The first days travel had been uneventful as he wandered over hills, through valleys, and across grassy plains towards the pull of the place he'd once called home. But now he knew deep down that that place was wherever Vadoma was and that, aside from the shadow of nostalgia for what he'd made for himself, he no longer felt any desire to return to the place he'd once considered a refuge. The night had been long, it stretched for ages it seemed, his amber eyes burning softly in the night, pausing to lift to the sky and gaze with a deep ache in his heart up at the blanket of glittering stars in the dark inky sky. He'd missed her since they'd parted at the barrier, a moment of pain that had burned wildly in every fiber of his being. The farther he went the more he expected that pain to at least temper, but it did not. In fact it burned there still, low and deep, ever present.
He tore his eyes from the sky, searching the night for the way. His wrist shifted slightly which caused the bracelet Vadoma had gifted him before they parted to glint in the darkness, the weight almost comforting now as it brought forth the memory of that intimate moment shared in the sanctuary of their room. With a deep sigh exhaled slowly, bringing himself back to center, pulling the fur of his collar up higher about his shoulders, he carried on into the wilds. He wouldn't reach the vardo before dawn, there was no possible way. He'd wandered for ages to find Grendel's temple the first time, drawn towards it as his blood guided him to their deity. But that had been a darker time, not one rooted in happy memories. He tried not to dwell in that space, to visit the time he'd tried to kill the most important person in his life. His expression hardened, pushing his drive to forge ahead, he wouldn't let himself be pulled back there. While she had forgiven him he would forever hold the scar of what transpired in his heart, he wouldn't ever forget it, because he could never allow himself to repeat it.
It didn't matter if he'd been under the influence of a horror, that didn't change the fact that when he closed his eyes and his memories drifted to that moment he could still see her face clear as day, terrified and hurt and broken hearted. The ache in his chest blossomed like white hot lightning across a stormy sky. Rares closed his eyes, willing the image to go, begging whoever was listening for something else. Slowly something new, something warm, began to manifest instead. Vadoma. Her beautiful face hanging upside-down off the bed, the way she looked nestled into the pillows beneath him as they made love, resting against his chest as she slept so peacefully, like nothing in the world could bring them harm. Like there was nothing and no-one else in the world but the two of them. He focused on those moments, drowning out the the others entirely, the love he felt for her so strong that the tether between their hearts practically sang in his chest. Get this over with. Get home to her. He felt a second wind, reinvigorated, it carried him through until dawn and as the sun began to slowly chase the darkness from the horizon he quickly found shelter in a long abandoned cave hidden behind thick brushy shrubs and long vines, the back of which was deep enough that light couldn't possibly reach him.
He leaned his back against the wall, sliding down to settle in the dirt, jacket slung across his front while his nose buried itself in the fur lined collar, he could still smell her scent where she'd embraced him and it made his heart heavy with longing. His eyes felt heavy but sleep eluded him for a time, his mind wandering back the way he'd come to the temple, to the room they had shared so recently, the feeling of her body in his arms, her hands around his neck, those fingers tangled in his hair. So vividly he could feel the moment, as if even now she were close, so close. The feeling brought him enough comfort that he was able to finally fall asleep, undisturbed by the daylight and wide awake by dusk. Rares climbed to his feet, shaking out his jacket to slip it back on, dusting himself off. As he parted the curtain of vegetation he caught a scent on the wind that made him hesitate, it was quickly followed by the high pitched cry of a Werewolf. His pupils constricted sharply, eyes narrowing as fear ripped through his body, taking a step back into the darkness of the cave and letting the curtain of plants fall into place once more.
The vampire slid to the side, back against the cool stone, his eyes fixed on the wilderness outside watchfully, keeping an eye out for whatever might be on the hunt. It didn't take long for it to appear. It was alone, as far as he could tell, young, but highly aggressive. It appeared agitated by something, he could only hope it wasn't his presence that had initiated the hunt. It didn't look like a werewolf from a tribe he recognized, not that he knew the different tribes by heart but he recognized several by pelt and which territory he was traveling in. He'd happened upon very few solitary Werewolves in his time but he knew it happened, for one reason or the other, he couldn't claim to have intimate knowledge of Werewolf social structures and the way their Tribes functioned. He just knew that meeting one was courting death. He had no intention of courting death tonight. The Werewolf stalked through the failing light of dusk on silent paws, ears alert, eyes roving, searching for something. Rares kept his body pressed close against the cave wall, not a sound, not a movement, readying to throw a horror if needed. Suddenly a branch snapped somewhere nearby and the beast alerted, ears upright, that burning gaze locked onto a flash of white as a deer lept over the brush and darted off into the distance.
Rares remained frozen, unwilling to move and give himself away. The Werewolf growled, snapping it's rows upon rows of vicious teeth before it fell to all fours and pursued the prey it had been stalking. Thankfully prey that wasn't vampiric. If he had breath to hold he would have been holding it until that moment. As the beast vanished he waited, and waited, unwilling to hurry. He wasn't certain how long he stood there but when the moment finally felt right he slipped from the cave to resume his journey. He gave the area a wide berth, not willing to risk finding out that lone Werewolf wasn't quite as alone as he had initially thought. His pace was faster, eager to get to his destination. The closer he came the more urgent it felt. He couldn't stifle the growing sense of dread that was beginning to build deep in the pit of his stomach, like he was already too late. No. He didn't know that for certain. There was no reason to think he hadn't made it in time. There was still time.
