@DusksongOrion came to a stumbling halt, his legs unable to hold his body up any longer. He dropped to his knees, blood dripping from his face as he trembled from shock and pain. The regenerative properties of his kagune were too slow. He needed to eat something or he might actually die this time.

But where was he?

The dew of what was barely even morning matted the grass below him just as his own blood matted his hair and stained his clothes. There was a castle before him. Tall and ornate as it was, there was something dark and secretive about it. Something magical. Even if he wasn't in such a destroyed state, he would not have noticed it until he was right next to it.

Every muscle fiber was on fire, every bone ached. His head throbbed and his balance was skewed, but he managed to crawl to the marble steps of the castle before collapsing. His black and red eyes darted around as his stomach wrenched and knotted. Someone let out a shriek of agony, or was it fear? And was it someone, or was it him? He couldn't tell anymore.

There were flashes, memories he didn't want to remember. He lay there weeping quietly from every from of pain that a person should never have to endure.

Nia was tapping her pen idly against her desk when the alarms sounded. The sun was low in the sky, per usual as Moroi usually began their days after the sun had set or at least started setting. As one of the few members of Moroi royalty on campus, Nia received a certain amount of special treatment, which included the two students occupying desks at either side of hers.

To her left was Finlay, a dhampir guard in his eigth year at the academy. Mostly surly and quiet, he wasn’t one to talk as much as brood. To Nia’s left sat Aoife, ever bright and sharp. Aoife had graduated the previous year but was immensely talented in combat, thus allowing her serve as the “senior guard” of Nia’s pair of dhampirs. As a new graduate, Aoife didn’t have too much to do and therefore volunteered to sit in with Nia during her classes. Finlay, not wanting to be outdone, volunteered as well, and so there they were. Nia found his desire not to be outdone by a girl one year his senior rather endearing, especially when said girl already had two strigoi under her belt to match the few dozen strikes of other accomplishments. Rather, Nia knew that Finlay’s skills lay out of the heart of combat, but that was besides the point at the moment.

“Students, please exit to the halls to the left quickly and quietly,” the teacher instructed. Aoife was on her feet in the blink of an eye, scanning the empty halls for danger.

“Clear,” she told Finlay, and the younger dhampir immediately guided Nia in the correct direction.

“Would you two just calm down for a second?” Nia said, rolling her eyes but complying with their intentions. As funny as disobeying her instructions would have been, Nia knew that any danger that came to her wouldn’t just land her in trouble; it’d also end up hurting her dhampir guards one way or another, and that was the last thing Nia wanted after just beginning to crack open Finlay’s hard exterior and finally starting to impress Aoife, the resident prodigy.

“We’ll calm down after we can guarantee your safety, Princess Cordellenia,” Aoife said, reverting back to polite courtesies under pressure. Nia sighed, following the older dhamphir through the halls. Finlay shot her a sympathetic look.

“Don’t mind Aoife. She’s just worried,” he reassured Nia. The Moroi princess snorted a laugh as Aoife called back a “I heard that!” before waving the pair down a side hall, away from the other students and towards the Moroi royalty’s private lodgings for emergencies.

“Do either of you have any idea what’s happening, by any chance?” Nia asked, entering the quaint room as Aoife held the door open for her. A silence followed, prompting the Moroi to look back at her two guards with narrowed eyes. “Spill.”

“We’re not sure,” Finlay started, looking at his partner for guidance, “but there are only a few reasons why the academy would call an emergency like this without any warning.”

“Of course, nothing’s for certain,” Aoife interrupted, reciting another book-guided disclaimer before pursing her lips. “However, such succinct emergencies would only be called in case of a Strigoi attack—which is unlikely, so you needn’t worry about that Nia—or…”

“Or?” Nia prompted, frowning as she waited with crossed arms. If she had to play the pampered princess card to get information out of her guards, then so be it.

“Or,” Finlay continued, glancing at Aoife for any indication that he should hold his tongue. There was none. “It could be... a Fallen One.”

---

@TheMinorFall

Orion heard the alarm. He could barely move without pain shredding through his entire body, but he managed to pick himself up enough to see the doors open. Three athletic looking people came through the open doorway with silver steaks at the ready. When they saw him, they cautiously scooped him up by the pits of his arms and drug him through he doorway from which they came.

His bleeding body left a red smear in its wake, and the act of being moved was excruciating. The pain had been so bad for so long that he was too tired to even care any more. Tired and disoriented, he kept his head up enough so see his surroundings as he was drug deeper into the campus. The only thing he managed to retain before passing out from blood loss was a girl.

She was beautiful, with long, blonde hair and a face like those girls in the human magazines. Impossible. She had to be a hallucination. No one was that beautiful in person. He shook his head and looked again. They were passing by her, but he could still hardly believe his eyes, who was this girl who looked so different from those around her?

He couldn't stay awake long enough to think about her. The world went dark as she leftbhis field of view.
@Dusksong

Needless to say, Nia had to get a glimpse of the so-called “Fallen One” after Finlay and Aoife spoke about the creature so haltingly. Before Aoife could close the door to the saferoom, Nia had darted out and was now racing through the halls. Figures ahead were heading in the direction of the front gates—dhampirs, by the looks of it—and Nia did her best to speed up as the voices of Aoife and Finlay sounded behind her, calling for her to turn back.

