Riven Wight

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

I could NOT stop laughing at the visual of Drust walking in on this scene, completely unaware of what’s going on. I imagine it would feel something like this:



I needed this laugh. Thank you so much for this laugh.

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Hand still in her pack, a gentle, out of place rustle from the woods made Elayra pause. Slowly, she withdrew her hand from her pack and reached for her saber.
Senses shifting into practiced alertness, she opened her mouth to call to Ghent. Before she could, the distinctive shuffling of something nearing took her full attention.
She jumped to her feet, her sword drawn and heart pounding in her chest.
Now what? She was beginning to wonder if Ghent had been cursed with bad luck.
Eyes scanning the thicker parts of the woods, she took a cautious backstep toward Ghent’s tree. She strengthened her fight stance, ready to call out to Ghent, as movement only a few yards from her caught her eye.
She breathed a heavy sigh of relief as she picked out Drust’s camouflaged form amidst the trees. With his hood down, only his face stood out against nature’s color palette.
It was just him, not a new threat. Most importantly, he was back. And he looked okay, if a bit troubled. Lowering her weapon, she met him halfway.
The giant of a man stopped as she reached him, the strap of a newly acquired backpack over one shoulder. He quirked an eyebrow upward as he looked her over.
“Long story,” Elayra answered his unspoken question. “I’ll explain later. What kept you?”
Drust’s pale lips pulled downward. “They’re on edge today,” he answered darkly.
Elayra inhaled, struggling to hide her nervousness at the news behind her usual mask. The day really couldn't get much worse.
Drust’s neck twitched as he glanced over his shoulder toward the direction he’d come. Looking back to her, his brows furrowed as he sniffed at the air. “What’s burn—?"
A shocked scream rent the air. Two pairs of eyes snapped up to the tree Ghent had chosen as his shoji screen.
Drust reacted instantly. He tossed the backpack to the ground, freeing himself of its minor burden, and drew his katana as he raced to the tree. Elayra followed a beat behind him. The Knight reached the tree well ahead of her.
Katana held in ready defense, he slid to a stop as he tried to make sense of the chaos that greeted him. Ghent, adorned in only a pair of boxers, was using a shirt to battle a fire—a fire that looked like he had set himself—licking up a pair of pants. Drust’s pants, if the Knight wasn’t mistaken.
He leaned back as Ghent’s makeshift torch nearly whacked him. In the boy’s distraction, its hungry flames grew dangerously close to the leaves of a broken, dying branch hanging lower than the others around it.
With a snarl, Drust gripped the torch just above the boy’s hand and yanked it from Ghent’s grasp. Keeping the burning end low to avoid catching anything else on fire, he shoved his elbow, hard, into Ghent to make the boy back off, speared the pants with his blade, and pulled them off the branch. He tossed them to a patch of ground more earth than grass, then stomped on them, grinding the lit portions into the soil. The dirt worked with his boot to slowly put it out as Elayra caught up to the action.
Her eyes widened as a smoldering leaf of the dying branch fully caught fire.
“Drust, the tree!” she shouted as the leaves surrounding the first ignited. The rank stench of burning fabric and foliage filled the air, strands of smoke twisting upward like souls being released to the heavens.
Drust glanced to the burning branch. His neck twitched twice, and his mouth curled into a tight snarl. The black veins at the corners of his eyes pulsed steadily, slowly spreading. The webbed red of the Curse dominating his irises threatened to spread through the whites.
“Extinguo!” he growled at Ghent, still busy trying to fully snuff out the first fire. “Use it! NOW!” he finished in a roar, a gravely undertone fighting for dominance with the last word, like a second voice lurking beneath his own.