The bright lights of the large Kumpania greeted him as he broke the final rise in the road, the colorful orbs dangling on their strings like so many jewels burning in the night, waiting to greet him or any traveler weary from the road. To entice them to rest, to spend their coin and slake their thirst, to take in the entertainment or have their cards read. The sight instantly brought him back to the first night he'd met her. Here in this very Kumpania during one of their many seasonal celebrations, the giant Faire as busy as ever. The smoke of the dancers tent had obscuring the air but he remembered her so clearly in that moment. He turned away from the noise, the scents, the familiar music as it wafted joyfully through the calm night. The scent of the woods here filled his lungs, so familiar that were it not for the mountain of bad memories it would almost be comforting. Yet, instead of feeling that sense of nostalgia, all he felt was the skeletal remains of a life he no longer wanted, a life to which he no longer belonged. He belonged with Vadoma. A feeling of cold dread began to settle heavily on him, as if he were being watched. He knew it was more likely his own mind making him uneasy, considering his Sire was likely keeping an ear out for his return. He'd make sure he was in and out before anyone knew. Before they had a chance to catch up with him.
Rares slipped along the dark path but quickly side-stepped into the bushes, no longer using the most direct route in case anyone happened to be waiting for him at the end. As the thick woods broke his eyes landed on the Vardo and his heart sank. No. No, no, no... the door to the vardo was wide open, glass shattered across the floor, items strewn about wildly. Even from where he stood he could see that someone had ransacked it. He waited patiently, listening for any sound that might indicate movement, watching for any signs of life. An eerie silence descended on the area, that heavy, oppressive feeling once again suffocating him. Nothing moved. He could take comfort at least in knowing that no-one could get into the cabinet, it was locked with a type of lock that only opened when given blood from his family line. There was no possible way a thief could have gotten to the items stored inside. The rest didn't matter.
Rares stepped from the treeline and cautiously made his way towards the door to the Vardo, it was dark, unnaturally dark, like someone had sucked all the light out of the area. He only noticed now that not even the fireflies were active which was unusual for this time or year. Like something had spooked them. The fur along his spine stood on end, every fiber of his being telling him to run, but he couldn't. This was important. He couldn't let the items he was safeguarding remain here if he wasn't coming back again. As he stepped into the Vardo the world tilted upside-down, panic gripping him, twisting his guts. The doors to the large cabinet that took up the entire wall were wide open, the shelves bare. Nothing remained. The lock lay discarded upon the glass covered floor, blood smeared across the face of it. Rares mind reeled. How? How was it possible? There was no way unless...
"Rares, Rares, Rares..." That low, growl of a voice chided, coming from the male perched comfortably on the edge of the bed. His eyes practically glowed in the absence of light, filled with both malice and a sadistic breed of humor. "Nepot, you look well. Much better, in fact, then I left you the last time our paths crossed." A sharp sound, one of disappointment as Răzvan stood, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth. It was like watching a ghost starting to advance from across the room, the terror in Rares gut so strong he couldn't move. Frozen in place. His mouth was too dry for words, his mind blank, he couldn't run. Why couldn't he at least run? But no. He was paralyzed by fear. Yet the second his Uncle took a step towards him the bracelet around his wrist shifted and that fear was broken, his will to survive suddenly kicking into gear.
As Rares made for the door Răzvan was there blocking his way, startled recognition blossoming in the younger vampires eyes as the taller male raised an arm and, with a single but powerful strike, knocked him across the Vardo and into the open cabinets. The wood shattered, flying through the air as stars exploded in Rares vision, his head throbbing as he hit the floor. "Where is it, Rares?" The Ravnos snarled, flexing his claws as he began to advance on his Nephew. The younger vampire lifted his head, baring his fangs at the other male, the glow in his eyes fiery, filled with hatred. "Du-te dracu." He growled back, his voice low, pushing himself up by his arms, ready to make for the door again. But there was no time as fingers wrapped in his hair, claws slicing his scalp, pulling him violently up to his feet. Rares winced, giving a snarl of pain before it tempered into a growl of defiance. He glared at his Uncle, his fists balling at his sides. Răzvan glared back, ready to strike him again if he lashed out. His voice dripping with pure hatred. "Singurul motiv pentru care nu ești deja mort este că nu a fost cu ceilalți. I know you took it. I know it's here. So where is it?"
Rares kept his eyes glued to his Uncles face, if the male was hoping for a tell, a twitch, anything, he wasn't getting it from him. It was taking everything Rares had not to let his gaze stray, not to show him where he was hiding exactly what his Uncle sought. "You'll never get your hands on it again. Mă voi asigura de asta.." Răzvan's lips curled back into a grim smile, his long canines flashing in the dark as he roughly pulled Rares close, his face inches from his own. "Mai vedem noi." The last thing Rares remembered before the sudden, blinding, pain and the blessed loss of conciousness was the sound of his Uncles laughter and the weight of the bracelet around his wrist as it shifted. Vadoma...
