Pain and Pleasure

Chapter 23.





Xir’ag was standing on top of their hill, staring down into the village.



Sajore was hugging Andrei a little further away. The boy was sobbing, but bravely stepped back when Sajore let him go. Xir’ag had discreetly turned his back on them as he saw Andrei lifting his head, trying to smile at Sajore with swollen eyes. He knew this wouldn’t be their final goodbye. Or so he hoped.



Andrei\'s blood was tainted. He wasn’t a vampire, but he had been forced to drink Quaruym’s blood. It had changed him somehow, but nobody would be able to tell how much until more time had passed. Sajore had given him strict instructions and Andrei was now on a vegetarian diet. As long as he would stay away from meat and blood it could stop him from turning into a full-blooded vampire. Maybe. They couldn’t be sure. But it had worked for Sajore, in his youth, before his parents made him turn into a real vampire. But still, Sajore couldn’t be sure, because his memories from that time were very vague.



But even when they had to go now, they had promised to keep in touch with Andrei. They had given the boy the magical letter Shaya had left them. They knew Shaya still had the other one, so they could write to Andrei as soon as they returned to Shaya. And they had promised to come and get him if he couldn’t stay in the village. They had also sent a message to their summertime host, Quentin, asking him if he could accommodate the boy if Andrei wished so. For now his relatives wanted to take care of him, though they were all worried about what would happen if... nobody could tell what. Both of the men wondered if the boy would be a man when they came back for him, or if they would find him unchanged. But for now he seemed healthy and that was the most important thing.



But how ever things were at the village, it was time for Sajore and Xir’ag to leave.



Quaruym’s giants had never attacked. The men had warned the villagers just a day after the fight with Quaruym, and spent a week building tall fences around the village. But nothing had been heard or seen of the enemy ever since. Sajore was pretty sure the vampire’s servants had returned back to the mountains when their seemingly so strong master died so mysteriously. Sajore had searched for them but found nothing. The humans were safe and happy.



But Sajore couldn’t stay. He had trouble sleeping and he didn’t want to leave Xir’ag alone for even a moment. He was checking their yard more than twice a night and flinched from every strange sound during the day. He was constantly hungry, but refused to feed more than normally. Xir’ag could sense his bloodlust rising, but he didn’t know what he could do to help. And when he had asked what he could do, Sajore had said that he wanted to leave.



This place no longer felt like a home for the vampire, it was tainted, like Andrei. Sajore could smell the other vampire on the boy and everything, every smell and every place reminded him of his dead ex-lover, slave, what ever he had been. It was obviously still painful to talk about it, so Xir’ag didn’t press the issue.



When they had made the decision to leave, they had invited Andrei to spend an entire week living with them.



Sajore taught him the ways of a vampire, just in case. For now the boy could stay out during sunlight, but it could change, they didn’t know what would happen. The vampire had taken the boy to hunt with him and no matter how much Andrei was scared of Sajore’s furious hunters face, he never turned away or showed any signs of fear. Sajore could smell his fear, but at the same time he worried Andrei was getting a weird satisfaction of the hunt, of the smell of blood and the violence. He stopped the hunting trips only a few nights later and instead Xir’ag taught him to cook delicious vegetarian food. The drow also taught him a few simple tricks and minor spells to keep himself safe in a case of emergency.



They also tested the magical letter sheet, sending Shaya a word that they would soon come back. They didn’t tell anything else, there was time for that when they were all together again.



The goodbyes were difficult. Most of the humans seemed to be sad and happy at the same time when their strange guests left. Mercury hoped for them to return soon and Andrei couldn’t stop crying, the boy was scared of being left alone and made them swear several times that they would come back if he sent a word. They promised.



As the men walked away, leaving behind their small cabin, the boy kept waving at them as long as he could see them. Sajore was pretty sure he could see them a lot longer than the other humans could. He was concerned, but still needed to get away, they could do nothing here.



