Dakota dragged Joryldin off into the crowd, nearly tearing the sleeve from his jacket with how quickly she started. He could tell that the photo wasn’t nearly a good enough indication of just how much energy she had. This was a girl full of vigor, in total defiance to the grim world around her. It gave him a bit of hope..

“Woah, slow down! You’re gonna bowl over half the party at this rate!” He laughed a little, amused by the mental image of Dakota plowing over vampire and mage alike.

“I think the snack table’s this way. Here,” Joryldin pulled ahead of her and began expertly weaving the two of them through the maze of bodies. Aside from the distracting scent of blood and indulgence, it was little different than navigating a busy city street.

Dakota slowed the pace as Joryldin shifted from unexpected passenger to line leader, shifting smoothly through the crowds as if it were the most natural thing in the world for him. Being from a more rural area, Dakota was used to open spaces… seemed they had a while to go yet before they had mastered the art of crowd maneuvering. Trailing behind their new partner, Dakota couldn’t help but smile softly while he wasn’t looking. Something about his mood had shifted, lightened somewhat since the initial moment they met.

If Dakota hadn’t known better, the expression he wore in the brief moment during their collision looked as if all he wanted to do was crawl into a corner and cry. Now, however, he was taking the lead on some adventure fueled by the greed of a rumbling stomach. A thought suddenly occurred to Dakota as they neared the snack table, the mage stopping dead in their tracks, gripping the sleeve they held onto tighter.

“Wait… You can’t eat regular food can you? I’d feel bad if it was just me eating, we should find you something too. They have to have something around here, right?”

The vampire’s tone turned somber at the question, a grim expression all he could muster with his response.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.” Joryldin had his fill, but the miasma of debauchery still hung over his senses, and it called to him. A conflicted frown set itself in his features as his eyes returned to a melancholy grey. He didn’t dare overindulge, that would be just as bad as going hungry.

Dakota scowled in a way that only an older sibling could. Eyes squinting, the mage sidestepped around the vampire so that they were now standing face to face. Bending forward just enough so that he could not avoid the stern gaze Dakota was making, the youth shot a frustrated puff of air through their nose.

“I have two younger siblings. Devious little twins that learned to get away with everything. And do you know who they learned it from? Me. You can’t bullshit a bullshitter my friend. Now, are you gonna be honest or am I going to have to pull out my secret weapon?” It wasn’t really a weapon to speak of, but Dakota had to learn quickly how to keep the ankle biters at bay. Caring for the twins had led to the development of one of the most efficient knuckle sandwiches the world had ever known. While unconventional, and most likely socially unacceptable to use against a vampire… Dakota wasn’t really one to care.

“Hey, w-what’s this about? I told you, it’s fine.” In the brief moment their eyes aligned, Dakota was struck with an overwhelming wave of emotion. The entire weight of the struggle Joryldin had been experiencing during the night flowed between the two partners, yet Dakota found themselves unable to look away. Joryldin immediately realized what was happening, and clapped a hand over his eyes.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-” He descended into unintelligible rambling, bashful pink light leaking out from the cracks between his fingers.

Dakota inhaled sharply as the eye contact was broken, almost as if they had spent the entire time holding their breath. There was something familiar about the oppressive aura that covered them both, something that spoke to a darker past. Shaking the fogginess from their head, Dakota stepped forward and laid a gentle hand on the top of Joryldin’s head.

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t know… Why didn’t you say something, you’re miserable here. We don’t have to stay.”

“Yeah, but you were so excited… Who am I to drag you away from an awesome time?” Dakota couldn’t help but to laugh at his response, a proper deep gut laugh that left them bent over with cramps.

“I think we’re both a little too considerate for our own goods. We’re gonna get along just fine.” Righting their posture, Dakota swiped the tears from the corner of their eyes before flashing a mischievous grin.

“How about this, a happy medium? Do you want to see why I was so late?”

He didn’t like that smile on her face, it was the sort that meant trouble was on the horizon. It wasn’t as if he particularly minded a little rule breaking, after all, he was no saint himself. But since finding a home with someone so ridiculously kind, he had found himself making attempts to not be the cause of said trouble… Nevertheless, it seemed trouble always had a way of finding him wherever he went.

“Hmm… Alright, I’ll bite. What’s up?” After a moment or two, the accidental pun dawned on him, and Joryldin covered his face. “Did I seriously just say that?”

“There is absolutely no point in having pointy teeth if you aren’t allowed to make a dumb joke about it. Own that shit. Now, come on.” Looping their arm around his, Dakota snagged a small plate of unidentified snacks from the table before dragging Joryldin off to a less populated corner of the courtyard.

Looking around cautiously, Dakota placed their food aside carefully and pulled the small drone out of their jacket pocket. Holding it out between the two, Dakota inspected the machine to be sure the fall from earlier hadn’t damaged any of the important parts. Her partner patiently observed, not making a peep.

Finding everything to be intact, Dakota slipped the controls from their other pocket and flicked the switch to life, the small drone whirling to life in the palm of their hand. Gently tossing it upward, the drone dipped a foot before correcting itself, ready to be directed by the device in Dakota’s hands. Reaching into the smaller breast pocket of the jacket, Dakota produced the earpiece they had been wearing earlier, adjusting it to preference on the left ear.

“It’s got a little ways to go before its complete, still a few features I want to add but I think it’s turning out alright so far. I want to get it to the point where it doesn’t necessarily need direct supervision or manual direction. Hence the earpiece… So far it can only tell me where it is though, but I’ll get it eventually.”

“You made this yourself? That’s awesome!” Joryldin’s eyes shifted back to an excited gold, and he paced around the little floating machine, inspecting its construction.

“How’d you pull it off? I don’t think I recognize any of those parts.”