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

Arla snorted a laugh as Rayth led her forward. “‘My imaginary friend did it’ usually doesn’t go over very well with most people!” Though, she had to admit, the thought of being capable of pairing up with someone invisible certainly would have its advantages.
Despite their banter, she noted the care Rayth took to lead her around the mix of mess and cleanliness of the double-stacked beds.
The musty odor of blankets and clothes a touch overdue for a good wash strengthened as they passed an exceptionally messy area. But they quickly left that behind, going from one sleeper car to the next.
She stared at the new bunks absently. She had never shared sleeping quarters with someone else before. Not long term, at any rate. Even her experience with sleepovers was dismal. She ran her tongue over the back of her teeth as it dawned on her exactly how close-quarters she’d be living with others. She hadn’t expected to have her own space, but seeing the living arrangements in person sparked a tinge of apprehension in her.
She frowned. Reassuring herself she had nothing to worry about—except maybe keeping her camera from breaking if she left it out—she shoved the emotion down with everything else on her, "Deal With That Later," list.
Lost in her thoughts, Arla bumped into the half-vampire when he stopped. She looked up to him as he spoke, then followed his gaze and gesture to a bottom bunk. Her brows raised at the state of it. It looked far from being unoccupied. Either Rayth was messing with her, or this Genesis felt the need to claim two bunks.
“Tempting. But I think I’ll take your word on that. I’d rather not find out what it takes to get on a vampire’s bad side!” she offered a smile as he continued speaking, turning to her.
She shrugged her indifference. “Sounds fine by me. You lead, I’ll follow. My light at the end of the tunnel is still that shower!” She ran her fingers through her dyed hair in emphasis.
“So…” she began, turning toward the next door leading from one car to the next. She may as well find out what she could about this place and its people now. “How many members are there? And what are the house rules?” she added as an unhappy afterthought, her eyes narrowing.
She knew anywhere with others would have a code of conduct to prevent complete chaos, but she couldn’t help but hold her breath while she waited for his answer. She had already spent too long in a household with stifling rules. She had no intention of knowingly walking back into the same situation. Frieda seemed like the relaxed, understanding type, but you never really knew how someone captained their ship until you were a part of the crew.

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

Arla looked to Rayth curiously at his revelation about the lights. The darkness bleached him of his colors, turning him into a partial silhouette where it settled the deepest around him.
“Is this where you sleep, then?” She mimed draping a cape mysteriously in front of her face, her gaze trailing his movement as he stepped to the wall. “The Car of Eternal Night!” she finished in a poor Transylvanian accent.
She lowered her arm and followed his hand as he reached into a deeper depth of dark. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to pick out the shape of a switch. She cringed when he flipped it on, instinctively bracing herself to be blinded, but it only gave off an empty click-click
Her gaze flicked back to him as he answered it was more than just the one train car. Her brows furrowed, then raised in further surprise at the news most of the troops didn’t have a phone.
“Wait, really??” Forgetting she wasn’t supposed to be capable of seeing him well, she searched his face for any signs he was joking. Catching the mistake, she did her best to keep her gaze unfocused as he stepped back to her. “That’s a rarity.”
As surprising as it was, most of them not having a mini computer in their pocket could work in her favor. It meant there was less chance of someone stumbling on a photo of her tagged as missing, and calling it in.
Then, of course, a dead phone wouldn’t be a problem--she’d left hers back in her bedroom. She frowned and sighed as she realized that no power also meant she couldn’t recharge her cameras’ battery packs between stops. She’d packed a few extra disposable ones, but not enough to last long-term.
“So, invest in a flashlight,” she said, trying to not look at anything in particular, but still keep half an eye on him. “Got it.”
She tensed as she realized Rayth was looking her over. She took a slow breath, and a smirk quirked at her lips; it was always amusing what people thought they could get away with when they believed they couldn’t be fully seen.
The dark could teach you a lot about a person.
When he shifted his attention, she stole the moment to fully scan the area for herself. Confirming Rayth’s statement, personal belongings were stacked on or under each of the cots, some more messily than others.
She ran her tongue over her teeth, trying to guess how much a ‘normal’ person would be capable of picking out from the dim light leaking through the bottoms of a couple of the window coverings.
His touch startled her attention back to him. Her fingers twitched toward her knife, but she stopped them, curling them into a loose fist. He was just letting her know where he was.
She groaned at his simile. “I got dragged to one of those once. They’re reputation is well-earned.”
Arla reached out toward him. She hesitated, took another deep breath, then placed her hand on his shoulder. “If I die from tripping on someone’s pile of dirty underwear, know I’ll haunt you for the rest of eternity.”

Blood Trails (Siaya-Dragalorn x AutumnFrost)

