"Everyone's gone..."

Sally had looked around the empty halls of the King's abode. She'd dipped in and out of prohibited rooms, glanced at secretive files, sat on railed off furniture and now she drew close to a room which had been strictly guarded. Perhaps the most guarded room in the place, more so than Nyais' room, which usually only had a single guard posted outside.

Tara and Damien had gone with her, but refrained from doing all the risky things that Sally had done. In fact, Sally was sure they were both shocked at the sudden change in the usually respectful girl. Over the past few days, after discovering as many secrets of Kutelo as she possibly could, she had developed an intense hate for the vampire race. She also felt a rush of freedom, no longer chained to the politeness her parents forced her to adorn in every spoken word. She could swear without being hit by a belt, and laugh in an unladylike manner without having meals taken away from her. Despite the whole kidnapping situation, Sally had experienced a lot of personal growth.

The other two had changed as well. Damien had been fine tuning his superior senses with the help of Calen, who had been very supportive of the three. Though they couldn't exactly train to fight, Damien wanted to at least be slightly useful. He could inform the others when someone was approaching, or when someone was listening in. Damien had also lost a lot of his previous exterior defence. He was more open with Tara and Sally now.

Tara, however, had struggled. Her usually bright and exuberant personality had faded. She hardly spoke. She was scared, and Sally and Damien could see in every step she took the slight tremble in her frame. She was trying to hold herself together - trying to paper over the cracks - but Damien and Sally knew that soon, Tara would fall apart. They were prepared for that, and knew they would do whatever they could to help her. Unless they could find [Y/n] before then, but their situation was beginning to look more uncertain. Not a single vampire was around. No one had told them anything, but they assumed everyone's disappearance was war related, as there had been a great amount of tension in the faces of each and every passing guard, before everyone departed.

"If we're caught down here, we'll get skinned alive," Damien sighed, staring down the corridor at the single door which had been kept away from everyone for such a long amount of time.

"I feel like we're gonna find something useful in there," Sally huffed, shaking her head. "We can't just give up. This may be our only chance to get the upper hand." Damien looked unsure, and Tara looked... tired. She always looked that way nowadays.

"Tara, you alright? You can go back to the bedroom and get some rest if you want to," Sally said softly. Tara simply shook her head, staring dully forwards at the white painted oak door. The paint had begun to chip slightly at the corners. Sally gave her an unsure look, before sighing and proceeding towards the door that they had been standing before for so long.

Sally pushed down the cool, metal handle. As the door opened, she inhaled a musty, yet strangely fresh, scent. As though it was an old room which had recently begun to be used.

It was a simple bedroom. The trio walked inside, and Sally and Damien stared at one another in shock.

"That smell," Damien said, stepping further into the room, walking hastily over to the neatly made bed. He picked up a pillow to inhale the scent further. Sally would've thought the action was weird and creepy if her own superior senses hadn't picked up on it as well. And when Damien placed the pillow down again, he and Sally exchanged a knowing look.

"[Y/n]," Damien confirmed in words.

Tara perked up at this slightly, walking further into the room, scanning a vanity unit where surely her friend must have sat. She picked up a hairbrush, silently inspecting it, pulling a single strand of [h/l] [h/c] hair from the soft brindles. She turned around, staring at Sally and Damien with tears in her eyes.

"She was here," Tara whispered. "She was here so recently..."

Sally walked over to the shaking girl, placing her arms around her and rubbing her hand on her back in a comforting motion.

"I know," Sally said softly, "I know. Which means she isn't far away."

Tara bit her lip, looking down. Damien walked over to the pair of them, though clearly didn't know what to say, so instead he picked up a small booklet which was also on the vanity unit. He flicked through the pages.

"What's that?" Sally asked.

"Choices of fabrics, food, colours, and such," Damien hummed. "She was being treated like royalty here," he commented, placing the booklet down. He then held up a small bottle of perfume and sprayed it a little away from the three of them. It smelled of hibiscus and eucalyptus. Sally noticed Damien shutting his eyes as he took in the scent, seemingly wistful, yet also upset. Sally knew why. Something about [Y/n] being treated in such a way was depressing to them, in a guilty sort of fashion. She was sure Damien had the same questions as her; had they found [Y/n] before the previous king had died, would she even appreciate their efforts? Was she happier here, than when she had been with them?

Sally's gaze turned to Tara, who was absentmindedly walking to the farthest corner of the room, where dust had begun to settle. Yet her eyes seemed glazed over. It was as though she was going towards something she couldn't see, and that almost begun to ring true. She stopped before whatever she had approached, and turned around to look at her companions once more. She then pulled a confused face, turning once more to face the corner of the room.

"Sally, Damien. Don't look at this corner for a second," Tara said. With puzzlement on both of their faces, Sally and Damien turned away from the corner of the room, as Tara had asked them to. "Now tell me what's in the top right corner of this room."

Sally paused.

She had no idea.

She had been watching Tara approach the corner as though she couldn't see it, yet Sally realised that she had no memory of the corner at all. She turned to face Damien, who seemed to adorn the same look of bewilderment. He was the same.