And he had another worry, too. If they would stay, he would hurt the humans. He could feel the anger, rage and hunger boiling inside himself, and wouldn’t be able to control it for long. He knew that in the huge underground drow city he could let it loose, he could create a massacre and nobody would interfere. They wouldn’t bother. He also knew that Xir’ag was aware of his feelings, but neither of them talked about it aloud because in the end talking wouldn’t help.



Xir’ag knew they would never again meet most of these people who had become their friend, maybe none of them. Human life was too short and they had so much to see and do. And he doubted Sajore ever wanted to come back here if they didn’t have to come and get Andrei.



And then they were suddenly behind the hill, the sounds and smells of the humans far behind.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



The way to the hidden cave, that would lead them back to the Underdark, seemed closer than before. For Xir’ag the time went too fast. He didn’t want to leave this world of wonderful sights, smells and memories. And of light; the moon and stars and even the eye-burning sun that was a constant enemy of Sajore’s. Xir’ag had learned to love its warmth.



Of course he too suffered because of Armaros’s horrible memories, and understood why they had to go. But at the same time he had never been this happy anywhere and the thought of returning to the cold, dark Underdark felt unbearable. But he would go because his lover wanted it, he would follow him anywhere.



Sajore was quiet as he walked along the small forest path. Not the songs of the birds, the rustle of the small animals in the bushes, nor even the wonderful smell of fall and rain seemed to raise any feelings in him. Xir’ag gazed worriedly into the tall man\'s eyes. They seemed to glow yellow. Ah, Armaros was up. Sajore had sacrificed his last moments outside to help Armaros’s recovery, though it didn’t seem to make any difference. The man\'s expression was solemn as he stared straight ahead on the path, like a blind man.



Xir’ag hurried to his side and took his hand into his and the demon turned, looking surprised. He had been very deep in his thoughts and had not realized that he had Xir’ag’s attention at all.



Xir’ag didn’t have to say anything. He couldn’t say anything. Armaros gave him a small sad smile and continued walking, holding the drow’s hand tightly in his, their fingers twined together. Soon they were at the mouth of the cave and without a moment of pause, Armaros stepped in. Xir’ag had to stop outside and so he asked Armaros to wait a little moment. The demon nodded and ruffled his hair, walking into the cave. Xir’ag turned around, staring out into the forest, into the wild, green nature.



This had been the first sight he had seen when they came to the surface and it would be the last thing he would see before returning to the darkness. He felt like crying. He was so disappointed and so grief-stricken about Armaros and sad for Sajore who missed this last small moment outside.



Hurriedly he wiped the tears from his cheeks and breathed deeply to calm himself down. He didn’t want to worry his lover, who had enough on his mind already. But just as he was ready to turn around and leave this view for what might be eternity, he heard footsteps from behind as Sajore walked out.



Without a word the vampire walked to him and pulled him into a tight embrace, kissing his hair gently. Xir’ag couldn’t fight back his tears anymore, but cried silently, hiding his face against Sajore’s broad chest. Why did things have to go this way? He cried for Armaros and for himself and for every human they had met, who would soon be gone when they were just beginning their long, long life. Then he ground his teeth together. That was right; their life together was just starting. This would not be the last time they saw the surface, nor would this be their last trip together, or the last trouble they would find themselves in. There would be happiness, sadness and everything life brought to them, and lots of it.



When he looked up into Sajore’s warm, orange eyes, he was smiling, tears still glimmering in his red eyes. “Let’s go,” he whispered and the vampire nodded, kissing him on the lips softly before they opened the portal and stepped through it.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



They re-emerged at the tunnels far below the surface. The stuffy air greeted Xir’ag with a flutter of acidy smell from one of the small bonds that were hidden deep in the tunnels. He felt like he was going to suffocate. But seeing Sajore’s relieved face still made him smile lightly. Together they turned to face the path to the great city of Menzoberranzan.



