Co-written with [@EvangelineMarie]
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The first orange glow of the rising sun edged steadily over the horizon, silhouetting dense pine forests against a dimly lit backdrop of the night's deep indigo as it gave way to wispy streaks of peach-stained cloud. From the tallest tower of Graafenschloss Veresegyházhof, a thick granite spire culminating in a dramatic needle point that stretched up to touch the heavens, the view was astonishingly beautiful. The fortress's owner, however, was rather less appreciative than one might expect. A black-gloved hand reached lazily out from a shadowed corner, drawing a curtain of deep crimson velvet firmly across the window, letting not even a meagre streak of sunlight filter inside. There was a satisfied exhalation, before silence hung over the room once more, punctuated only by the occasional rustling of pages being turned, accompanied by bursts of sporadic scratching from a quill pen as it danced lightly over the surface of dry parchment. A grunt of frustration cut through the quiet, and Erwyn, Count of Amstetten-Szatmár-Bereg for over eight centuries, rose from his chair, padding across the pitch black room, his vampiric eyes picking out every exquisitely crafted detail of the ornate four-poster bed that dominated the opposite wall with ease despite the gloom. As a creature of the night, he did not need sleep, of course, but the Count often found his mind refocused; rejuvenated by a short spell of rest. Lowering himself onto the soft silk sheets, Erwyn allowed his thoughts to drift away, closing his eyes as he sank into unconsciousness.
 
A sudden chill caused Count Erwyn to rise from his slumber not moments after first closing his eyes. He attempted to go back to sleep, but to no avail; try as he might, he could not shake off the chill. Climbing out of bed in an attempt to discover the source of the strange sensation, he found that the curtains of his room were blowing in the wind as if the windows of the tower were open - but how could that possibly be? He parted the curtains carefully, so as not to bathe himself in the harmful rays of the morning sun, and was shocked to see that he was no longer overlooking the pleasant expanse of pine forests his fortress once towered above. Instead, he gazed out into a chaotic and shadowy void. Jagged spires of black marble rose up from a seemingly bottomless pit, and there were no clouds in the dark sky. It was as if it was perpetually midnight, and this strange new world was dimly illuminated only by the cold light of a great white orb of magical energy high above the Count. Floating islands composed of the same black marble could also be seen in the distance, but even with his vampiric sight the Count could not make out what they were carrying. It was as if something was obscuring his vision, even though there was nothing there. Count Erwyn found this place to be simultaneously idyllic and nightmarish. He found it difficult to pry his eyes away from the window, but upon turning around his room had vanished, replaced instead by a marble platform. Confused and now stranded, the Count felt as if he was being watched. The chill he felt earlier grew stronger and stronger, increasing in intensity as the vampire sensed another being drawing closer to him. 
 
Then he saw Her, seemingly materialising from the shadows before him and levitating above the nothingness below. Her face conveyed both enchanting beauty and paralysing terror, and her perfect body was draped in revealing silks, the ends of which seemed to taper off back into the shadows, swirling and writhing in the alien air. She circled about the platform that the vampire was standing upon, studying and examining him, before her bare feet touched down on the freezing surface of the stone and she finally spoke.
 
“Welcome to my domain, Count Erwyn,” the stranger began, her enrapturing voice echoing off the surroundings and almost enthralling the man immediately, “or at the very least, a tiny pocket of it. I see that my gift has treated you well; eight hundred and thirty-four years of life is no small feat. I wonder, child of the night, how grateful are you for your vampirism?”
 
The vampire’s eyes flashed crimson as he muttered a brief incantation, clearing his mind of the intoxicating effect of the woman’s voice. Attempting to, at least – against this strange apparition, even this simple spell pushed the limits of Erwyn’s sorcery.  He was silent for a second, his gaze locked upon her own, a tiny hint of amusement creeping across his stony visage. “Your ‘gift’? Ah, I do apologise, my lady, I entirely forgot to write you a thank you letter. How careless of me. I shall do so just as soon as you return me to my castle – who might I address it to, by the way?”

The strange lady did not take too kindly to the vampire’s sarcasm; she did not bring him to her realm to be disrespected by him. Nor did she like his use of magic to counter the effects of her beauty, and even though she could dispel the man’s incantation with but a thought, she tolerated it to avoid angering him. “You will not be returning to your castle just yet, Count Erwyn,” she finally responded, “and I suspect that you already know who I am. I am the one who made you what you are today, after all.”

Erwyn took a step towards the woman, the amusement vanishing from his expression. "You interrupted a perfectly pleasant hunt, and confined me to bed for a week in rather severe discomfort. If you're trying to imply that I owe you anything for that, you are sorely mistaken. Just as you are mistaken if you believe you can faze me in the slightest with your petty tricks and childish games." He looked her straight in the eye, unblinking, holding her gaze without so much as a hint of unease.

