I had you unburied."  Pausing she reached out she picking up the pliers.

Valryn watched Elara work, her focus unyielding despite the circumstance. She was unlike any human he had encountered before. "You are a hunter?" he inquired, his voice less of a growl, more curious now. "What is it you hunt, Elara?"

She paused briefly, looking up at him with those azure eyes, now streaked with determination. "Mostly game. Sometimes pests." She pulled a small chunk of the shrapnel free from his chest. 

Hissing Valryn dug his talons into the bed. "Pests?" he repeated, his gaze piercing through Elara. "Such as what?"

Elara didn't flinch under his stare. She shrugged, "Anything that's causing trouble. Sand lizards, raiders, sometimes even rogue vampires." 

Valryn's eyes narrowed, a hint of danger lurking behind his curiosity. "Rogue vampires, you say?" he murmured, leaning forward slightly. 

Elara continued her work, her voice calm and matter-of-fact. "Yes, though not often. You lot usually keep to your own territory." She retrieved another small piece of shrapnel, this time from Valryn's shoulder. "But when one wanders off, I handle it." 

His lips curled into a snarl, revealing his fangs. "And how do you 'handle' them, Elara?" His voice was a low rumble, the danger in it palpable. 

Looking up at him, her expression remained unchanged. "Depends on the situation. If it's just one I usually try to lead them away from here so I have somewhere safe to live."

She twisted the pliers again, and with a sharp tug, a larger piece of wood came free. Valryn hissed, his claws digging deeper into the bedframe. "And if there are more?" he growled. 

Elara didn't answer, instead she wiped his chest with the cloth again. "One left. Its the largest. You should lay back for this one."

 Valryn's eyes narrowed, his curiosity piqued. "You're evading my question, Elara," he said, his voice a low rumble. He didn't move from his seated position, his gaze locked onto hers. Elara met his stare, her expression unyielding. "I'm not evading, I'm prioritizing," she replied, her voice firm.
Elara's voice was resolute, "If there are more, I end them. Now, lay back." She gestured with the pliers, her eyes never leaving his. Valryn's gaze intensified, but he complied, leaning back on the bed, his fingers interlaced behind his head. Elara moved swiftly, her hands sure as she dipped the cloth in water again, cleaning the blood from around the largest piece of shrapnel.

 With a deep breath, Elara positioned the pliers, her hands trembling slightly this time, not from fear but from the anticipation of pain she knew she was about to inflict. "This might hurt more than the others," she warned, her voice barely above a whisper. Valryn nodded, his expression unreadable, but his body tensed in preparation. She exhaled deeply, her eyes closed for a moment, focusing. Then, with a swift and precise motion, she clamped down and pulled. 

Valryn's body arched off the bed, a guttural roar escaping his lips as the shrapnel tore free, leaving behind a raw, gaping wound. Pain filled him roaring through is blood stealing the last of his reserves. Blackness surrounded his vision as he tried to clear his head. Cursing in his own language he slipped into unconsciousness. 

Elara quickly set the pliers aside, her hands shaking now from the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She grabbed a clean cloth and pressed it firmly against Valryn's chest, trying to stanch the fresh flow of blood. "Damn it," she whispered, her voice barely audible over Valryn's ragged breaths. She looked around the small, dimly lit room, her mind racing. She needed to act fast. The null shards had done their work on his healing ability, but the real problem was the lycan venom that had coated them. 

Seeing nothing that could help she looked once more at his chest a tumult of terror and fury surging within her mind. Only one path lay before her to rescue him. Yet, why was she compelled to save this thing? His kin had hunted, enslaved, and extinguished her people, seizing the very world from humanity. She harbored no illusions; had he not needed her, he would have surely taken her life. 

With an angry snarl of her own she grabbed a knife from the ground where it had fallen with the table. With it she cut her palm revealing a scarlet line. 

 The scent of her blood filled the air, drawing Valryn's attention even in his unconscious state. His eyes flickered open, gaze glowing with an inner fire as he became aware of his surroundings once more. A manic hiss escaped Valryn's lips as the world narrowed to a single red line of glittering magic. In that red line was life, power and freedom.  He reached out to claim the line as his own, but at that moment pain unlike anything he had ever endured shot through every inch of him. He could feel it a draining his very being. Death's shadow was near, beckoning from beyond the glimmering lights floating through his vision. 

Another heartbeat, another eternity later, an all-consuming fire raced through Valryns veins as a few drops of warm red liquid dropped into his mouth followed by an avalanche of exquisite power as his teeth extended sinking deep into the source of his deepest soul deep desires.  

The world around Valryn swam into focus as the surge of blood coursing through him healed all his wounds. His vision cleared, revealing Elara pale and slumped over him. With a start he realized his fangs were buried deep in her wrist drawing in her blood, draining her life force by the ounce. The surge of power and vitality as he drank from Elara tasted like fine wine, invigorating and rejuvenating. But with each sip, he felt her life force ebbing away. Pausing, eyes on her ashen face and limp body. The thought of killing her, someone who saved his life, filled him with unease. Withdrawing his fangs Valryn knew she wouldn't survive here in the wilds. He had taken too much blood. 

Lifting her into his arms he glanced around once more then winnowed. Winnowing with others was incredibly hard to do. Winnowing with a human? Valryn was not even sure she would survive but it was her only chance. Thanks to Elara and the magic in her blood Valryn had access to more power than he had ever experienced in his entire life. 

 Valryn arrived back in Niarcana this time in the slave streets, his arrival heralded by a sudden gust of wind. The air of the slave street reeked of sweat, fear and the heady sweet scent of blood, a stark contrast to the grandeur of the rest of the city. This was a place where humans were allowed to live to be harvested at their master's pleasure. The arrival of not only a vampire lord but a vampire prince carrying a bleeding human was met with trembling and prostration from every human he past as he strode toward the human infirmary.

Valryn's entrance into the medical building was nothing short of shocking. The slaves and human healers within immediately recognize his status as a vampire lord and prince, their fear palpable as they bowed and cowered in his presence.  Approaching a cowering male doctor, Valryn spoke his tone commanding, "She needs blood. O- or Ab-. She needs a transfusion now. Where is a bed?"

Stuttering the doctor glanced at the woman. "Th-this way." turning on trembling legs he led the prince to an empty cubical where a infirmary bed sat. "Place her here my lord, I w-will get the o- blood." 

Valryn lay Elara on the bed stepping back as a nervous nurse entered with an iv. The nurse, was quick and efficient, though her face was pale and her eyes constantly darted between Valryn and Elara. The doctor returned with a bag of blood, hanging it on the iv stand and opening the valve, allowing the crimson liquid to flow into Elara's veins.