“You like? The main body was just your average helicopter toy I got for christmas when I was younger. I never liked how limited you were with those though. So I started taking apart older toys and dead cell phones to use their parts… This is version nuuuumbeeeer…. six! Yeah, this is the sixth version, and so far, my favorite. It’s a lot more responsive than the original and capable of flying farther from its remote, both height and distance. Eventually I’m going to install a camera and an auto pilot feature so I can mess with people from a safe distance.”

Joryldin stifled a laugh, pressing his knuckles up against his teeth to keep quiet.

“Oh geez, I see why you wanted to keep it a secret. You’re gonna drive people crazy with this thing, aren’t you?!”

“That’s the plan.” Dakota responded with a grin, laughing a bit as they set to powering the device down. Once the piece had been properly tucked away, Dakota turned back to Joryldin.

“So what now? Did you want to take a look around the grounds or something?”

Joryldin took a look at his watch, and his eyes slowly drifted to a muted crimson. With a sorrow filled sigh, he gave Dakota an apologetic look and said,

“The sun’s gonna be up in a little while, so I’ve got to go. I’ll meet you inside I guess.” The boy turned to make his way toward the dorms, not able to get very far before Dakota was at his side. Haphazardly stuffing food into their face, the mage walked silently beside the vampire as a silent protest to him wandering off on his own.

Varis watched the crowd, passingly thankful it afforded him a few minutes to think, as he considered his partner. Aaron Starag. Any vampire with a few hours of education knew of the Starags. The lineage of Landar Starag, both the man who signed away mortal kind’s freedom five centuries past and its fiercest protestor, bent its knee to the Noilas since the signing and the royal family kept it to themselves, circulating it from branch family to branch family to keep the gene pool fresh. He tapped his fingers against the glass and ran his fingers through his hair again. Passing a Starag to another family under the guise of an Academy student. Either his Lady somehow won the Queen’s affections, which his Lady viciously rallied against, or the Queen finally tired of the family’s attitude and was attempting to reign in their independence. An expensive chain indeed.

The blond gave it away first. He watched as the Starag made his way and kept his distance before bowing. His movements shone with well practiced elegance. The Noilas certainly taught him well. He sipped at the drink in his hand and a fun thought slipped through his head. The mage had been sent away from the royal family to serve a lesser house, a noble one yes but not the royal family, so it was only fitting to test his loyalty in this situation. He glanced to his right, sipping at his drink as he took in the mages who attended the Princess during her speech that had been left behind at the edge of the courtyard. He smiled briefly, wicked and sharp, before turning an appraising look to the young Starag. If the Princess wanted the Starag in his possession, so be it.

“You have been trained well.” Varis spoke, his words slow and measured. Language held as much power as mages welded when applied properly and Varis was loathe to misuse it. He snapped his fingers once and pointed to the spot in front of him. “Kneel.”

The mage's face fell just a tick; most wouldn't have noticed the change, but one with an eye for it could tell something troubling passed behind his eyes, however briefly. He hesitated for a beat or two, visibly swallowed, but then took a deep breath and stepped forward, face now somewhat more serious. He then fluidly sank to one knee, resting his elbow on the other, head lowered, eyes downcast. The scabbard on his hip came to rest on the stone behind him. He didn't say a word.

Varis watched silently as it played out. The mage knelt, still precise and fluid but more hesitantly than his earlier bow, and Varis reached out, brushing his fingers gently down the mage’s cheek then lightly but firmly gripped the boy's jaw. The vampire tilted his face up until their eyes met and Varis carefully held back his compulsion as he took a moment to just look. The Noilas truly outdid themselves in preserving Landar’s line and this boy practically glowed. All golds and blues, from his hair to his eyes to his clothes. He turned the mage’s face one way and another, making a show of examining him. When he tilted them towards the Princess’s mages, he held the Starag in that position and took a long sip from his nearly empty glass, watching Aaron’s reaction to seeing members of the Noila household watching him.

“I find it interesting, a Noila giving up a most precious resource. I wonder how you failed.” He wondered aloud and held Aaron’s position a moment more before releasing him. “How long would it take to have a new sword forged? I'm not sure I'm fond of my servant wearing Noila gifts.”

---

Max followed Joryldin's movements with his eyes for a bit as the vampire stormed off, brow furrowed in contemplation and the barest hint of surprise. He quickly composed himself back into his usual outward apathy as he diverted his attention back to the ground in front of him, lest he accidentally attract another conversational partner.

"Maxwell Alderman? I'm Morrigan Cade, pleasure to meet you."

Now that caught his attention. The only vampiric conversational partner he'd ever have to have, should he play his cards right. Max looked up at the new holder of his metaphorical leash, gaze lingering on Morrigan's outstretched hand long enough to show that he had, in fact, seen it and no, he wasn't going to shake it. His eyes trailed upward and stopped just short of eye contact, instead focusing a bored, lidded stare at Morrigan's cheeks.

The other boy looked true to his picture - still crumpled in Max's hand - albeit a tad more cleaned up. He was smiling, which meant he was at the very least pretending to be friendly. That could be deceiving, however, and this could very well end up like Max's last vampiric encounter. He hated loose cannons. A soft partner would be ideal, in theory, but that last vampire really irked him in a manner he couldn't quite put his finger on. He was so... pathetic. Max couldn't handle being dragged down by that constant weakness, even if it would make his life easier. Deep down, there was a part of him that would've enjoyed having some demeaning lordling partner to rail against, to keep the hatred in his heart alive and burning.

"Uh-huh," he started, voice unenthusiastic but not outright dismissive, "What exactly are you expecting out of me besides a meal? I'd like to know what I'm going to be responsible for. Minimizes nagging."