Taya leaned back slightly in her chair, watching as William reluctantly accepted the file. His reaction to it served as a reminder of his questionable experience. It was curious that the director had agreed to this particular arrangement. After all, according to the files she had read on the supposed werewolf, he wasn’t exactly the most qualified in law enforcement.
Not on paper, at any rate. He'd moved around a lot, shifting from precinct to precinct, his station changing with every couple moves. Only time would tell how much of it was real. If nothing else, someone had certainly gone through a lot of trouble to fabricate a paper trail that fit a lifestyle for an immortal werewolf.
She picked up her glass of Coke and stirred the straw through the ice. Realizing where William was at in Cormack’s section as he went to flip the page, she inhaled and reached slightly toward him to get his attention.
“Oh, you may want to—” But her warning came too late. William had turned the page. Taya swore he turned a bit green at the crime scene photos that stared back at him. “Wait for the next page,” she finished with a sad, apologetic smile, glad that the angle of the folder prevented her from seeing the photos.
She’d already seen the real thing this morning. Even thinking about it now made her stomach churn. The first time she’d seen one of the victims in person, she’d lost her breakfast. Not her proudest moment, but Eli had demonstrated the first signs of actual humanity toward her in the form of silent understanding.
She’d been skipping breakfast ever since.
Even this time, she could barely stand to see the carnage. She’d quickly used the excuse of talking to the deceased’s coworkers who had arrived at the building.
She’d seen pictures of a lot of different crimes at the academy, but nothing could prepare you for the real thing. Especially when the ‘real thing’ meant maliciously savaged. On the upside, she supposed, if she could get through this case, she could get through anything.
If William really was a werewolf, she was surprised he wouldn’t be desensitized to such gore, picture or otherwise. That he wasn’t, however, was almost a relief. She stole a quick glance toward Eli at the thought.
The man took a slow sip of his tea as William looked through the folder. His eternal frown deepened into a scowl, and he stared into the steaming liquid with distaste. Gripping the mug by the rim, he lowered it back to the plate like meat gone bad at market.
Eli placed his elbows on the table and laced his fingers above the cup. His posture imperiously straight, his gaze settled impatiently on William.
Taya, too, refocused on the supposed werewolf. Her head cocked slightly as she caught deeper emotion flash through his eyes, and he turned from one case file quicker than the others.
She tried to steal a glance at the name or at least the placement in the file, making a mental note to figure out what had spooked him, before her comment gained his attention.
Eli snorted at William’s admission. “If you are what you claim, I’m surprised you wouldn’t keep closer tabs on the lore that floats to the surface,” he scoffed.
“It’s a touch more of a modern piece of lore,” Taya interjected quickly, hoping to draw William’s attention away from Archer and diffuse a situation before it could potentially arise. “It’s something that’s been popularized by recent media.”
Eli raised a knowing eyebrow at her.
Taya cleared her throat at the silent accusation that she was well versed in the said media. “According to it, it’s a compulsion that werewolves have. It’s never really specified why, but there are plenty of fan-based theories. Then, there’s another media source that claims that if a werewolf… well… eats the heart of their sire, they would be cured of lycanthropy.”
Eli steepled his pointer and middle fingers. “Thus, I’m sure you can understand why we wouldn’t want that little particular to go public.” His head shifted down in an unspoken warning to William to keep quiet about it. “Hollywood fabrication or not, we don’t need people jumping to the conclusion that someone’s hunting for their sire,” he snorted at the word, “and that those dead were werewolves. There’ve been enough witch hunts as it is,” he finished, his voice a dark, disdainful accusation.
Taya groaned inwardly at his tone, and hastily picked up the conversation.
“As for seeing what’s left of Cormack’s body…” Her voice faltered. “That won’t be a problem. We still have him and a couple of the more recent victims at the morgue.
A sickened, haunted look in her hazel eyes, she met William’s gaze. Her voice was softer than she intended as she continued. “But know that the pictures…” She glanced down toward the file, open, thankfully, to a page of text. “They barely do the damage justice. On any of them. They’ll be cleaned up at the morgue, but I need you to understand what you’re getting into here.”
She met his gaze again, trying to convey the horrors he was getting himself into. Whatever his true age, whether he was a werewolf or a deranged human, he still deserved to have a fair warning.