They had walked about halfway when they heard strange loud thrumming and screams. Both of the men frowned and slowed their steps, creeping ahead with silent footsteps. Finally, after a while they peeked behind a corner and beneath them, under a steep rocky hill they were greeted by a big drow war party marching towards Shaya’s rebel house. They knew the drow were going there because this definitely was not just a patrol party, it was much bigger. And there were no other houses on this side of Menzoberranzan, which was the reason why Shaya had set up her house here. It had been safe. As safe as the Underdark could ever be. But until now the drow had left Shaya’s house alone because it brought no danger to any of the other houses and could bring no honour for anyone destroying it.



So, this must be a revenge for something or someone. There was no other explanation for such a big war party. As they stalked closer under the cover of the shadows, fear knotted Xir’ag’s stomach. The soldiers all wore Xir’ag’s house’s symbols. The two men glanced at each other without a word. Both of them knew that these hallways could carry even whispers far ahead so it was better to be absolutely quiet.



Sajore signed Xir’ag with the complicated drow sign language. He had learned some of it during his stay at the drow houses, though his fingers still felt too clumsy to use it more than in problematic situations like this. He signed for them to turn around and head back, where they could search for the secret backdoor to the house. Neither of them even considered the option of not going to Shaya’s house. That’s where Shaya and Yvain were, so that’s where they had to go.



Xir’ag nodded. He knew the way, he signed back. Shaya had shown the way on their stay in the house, in case something would happen. Sajore rolled his eyes. Of course his sister had shown Xir’ag, but not him.



It didn’t take them long to find the entrance to the secret backdoor, since they knew where it was. The entrance was disguised as a wall, right in one of the larger tunnels heading to the city of Menzoberranzan. Nobody knew to look for it there, in plain sight. It still took them a few hours to get to the small gate that would lead them inside the house from the entrance. The tunnels were narrow and in some places so low that they had to crawl.



As soon as they got closer to the house, they could hear it; the sound of an attack from above and all around. They hoped that the small main gate and wide, tall walls had kept the enemy outside.

They were both desperately worried about Shaya and Yvain but like from a mutual agreement, neither of them said it aloud.



Soon they reached the final door that would lead them inside the house. They could hear yells and a clatter of armour and footsteps, but no sound of fighting. Both of the men sighed with relief. They still had time, the house wasn’t completely conquered. Just before knocking on the door they looked at each other and hugged hard. Both of them refused to think about the fact that they were stepping into a battle outside this tunnel and either of them could get killed. It was life, it was Underdark and for Xir’ag, it felt like a nightmare.



But despite that, he knocked fiercely at the rough metal door and could feel magic sparkle under his hand. He was suddenly worried that drow magic, that got it’s power from the Godess Lloth, might oppose or even cancel his own magic. They were on Lloth’s grounds now. But he couldn’t think of this for a long moment because suddenly the room beyond the door fell very quiet, then a ragged yell of a man rang through it “Password!”



“Piss on you!” Xir’ag yelled back and Sajore’s eyes shot wide “What?” he laughed and Xir’ag turned to face him, grinning. “Shaya,” he only said and Sajore shook his head, laughing. “Well, that’s definitely something the enemy wouldn’t easily figure out.”



There was a clatter of chains and locks behind the door and then it was wrenched open. A few familiar faces stared back at them with tired but hopeful eyes. These were foot soldiers of Shaya.



Sajore grinned at them. “We seem to have arrived at the right time?”



“The exact right time! The enemy broke our gate at the rise of Narbondel. They are still trying to get in, but we are fighting back with all we have-“ he kept a short break and sighed with frustration. “-Which unfortunately isn’t as much as the enemy. In a few hours this place will be swarming with the drow of-” he turned to look at Xir’ag “-your house. So you better help us.” The man looked at the wizard grimly, but fortunately not accusingly.



Xir’ag looked sick. No, he did not want to come back to this! First everything with Armaros and Andrei on the surface and now to return to this mess. When were they going to get some rest again? And he still couldn’t master his magic as well as he should in a war! And what if it failed completely?