---

@HecateProxy

Where the Count's initial compliment had first swelled him with pride, the following command twisted Aaron's gut in knots. The feeling - a mixture of surprise, dread, and confusion - showed on his face; a flicker of apprehension passed behind his eyes. He stiffened at the command, chest tight, and felt his heart rate quicken.

Don't be foolish! He scolded himself, taking a deep breath to stretch his chest and quell the jitters in his stomach. It was true, he was acting like a fool. Come on, it wasn't as if he'd be the first mage in the world to kneel to his master. Not to mention the fact that this was still a vampire of noble station, and regardless, he was Aaron's superior. There was dignity in service, he reminded himself. Nobody could shame him for doing his job and doing it well.

With this in mind, Aaron stepped forward to the spot the Count had pointed to (a little more solemn this time, thoroughly chastened by the command despite his inner reasoning) and gracefully and obediently sank to one knee. His scabbard settled itself on the cool stones behind him, brass-tipped point making a soft ting as it touched down. Aaron kept his eyes downcast, head down but not relaxed. He could feel the Count's eyes on him every step of the way, the sensation giving him goosebumps despite his best efforts. For a few seconds, he was still and silent.

Aaron very nearly flinched when the vampire's cool fingers made contact with his cheek, brushing softly down to where they took a firmer hold of his jaw. As his face was lifted and examined, Aaron offered no resistance; still, his traitorous heart thundered in his chest, quickening ever more when his cerulean eyes met the amber ones of the vampire he'd be dedicating his life to.

The Count turned Aaron's face this way and that, a little too openly to be innocent. Despite the stream of reasoning in his head, Aaron felt deeply violated as he was examined; the Count wasn't just looking over him, he was making an example of him.

The dread crept from Aaron's heart into his head when Varis turned his head to face William and Sariel, whom Aaron had not noticed when he first approached the fountain. His stomach twisted as he looked helplessly on, not daring to pull away but agonizing over the pained expressions on the faces of his childhood mentors; William kept his usual stoic front, but Aaron knew him well enough to notice the irritation in his eyes, and Sariel was very visibly uncomfortable, looking more sad than angry. They both actively avoided looking at him, their long-time student, reduced to a display of subservience on the cobblestone. Aaron's eyes flicked uneasily between them, and he thanked the powers that be that his mother wasn't here to see this. She'd always dreamed of the day he'd bow his head to a Noila vampire; seeing him on his knees for a Sinnenodel would break her heart. So much for dignity.

“I find it interesting, a Noila giving up a most precious resource. I wonder how you failed.”

The Count's comment landed like a punch to Aaron's gut. Suddenly, every vicious thing he'd ever heard whispered about the Sinnenodels in the walls of Noila castle sprang to mind, as did every self-doubt he'd lost sleep over in the weeks since his invitation to the Academy. Failure, disappointment, not fit to serve the family he so dearly loved... Unprepared, his head dropped limply when Varis finally released him, snapping him out of his toxic reverie.

Back in the present, Aaron steadied his head immediately (couldn't just let it hang limp like a prisoner), jaw clenched, blinking rapidly as he kept his eyes - glowing faintly golden in places from the agitation - firmly trained on the ground.

“How long would it take to have a new sword forged? I'm not sure I'm fond of my servant wearing Noila gifts.”

Aaron didn't dare answer, but his right hand twitched toward his scabbard. He could see the sword clearly in his mind, with its brassy mirror finish and its pommel in the shape of the rising sun; it was a precious gift he'd been given on his Awakening day, and arguably his most valued possession. It was also a conduit for his magic, and he'd be devastated if he were to lose it.

Aaron remained still and silent on his knees, heart thundering in his ears, but beginning to slow. He couldn't sit there and shake like a frightened child. He had a reputation to uphold, both for his own family and the royal family. Be it for diplomacy or because he'd somehow failed them that he had been thrust into this position, Aaron still had to hold himself to that standard. He'd trained his whole life until this point to serve well; now was the time to prove it.

@Achronum

---

"A meal? Definitely not a meal, maybe a snack if I’m being generous."

A snack. A snack. What the hell. Was this belittlement or flirtation? Max's brow knotted in perplexion as his mind raced to sort out whether the comment was some variety of vampiric eccentricity or just a poorly-executed icebreaker, but he didn't interrupt. Not that he had a chance to, Morrigan suddenly seemed hurried in his words.

"Anyway, what I expect is very little. If you think I want to feed on you—you’re mistaken, but after today they’ll cut my supply off. So it’s not like either of us have a choice in that matter. But if it helps we’ll shoot to make it as minimal as possible. Other than that I expect you to focus on your studies and for us to somehow make it through whatever the academy throws our way."

Max let out a nonchalant hum as the other boy finished, having composed himself while Morrigan was talking. Assuming this vampire was being honest - which, of course, Max never does without at least the slightest suspicion - he seemed tolerable. Averse to treating mages like cattle, but pragmatic enough to not starve himself like that last vampire. He must be newly turned. Or just squeamish about where his food comes from. Max wondered if pulsing jugulars were the vampiric equivalent of those gross videos of how chicken nuggets are made.

"That works just fine for me, provided you hold yourself to the same standards. I don't think I'd be able to handle trailing dead weight around - excuse the pun." His voice was flat and humorless, but the joke stood regardless.

"You done with this party, or am I gonna have the privilege of watching you have a million thrilling conversations about Lady So-And-So's dress with these gossiping hens?" He swept his arm out in a wide gesture across the courtyard for effect, face still as impassive as ever. He didn't look particularly impatient to leave aside from his overall aloofness, but he certainly didn't look invested in staying either. There was a genuine quesion in there, somewhere.