Having attended St. Vladimir’s for over seven years now, Nia wasn’t exactly new around the place, and she knew the fastest path to the academy’s front gates as well as any other rebellious but sheltered royal did. Less than five minutes later, Nia skidded to a stop at the top steps of the gates, panting as her eyes took in the sight in front of her.

Two dhampir guards towed a hunched figure towards the gates, trailing a glistening blood red smear in their wake. The body between them was a canvas of blood and pain, smeared with scarlets and browns of both fresh and drying blood, and Nia stared in transfixed amazement until the metallic scent floated up with a breeze.

Never in Nia’s life had blood smelled so terrible, so filled of loathing and pain. Immediately she shrank back from the smell, eyes wide in alarm. The boy was no human, but nor was he of Moroi blood. No, he was something else altogether.

“Princess Cordellenia Conta!” a voice boomed from within the academy. The St. Vladimir’s Academy Chancellor, Dolorante Mortuge strode out, hair tied high in an impeccably smooth bun and sharp silver eyes flashing as she glared at the royal-blooded eighth year. “I demand to know where your dhampir guards are and why they have not yet escorted you to the safe room!”

“Chancellor Mortuge!” Aoife said, skidding to a halt beside the respected moroi and bowing her head. Finlay followed suit, and Nia caught a shade of fear in his eyes before they flicked to the ground. “We are very sorry. There is no excuse, and we will humbly accept our punishments, but please allow us to first escort Princess Cordellenia to the safe room first.”

“What—that’s unfair!” Nia exclaimed, eyes widening. Of course she knew that her dhampirs would get in trouble for her antics, but she’d seldom seen Aoife simply accept the punishment like this. Usually both sides were more affable and lenient, and the senior dhampir guard’s quick concession scared the Moroi princess. “Chancellor Mortuge, I was the one that ran ou—”

“Silence, Princess Conta,” Dolorante interrupted, eyes blazing. Nia shrank back, muted against the much older Moroi’s fury. “Do you know what is at stake right now?” she asked. At Nia’s silence, she snarled. “Evidently not. Aoife, I leave her in your hands,” the Chancellor said, eyes passing over Finlay without sparing him a glance before waving her hand to dismiss the trio. “And I pray that, for your sake, you do your job better this time.”

Nia allowed herself to be led away quietly, silenced at last. She allowed herself a final look behind her at the mysterious boy before the gates closed with a solid thud behind her.

---

@TheMinorFall

@DusksongOrion awoke to what could only be described as a retrofitted dungeon. It was modernized with electronic locks and surveillance, but it was a dungeon all the same. In a way, he felt a sense of relief. At least he knew what to expect from such a place. Anything was better than that wooden chair and checkered floor. This floor was grey and cold. It felt nice on his face as he lay on his side.

His body was clean and bandaged. It seemed someone had tended him in his unconscious state. What kind of people would do such a thing only to imprison him? Why would they keep him alive? That had to mean they wanted something from him, just like the others. In a sudden burst of terror, he jumped up and went to a darker corner of his cell. There was nowhere else to hide. His fear was eclipsed only by the unbearable knot in his stomach. The wrenching gastrointestinal pain of a ghoul's hunger had set in.

He gripped his abdomen with one hand, using the other to catch himself as he fell to the ground again. He wanted to shout for help, but he knew none would listen.

****

Desmond Lloyd was tall and lean, but his build didn't match his ability as a Moroi. He was strong for his race, especially in his gift of fire. Despite these, however his true strength lay in politics. The Vampire was not accustom to playing games. He was straight forward and blunt. Apparently the queen liked that in him. He figured she must have liked his complete disregard for rules he deemed pointless too because he hadn't gotten in trouble yet.

Des entered the chancellor's office with a graceful, long-legged stride. Hands straightened his black, velvet suit jacket and removed blackened, John Lennon sunglasses. His pale, milky-red eyes gazed vacantly at nothing as he addressed the woman before him with a friendly, yet mischievous smirk. He slipped the glasses into his inside jacket pocket, tilting his head down toward the action. The movement allowed some of his thick, unruly, jet black hair to fall in front of his useless eyes. He liked to turn his head toward actions like he did because it made those who knew him subconsciously more comfortable. Those who didn't know him would have trouble discerning the visual defect he had been born with.

"Madam chancellor." He greeted, flashing a toothy, fanged grin. Hiding this feature was not something he bothered with since such appearances were irrelevant to him. "I hear you have a... what did they call it? 'A Fallen One' in your holding cell. Since the reports your guardians made, the queen has tasked me with helping... deal with it." He drew a hand-rolled, clove cigarette, lit it with a snap of his fingers and drew, awaiting a response. He hoped his reputation had preceded him.

"Desmond Lloyd, correct?" Dolorante Mortuge said, standing and stretching out a hand. "I just received the message from the Queen. This way, please," the Chancellor said, leading the way out of her office. Keeping up a brisk but not precisely fast pace that Moroi often did when on business, Chancellor Mortuge walked Desmond to the back of the more heavily-guarded academy halls and down the stairs that led toward the probation cells that were more commonly known as the "dungeons."

