As I was two weeks late, I decided to advance this update a few days~ hope you enjoy!

"Help us. Tell us how to kill the king. Tell us and we'll free you... I don't care what the consequences of that are for us. And I know we can't beat him in a challenge, so I know you'll become king afterwards, but please..."

"You want to know how to kill King Olli so you can have [Y/n] back," Nyais muttered, "but in making me king, you'll lose her anyway." He narrowed his eyes. Draka was risking everything, including his life. Part of him admired that. Part of him despised it. He sighed, beckoning with his free hand for Draka to pass him the other cup of rosewater. Draka finished the rest of his, pouring another and passing it to Nyais.

Taking a long sip of the pointless beverage and downing it in one, Nyais shut his eyes.

"Pour me another," he muttered, "we'll be here for some time. And listen carefully. I don't like to repeat myself."

Draka nodded his head promptly, pouring Nyais yet another cup of rosewater, passing it to him. Nyais took it and stared into the colourless liquid for a moment - the light from the dim, hanging bulb above his head reflected on the water and shone in his eyes. He paused.

"Why should I trust you?" he asked coldly. Draka looked down.

"Because pride is at stake," Draka shrugged. "I may seem like a mindless, lovestruck psychopath but I am the son of General Erda. If I sully his pride, he'll kill me. If I sully my own pride, he'll shun me." He looked down. "I need to climb higher in the ranks when I can. If I fuck that up now, I'm done for." Nyais gave him a surprised look.

"Good luck," Nyais shrugged, clearly not believing the boy could ever live up to his expectations. He took another sip of his rosewater. "Do you know of Helena?" Draka shook his head. "She was once Olli's lover." Draka seemed surprised, but stayed silent to allow Nyais to continue. "She wasn't a vampire. She was a sorceress. The pair of them devised ideas of grandeur to form an alliance between sorcerers and vampires, and - as they loved one another - they married. For their wedding presents, Olli bestowed an ancient relic upon her that would give her the option to transform in and out of a vampiric state at will, and Helena in turn proffered Olli a 'boost' of sorts. He would become infinitely more powerful than he already was, however if he were to fight, the power would wear off until 24 hours had passed."

"And what happened to her?" Draka questioned.

"She betrayed Olli," Nyais said simply. "She used him for his power, convincing him to overthrow his father and become king, and sent ten men from her kingdom to assassinate him shortly afterwards. Helena had underestimated how strong he'd been before she'd granted him his new power, however, and Olli killed these men, before having Helena hung, drawn and quartered." Draka grimaced.

"So much for being in love," he muttered, before furrowing his brow. "So... he can only use his power once a day, right?" Nyais nodded. "But we still wouldn't stand a chance against him..."

Nyais shrugged, placing his cup of rosewater on the concrete floor so softly that it made no noise. "Not necessarily."

* * *

The colosseum was crowded. Almost every vampire in the kingdom was crammed into the single space, those who couldn't get in waited outside eagerly to hear the news of who came out victorious. The place was ridden with beggars, merchants, thieves and other misfits of society; Kori kept his hand on his shuriken at all times. Who knew if or when he'd have to use it?

He knew he couldn't be there for the entire fight, but he couldn't be absent for the whole thing; his curiosity wouldn't let him. Plus, Seishin wasn't there. Kori would be lying if he said he didn't compete with the intellectual blonde over every little thing. He wanted to be able to brag that he'd seen the fight and Seishin hadn't.

Kori didn't know where Laion or Mitzu were, but as far as he was aware they had both come to watch the fight as well. His eyes were fixed on the door at the back of the colosseum that either Draka or Olli would enter through.

He could feel the adrenaline from the crowd - it was thick as tree sap, but no doubt it would flood the whole kingdom faster than chlorine gas. Leaning back, Kori let out a long huff. He briefly checked his watch, before seeing an amused face beside him. He furrowed his brow at the grey haired man before his eyes widened in realisation at who the stranger was.