---

@HecateProxy

With the sun approaching fast and his senses at their breaking point, Jorylin excused himself from his partner's company and walked down the street towards their lodge. Number four of the common housing, if he recalled correctly. About halfway there, Dakota caught up with him, munching on some sort of stuffed pastry balls. Maybe doughnut holes? Not likely, it had to be something fancier. She didn't say anything, and considering how tense the whole night had been so far, a quiet walk was VERY welcome. They reached their house after a couple of minutes and Joryldin fished his key out of the envelope. He turned the lock with a satisfying click and turned back to give Dakota a small smile as he opened the door.

"Wow... I don't think I've ever seen an apartment this nice."

He gestured for her to come take a look, then instantly disappeared. All the lights turned on, as did the TV. A grey blur rushed past her and the bedroom doors flew open. The fridge opened and shut instantly, and a game console appeared under the TV. When the blur finally became slow enough for human eyes to see, Joryldin stood there in sweatpants and a grey hoodie, two sizes too big. He gave her a description of the room then said,

"I'll take the room on the left since it's smaller. I don't have much."

He pulled the curtains aside, freeing the windows.

"I'm gonna head to bed... You enjoy the sunrise, ok?"

‘Excellent composure.’ Varis thought to himself as Aaron suffered silently. He felt the boy’s jaw clench when he faced the other mages. A quick glance at the pair spoke volumes. The tense set of the man's shoulders and the rigidness of his posture. The woman's averted eyes and the uncomfortable shuffling. They knew him well enough for this display to be offensive. It sent a thrill through him that the blood barely bested. He hoped this story would grace their mistress's ear this evening. Help her realize what a poor decision she made. ‘Unless she didn’t care about him.’ Varis mused.

Still, the boy proved even more entertaining. The widening of his eyes at the thought of his disgrace and the twitch of his fingers at the mention of his sword told the vampire volumes. That, and the mage's spectacular dedication to his servitude, confirmed the boy wasn't given to him as a punishment. The uncertainty of his situation left the mage vulnerable and his sword, as well as whatever precious little he has, is what acts as a reminder that he was valuable. Why would they waste resources on him otherwise? Take away his precious treasures and all he has left is the uncertainty of his worth. Varis made a mental note about the vulnerability and looked down at the mage, noting he managed to center himself again. The boy was well on his way to impressing the young Sinnenodel. Definitely not a failure.

“Stand.” Varis spoke as he stood himself, drinking the last sip left in his glass and placed it down on the fountain's edge. It was likely the last time fhe would have the opportunity to enjoy that particular brand for some time. He waited a moment as Aaron stood, noting the mage stood two or three inches taller than him, before walking away. He expected the mage to follow without being told.

“While we are out, you may address me as Count Varis unless it is a formal event. While we are in private, you may drop my title. I will not require your presence at all times but I expect to be made aware of your activities so I may find you when I need you. Do you have a phone?” Varis spoke as they walked,leading them away from the courtyard. The vampire already made the social rounds and was eager to leave. He had one more piece of business to attend to before his evening was over. “What type of education have you received from the Noilas? What do you know about the noble families?”

The few beats of stillness after the vampire's barrage were eerily calm for Aaron. He was acutely aware of the coolness of the cobblestones under his knee, the shifted weight of the sword on his hip, how the envelope in his jacket was folding as he knelt. He still felt the weight of the vampire's eyes on him, but he remained firm.

Of course, that isn't to say that it wasn't a huge relief when the command to stand finally came. Aaron gratefully rose once he could see that Varis had done so, taking note of the final appraising look he was given before his charge turned heel and started away. Aaron followed without hesitation, falling mercifully back into his comfort zone. Kneeling had been a challenge, but following he could do.

He took the opportunity, with Varis' back turned, to run his hand over the hilt and handle of his sword, still a little shaken from the Count's comment, before folding his hands behind his back once more, fiddling with his ring as he did so. He took note of the speed at which the vampire walked, and how he hardly had to pause to weave through the crowd; on the contrary, really. The crowd seemed to open up for him, and it was blissfully easy to travel in his wake. Aaron felt more comfortable with each step, the anxiety of his earlier display fading as he spent more and more time on his feet.

He listened intently as Varis rattled off his expectations (all of which seemed perfectly reasonable) and asked his questions, waiting until the Count had finished his line of inquiry before answering.

"I do have a phone, yes." Aaron replied, "As for my education, I am pleased to say it has been quite thorough. I've received all of the academic education expected of me from the finest teachers. I've learned extensive court and service etiquette and also received comprehensive training in the areas of magic and swordsmanship from the finest instructors the Noilas have to offer. As of now, I am a capable swordsman and am gaining understanding and rudimentary control of my affinity." As he rattled off his accomplishments, Aaron felt more and more like himself again. He wasn't bragging, but he spoke with the well-practiced confidence of a person who had been taught to be humble but wasn't willing to sell himself short. Graciousness was paramount, but it was rude to preach one's shortcomings.

"As for the noble families," he continued, "Formally, I learned as much as anyone else, albeit in much closer detail than most. Informally, I know that your esteemed house is growing substantially in wealth, gaining ground on the Astorios every day; I know your Lady has expressed her distaste for the recent proposal to amend Mage breeding rights, and that your family had a recent court victory when they were granted an amendment to mortal taxation; speaking of which, it would seem that more than one family has House Eve in their pocket - rumour has it they're fit to collapse any day, and no wonder, what with their continued struggle to determine a line of succession." Aaron tried hard to stunt the grin threatening on his lips, and he walked taller with every step; living in the ruling family's midst had its perks, and noble gossip was certainly one of them. "Shall I go on?"

---

"You have to admit, she did look stunning."

Max rolled his eyes with an unamused grunt. Playfulness was so hard to gauge with vampires. They could be toying with you, or they could be toying alongside you. The leech even had the audacity to wink.

