Heart Over Sword

In a distant corner of the world, within a region unfamiliar to the captivating man wandering through the streets, Killian leisurely walked along the paved cobblestone paths. He whistled to himself, ignoring the screeches of a Faceless creature as the villagers worked together with their pitchforks and an array of weapons to kill the monster. The vampire wasn’t sure what was happening and how those grotesque entities had escaped, but he knew his Queen and those in her circle would already be addressing the situation.

Killian, on the other hand, had no intention of helping humans and those in need. He followed Evanna, supported her, helped her mother, putting aside this boiling need, no this indescribable desire to crush those that deemed him and his kind worthy of genocide. As a ruler, he ensured his people didn’t disrupt the delicate balance of the ecosystem during his time as ruler.

Vampires were the ultimate predators, but as a diligent leader and one too lazy to seek more power, Killian affirmed everybody was happy with the deal struck between humans and vampires all those years ago. They were their food, and yet they didn’t kill them like nature wanted; they simply used them whenever they needed a drink.

The locals in the vicinity reluctantly agreed to their arrangement, sending fresh humans to them every few years. It stood as the most effective strategy Killian could devise. However, not everyone approved this arrangement, including some of his own kind. Some succumbed to their impulses, either slaying the humans they received or venturing to other villages to hunt, straying far from the kingdom. Killian didn’t intervene or bother to restrain them; if they were staked, it was because of their own doing.

Yet, this wasn’t the predicament that led to his entombment and the massacre of his entire clan. One of his subordinates angered a witch—a witch of all people. Despite the only one responsible for this offence being his subordinate, the witch’s family, revealed to be the most formidable witches one shouldn’t provoke, took it upon themselves to eradicate all vampires. Killian’s punishment was worse than death, though.

Killian had to suffer for all eternity, the horrors witnessed by the witches killing even those that were innocent. He had to remain in that tomb, forever thirsty, forever playing those scenes in his mind like an endless living nightmare. That was until he heard Evanna.

Now whistling down the street, hood covering his features, Killian followed one of his first leads about witches in the area. Times had indeed changed. Witches may have remained separate from the rest of society, much like the elves and fae separated from humans, but they were easily accessible. Now, it was hard to hear talk of or find witches.

It was only by following little bits and pieces of information gained by others, either by asking it, forcing it from their memories or threatening a few information guilds, that it led Killian to this almost barren-looking village. Now, all he had to do was lure them out of hiding. It was easy enough. He just had to act himself.

Killian was a little... thirsty. Whether these were the witches he was after didn’t matter to him; he just needed them to spread the news of his return. He played his part years ago; now, he was going to have a little fun.