Dolorante came to a stop before an ancient wooden door reinforced with iron, turning to the royal-sanctioned Moroi as she waited for the guard to unlock the dungeon door. "If you don't mind me asking, Mr. Lloyd, what do you plan on doing with the detainee?"

Desmond replied to the chancellor's inquiry with a slight, bouncing nod and another toothy smile. He drew on the stoag between his fingers one final time before killing the smolder with his magic and stuffing it back where it had come from. Turning with finesse and offering an arm for her to take may have seemed a response to the offered hand to the untrained eye. In fact, he was not aware of her action at all, but he had guessed she would do something of the sort. This was not their first encounter, and it would certainly not be the last. He knew she would observe the formalities of an official of the queen's court, and milking it was his favorite response.

Her touch was elegantly light as she led him into the depths of the Academy. Despite the clear strength behind it, her grasp was comforting. She smelled sweet too, and walked with an astonishingly light step, even for a Moroi. Her family stature, being very much above his, showed in every little mannerism and perceivable feature was pleasant. That was why he never really trusted her fully.

"I intend to talk to him. And then I will decide if he is to be executed... Or released and enrolled in St. Vladimir's." The moroi said with an empty gaze and a smirk that creased his already apparent laugh lines.

"Of course," the Chancellor said, stepping into the now opened dungeon door and into the cool, dim stone-walled room. "This way, Mr. Lloyd," Dolorante said, leading the way towards the back of the dungeon. Despite the state that the being the guards had found earlier that evening had appeared to be in, the Chancellor knew better than to take such chances. She had been entrusted care of the school in part due to her attention to detail, a point so finely engrained in her she rarely had to question her own actions.

Coming to a stop outside the correct cell, Dolorante flicked her eyes briefly over the iron-enforced door to make sure the protective runes were still in place before handing the keys to Desmond. "I trust you can take it from here?" she asked. "If there's anything else we can assist you with, don't be hesitant to ask."

Desmond, tightened his arm around the chancellor's hand, his face turning deadly serious, despite his blind gaze. He was not a member of a royal family, he had worked hard for his position. And he was not about to have his authority or stature dismissed. He would allow her to leave when he was ready.

His demeanor changed from formal and inviting to an air that commanded respect, or even a slight tinge of fear. "Surely, Madam Chancellor, you do not intend to leave an impaired moroi official with an unpredictable member of a mostly unknown species."

He felt the guards tense with his action, but they wouldn't dare move on him.

****

Orion stood and moved his body more into the sliver of shadow in his cell. They were right outside the bars. A thousand questions went through his mind. What would they do to him? Why were official-looking people here? The last suited person to confine him had...

No, he wouldn't let that happen. He would die first, but his stance collapsed again. The wrenching pain in his gut threw him to the floor as he let out a gasp of agony. He wasn't sure if it was the hunger or his head hitting concrete that had elicited the stifle choke of pain, but it didn't matter, he couldn't get up. He needed to eat. He needed, "flesh."

Had he thought that or said it? Probably both, but even with his torture, that girl was in his mind. She was the only thing keeping him sane at that point.

****

Dolorante paused, eyes narrowing slightly when Desmond's arm tightened around her hand. Being the Chancellor of the academy, she had been fortunate enough as to make the acquaintance of many a colorful individual, and she was no stranger to unexpected occurrences. Nodding, the Chancellor moved to open the door, her hand still in the other moroi's.

"Would you not mind me overhearing your conversation?" Dolorante asked without looking back at blind moroi, lifting the key to its rightful home. It slid in smoothly, a deep metallic click sounding as metal touched metal. Pausing slightly, the Chancellor gave it a twist that was followed by multiple clicking noises as door slid open to reveal a figure sprawled upon the floor. Her frown tightened as the stench wafted over, blood but not blood.

The sightless Moroi eased his lock on her hand as she complied. He was, after all, fond of Dolorante. Exercising his positional status was not something he liked to have to do among friends. He flashed her a sarcastic grin, "I believe that this is as much your business as it is the court's, even if they don't see it that way. If this young man is to be allowed to roam this Academy, and I were in your position, I would want to know every detail."

The door slid open and a scent wafted over them. Des had encountered a number of species with odd smells. But this one was an aroma to remember. Like old, coagulated blood, the smell was both of the living and the dead. Yet the creature before him was very much alive. It was not lost like the strigoi. In fact, it merely seemed hungry and afraid.

"Flesh.." the boy choked out between stifled, gasping moans of pain. He was gripping his abdomen as if it would twist and and tear itself off.

"What is your name, boy?" Des asked powerfully. His deep voice was rugged from years of clove cigarettes, but it filled the room easily. But the young man was crazed with hunger. He leapt from his position on the floor and slammed into the bars. If not for the magical barrier, he might have been strong enough to bend them. And if not for he bars themselves, Des and Dolorante might have been dinner.

The Fallen One melted back down to the floor, sobbing.

Des turned to the Chancellor, "Be a dear and have your guardians fetch one of the... donors that are near enough to their expiration to sacrifice. Better if they have some venom in their system too. Otherwise, I imagine it will be quite painful."