"But, I only came here for you. So, no, I have no desire to talk to more people I don’t know than I have too. Ready to go see where we’re staying for the next some odd years?"

Max responded with only a hum of acknowledgement, following wordlessly behind Morrigan for the time being as the vampire took his leave. The mage had tugged his tie down into a comfortable looseness and was working on unbuttoning his collar before they'd even fully cleared the courtyard - decorum be damned.

It took some time before he finally spoke up, tone hushed and - surprise, surprise - bored. "You don't have any annoying domestic habits, do you? Can't imagine our living space will be particularly big. I don't think vampires can snore, but..." His voice trailed off as his gaze shifted away in contemplation, as if he were actually scouring his brain for some vampiric behavior that reasonably pissed him off. There were plenty of irrational things, sure, but that wouldn't hold up under scrutiny, and he needed to present himself as being level-headed and in control of the situation whenever possible.

He opted for a simple shrug to finish his statement, playing it off as intentionally open-ended. Let the vampire's mind fill in a mental list of idiosyncrasies, maybe he'd get sloppy and reveal too much.

---

@HecateProxy

---

---

Idle chatter buzzed all throughout the courtyard, droning alongside the distant melody of a string quartet. Minfilia admired the entertainment from a distance, seated alongside the fountain at the centre of the courtyard. The piece was marvellous, a true testament of fine craftsmanship. Ivory marble came to life under the moonlight, creating a well-lit spectacle that drew the gaze as soon as one entered the courtyard. It was dressed in hand woven wreathes of white roses, yellow geraniums and lavender for the event. Minfilia, always one to appreciate the finer beauties in life, had chosen to sit and admire the floral arrangements.

Minfilia had also dressed up for the occasion. Adorned in a silver, strapless gown with a silken shawl draped elegantly around her bare shoulders. Matching gloves reached up to her elbows, a corsage of silver roses wrapped around her left wrist. Pinned to her shawl was a small brooch of a blue jay. A parting gift from her father. The young lady’s hair had been neatly braided and allowed to drape over her left shoulder and down to her waist. Adorned throughout the braids were the same roses as her corsage. Under the light of the night sky, her hair possessed a most wonderous gleam. She watched her own reflection in the water fountain, entranced by the ripples distorting her visage as rose petals gently fell to the surface.

The music had petered out to a stifling silence, the courtyard hushed with the arrival of Princess Ryner. Standing from her position, Minfilia gazed upon her magnificence. Power emanated from the princess. It was intoxicating to the young mage. They were from separate worlds, with too many years between them to count. And yet, Minfilia saw herself in the princess. Or rather, she saw who she desired to become. That was why she was here at Noila Academy. This place, and the vampire she would be groomed to serve, would be nothing but stepping stones to something much greater.

Speaking of her mysterious vampire partner, Minfilia gazed down to the envelope in her hand as the princess concluded her welcoming speech. Bodies began to shuffle around the courtyard as the partners became acquainted with each other. Some were far more accommodating to the arrangements than others. Minfilia was in no rush, so she took her preferred seat by the fountain and crossed one leg over the other. Her hands delicately unsealed the envelope, revealing a photo and name of her partner.

“Amaris Marivaldi.” Minfilia’s lips curled into a smile. A noble. Perfect. Amaris was, as expected, an absolutely stunning mistress. Minfilia couldn’t help but feel a little envious at the flawless complexion and gorgeous locks of black hair. As far as she was concerned, being paired with a noble from the Marivaldi bloodline was a stroke of pure luck. She had heard rumours of their more diplomatic nature, treating Mage’s with respect and as equals. Perhaps this Amaris lady would share such an open-minded disposition?

Minfilia’s smile faded. She shook her head. That was irrelevant. No matter how kind her partner might be – she wasn’t here to make friends. Besides, it would be naïve to assume someone’s personality based on their family name. Being the daughter of an esteemed and well-respected mage, Minfilia knew that all too well.

After a few minutes had passed and the partners began to set off, Minfilia decided it was time to search for Amaris. She stood up, making her way across the courtyard with the photo of her future companion in hand. Thankfully, it wasn’t hard to pick her out among the dwindling crowd. The photo really did not do her justice. Minfilia found herself practically gawking at the undead beauty.

“P-pardon my intrusion.” Minfilia stuttered, clearing her throat and regaining her composure with a deep breath.
“You are Amaris Marivaldi, are you not?” This time her voice was clearer, though she could still feel her hand shaking a little. Delicately crossing one foot in front of the other, Minfilia held her arms out with the palms of her hands facing the ground. With a simple bow of her head, she knelt into a formal curtsey.

“My name is Minfilia von Reinhertz. From this night, I am at your service.” Minfilia rose, her tone assured and regal. She believed that first impressions set the course of an entire relationship – especially so tonight, where the rest of her life would be decided.

---

---

The two guards at the foot of the stairs leading up to Noila Academy had only just began to relax their stoic postures with the realisation that the ceremony was well under way. The light from the lanterns created a warm glow at the top of the steps, the distant voice of Princess Ryner’s speech reaching even all the way down to them. So, when one final horse drawn carriage began making its way up the path, the guards were understandably confused. Late arrivals at such an event were unheard of – social suicide among the elite upper crust who had nothing better to do than bicker amongst themselves about such things. Whoever had the audacity to do such a thing would be off to a bad start at the academy.

The carriage came to a halt in front of the guards. The servant who held the reigns made their way around to open the door and lower the steps. After a few moments, a tall man slick, oiled hair and a trimmed, grey beard exited the carriage. He looked to be about in his fifties, but built very well despite appearances. Though on closer inspection, one would find his face lacked any distinguishing wrinkles or blemishes that would be a tell-tale sign of middle age. Dressed in a finely tailored black suit with a single red rose pinned to his lapel, the beast of a man clearly had fine taste. The guards, recognising him as Bayard Astorio, quickly straightened up and resumed their post.