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

“Hey.” Arla cast a quick, squinting glance down to the workers and floodlights. Their shouted orders floated faintly toward her and Rayth. “I trust Hollywood as far as I can throw them. Can’t blame a girl for keeping notes!”
As he contemplated her question at the sky, her own gaze flicked between him and the train car. She took it in, trying to tell if there was anyone else already inside. But the windows were dark, the glass reflecting the fairground lights, and she didn’t see the telltale glow seeping around the doorframe.
Her attention shifted fully back to Rayth as the boy answered. Her body tensed reactively at his quick movement of jumping up to the sleeper car’s entrance. She watched him closely as he reached for the door, but stopped to continue speaking.
She blinked in surprise at the second half of his response. “You… lived with humans?”
She supposed that made sense—being half human, he’d have had human family. Still, being something renowned for preying on humans, that didn’t lessen its strangeness.
“Not sure which is more surprising. That you lived with them in general, or that you managed to put up with family for sixty years!” She offered a chortle, but the sound died off as he opened the door into the interior of the car.
There was no one inside, after all. That, or they’d gone to sleep and shut off the lights. Despite the windows, the only light illuminating the entrance came from behind them, turning it into a playground for creeping shadows.
About as close to an equivalent of a creepy alleyway you’re going to get out here, she thought.
Her attention shifted back to the half-vampire as he continued.
“So, you’re all like introverts on crack?”
Instinct told her that getting into an empty, confined space with a vampire—even a half-breed—wasn’t the smartest thing in the world. Reminding herself to trust Freida’s judgment—after all, Rayth hadn’t used any mind mumbo-jumbo on her that she could tell… yet—Arla shoved that instinct to the side, waved away Rayth’s gentlemanly offer for help, and hopped up into the entrance to the waiting corridor.
She frowned. “Seven. Great.” She supposed it could be worse. There could be more she’d have to sift through and try to remember which had her bed. She’d have to look for defining marks again when her attention wasn’t divided.
The darkness of the car enveloped her. Despite her companion’s race, she felt some of the tension leave her as what light radiated from the fairgrounds remained outside. Something about this place felt… content. If a place could feel any way about those who lived there.
She shook the thought off and stepped aside to give him room to enter.
She nodded as Rayth finished speaking.
“Sounds like a solid idea.” She shifted her gaze to the corridor slicing through the center of the car’s interior.
Despite its darkness, her eyes adjusted quickly to the new lack of lighting. Though she doubted it was as sharp as a vampire’s, her night vision was one thing she’d always prided herself on. If only to herself.
She started to take in what she could make out, then remembered that Rayth could see her. As she knew all too well, seeing in the dark wasn’t exactly considered ‘normal.’ And she didn’t need anyone here thinking she was a freak before she’d signed an official contract.
She almost laughed aloud at the thought, the corners of her lips twisting upward. She was in a circus. With a resident vampire. She doubted being dubbed a ‘freak’ would be a problem here. Heck, it was probably a compliment.
But, better yet, she didn’t need Rayth to realize she could still see in the dark, on his turf. Though so far he’d demonstrated she wouldn’t need that advantage of surprise, as much as she hated it, tonight was as good as any to take heed of that soft voice of caution poking at the back of her mind.
“Don’t suppose there’s a light, is there?” She struggled to keep the dismay at the thought of adding brightness to the comforting night from her voice. She squinted, trying to mimic the expression she’d seen on others’ faces when confronted with the dark. “Or would that risk waking people up?”

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

Arla suppressed a shudder at the creeping thought of his real diet that his comment returned to the forefront of her mind. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that Frieda trusted him. That she wasn’t on the menu. And, if she was, someone would know what had happened if she couldn't fend him off. But he wasn’t the monsters that had chased her down. He hadn’t even come after her when she’d ran off before. Instead, he’d taken a nap. Not the most monster-like choice.
“I’m sure that’s it.” She used a grin to push away the thoughts. “Popeye would be proud!”
She trailed after him, staying a step behind and to his side. She cast the train cars quick glances, searching for anything that made each one stand out. After all, she’d have to remember how to get to the correct one on her own at some point.
She blinked at the half vampire in surprise at his response to her question.
“Wait, for real? Never?” Her brows rose slightly. She inhaled to add another question, but Rayth continued and looked to her.
Realizing he was trying to gauge her age, she took a slight step away and angled herself more toward him to give him a better chance at the right conclusion. She glanced down at herself, his calculating gaze reminding her exactly how much of a mess she looked. For all she knew, though, that had added to her acceptance into the circus. She’d heard the ‘pathetic homeless girl’ look could work wonders.
“Good guess,” Arla said with an approving nod. “I'll make sure to add 'good night vision' to the confirmed list of vampiric superpowers!” She offered a disbelieving smile. A day ago, she'd have laughed at the thought of saying that with any form of seriousness. “I’ll be seventeen next month.”
She glanced over to the next train car as they neared. She looked back fully to Rayth. Her head cocked slightly to the side.
“So, are half-vampires that rare,” she began, remembering her unspoken question, “or are you just that much of a hermit?”