Sajore reached for the soldier and he offered his hand to the vampire, smiling darkly. The soldiers here were not afraid of the vampires, knowing they would not hurt their own. But they still knew they were vicious and dangerous killers and at the moment the soldiers couldn’t be happier about that.



They clasped hands and then they were dragging Xir’ag inside. “Let’s get you armed. And wizard, your things are still in the laboratory,” he motioned for Xir’ag, but the drow did nothing to leave them. Sajore looked at him and nodded as a reply; they would not be parted this time. They had practised together and they would stay together and guard and help each other. They wouldn’t give anyone a chance the separate them, not ever again. The soldier looked from one man to another and then shrugged, leading them to the armoury. “As you wish, we’ll all go together, though we are wasting precious time. Choose your weapons,” he said hurriedly, “I have to go. Just follow the noise when you’re ready.” He grinned coldly and then he was gone.



“We don’t need anything from here, do we?” Xir’ag asked, but was surprised as Sajore walked past him, grabbing a huge, bronze battle axe from the wall. “I think I’ll borrow this,” the vampire said, smiling ferociously. He grabbed a belt from a hook on the wall and tied it on his waist, setting the axe to hang against his hip.



“I’m ready,” he said and immediately they started running towards Xir’ag’s laboratory. The wizard had his staff with him so all he would need was a few spell items he knew would work without any actual spells. He knew those would fail him, he couldn’t get any power from Lloth’s magic; that would work only against him.



The laboratory was a mess. Xir’ag could guess someone had tried to search for things that could be useful in the battle and they had not done it neatly. His books were ripped down to the floor and the magic potions, bottles and bags were tossed on a big stone table in the middle of the laboratory. He sighed as he gathered the necessary things he would need, trying to leave everything else behind, though the loss already hurt him.



This was just another place he would have to abandon. And there were so many things that were irreplaceable and priceless. There was nothing he could do. He reached for a few pouches from the shelves that he would be able to use and turned to Sajore. The vampire was holding a small chainmail shirt in front of him. It would be too small for Sajore and Xir’ag immediately knew it was for him. “Where did that come from?” he asked with delight.



“I hid it into a closet here, I wanted to give it to you, but the opportunity never came. Before this,” he grinned, pulling the heavy shirt over Xir’ag’s head. The drow helped him dress him up, then walked to the closet, taking a leather vest and black leather boots from there. His clothes on the surface had been good for hiking, not for war. He tossed Sajore a plain black shirt as the vampire refused to wear armour saying it would only slow him down. A black shirt would make him less easily spotted amongst the black drow.



Soon they were both ready. They had nothing else to say, no words to add, so they ran towards the booming sound of battle. On the way they greeted more soldiers, elves and people they knew. People shouted hellos and pounded them on their backs as they passed. The inhabitants of the house looked scared and tired, but all of them squeezed their weapons determinately, ready to defend the house. Though everyone knew the battle was lost already, but they had to buy more time, the evacuation was already going on inside the house, but there were too many women and children and elderly to move without a fight. Unfortunately not many of the house inhabitants were good at battles, they were people, elves, drow, dwarfs and other races that had escaped the violence in the city of Menzoberranzan and the other drow cities and the long, dark tunnels of the Underdark. They had all come seeking for a peaceful refuge where they wouldn’t have to fight for their lives.



The men passed them all quickly, wanting to finally reach Shaya and Yvain who they knew were on the battle field. And finally the men stepped on to the big yard of the house of Qua\'laen ilythiiri. The sounds were ear shattering out here. There was a big hole on the wall where the small house door had previously been and in many places the wall had grumbled in. The inhabitants of the house were fighting the attackers on the yard, trying to keep the enemy out. Balls of light were flung around the yard to blind the drow. The occupants of Shaya’s house were used to light and used it against the enemy. Xir’ag immediately switched back to his daylight vision.