Bayard stepped forward, handing a slip of paper with his son’s hand-written admission to the event in hand. Signed personally by the princess herself; proof of its authenticity. The guards stepped aside, one preparing the envelope which had ‘Dominique Astorio’ elegantly printed on it. Bayard took it from his hand, turning back to the carriage with a scowl.

“You’ve tried my patience enough this evening, boy. To me, at once.” He growled. His very presence was suffocating. Another figure slowly made their way from the carriage. Dominique possessed the same towering height as his father, but none of the brawn. In contrast, he was actually quite lanky and awkward looking. His hair had been haphazardly combed, clear signs of a struggle to get the lad to sit still. He wore a red, button up top with the first few buttons left open to reveal an amulet engraved with the Astorio insignia against his chest. He had matching cufflinks, and a chain bracelet on his right wrist. He wore black trousers, secured with a brown leather belt that sported a silver buckle. He held a matching jacket over his slouched shoulders. His lazy posture coupled with a permanent scowl made it quite clear he was not in the mood to be paraded around at some party.

Fearful of drawing more of his father’s ire, Dominique did as he was told and approached the guards. Bayard shoved his son’s envelope into his chest, jabbing his finger where the boy’s heart was.
“I’m warning you, boy. You do anything more to tarnish my name and I will personally present Lord Peiron with your head on a silver platter.” Bayard Astorio did not make idle threats. Even through the cold stillness of undeath, Dominique was shaken to the core.
“Yes sir.” He spoke through grit teeth, imagining how satisfying it would be to bite out his father’s jugular. He snatched the envelope away before making his way up the steps in large strides. He didn’t bother to look back, knowing not to expect some bittersweet farewell.

Upon reaching the top of the steps, the princess had only just concluded her speech. People began opening their envelopes. Vampires eagerly searched for their partners while the Mages prayed to whatever deity they believed in for a benevolent master. Dominique tore open the top of his envelope, staring at the picture of his Mage with a disgusted grimace.

Cassandra Roth. From the picture alone, Dominique felt disappointment. She didn’t look like much. He had hoped his pet would have a fiercer look about them. The idea of sicking his mage on people like a rabid mutt was most amusing. This Cassandra girl looked like she couldn’t hurt a fly. He groaned, tightening his fist around the picture until he’d screwed it up into a ball. Dropping it at his feet he began to look for some refreshments.

Dominique approached a waiter serving champagne flutes of a red, viscous blend. Before he could reach them however, he noticed a familiar looking young woman beginning to approach him. He stared at her for a moment, not having studied his picture well enough to recognise her as Cassandra Roth. Albeit dressed far differently from her photo.
“Oh, it’s you.” He sighed. What a ridiculous get up. Dominique, barely paying attention to his mage, tapped the waiter on the shoulder and grabbed a glass from his tray. With his spare hand, he callously threw his jacket over Cassandra and began to walk away.
“I’m not in the mood for partying tonight.” He swirled his drink a little in his hand, taking a hefty swig that nearly downed the entire contents. Tonight’s selection was especially well fortified. Princess Ryner really went all out.
“Hurry up and escort me to my quarters.” He stared back at Cassandra expectantly, his voice growing more agitated. He’d hoped this one wasn’t as daft as she looked. Just his luck to be paired with a simpleton.

---

"Man, I miss that first cup of coffee in the morning. Watching the sun peak up above the sky line."

Interesting. Morrigan was, indeed, a new vampire; he didn't have the century or so of experience in twisting his words like purebloods did. He was a boy trying to bridge a gap with his new partner, not carefully choosing his words to further his latest machinations. Max could let his guard down. Slightly.

"I’m sure as long as we keep our main messes to our own rooms, neither of us should have too much of an issue with the living arrangement."

"You're in luck. I've been told I come off as bitter," Max began, voice a tad lighter than before but still flat and unenthusiastic, "If I taste like that too, you might just get to pretend my neck is a coffee mug." Briefly, the corner of his mouth quirked into what might've been the beginnings of a grin, then promptly flattened itself out. His eyes abruptly narrowed in distaste as he diverted his gaze downward, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he shrunk into a more withdrawn stance.

"Do whatever you want, just don't be too irritating. Messes don't bother me until they get in my way. And don't expect any pity from me because you traded caffeine for a place in the ruling caste." His miniscule attempt at affability earlier had faded, but he hadn't reached outright hostility. Despite his ire toward the situation itself, he was stuck with the vampire for likely his entire life. Pointless antagonism would accomplish nothing, if not be a detriment to his position overall. He exhaled audibly at the conclusion of his snappish statement, relaxing into a comfortable aloofness again.

---

@HecateProxy

Looking out across the sea of people, Amaris took note of some of the other personalities she would be spending the next few years with. The natural born vampires were the first to blend in, flocking together to gossip and network, quick to solidify alliances before the classes had even begun. Having been apart of upper society for as long as they had, their etiquette (while not always perfect) was refined and reflective of their status. She wouldn’t deny the benefits of such a move, but she had a personal belief that such binds were shallow and easily corrupted. One false move and the entire group could be turned against one another.

Mages were a far more interesting group to watch, coexisting with differences as plain as night and day even between one another. Some seemed uncertain of themselves, anxious about their newfound position and purpose within society. Amaris could understand their apprehension, after all, it couldn’t be easy to have one’s life affected in such major ways. Others, however, seemed right at home. Those she assumed to be acclimated to vampiric life prior to attending Noila academy, perhaps born to mages with family assignments. Their origins were inconsequential to Amaris, all she could hope for was that their studies would be fruitful and their partnerships beneficial.

