"I have no idea where we are," Sally finally confessed to the pair walking behind her, who'd put all their trust and faith into Sally to lead them to the train station. An exhausted groan left Damien.

"Well how the hell are we supposed to get to the airport if we can't even get to the train station?!" Tara huffed. Sally rolled her eyes, continuing in the direction that she'd assumed the train station to be in. They'd gone to Bankso, a town near the Pirin Mountain Range, per Tara's request. They hadn't actually gone to the mountains themselves; only viewed them from a distance. Now, however, it was time to go back.

"Fine! There's no use in this," Sally huffed. "I'm gonna ask around." Tara and Damien both shrugged, deciding they weren't going to get involved as they didn't know a word of Bulgarian. Looking around, Sally tried to find someone who looked approachable enough to talk to.

First she approached a brunette male with matching chocolate eyes and a slightly aged suit.

"Zdraveĭte, mozhete li da mi pomognete?" Sally questioned. The man waved his hand, possibly not understanding her pronunciation, and walked away. She was about to follow after him but instead approached a small-ish redhead woman, asking the same question. She simply put her head down and continued what she was doing, ignoring Sally.

"English?" a man asked from behind her. Sally spun around to face a tall, black haired, pale skinned man in a tatty midnight jumper and grey-ish blue jeans. He held a leather briefcase by his side and looked busy, so she was surprised he'd taken the time of day to approach her.

"Yes! I am. Sorry... my friends and I are a little lost," Sally confessed nervously. He raised a brow as he noted the two suspicious looking individuals behind her, before beckoning for her to continue. "We're trying time find the train station but my sense of direction is lacking," she confessed, a small laugh escaping her. The man smiled, though it did seem slightly forced, and beckoned for her - and the two behind her - to follow him.

"It's just this way," he hummed, watching as Sally's two friends slowly got closer. "This town is easy to get lost in," he hummed, "some of the locals claim that there's a curse placed on it. Those who wander in without their wits leave without their souls, or something like that." Sally furrowed her brow.

"Demons?" she asked. He shook his head.

"No, they claim that vampires live in the mountain range." He let out a laugh. "Ridiculous, isn't it? But some people can't be told," he shrugged. He led them in the opposite direction to where they had been going before. Initially they had headed approximately north east, but now they were headed south west.

"Hey," Damien finally spoke, still clearly very wary. The man stopped and turned around to answer whatever the boy had to say. "Do you really think the vampire thing is just superstition?" he asked. The man shrugged.

"It doesn't really matter to me. If they're real then they're real. If they're not then who cares?" he shrugged, continuing to walk again. "Say, what are your names?" The three looked at one another for a moment, silently deciding that Sally would be the one to introduce them.

"I'm Sally," she began, "that's Tara, and that's Damien," she finished, pointing at Tara and Damien in turn. Sally saw the man's brow furrow, almost as though he'd just realised something strange, though the expression vanished soon after it appeared. He dipped his head to them. They waited for a name from him, however he didn't share one. There was definitely something strange and enigmatic about the man - Sally trusted him immediately, but Tara and Damien weren't too sure.

"What brought you here?" he continued, his pace increasing a little. "I don't see too many casual tourists in these parts. The place is a little... run down."

"I came here on business," Sally shrugged, "these two wanted to go to Bulgaria to find our friend." Tara and Damien's eyes widened. They'd never told her that they thought [Y/n] was here. They'd never once hinted to wanting to find her in their whole time around Sally. How she knew was beyond them.

"Your friend?" he questioned.

"Yeah. They have a hunch that she was brought here," Sally mumbled. She took a moment to pause, looking around. They weren't in Bankso anymore. The town was in the distance. She definitely didn't recall the train station being this far out. She watched the strange man who'd led them here click open his briefcase, pulling out a piece of white fabric, which unfolded to be a lab coat. He shrugged it over himself, pulling his scalpel from his pocket.

Now the three grew alarmed.

"Your friend wouldn't happen to be a [h/c] haired, [e/c] eyed, painfully irritating human by the name of [Y/n], would it?" In unison, Tara, Damien and Sally's eyes widened. Sally took a few paces back; Tara and Damien stayed where they were, but they were clearly both shaking a little. "I knew there was something strange about you..."

"Where is she?!" Tara hissed, taking a bold step forwards.

"Who knows? Because of her, the King is dead," he huffed, "and my life has been thrown into utter chaos. She's probably somewhere getting lynched by the workers. Or those boys will have taken her somewhere. Who knows?"

"Boys?" Damien questioned. Rayne stared dully at him, deciding to change the subject.

"How come a faerie, half vampire and human are friends anyway? It defies all logic." Damien and Tara stared at one another in confusion. First in confusion at how on Earth this strange man knew Damien was a half vampire, and second at the other listed 'species' - faerie. They both turned to look at Sally, who's reaction was far different to what had been expected. Her eyes were wide and she hung her head slightly, unable to face Tara or Damien.

"Sally?" Tara said quietly, looking over at her blonde friend, who seemed unsure about what to do or how to act.