The woman unflinchingly reciprocated the vampire’s stare, moving ever so slightly closer to him before responding. “There are no petty tricks or childish games in my realm, vampire. You know where you are, and so you know that could not possibly be the case. You may have been confined to a bed for a week, but is that not a trivial price to pay for the powers I have given you?” She did not wait for Erwyn to respond before she vanished once again into the shadows. The platform the Count was standing on suddenly began to shift and rearrange itself, with a large, obsidian throne now at its centre, upon which sat the woman. “I know that you have no love for me, Count Erwyn, nor for the many cults devoted to me throughout the world, but there is a great calamity about to befall all of existence. I have seen it, and with the disaster at Krossavik two decades ago, so too have the survivors, although given their lack of urgency in taking action I doubt that they realise the true danger of the coming storm. Do you know of what I speak?”

"Not for certain, although I trust you will permit me to make an educated guess..." Erwyn thought for a second. "Given your mention of Krossavik, I'd wager the dragon that razed that town is about to cause more trouble, correct?" Muttering a brief incantation, the vampire disappeared into thin air, only to materialise again in a dramatic puff of black smoke, perched nonchalantly on the arm of the woman's throne. He smirked. "I must say, I didn't have you down as the type to be scared by a big lizard."

Rolling her eyes in annoyance, the woman took the hand of the vampire, and the second their hands made contact his smile immediately dropped and he fell from the arm of the throne as his mind was invaded by images and visions that he struggled to make sense of. Attempting to focus on what he was seeing, he saw the Krossavik disaster unfolding before him as if he was there in the flesh. With a flash, he was now witnessing the destruction of Asmeinland at the hands of the same dragon. Amstetten, Szatmár and Bereg all burned, culminating in the total annihilation of Graafenschloss Veresegyházhof and the Count’s death. This progressed as dragon fire continued to engulf the world and the dragon began to challenge the gods themselves. Each of them fell, and the dragon stole their power. Eventually, the Count could even see the dragon rising to challenge the divinity of the goddess who was revealing all of this to him, Lilith. The visions ended there, and the Count found himself lying on the ground with the goddess standing over him. “This is the future that I have seen if I do not act now; no-one can escape this!” The goddess’s voice was no longer as enchanting as it was before, with it instead now conveying feelings of fear and concern.  “I can see no further than that, and the outcome of my eventual battle with that vile creature are completely unknown to me, so can you see now why I am scared? Why you should be scared?”

In a flash, the Count was on his feet again, calmly dusting himself off as he silently surveyed the goddess, slowly circling her as if trying to find a vulnerability in some unfortunate prey. "A very dramatic little demonstration. But, point taken, the lizard is dangerous." He stopped, just in front of her, raising a curious eyebrow. "What do you expect me to do that you could not accomplish yourself? According to you, my abilities are your 'gifts'; does it not therefore stand to reason that you would hardly be lacking in the capability to deal with this dragon?"

Lilith’s expression quickly changed to one of anger. “I cannot accomplish anything on my own because the petty gods that the mortals worship so fervently prevent me from truly entering that world! They see me as a disease, nothing more than a being of pure malice and evil, and even though they are essentially committing suicide unknowingly by preventing my intervention, they still spite me so.  Those pompous fools refuse to see reason, as to them I am only ‘The Great Deceiver’. I cannot combat this fiend alone, and I refuse to allow myself to be subject to the fate that both of us have now seen. As such I must ask you this: Will you be my champion in the mortal world? Will you fight this dragon in my name?”

Erwyn stroked his chin pensively. "I don't have much of a choice, do I? Assuming what you just showed me is true, of course, and not one of your 'Great Deceptions'."  He fixed the goddess with a suspicious glare, trying to spot the tiniest hint of dishonesty in her expression. Satisfied that there was none - none visible, at least - he gave her a slow nod. "Very well. It seems we have an accord, my darling Lilith. Now, without further ado, may I perchance return to my humble abode, that I might prepare for such undertakings?"

Lilith smiled as the Count agreed to become her champion. “This pleases me greatly, Erwyn, and of course I will now permit you to return to your castle. However, before you return, know that I intend to reward you handsomely should you complete this task. Kill this dragon for me, and power and pleasure beyond mortal reckoning will be yours. No man will be your equal.” The goddess moved back from the vampire, levitating away from the platform as it began to crumble and disintegrate around Erwyn. “Now go, kill the beast.” Lilith commanded as she vanished into the shadows. The platform continued to fall away until just Erwyn and the stone he was standing on remained, however soon that too began to dissolve. Just as he was about to fall into the nothingness below, he was back home, lying in his bed. The vampire sighed, shaking his head in exasperation as he dragged himself out of the silk sheets and walked across the hard stone floor. Sleep would have to wait. There were preparations to make.