She had to stifle a laugh as her eyes trailed after a particular child barreling through the crowd with the grace of an ox, only to topple as they reached the edges of the crowd. After a brief interaction with the person they had bumped into, it became clear to Amaris that it was another pair coming together for the first time. Attention shifted to the boy, a twinge of sadness staying her excitement. Clearly he was a vampire but he was nothing at all like her. He stuck out like a sore thumb, a quivering and almost sickly looking boy despite his physiology.

An Embraced. Amaris sighed internally, fighting the urge to shake her head. While Amaris herself had nothing against those that had once been human, the mere thought of what they had to go through in order to gain immortality was enough to make her ill. She couldn’t help but to wonder if he had asked for such a life or if it had been forced upon him due to forces outside his control. The young noble turned her eyes away as the two made their way back through the crowd and toward the tables of food. It was not up to her to feel pity, what right did she have to impose her sadness onto the boy? For all she knew, he was perfectly content with his situation or had long since come to terms with the changes at hand.

A shimmer of gold out of the corner of her eye pulled Amaris’ attention away from the partygoers, the vampire turning to greet the newcomer as she made her approach. She recognized the human immediately from the picture that had been provided, the beauty untarnished in the pale lighting. If there was one thing Amaris had to admit, there was something additionally enchanting about seeing Minfillia in person; a grace in movement that a still frame could not possibly capture. Though, if she had to gauge from the mage’s reaction, a similar realization had been reached by the young woman.

“P-pardon my intrusion.” Minfillia was polite in her approach, careful to announce herself should she be interrupting a conversation of some kind. It was pretty obvious that Amaris had been standing on her own, but there was something to be said about the attention to etiquette and social standard. Amaris allowed a light smile to brighten her features, something soft and welcoming but not so overly friendly so as to give away the excitement bubbling up inside her.

“You are Amaris Marivaldi, are you not?” Amaris was impressed with how quick the mage was to recover, having started off wide eyed and shaky of voice, Minfillia now presented herself with the poise and grace Amaris had come to expect only from her own kind. Her bow was a simple one but it was precise and spoke to practiced precision. It wasn’t a large leap to assume that this particular woman had grown up close to vampires. She showed no fear in the presence of what would be considered the world’s top predator, nor did she seem daunted by the chasm society dictated were between them. Mere moments after meeting and Amaris already found herself impressed with the human that stood before her.

“My name is Minfillia von Reinhertz. From this night, I am at your service.” And there it was, the confirmation of classical training. Amaris had no doubts this woman had spent her entire life leading up to a moment like this, practicing her poise and mannerisms in a way that best served the situation at hand. It was not an easy thing to do and Amaris had witnessed many a pureblood struggle to show the decorum this human had mastered at such a young age.

Sensing the girl was finished with her introductions Amaris nodded her head back in acceptance of Minfillia’s courtesy, the same soft smile lightening her eyes to a sparkling lavender.

“Minfillia von Reinhertz you may be, but at my service you are not. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” The last thing Amaris needed, or even wanted for that matter, was a servant. Noila academy was one of the few places a mage and a vampire could be considered the same. Both she and Minfillia were students with studies and jobs of their own; co-enhabitors, not master and servant. There was still a long way to go before they could be considered anything close to friends, but Amaris wanted to be clear that there was nothing but friendliness to be found in their partnership… or rather she hoped.

“Please, allow me to introduce myself properly.” Without stooping her posture, Amaris gently lifted Minfillia’s hand in her own.

“I am Countess Amaris of the house Marivaldi, daughter of the late Lord Ralmevik. I am looking forward to working alongside you in these coming years.” Her words flowed from her lips as naturally as the air flowed, a light and airy sound that spoke to the pride of family lineage rather than the arrogance of status. Having concluded her sentence, she lightly kissed the back of Minfillia’s hand before freeing the appendage back to the control of its owner.

“Your surname, I believed I recognized it. If I am not mistaken, your family has been rather influential in our society. The current lord of my house has spoken highly of Viktor’s accomplishments… Ah, but I’m sure the last thing you want to talk about is someone else’s work. How about you tell me a bit about yourself on the walk over to the dorms, unless you have some unfinished business to attend to first?” Amaris was in no particular hurry and was fully prepared to operate at Minfillia’s preferred speed for the night. Her attention to the response was stolen, however, by a familiar voice from somewhere behind her.

She turned her body just enough so that she could see without turning her back to her conversation partner, her smile dwindling to a straight-faced scowl. The lightness of lavender gave way to the harsh cold of amethyst and her posture became slightly more rigid, unnoticeable to the untrained eye but a clear sign of discomfort to those who knew how to read her body language.

Count Varis. The name, even unspoken, left a sour taste in her mouth. She had only met him on a couple of occasions but it had been enough for her to begin actively avoiding him. Amaris despised the way he carried himself, nose high as if he was better than the rest of the world. The relationship between his family and the rest of the noble houses had been strained at best, their love for heated debate the source of many a conflict between the families. Their intellectual might was something to be admired but their application is what made them difficult to work with. It wasn’t just the antagonistic behaviors that irritated her, however, as they were just as easily ignored as engaged. Her aggravation was directed at the treatment of their mages, varied but almost always poorly. Even now she had to bite her tongue from lashing out as she watched the interaction between him and the mage assigned to him.

Had the blatant disrespect gone on any longer, Amaris might not have been able to hold herself back, her visage slowly darkening the longer her eyes bore into the side of Varis’ head. But after what seemed like an eternity the mage, who carried a decorated sword upon his side, was allowed back on his feet. Just like Minfillia, the mage appeared to have been tutored in some way prior to enrollment, but there were some major differences between them. She couldn’t be sure without further investigation, but Amaris was fairly certain she knew who the young man was.