"You hadn't told your friends?" Rayne questioned, though he sounded mildly uninterested. "Well, it doesn't matter. I'll take you to the servants quarters to join the others of your kind," he said plainly, his voice mostly monotonous. "As for the two of you," he said, turning to look at Tara and Damien, "I'll probably be able to use you as leverage against the new king."

Damien immediately stepped forwards, his lips parting in preparation to yell an objection, but the man before them seemed to disappear.

Then, darkness.

* * *

She didn't want to wake up. Whatever was around her, whatever sounds she could hear... she completely blocked everything out. She didn't want to know. Not now that all she had to be hopeful about had been ripped away from her. It took her a while to realise that she wasn't really blocking anything out. She was... cold. There was a bitter chill in the air that bit at her skin like a pack of starving dogs. She slowly opened her eyes.

They stung. The cold - which she hadn't felt in so long - irritating the delicate flesh.

She was outside. A fire cackled before her. She was seated on the ground, her arms tied behind her back against a tree. Below her was a mat, presumably so her legs wouldn't be pressed into the mud and leaf mould of the forest floor.

[Y/n] looked around. Who had brought her here? The boys? Most likely. They'd killed the king, so they'd probably need to make a quick escape. But no one was around right now...

How long had she been out? She wondered how far from the place they'd been before they might be. Surely they'd be in the same country, would they not? Everything was a massive unknown to her.

She struggled against the rope for a moment, pausing as she began to tire. It then occurred to her... the combat boots. Olli...

She held her breath for a moment as Olli's image invaded her mind once more. She took a deep breath. She needed to focus... she could find somewhere quiet to grieve soon. But first she needed to get herself free.

Olli had asked her to keep a blade in her shoes at all time - once they realised that only the combat boots had room for such a thing, they'd altered every other pair of shoes she might wear for the same function. But what if the boys had checked for such a thing? Surely they wouldn't think the dainty ballet-style shoes she wore would conceal anything like a blade...?

She remembered her training, wriggling her foot into a place where she could reach it, before swiftly pulling the fabric off her feet. Her hands were behind her so she felt for a seam that may conceal a blade. When the sharp object and her finger met, [Y/n] let out a sharp sigh of relief. She pulled out the small, thin blade and quickly began to cut the ropes with it.

Surely enough, they fell around her. She then worked on her upper arms, the same thing happening again.

[Y/n] didn't spend a second to think as she shot to her feet and began to run. If she were being sensible, she'd see if they had any supplies she might be able to make use of, but she had no idea how long they'd be gone and - frankly - she'd rather not risk it.

* * *

Vihren and Kutelo, side by side, yet always warring. Vihren, much taller in stature, with far denser a population, was victorious time after time. Yet the vampires of Kutelo took their share of killings, and Vihren never escaped unscathed.

These warring years were perhaps most volatile during the reign of King Onar of the vampires. From the beginning of his reign in 1495 to the end of his reign in 1682, every creature of Vihren - fae, sorcerer, centaur and dragon alike - lived in fear. All but one. Princess Helena, adopted sister of Prince Feron, who took her under his wing when she was a child. The girl was a brave sorceress, kind and just, talented in her powers and a good teacher, too. However, her earliest memory forever plagued her. The memory of her mother and father being taken from her by the enemy she now swore to destroy.

The girl would leave at the crack of dawn every morning to train by the Greater Vlahino Lake.

However, she was not the only one.

On some days, at the other side of the expanse of water, she would spot a young man with long white hair and piercing red eyes. And, eventually, after months of seeing this mysterious man, she plucked up the courage to walk to the other side of the lake to meet with him.

"Um... excuse me, sir," she began, clearly timid and wary, though a part of her felt like she'd known him for years. She had made up stories in her head about who he was, his family, his personality, the home he lived in and the wolf dog he kept as a pet. Of course, she knew all of these things were not true. A part of her was afraid to meet the man she'd been so curious about. What if the truth tore her fantasies and naïveté to the ground?

The man turned to face her, his red eyes widening a little. He backed away, almost shy, before placing his hand on the hilt of a backsword that hung by his side. Helena waved her arms in a bumbling, unthreatening manner, before taking a few steps back.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you!" she said quietly. "Um... it's just, I've been training on the other side of the lake for a while now and I've seen you here many times. I thought it'd be nice to meet you..." she tailed off. "M-might I ask you for your name?" He hesitantly let go of his sword, relaxing himself slightly. He'd noticed her a few times but for some reason he hadn't registered that she was the girl he'd seen.

"Prince Olli," he said calmly, extending his hand for her to shake, "pleasure to meet you." Helena's eyes widened.

Prince Olli...? Son of the vampire king?

Without a second thought, she darted away from him into the bushes, leaving him to be confused and lonesome. Running, the girl could only think about getting back to the safety of the camp and telling her brother about what had happened. Maybe they'd be able to capture him and hold him as ransom to free their own people...

Though that would be the logical decision, Helena couldn't stop thinking about the man at the lake...

No, not just any man.

Prince Olli.