"I just... I thought it was odd that the corner of this room was so dusty, when the rest of it was so clean, as though it had been completely forgotten about... and then, I forgot what I was thinking about, but when I caught a glimpse of the dusty mirror in the corner again, I remembered. And when I turned away again, I forgot. This repeated again until I figured out something weird was going on, and now - though the mental image is hazy - I can just about remember it when I'm not looking at it," Tara explained. "But... why? It's just a mirror, isn't it? Is it a cursed mirror?"

Sally shook her head. "I have no idea," she said honestly, walking up to the strange object with a quizzical expression. She pressed on the surface in a tentative manner, as though her hand would cliché-style sink into it. But nothing of that nature happened, and she was forced to stand and study the strange mirror for a little longer. She searched for ancient inscriptions, of which there were none, and then stared at the mirror closely as though some secret message was posted behind the glassy surface.

"The mirror could be a distraction," Damien put in, walking over. "If someone figures out something weird is going on in the corner of the room with the textbook magical seeming object, people are bound to study that object and give up when nothing reveals itself." Sally raised a brow, before nodding her head and pushing the mirror to one side.

The room kept going.

After the mirror had been moved, the room simply... continued. There was a hallway, which somehow hadn't even been noticeable, and that hallway led to a mysterious set of stairs. The stairs were illuminated by strange blue light which seemed to seep through the cracks in the rocks.

"We're not going down there," Sally warned the other two, shaking her head. "I, for one, am not going to make another stupid mistake like last time."

"We're going," Tara said sternly in response, fixing a glare on her friend. "Weren't we exploring this place to find this sort of stuff? You've dragged us around all day. Now we're dragging you. Come on," Tara huffed. Sally almost felt proud - Tara's spark seemed to be returning. But at the absolute worst time.

"Ahh, excellent idea, let's just dive headfirst into the mysterious glowing cavern that no one seems to have found for decades. Oh, and did I mention, makes you forget it exists? How do we know that we won't forget we exist once we're in there?" Sally groaned.

"I agree with Sally," Damien sighed, "this is far too dangerous."

"Well I'm going," Tara muttered. "You guys stay here. If I find something useful, I'll come back. If I die, whatever."

"What do you mean, 'whatever'?!" Sally spat. She harshly grabbed the collar of Tara's jumper and began to pull the girl away from the passage. Tara, no longer having the energy to argue, allowed herself to be dragged. Damien placed the mirror back in its original spot, and Sally let Tara go. The three set out to leave the room, the memory of the whole ordeal becoming more hazy with each step away they took.

Perhaps they dodged a bullet in not going into the chamber.

Or perhaps they walked straight into one.

* * *

The air was bitter and cold, but no one seemed to pay the dropping climates any mind. Draka could no longer locate any of the others - they had disappeared in the crowd, and so the six were separated. Draka knew this perhaps wasn't the best outcome for him, but he also understood it could be worse. Or maybe not, as he spotted a familiar individual standing nearby, who spared Draka the occasional stone cold glare. A man with blood red eyes and brown hair much like his own, newly appointed Marshal Erda, his father. The third most important man in Kutelo.

"Are you not supposed to be organising things?" Draka asked him quietly. It wasn't a cruel comment, simply a confused one, but he realised after he spoke that it may have sounded harsh. Erda ignored him at first, but his persistent stare made Erda turn around and face his son.

"There is no organising a mess of this magnitude. I expect, within the next twenty four hours, the mess will all be burned and the slate will be wiped clean," he said. His voice was oddly melodious, even when predicting their nations' doom. Draka shook his head.

"You have no faith in our strength," Draka shrugged. "We'll be fine."

"You may be fine," Erda returned, "I am aware of your lack of hesitation regarding abandoning loyalty. If push comes to shove, I'm sure you'll just turn tail and run." Draka embarrassedly realised that Erda must view Draka as a failure of a child. Got beaten to a pulp by the king, only to have his friends secretly kill the king in a hallway later on. Not really a good look, he had to admit.

"I won't," Draka said with equal impartialness, not wanting to seem like a child trying to win their father's praise back after doing something bad. But then, he had to take into consideration how he may be lying. If he found [Y/n], he would take her and run. That was the only choice that made any sense to him.

"Well, either way, it means nothing to me," Erda sighed. Draka didn't fail to notice the hints of fear in his superior's gaze. Was the situation really that dire?

Draka took a few paces away from the man, turning his head to the woman who stood atop a towering pillar of stone. Clad in armour, she faced the vampires below her with a calm, yet cold, expression. Draka recognised her as Mira, Queen Regent.

"Vihren have raised their standard!" Mira called out to the group below. "All who gather here are to fight on the front lines as the brunt of our forces. The weaker vampires are being rallied up as we speak." Draka noticed Erda taking a few steps forwards, glaring up at Mira. He looked like he was prepared to shout something back at her, but he paused. Looking down, he seemed to decide against voicing whatever he'd initially intended to say.

Draka watched as the blood-thirsty group prepared for war with no organisation and no formation whatsoever. He realised that, maybe, through sheer force alone, Kutelo would be able to destroy Vihren. But in their current state, it was every man for themselves.

Draka had an objective, and he didn't include the future of Kutelo in it.

They could all die. It would make no difference to him.