"Asrin," Kori dipped his head. He hadn't met his father, though he'd seen some of his portraits and heard many tales of what he had achieved. The usually stoic man had a softness to his gaze, though it hardened again when he turned to face the fighting grounds of the colosseum.

"That boy... he's definitely Erda's son," Asrin mused, "though with less brains and doubled foolishness." Kori shrugged. "Do you side with Draka, then?" Asrin questioned. Kori nodded, the action succinct and subtle. Annoyed that he wasn't getting much out of his son, Asrin cleared his throat. "What do you think of our king?"

"I'd like to watch him die," Kori returned simply.

After Kori spoke, the crowd burst out into a lively roar. Olli and Draka had stepped out into the colosseum, Olli wielding his signature backsword and Draka entirely weaponless. The two walked to the centre, as tradition, and shook hands, before taking a number of paces away from one another.

"It's not too late to request armour," Olli spoke, watching Draka carefully, his natural authoritative voice instantly silencing the crowd.

"It's not too late to back out," Draka retorted, "but will you?" Olli wore an amused smirk, shrugging his shoulders.

"You're confident," Olli hummed. Draka didn't respond, instead taking one last step back to instigate that he was done talking. The crowd was still silent, watching like eagles ready to tear apart whoever was weakest, and Draka could feel the judgement driving into his every muscle like poisoned daggers. He went stiff for a moment, paralysed by the sudden gravity of their gazes, before relaxing himself once more.

And then, as Olli placed his hand on the hilt of his sword, the crowd roared once again.

Taking one deep, sharp breath, Draka pushed the crowd from his mind and charged towards Olli, every muscle in his body tense and relaxed simultaneously; every signal in his brain clear as day; every beat of his heart like a thousand drums of war against his chest. He swung his fist at Olli, dodging quickly to the side. But Olli was gone.

He spun around to see behind him, a quick flash of white hair disappearing from his vision once again. Then a sharp pain against his upper left arm - a small gash, almost like a warning. Draka bounced back, facing up to see Olli's sword ready to split the boy in half. Once again, Draka darted to the side, receiving a small cut to his cheek this time. Draka placed his hand to it briefly, wiping the blood from near his lip across the side of his face.

"Is that all you've got?" he laughed, though already slightly out of breath. "That gift Helena gave you wasn't very powerful, was it?" he smirked. Olli paused, his eyes narrowing. He was about to speak, but Draka used the opportunity to race towards him and deliver a punch to his gut, and then one to his jaw. Though his fist was caught before the second collision, and Olli's usual calm expression was gone.

"How do you know about Helena?" Olli muttered, his crimson eyes tearing through Draka.

"Right place, right time," Draka shrugged, a smirk on his face. Harshly, Olli let go of Draka's wrist, taking five steps back. A sudden gust of wind blew through the colosseum, sweeping the many flags dotted around the place to the side, their patterns becoming instantly visible.

"Who told you?" Olli spat. Draka simply glared back, though quickly noticed something in the king that wasn't there before. Sadness in his eyes. Sadness at the memory of Helena, perhaps? Or maybe... he'd figured it out. He'd figured out who the traitor was.

The sadness was instantly replaced as the wind picked up again, stronger this time.

"The gift Helena gave me," Olli said quietly, "would you like to see it?"

Three more paces back, and Draka could feel his heart rate growing faster and faster, wilder and wilder. His eyes grew wide as he watched Olli's body begin to hunch and... change. First his eyes; their shape morphed into something far more animalistic, alike to that of a reptile. Then his arms and legs - scales began to form on his skin, and his hands and feet became clawed, each finger - or perhaps talon - a sword of its own. Then his back - a tail began to grow, and two great wings formed, similar to a bat's but stronger, and yet again scaled.

The final changes - his size, face and overall body shape, revealed something Draka had not been prepared for.

Something no one had been prepared for.

