Chapter Text
The moon held itself high in the inky sky, illuminating the amber glow of the town beneath- the shine echoed through loud cheering and bumbling laughter.
Asher moved away from an old retelling, he didn't care much for the play- he'd seen it more than enough times during each festival. The story of Raziel and Kain, the vampires- Why did they learn about this story of vampires when they were always at war with them? He never understood and all the answers he was given were never the ones to what he asked.
A shadow shifted out the corner of his eye as he walked, finding where his wife had hidden herself away from the boisterous happenings nearby, the area more dimmed.
“I see you ran away from them as well?” She smiled at him, Asher making a noise in affirmation.
“It’s the same thing each time, why see it again and again if nothing ever changes?”
“It’s important, you know that as well as I do. Old Nosgothic stories and myths around our sun and his rival the moon.”
He sighed, “Yes, yes- and how when he killed the moon he couldn't bear it so now he chases her shadow- I've heard it so much it haunts me in my dreams.”
“It’s a good story, it tells us of our ambition and to not let it blind us. They all hold their meanings, even if it is vague”
Asher shook his head, it being a good story was debatable but the metaphors were enough- he heard it far too much by the rest of the church.
“Should we really even be focusing on a festival? The war should be more of our concern, we are in more danger.”
“I agree, but we may be killed regardless.” She frowned, Asher studying his close surroundings
“There’s a chance of it.”
The shadows creeped, they felt like a weight, before loud shrieking was held off in the distance. The two fell silent, listening- the shrieks were not of better circumstances, they were blood chilling.
“Get inside, I’ll check if everything is right.” Asher ushered his wife into one of the buildings, quickly darting off to investigate, maneuvering past falling lanterns- their fire catching upon the dry grass
The screaming ceased but the pit in his stomach only grew, slowing when he found himself at the source of the sound- The area strangely barren, the fire raising ash higher into the sky. The bloodied rocks beneath his feet sparked something in his veins- the sensation amplifying into a fire at the sight of a tall figure, with wings the shade of the sky above- and claws with crimson ichor trailing down to the sharpest peak. It was shadowed by the moon, illuminated by the blazes around them.
It said something to him, a thing he did not understand or hear- before it dashed in his direction- the striking and branching pains of it slashing at him were overwhelming- its teeth sinking into the flesh on his neck, constricting the life out of him until he had fallen limp, the cold replacing warmth in the presence of death itself.