Dolorante pursed her lips. As the Chancellor, it was her job to ensure that all the donors were well looked after. Although she didn't believe that humans were on the same playing field as Moroi, the Chancellor did not believe in cruelty. However, just this once, there was indeed a human that satisfied the requested parameters, although...

"Williams. Fetch the donor that was moved to the ward a few days ago," Dolorante told the nearby guard. "He should still be in the third wing."

Turning back to the Fallen One, the Chancellor softened her frown a bit before addressing the figure sobbing on the floor. "The donor I am bringing you is a bit past his prime. He overextended himself last week, volunteering for a impromptu party held by some of the more immature members of the academy and ended up bedridden for the past few days and perhaps even the rest of his life. He constantly drifts in and out of consciousness, and he may well be unconscious when he is escorted in. Would such a donor suffice?" Dolorante asked, now addressing the moroi official as well.

Soon enough the guard returned, a unconscious figure draped over his shoulder. Marching over, Williams eased the elderly human onto his feet and guided him through the last few steps towards the Fallen's cell.

"Bites don't hurt," the old man was muttering, eyes lidded but flickering with life every few seconds. "Never have. Don't hurt. Make me happy. No pain."

Dolorante averted her eyes from the donor, pursing her lips and turning to Desmond. "So, how do you want to proceed?"

@DusksongDesmond gritted his teeth, he could smell the imbalances in the donor's hormones, but there was barely a trace of venom in him. The medical staff must have flushed him out. Good, they didn't need a stoned Fallen One.

"Let him eat, and collect the young princess that saw him. I'll need to speak to her." He said, he rough voice echoing off the metal walls. With that he exited the room, having never needed a guide to begin with.

****

Orion looked at the human with hungry, pulsing, black and red eyes. The small part of him that remained underneath his animalistic state was disgusted. What were these people doing to this man to make him act so willing to be fed upon? It was truly foreign to him, but the human was willing, and he ghoul wasn't in the habit of turning down an easy meal.

When they let the his food in, Orion had the decency to flit to the human's side and break his neck with blinding speed and force. He would not be alive to feel was what happening. He was dead before he could finish a breath. The next part was not so clean and controlled. It took less than ten minutes to consume his fill, after which he plopped into a sitting position, wiping his face on the sleeve of his provided clothes. His wounds healed immediately and his ghoulish eyes calmed, but remained as they were. The meat had been frail and weak, giving him only a small measure of strength and sanity, but it was enough for him to collect himself. He looked away from everyone, focusing on the floor.

"I'm sorry for how I acted.. you don't understand what hunger is like for a ghoul." He said softly.

Dolorante pursed her lips as the Moroi official left, eyes watching the Fallen One as he moved towards the human with dark eyes glazed with hunger. Turning, she headed back up to her office before the feast began.

---

“I truly am sorry, Aoife,” Nia said again from her seat on the bed, knees gathered in her arms as she looked towards her right to her Dhampir guard. “I only wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

“No need to apologize, Nia,” her stone-faced guard said as she closed the door, turning to the girl. A glimmer of gentleness could be seen in her eyes, allowing Nia to relax slightly, loosening her grasp around her knees. “Just… don’t run off again, okay?”

“Of course,” Nia said, a relieved smile on her face as she walked over to the older girl and hugged her. “The Chancellor won’t hold you accountable for this. I won’t let her.”

“It’s not always your choice,” Aoife said, sighing. A knock on the door prompted a tense swivel in place, but the Dhampir relaxed when she opened the door to find Finlay with a tray of refreshments.

“Oh thank heavens! I was just about dying of thirst,” Nia said, walking over briskly and snagging a mug of water. “I suppose it might have been the nervousness?” she mumbled over the rim of the cup, taking deep gulps of the cool liquid.

“Or the fact that you skipped lunch,” Finlay said, offering a mug of water to Aoife before setting the platter down on the coffeetable. “Chancellor called for the princess — said she wanted to see her. She was heading back to her office with some Moroi. Official-looking, but I don’t like him,” Finlay said to Aoife. The other Dhampir set down her mug, a small frown on her face.

“High-ranking Moroi are rarely likable,” she said, sighing. “But they’re to be followed nonetheless.”

“That’s excluding me, right?” Nia joked, looking between her two Dhampir guards. Finlay rolled his eyes, moving towards the door as Aoife smiled.

“Of course, Nia. Excluding you,” she said, gesturing for the princess to follow her. Setting down her mug, Nia followed her guards down the corridor and towards the Chancellor’s office.

---

“Madame Chancellor,” Aoife said, knocking on the door before opening it. The Chancellor waved them in with a polite smile, rising from her seat as the trio — two Dhampirs and their young Moroi charge — entered the room.

“Glad to see that you made it, Princess Conta,” Dolorante said, looking towards the man beside her before turning to the two Dhampirs. “Aoife, Finlay, would you two be so kind as to wait outside?”

Finlay looked like he was about to protest, but Aoife grabbed his arm, eyes flicking to Nia’s. Nia nodded, and the older Dhampir exited with the younger in tow. The Chancellor looked on with an emotionless gaze before turning to the Moroi official beside her.