As Varis and the mage departed from the scene, Amaris filed the information away to look into at a later date. She had more important things to attend to than stirring up trouble on the first night at the academy, turning her full attention back to Minfillia with a strained smile.

“Shall we?”

Arianna Dracul Eve

---

Arianna almost grinned at the sound of Lilie catching herself in her words, virtually able to smell the nervousness emanating from the mage girl as if it was a sort of perfume. Not that the smell of the blood pumping underneath the girl's veins wasn't somewhat intoxicating enough, her favorite flavor of element even at least! Predatory thoughts oozed into Arianna's mind as she pondered the matter for a second internally, the thought of caressing Lilie's neck with her fangs, pulling her into a sensual embrace....mmm, but soon these thoughts were mentally shaken off much like an aristocrat of old might have easily shaken off the presence of a pest. No no no, that would not do right now. For her darling Lilie, she needed to treat her well! Oh, and she was so adorably meek-seeming as well...so cute how she struggled to make eye contact!

But yes, they would have to work on that confidence in the future, hmm....well, that was to be thought about and meted out in the years to come. No immense rush here.

The vampiress let her hand gently leave Lilie's hair, the last few strands falling from her fingertips softly before she turned to face the Water Mage. Arianna's smile has shifted into a soft, gentle sort of expression, yet regal and proper in its airs all the same. It wasn't the look one might give a pet, instead being like the manner in which one might look upon a valued partner or a good friend. Before she spoke, Arianna let a small chuckle escape her lips as well after briefly examining Lilie. Albiet, she did notice others beginning to leave for their dorms. Ah.

"It is ok, my darling. Such an occasion as this can easily warrant a spot of nervousness coursing in the veins of those with a beating heart. My mother did note such things about her own experience, when she was stil around...." Arianna said, her words flowing off the tongue as sweet as honey, yet as softly as soft footfalls sneaky about in the night, though all of it was rather genuine in tone to boot, though the light pause after mentioning her mother seemed....off, like it had something behind it that only flashed visible briefly for Lilie to see before the vampiress continued, "Ah, but come, let us away to our dorm, get adjusted and have a bit of conversation as it were. Perhaps it would help with any nerves you might have to get some practice! And perhaps as we walk there, you can tell me more about yourself first? I would be most interested to hear about you~"

With her sweeping words and a grand gesture, Arianna then began to walk at a modest pace, gesturing for Lilie to follow alongside her so they could converse.

@Hero

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@Crusader Lord

Listening to the mage rattle off his accomplishments mattered little to Varis. He picked out key words and phrases but ignored the superfluous chatter. He would have to teach the mage to speak concisely. Displaying a modest command of language was for a purpose, to disorient and befuddle, not to report. The boy would learn quickly once Varis taught him.

But the pride. He could hear it swell with every word and it made him itch to tear the mage down. Down until the boy begged for mercy and Varis could piece him bit by bit back together. But the Noilas hung over the boy like a phantom, not truly a threat but menacing nonetheless. Breaking Aaron in such a violent fashion would ultimately insult the royal family and bring further complications. Varis clicked his tongue irritably at the thought. He would make the change seem of the boy's own will. Slowly but surely so when the Noilas came for him, they would have nothing but contempt.

“Put your number in mine.” Varis unlocked his phone and pulled up a blank contact, naming it A. Starag, before passing it to the mage. “I will be the judge of your sword skills. Tomorrow, you will find a sparring partner so I may observe. If you cannot, I will find one for you. If I find you lacking, I will request additional lessons for you. I will be in contact with your instructors in magic as well to monitor your progress. If I find anything below expectation, I will request additional lessons and tighten your leash immensely. Is this understood?” Varis left no room for discussion. Although the Noilas likely left little for anything but success, Varis would not let the boy settle. The pride that bubbled and swelled beneath the mage's words made the young Sinnenodel uneasy. The Sinnenodels believe pride bred complacency and no self respecting family member would allow their mage to suffer that. Varis would watch the mage like a hawk for a while and then maybe step away if he proved himself.

Aaron's information on modern political matters did please Varis enough for his eyes to lighten just a touch. His knowledge was limited in scope and filtered through the Noilas family lens but it was much better than he expected. It meant less work and the possibility of a brain in the mortal. Of course there was more to discuss and plenty of warnings to give about the constant life threatening existence that was the Sinnenodels but he would wait for that. The boy still held loyalty to the royal family and Varis was loathe to give his Lady a reason to rip his throat out.

“Once I message you, I expect you to forward me a list of all health issues, including allergies, and food preferences you have. I will regularly have freshly prepared food delivered to our quarters and I expect you to eat it. I loathe waste and while I enjoy waking up to the aroma fresh pastries and coffee, I cannot eat them. If there is too much, you will distribute it amongst your acquaintances and, as long as you perform well, I will take your requests for food and flavor into consideration.” Varis took a sharp turn and walked past the regular dorms, paying them no mind. Instead he headed towards the end of the complex, where four separate units sat.

Cassandra furrowed her brow, tossing the unwanted coat to one of the servants, who caught it without so much as rattling his platter of glasses. He didn't seem to know what to do with it from there, however. This was somewhere outside of her expectations. She knew his family's reputation, but had thought this school would make the difference. But whatever the case would be, she wouldn't even let Master Valius talk to her like that.

"Gladly," she said with an edge to her voice, not moving from where she stood, "But I'm supposed to be your partner. If you want a servant, look elsewhere. There's plenty. If you want a mage, though," she continued quietly, "I'm going to be the best"

@Leslie Hall