They heard a loud roar that reached above all other sounds and saw a huge winged man rushing towards the wall where the enemy was climbing in from the big hole. He was glowing with white-hot flames that danced all around him. With another roar Yvain swept his wings forward and flung flames against the wall. The wall blackened where the flames touched it. Soldiers dropped to the ground, burning, screaming, dying. The fall was high and not many of the attacking drow could concentrate enough to float down using their inborn drow abilities.



But more enemies seemed to crawl out from the big hole on the wall and the group of soldiers on the main entrance were slowly backing away before returning with rage. The wave of fighters surged forward and backward and back again, over and over. As brave and fearless the house soldiers were, there were still very few of them compared to the enemy and the situation looked quite helpless.



Yvain attacked again and could prevent another group of enemy of entering the yard, but as soon as the flames went out, other ones rushed in and dropped easily to the yard below, raising their arms against the house soldiers. Suddenly something blue rushed across the yard and to the broken wall and straight up the wall. Intruding enemy soldiers fell before it as it ripped them off the wall and apart. The enemy had to retreat back out until those who were behind the ones on the hole pushed them through it to the screaming raging vampire’s claws. But some of them still got through.



Shaya. She did her best, ripping throats open and cutting off heads. She jumped down the wall and listened to her soldiers. She followed their screams of despair and ran to help where her soldiers seemed to need help the most.



Sajore almost grinned. He felt the hunger inside him rising and knew Armaros wanted to get out. The demon wanted to kill, it wanted to spill all that hurt and sorrow into one huge massacre.

Why not? It had helped him before in the past and the house really seemed to need some more enemy blood spilling.



Sajore reached for Xir’ag and the drow turned to him, knowing already what his lover was about to do. The vampire’s eyes were already turning yellow and his grin was ferocious. Xir’ag stared at him seriously, then reached up to kiss him. He held the demons face in his hands. “Go heal your wounds,” he whispered and the demon grinned widely down at him, nodding. It was a smile that the enemy would run away from, but it made Xir’ag’s heart bubble with joy. Armaros was getting back to himself.



Once more the demon kissed him deeply and heatedly. “Be safe. Don’t come any closer than this. Try your magic, but don’t overdo it. Don’t hurt yourself. If you need me, squeeze the pendant and I will be here. Don’t let the enemy come closer!” The demon growled. He glanced at the nearby soldiers and pointed at them with his claws. “Look out for him. Do not leave him alone, no matter what!” he yelled angrily, his eyes glowing almost white. The soldiers stepped back before his rage and nodded hurriedly. Armaros smiled again, letting a low growl rip from his throat and form a loud scream as his arms rose up and he strained his muscles. He glanced at Xir’ag for the last time with burning eyes and licked his lips. And then he was already charging towards his sister across the wide yard. He grasped the axe from his waist and swung the heavy weapon easily over his head, letting out a feral roar. He circled around the yard to finish off the enemies who had managed to get that far.



It was chaos.



Blood was flying all around him as the axe hacked off body parts. He ripped of arms and heads and sucked the blood from the wounds, then tossing the dismembered body parts away to find another victim. And another, and another. He didn’t stop, but fed while moving forward and enemies stumbled away from him, too slowly, only to feel an axe rip their flesh apart and sharp fangs sinking into their skin to suck away their blood. Nothing seemed to be enough for the furious demon.



Heads fell. Screams and yells of horror filled the air. And the loud cheers from their own soldiers, when they recognized the man who ran across the yard. Armaros was grinning, yelling and screaming at his victims as he ended their lives. Shaya was turning on the other side of the yard, holding an enemy drow in her tight grip and grinning viciously at her brother, waving a dismembered arm in her hand. Armaros answered the grin with a yell that scared off the drow that were closest to him. Not even their own soldiers dared to approach him, he had death in his eyes and nothing within his reach survived.