---

@TheMinorFall

@DusksongDesmond lit the cigarette he had started before with a snap of his fingers and took a long, hard drag. He inhaled the cloud of billowing slate grey and released it through his nostrils. He ignored the custom of bowing or self presentation, but addressed her appropriately.

"Your Highness, I understand you witnessed something peculiar today," he stepped forward with one hand out as if he didn't already know exactly where the desk was, which he did. It was a skill he had learn long ago to remember the placement of objects in a room, and wherever he went. His enhanced senses were Ben more enhanced than that of the average Moroi too, due to the lack of one, "but that is not what interests me. What I find fascinating is that you must have seen his eyes, and yet you did not flee. Most Moroi Royals are too self-preserving to brave anything, let alone an unknown and frankly terrifying beast." He drew once more, blowing the smoke away from the princess before continuing, "Are you courageous, stupid, or simply intrigued?"

Two of those options were useful to the official. One was not. Her answer would decide the next course of action. He waited, his head turned slightly so that his ear was toward her. The air was spiced with clove scent. The retrofitted air conditioning hummed ever so softly. He could hear every little sound and smell every scent, right down to the Chancellor blinking and the faint perspiration of the Dhampirs outside. They didn't like being separated from their charge. That too was good. Despite all of the 'noise' in the room, Desmond could smell the royal girl's perfume perfectly, and hear her breath and heartbeat. The tiniest hint of a lie would be like an alarm clock in his ears. This was his main value, the one that gave him purpose in his secret duties under the queen.

Nia resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at the scent of the cigarette. As the acrid smell almost seemed to burn when she breathed it in, Nia had never understood how some Moroi could stand to smoke. The Moroi official who held the thin roll of smoking paper struck an intimidating presence despite his blindness, seeming confident and cold, prepared for anything that might go against — or in — his favor. All the points accounted for, Nia didn’t like him a bit.

As he spoke, Nia had the distinct impression that he didn’t like her either. Perhaps he found her interesting or mildly entertaining, but he had no interest in her beyond the curious and purely scientific. Her eyes flicked towards the Chancellor, who nodded and indicated that it was Nia’s turn to talk. Clearly the man was a high-ranking Moroi indeed if he was able to silence the stiff and really rather rigid Chancellor.

“All of the above,” Nia said flatly. “I would say I’m intrigued, but some would probably say I’m courageous, while others still would say I’m stupid for running towards the boy in the first place.” Boy, she thought, frowning. Was the blood-ridden figure she’d seen really a mere boy? He’d looked like it, but her nose told her different story — one of hatred and darkness. “I’m curious, to be honest. But I understand that my actions were quite thoughtless,” Nia said, glancing towards the Chancellor to make sure she heard. Dolorante didn’t move a muscle, blinking in response as if she hadn’t heard the veiled apology. “So I’ll keep it to myself whether or not I’d do it again.”

---

@TheMinorFall

He wasn't necessarily caught by surprise. She was a royal, but her answer did snag his interest. Something about the way she carried herself made him willing to trust her. Even if it was just a sliver of his trust he was prepared to offer. He cracked a toothy side-grin, tilting his head to reveal one cold, useless eye. This was going unexpectedly as expected.

She wasn't consumed enough by conceit to claim a lack of fault like most royals. He had run into many Moroi who presumed the rules didn't apply to them, but she was different. "You misunderstand, your Highness. I'm not reprimanding you. I just want to know your motives." He stepped closer, his authority seeming to radiate from him like an aura, and offered his hand. "If you would join me, I'd like to take you to meet him." He offered.

Perhaps a girl of seemingly similar age would entice the Fallen One to speak on what happened to him and what exactly he is. Desmond was even milling over the thought of letting the thing roam free, under supervision of course. He turned one war toward the Chancellor, "It wouldn't be too much trouble, would it Dolorante?

****

Orion waited on the cold floor, gripping the bars of his cell as he looked around the room. He wasn't sure if he wanted to be thankful or worried. He was caged again, but a cage was better than that chair. All that open space, but nowhere to move to. He had been bolted to that chair for... how long was it? Days weeks? More? He shuddered and moved away from the bars. The guards had cleaned up his.. mess while he had watched from a corner. It seemed there was more faith in him than seemed appropriate, given the situation. Something felt off. They seemed more interested in him than he was particularly comfortable with, but for the time being, he wasn't strong enough to escape. So he waited...

@Dusksong

“No it wouldn’t,” the Chancellor said, surprising Nia. As much as she wanted to see the boy-creature she’d seen earlier that day, Nia didn’t like the Moroi official and didn’t trust anything he suggested. However, the desire to feed her curiosity was strong — stronger that her dislike for the strange, blind Moroi.

“I’d like to bring my guards if possible,” Nia said, taking the Moroi official’s outstretched hand hesitantly before glancing towards the door.

Desmond's grin widened and then settled into a hard line. He guided the girl, retracing his steps back to the dungeon. The cell, still lined with all of the precautionary wards was somehow darker. It felt darker. The moroi official could not see, but the energy in the air was palpable.

****

Orion froze in his shadowed corner. It was the girl, the one he swore had been a hallucination from the blood loss and near-death experience. She was real, and the ghoul wasn't sure if he was terrified, or awestruck. His red and black eyes stayed fixed on her, keeping his peripheral vision on the others.