A Land of Wonder and Nightmare

Elayra’s suspicion only grew when Ghent answered a little too quickly.
Her brows rose as he continued, his answer less than reassuring.
“[i]Seriously?[i] How long does it take you to change?” She rolled her eyes with a small shake of her head. Her expression turned into a scowl at his last order. “I’m not your personal bandersnatch, Featherhead!”
All the same, she turned from his hiding spot and returned to their backpacks. She shoved the tip of her saber back into the ground with a bit of extra irritation-fueled force.
“If you’re going to take all afternoon, I’m changing.” She knelt down beside her pack and opened it. She pulled out a plain set of grayish pants that had once been black, and a thin, long-sleeved off-white shirt.
Elayra wrong out her hair as well as she could, then changed out quickly, tossing her wet clothes to the ground. She shivered as the warmth of the dry garments replaced the chill of the river-laden ones. She hadn’t realized how cold the water had made her.
She rubbed her hands together for the extra warmth, then secured the sheath of her newly acquired stiletto into her replacement pair of boots. She looked longingly to her discarded shoes, the now useless sheath of her blue-bladed dagger hidden inside.
She snatched the boot from the ground and pulled out the sheath. Anger at the simple loss heated her chest. She posed to throw its small scabbard in the water after the dagger, but she hesitated. With a huff, she instead tossed it into her backpack.
She glanced to the sopping mess of her water-logged clothes, then to her current mostly clean shirt. She sighed heavily. The color wasn’t exactly the best for blending in with the woods.
She cast a glance to Ghent’s chosen tree, then plunged her arm back into her pack.

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

“Cot. Leg room. Better company than a guy who smells like month-old onions.” Arla shrugged. “A train sounds like heaven.”
Exactly how cliché her question about his age had been washed over her when he laughed. She cringed inwardly, frowning, but instead of pointing that out, he offered a playful reprimand. Her smile returned.
She shrugged lightly. “The rules of social engagement are overrated.”
She blinked at him when he gave his age. Her eyes narrowed as her gaze trialed after him as he hurried ahead of her, trying to decide whether he was being serious, or messing with her. Deciding he’d answered seriously, she made a mental note that even half-vampires were, indeed, some form of immortal.
“Well, aren’t you fancy?” She nodded her thanks to him for opening the gate. “Must say, you look pretty good for your age, Gramps.” She smirked at him as she strode out into the trainyard behind the fairgrounds.
A pleasant shudder ran through her as she stepped into the shadow cast by the fence. The light from the fairground still spilled over into the trainyard, but it was a relief to be away from the worst of the artificial glare.
She stepped aside and turned quickly to face Rayth, not yet willing to keep her back to the half-bloodscuker.
Movement caught her eye further down the fence. Someone had pointed a few floodlights toward a section of train cars. She squinted at the stinging light. The illumination turned the forms of workers into blurred, vaguely human-shaped blotches as they loaded equipment onto the train.
She looked away quickly, the night coming into focus easier than the hazy workers. She looked back to Rayth, waiting for him to lead the way to the passenger cars.
“So, what,” she began, “Do you age slower, or are you an eternal teenager?”

Cirque du Sombre [Siaya Dragalorn & Summer]

Noticing Rayth’s distracted gaze, she started to turn her head to see what had apparently caught his attention, but he refocused on her and responded to her answer. A proud grin tugged at her lips as his mention of the casinos. “I managed to sneak into one, once. Wouldn’t say you’re missing out on much.”
Her expression deepened, remembering how close she’d come to getting caught by security. Thankfully, they’d been understaffed that day, and she’d been there with another friend on a dare, further stretching their resources. He’d gotten caught, sure, but the weasel deserved it, and at least had the loyalty to not rat her out.
She’d heard that the place had increased security measures after that.
Rayth’s own answer drew her from the short-lived reverie.
“Albuquerque?” she repeated through a chortle. Of all the places she’d expect a vampire to be from, Albuquerque hadn’t made it to the consideration list. The thought of one being from anywhere in America just seemed strange.
The surprised amusement at his hometown wiped from her face at his next question. She looked from him to the ground in front of their feet.
“I needed to get out of town, a.s.a.p.,” she began, her tone darkening. “Saw an advertisement for the circus at the station, and LA happened to be the next bus out.” Trying to re-lighten her own mood, she looked back to him. “Let me tell you, jumping on the next one available without checking how long it’ll take is not a good idea. I swear. Longest. Bus ride. ever. And I’m pretty sure the teller overcharged me,” she added, scowling at the ever nearing fence.
Eager to change the subject, she took a slight step further from him and looked him over with a calculating eye.He certainly didn’t look old enough to get into a casino on his own, but the statement had made her wonder. If he was only half immortal—if that part about vampires was even true—did he still age the same way as a human? Or was he secretly old as dirt?
“So,” she continued raising her gaze to meet his, “how old are you, anyway?”