A great, white dragon stood in Olli's place, red eyes focused on Draka's form with an animalistic hunger for revenge. In truth, he wasn't upset with Draka at all, but his reason had been robbed by the brain of a beast, and now all Olli sought was destruction. Grimacing, Kori took this chance to leave before he, too, got incinerated by Olli's flames.

* * *

Stood in front of a door, blood on his clothes, Kori wondered whether Draka would make it out of the colosseum alive. It didn't matter to him. Either way, he would be fine. Though he had more pressing matters at hand right now, like getting his job done before anyone realised something strange was going on.

Sighing his questions away, Kori knocked on the door he had been contemplating in front of, waiting for a moment as he listened to footsteps on the other side. A man with blackish-grey hair opened the door, and not far behind him he could make out a blonde male with a long braid.

"Jay," Kori dipped his head. The man before him watched with a look of concern and slight anger. Despite being Kori's grandfather, Jay was inconceivably angry with the boys. Within their short lifetime they'd thrown normality out of balance. He knew it was unfair to blame [Y/n] for things that were out of her control, so he blamed Nyais and the boys instead.

"What do you want?" Jay asked curtly, despite already knowing the answer to his inquiry.

"Let me speak to [Y/n]," Kori responded with the same indifferent brevity his grandfather had spoken to him with.

"You are not permitted to enter any rooms in relation to the king or [Y/n]. I do not know who let you in Olli's quarters but I request you leave, or I will be forced to remove you myse—" Jay was cut off by an arrow being lodged in his chest. His hand pressed against it. It was clear he was forcing himself to stay on his feet and not falter, but his strength couldn't last for long. His eyes narrowed as he spotted the figure in the distance. A flash of white pushed Kori to the side of the door as the second guard in the room made a beeline for Jay's attacker, but Kori managed to catch up with him, holding a shuriken to his throat.

"I have a lot of respect for you both," Kori said plainly, "but I'm afraid you're going to have to die."

"Sorry~" Aytsa sang, walking past Ren as his jugular spray painted both he and Kori in a sheet of crimson. A small girl came rushing to the door, her light blonde curls bouncing behind her. When she took in what was happening, her eyes widened. Aytsa and Kori exchanged a confused glance.

"Y-you can't come in here!" the blonde maid cried out, trembling in the doorframe. Disobeying her contract, though for [Y/n]'s sake, she used her magic to create a strong wind in front of the door that would keep the boys away, almost like a shield.

"A nature faerie?" Kori observed, looking at Aytsa. He shrugged, simply walking closer to the wind. Every step closer he took, the maid began to shake more violently. And then, suddenly, everyone stopped. The wind dropped, Aytsa froze, and Kori's eyes no longer seemed able to blink. He couldn't miss a nanosecond of the girl with [h/c] hair and [e/c] eyes that he'd yearned for so much. A grin broke out on Aytsa's face, though it faltered when he realised [Y/n] hadn't spotted either of them yet. She simply looked at the maid.

"Hetti! What's going on?!" she cried out. Hetti turned to look at her, unable to think straight. Hardly able to move.

"I told you to stay in your room!" Hetti yelled, eyes tearful. "Go back, please, quickly!"

"Why? Hetti, I—"

Yet another arrow tore the air in half, whistling through the silent corridor. Hetti tried to step out of its way, but the arrow's trajectory was slightly curved in the direction Aytsa knew she'd dodge in - away from [Y/n]. It pierced through her neck, blood beginning to bubble up around it. The poison seared through her skin, making the girl crash to her knees as she tried to stop the bleeding.

Terrified, finally grasping the situation, [Y/n] fell beside Hetti, holding the girl close to her.

A scream escaped her lips as Hetti's blood soaked her dress.

She felt the girl shudder, a small shake as she tried to reach for [Y/n], before she heaved out a sigh. Her last.



~ my artwork of this scene ~ ~ Rest In Peace Hetti ~