Nia looked at the boy curiously. There was no mistake — he was a boy. But there was also no mistake that he was no mere boy. The scent of his cell, the smell that wafted off the boy himself, and his eyes… Red pupils on eyes of pure black? It’s just like that childrens’ story about the night stalker that’ll come eat disobedient Moroi children… No, it can’t be, right? Nia thought, snapping to look back at the Moroi official next to her in alarm. “What is he? Not Moroi or Dhampir,” she continued, frowning. While having Finlay and Aoife waiting outside reassured her — the Chancellor had recommended that they come along since their duty was to protect the princess at all times — she still didn’t feel completely comfortable meeting one of the beings she’d heard horror stories about as a child.

I’m probably just overreacting, Nia realized, take a deep breath and exhaling before looking the boy in the eyes. “Hello, I’m Cordellenia, but you can call me Nia,” she said with smile. “Can I get your name?”

Orion maintained his gaze, watching the girl's every move. Her hair swished through the air with her movement as she snapped a look at the others like her, but they weren't like her. She was much more beautiful.

"No, he is not like any of us." The blind one replied.

When she addressed him, a pressure formed in his chest. There was no way to identify what to call it. There was some kind of pressure and heat. Her eyes were like hazel gems, seeming to draw him in, but he finally broke his gaze.

The red in his eyes began to glow ever so slightly in the dark as the flesh in is belly began to permeate his body, and engorge his kagune with the RC cells. When he felt it begin to hit his blood stream, there was a strange feeling. He wasn't supposed to feel that strong from eating such weak flesh. Something was off.

"Orion." He said, tempering his voice so that it sounded, in some measure, soft and inviting. It felt odd as it left his lips, but the innocent tone was true. He had done nothing wrong...

He had done nothing wrong...

“Orion,” Nia repeated, trying the name out on her tongue before looking at the boy with a kind smile. “Interesting name. After the constellation, right? The one of the hunter.”

Glancing at the blind official, Nia figured that -- since he'd volunteered to bring her down here -- she had some leeway with her questions. She couldn't fathom why the older Moroi had done so, but she had too many questions beside ones about the official -- more pressing questions about Orion, the mysterious boy that so resembled the "night stalkers" in bedtime stories Nia had heard when she was young.

“What happened to you, Orion? How did you end up here?” she asked, eyes wide with curiosity. “And why were you so hurt?”

The question stung, and he physically recoiled from it, taking a moment to think. The torture. The pliers. The chair. He was zoned out for a long moment before his mind returned to the now. Slowly he leaned his head to the left, audibly popping the vertebrae as he did. When he replied, he didn't look at her. He couldn't, and he didn't know why.

"Nia is a nice name. It sounds soft." He deflected.

---

@theminorfall

---

Perhaps this would be harder than he thought. Desmond took the Chancellor by the arm and turned to her. It was as if he were a close friend of hers, rather than an official on business. "Chancellor, your... guardians are more than capable of keeping an eye out, why don't we see what was on the tapes. And summon the campus doctor. We might be able to use the input of a medical expert." He almost commanded, politely gesturing for her to lead the way.

Becoming quite used to the way Desmond seemed to order everyone around, Dolorante readily lead thee way to the security office. "The Dhampir who works here should be able to tell you what's on the tapes," she said, guiding his hand to the shoulder of the Dhampir in charge of the security feed. "He wants to see the cameras around campus during when the Fallen One arrived," she informed the guard, turning to Desmond as she made to leave. "I'll inform the nurse that we need her now, and we can call her once you're done looking through the tapes."

---

Nia frowned. Comments about her looks and heritage were common, and Nia was used to sideways comments. Sure someone might say her name was pretty, smooth, or elegant, but soft? That was new.

“Thank you,” she said, dropping the frown. Perhaps that was Orion's way of complimenting people, although she noticed that he didn't appear to want to answer her previous questions. Well, she'd have to start from a gentler angle. “Can you tell me where you're from?” she asked. "Any family or friends to contact?”

Orion eyed the girl from behind his arms that were folded and resting on his knees. This felt like being questioned, only her question was fairly harmless.

"I was born in America, but I grew up in Japan." He said, reminiscent of the days when things weren't so complicated. When he wasn't so complicated. Suddenly he realized something, "I don't even know where I am right now." He added.

“Montana, America,” Nia supplied with a frown. “I'm guessing you wouldn't know how you got here?” she asked. The Vampire Academy resided deep in one of Motana's many forests, miles and miles from mortal civilization. Sure it was possible to get here within a day if you knew where you were going and had superhuman speed like most Moroi and Dhampirs, but Nia was still surprised that Orion had managed to get this far. “Did you perhaps... have someone with you?” she asked carefully, figuring that whoever it was that bloodied Orion up couldn't have been a friend.

---

"Jarrene will be available shortly," the Chancellor said as she closed the door to the security room beind her. "Are you finished here, Desmond?"

"I have everything I can glean from this." the official admitted with a sigh. He patted the guardian on the shoulder and took Dolorante by the arm. He was beginning to act more and more familiar with the Chancellor. Whether it was because he liked her or he was playing a game was unclear, even to him.

"Take me on a walk, Madam Chancellor." He requested as the entire way he carried himself shifted drastically to a serious and genuinely worried air. "We have some things to discuss."

---

"Montana." Orion thought aloud. The next question caught him off guard again, but he answered instantly with trauma in his eyes. "I ran. I ran here from-" he caught himself as his eyes went wide with fear. He shifted closer to Nia. If she was there, then he couldn't be in the chair. "I ran for so long, days maybe?"

"Days?" Nia echoed, shocked. Moroi could go around two days without feeding, but any more and they began to pale and wither. Nia looked over the boy again, wondering whether he'd eaten yet. The cell smelled of fresh blood, but Nia knew that Orion wasn't a Moroi -- or Strigoi, for that matter. "Have you... eaten anything yet?"

The face of the man that the others had called "Donor" flashed across Orion's mind. "Yes. They gave me a human called Donor. He was near death, so they said it would be okay." He wrung his hands as he spoke, regret and satisfaction tearing his emotions. "I could taste it. Eating him was a mercy after whatever was done to him at the party they mentioned." He surmised. He really felt it too. The meat had even tasted lethargic.

He shifted, resting hellish, yet soft and tormented eyes on Nia. Tears welled but did not escape. "I c-couldn't stop. I didn't want to, but I was so hungry, and hunger makes a ghoul crazy." Now, the sadness had pushed moisture from his eyes. "Starvation for a ghoul is Hell."

---

"So what was it that you wanted to talk about, Desmond?" Dolorante asked, guiding the man through the academy's airy courtyard. There was a slight breeze about, blowing fresh air towards the pair as they went on. Dolorante had a feeling that Desmond really didn't need a guide at all, but she could sense that he was on edge and didn't see the point of bringing it up.

---

@Dusksong

Desmond breathed a heavy sigh. He couldn't even enjoy the sweet breeze as it caressed his face. "You have named this creature a 'Fallen one', but he is much like the rest of us. That being said, he was tortured. That much is clear. What else is clear is that he was running from something, or someone."

He lit a cigarette and stepped over a misplaced stone he could hear was blocking the breeze, "We need to find out what is coming, if they're like him, and for that matter, what he is capable of. Thankfully, I believe we can get him to fight on our side, or at least provide intel as to what we're dealing with in exchange for room and board."

He drew deep on his cigarette, letting the cloves and nicotine fill him before he released the smoke. "I just hope the others see things like I do. For now keep an eye on him. If he seems benign, release him. Give him a room, feed him if you can, but don't let him gain too much strength. I must have words with the Queen." He released her arm, and made off for a secluded area as he pulled out a flip phone with brail buttons.

Watching the other Moroi disappear behind a tall oak, the Chancellor paused to think over what he'd just said to her before making for the academy. The boy, harmless or not, was now being held inside the academy and therefore under Dolorante's guardianship. Figuring that Desmond probably had a reason to be concerned about the boy, the Chancellor decided to give the boy the benefit of the doubt -- unless something happened to her students.

---

"Oh," Nia said, dropping her eyes. As a royal, she'd been sheltered from most of the violence in the world, and Nia couldn't imagine being so hungry as to need to kill a person. Thinking back to the nursery rhyme, she realized that Orion hadn't just killed the man; he'd eaten him, flesh and blood. That was what the little rhymes alluded to -- full consumption of flesh and blood. "A ghoul," Nia echoed, nodding. "Although I haven't met one before, I know that hunger does terrible things to the brain. It's alright. If the Chancellor let you put the donor to rest, I trust her judgement."

Orion calmed and looked at the spot on the floor that was still dark from the mop. "At Anteiku, we ate the remains of people who committed suicide. People who weren't alive to look you in the eye with that fear..."

He wasn't necessarily talking about the donor, but the others he had eaten whilst with...

He was taken out of his thoughts by a smell he hadn't noticed before, but he was closer now. He could smell the sweet aroma that was Nia. His eyes darted and locked on her, but not her eyes. He was looking at her skin. It looked delectable. So soft and-

He slammed against the far wall, cracking the concrete. He dropped to the table-like bed with fear in his eyes. "Donor was too weak, I can't be around other people right now. I'm still-" his stomach growled loud enough she had to hear it. His body had already processed the frail meat of the man from before. He could have been satisfied for a week from what he had eaten, but the tissue was not that of a healthy person.

His eyes pulsated and glowed faintly as he couldn't pull them away from her, but the look was of pain, "I don't want to hurt you." He choked out.

Nia flinched when Orion slammed intot the wall, alarmed at how fast the boy had moved. Despite her enchanced speed, it seemed like the boy was extremely fast. Night Stalkers eat Moroi, she thought with a burning sense of dread. Still, she didn't feel like she had to fear the boy. While her heart pounded with fear seeing Orion's black-red eyes, Nia could see her own fear mirrored there, different but still similar enough to know that Orion was afraid too -- of himself.

In childhood, the possibility that she was a monster had never occurred to Nia -- she'd been raised in a society where she was the definition of normal, of better than normal. When she finally learned about humans and how they were more populous than Moroi could ever hope to be, she asked herself for the first time: Was she a monster? The answer to that question had been -- after some thought -- an unsure "no." She hadn't wanted to be born as a being that lived off blood, and Moroi society had found ways of dealing with ethics through donors. Unless it was better for all Moroi to die, there was no reason why she was a monster at all.

The same applied here, to Orion. He seemed to have convinced himself that he was a monster, meaning that he wasn't raised thinking that "normal" was being whatever he was like Nia was. From what he'd told her of his past, she figured that he'd tried his best to eat decently. However monstrous as it may seem to those who didn't have to drink blood and eat flesh, Nia could empathize.

"You won't, Orion. You just ate," she told him gently, coaxing the fear out of him. "You can control this, just like you have before. Or you would have died long ago."

Slowly, hesitantly, Orion came back forward. His movement was in complete opposition to his previous motion. He was like a frightened child as he approached the bars. Without taking his eyes off of hers, he reached through this cage with one hand in offering.

****

"Yes, Your Majesty. Yes I know you said to call you 'Lissa'. Yes. Thank you, your-- Lissa." Desmond ended the call, and dialed the chancellor's office. Whether she answered or he got voicemail, he would say the same thing.

"Let's let him out."

The chancellor was a little taken aback at how quickly a decision had been made, but she didn't falter in her reply. "I'll send the guards down right away. Did you want us to wait for you, or?"

****

Nia watched as Orion approached the bars, unafraid. Her only hesitation came when she took in the boy's outstretched hand, but even that was brief. Reaching forwards, Nia took his hand with both of hers. "Nice to meet you, Orion," Nia said with a gentle smile. "You have beautiful eyes -- very distinct, very unique."

@Dusksong

Orion felt a warmth go through him that he couldn't explain. When she took his hand, for a moment, he felt safe. He forgot about the Royals and what they did to him for a second just to enjoy the touch of a beautiful girl.

"You should see your own eyes." He commented back upon her compliment.

Her hand was cool, not like the warm touch of a human hand. No, she was far from human. Perfection was out of human reach, and she seemed to embody it. His ghoulish eyes calmed to a faint glow as the bright red and pitch black became a warm red and dark, charcoal grey. And yet she smelled so wonderful. Part of him couldn't help but wonder what she tasted like. That part of him longed to devour her, bones and all. His other hand twitched ever so slightly. It wanted to grab her while she was close so that he could get just one bite. Just before he lost his composure, the entrance door to the cell block slammed open.

****

Although he had a certain level of weariness toward setting the Fallen One loose, Desmond was excited. He was anxious to learn more about the new potential enemy, for knowledge was power. And he liked having power over things. With the Chancellor informed, he returned to the cell block. He figured she would probably make her own way there. Such a figure would likely want to put eyes on this unknown beast that was about to roam her school grounds, although it was possible she had other things to do.

Des kicked the door open in a flourish of an entrance, nearly dancing down the steps to the main floor. He briskly moved over toward the cell where the two young ones had been apparently bonding and snapped his fingers at the nearest guardian.

"Come now, open his cell already, I'm sure he doesn't have all day to wait on you." He said passively, as if annoyed that they didn't already know what only Des, Dolorante, and the Queen knew. "Cordellenia, your highness, would you mind taking our new friend to administration to be registered and given living quarters? Tell them that Desmond Lloyd has approved this and to call me if there is any issue." He whipped out a small card with his information on it and held it out for her to take.

“My eyes are quite common around here,” Nia said, smiling. Acutely aware of the warmth of the boy’s hand, Nia marvelled at how warm it was compared to her own. Despite all the clamour and fear around him, he’s still closer to a human than me, she thought wryly. The cold seldom bothered her, and although she was still warmer than the ice-like strigoi, Nia knew her normal body temperature was lower than that of most living things.

Her eyes watched, transfixed, as the boy’s eyes shifted from scarlet hues and ravens to greys and reds, wondering what the colours meant. Are they perhaps indications of hunger, just as in Moroi, she thought. Her thoughts, however, were interrupted by the opening of the cell door.

---

Dolorante’s pace was brisk as she made her way down the steps and into the dungeon. Allowing a Night Stalker to roam the campus was an unheard of action in the history of the academy, but the Chancellor was willing to take the challenge there. That nervous boy is hardly the most dangerous thing on campus, she thought as she rounded the final bend. Still, precautions were to be taken — Dolorante knew that much.

Rounding the final bend, Dolorante spotted the guard moving to open the door. She nodded at Desmond as she arrived at the scene, following him into the cell after the rune-covered door was unlocked. Inside, the Conta princess was in immediate proximity of the Night Stalker, a sight that greatly surprised Dolorante.

Is she more foolish than I thought, the other female Moroi thought, frowning, or…

Seeing the two older Moroi enter, Nia straightened up in her spot and put on a small smile. The Moroi official’s words, however, changed her polite mask to one of surprise. But— Nia thought, recovering herself fast enough to take the card when it was offered. A glance at the Chancellor told the princess that Orion’s attendance was rightly sanctioned — most likely by some higher-up in the food chain that was the Moroi court. I wonder who it is that wants to see a Night Stalker amongst Moroi, she thought, pocketing the card.

“Well then, Orion. Let’s be on our way?” she asked, turning to the boy in question.

---

@TheMinorFall