Armaros tasted the blood on his lips, on his tongue, in his throat. He smelled it all around him, sweet and intoxicating. He felt it on his hands, slick and warm. The axe in his hand slipped slightly and he grabbed it tighter. He swung and laughed. A thrill was rising, a crazy killing frenzy that always took him over when he really got to massacre something. He loved this feeling, though he knew Sajore was afraid of it. He felt feral, knew that he was now a complete demon. Blood spattered across his face and he licked his lips, laughing to himself to the look of horror in his enemies eyes. He had really missed this!



Xir’ag stared at his lover proudly as the people and elves around him gasped with wonder and horror. He felt a dangerous thrill go up his spine. He was proud and extremely turned on by the demons actions. In the middle of the attack Armaros suddenly turned around and caught a glimpse of him. His smile made him look like a beast. He was drenched in blood and guts. Xir’ag lifted his staff, reaching for the power within the earth. For a moment he feared again that he wouldn’t be able to find it from here. But very soon he felt the thrilling electricity rise all around his body towards his lifted arms and the staff. He shivered as the red, blinding power took over him. His hair was rising and his skin was covered in goose bumps. Then it erupted. He drove the staff against the stone ground and screamed wildly.



All heads turned to him as the bright red lightings burst out from the end of the staff. His arms ached as he aimed the hit to the gate where the enemy thought they were safe, in a big circle, fighting with the few soldiers of Shaya’s house. Both of the vampire’s were far away and Yvain was below them, firing his fiery ammos to the wall. But they weren’t safe.



Xir’ag screamed until his throat hurt, letting all the energy go with one huge blast. The enemies tried to run away, but they were hit with the lighting so hard that they all fell to the ground. The air was filled with the smell of burning flesh and screams of horror and pain.



Armaros was staring up at him with a frozen smile, he had stopped his attack to admire his lovers actions, only half heartedly now tossing the enemy aside when they tried to get too close. He got stabbed and hit, but didn’t feel the pain as his skin started to heal immediately. Xir’ag stared back at him with eyes that for a moment were almost white. The red energy always stole everything from him, even the color of his eyes.



Then the drow was back to normal and almost fell to the ground as all power seemed to drain away from him. He gasped and leaned himself to his staff. Everything was suddenly bubbling with action. Armaros was running again, his axe beheading drow as he proceeded across the big yard. He had already gone past the gate once, but there was another wave of soldiers bursting into the yard and soon he had to return to help Shaya to clear the gate.



His little sister turned to Armaros as soon as he was within hearing range, “This will not end well! We have to inform everyone to-” her voice left her and she fought back the tears as an enemy rushed behind her. She turned and slashed, blood splattered all over her face and she yelled out with rage “-abandon the house!”



Armaros nodded, yelling the message to the soldiers close to him and so the message was sent forward. Soon the soldiers were pulling back. Yvain was still hovering above them but he seemed to grow pale and his wings were no longer glowing as brightly as before. The appearance of the two men had given them new hope and strength, but everyone was obviously too tired to go on for a lot longer.



“We need to keep holding them out until all the women and children are out and safe. They are already evacuating but I don’t know how many have had time to leave.” They yelled the message forward and the soldiers kept it up until the messengers at the edge of the garden heard it and ran inside.



The thunderous roar of battle was almost deafening. Clashing swords, whips, yells and screams filled the air. A man with a simple cloak ran from inside the house and yelled something to the fighters. The forwarded message soon reached the vampires.

“Almost everyone is out. All who remain are in the yard. The tunnels have been shut down, all except for the one we are using the escape. Now we just need to evacuate the soldiers.”



Xir’ag could see the brother and sister yelling at each other, but it took a long time for the message to reach his ears. He tried to get Sajore’s attention and soon succeeded. The vampire waved at him and was then already running towards him. His face was clenched with anger, but he was already fighting back the battle frenzy. He didn’t want to be a bloodthirsty demon when he would be close enough to touch Xir’ag. He might accidently hurt him without meaning to.



Shaya was left alone with the soldiers to take care of the wall. Yvain was barely on the air anymore, it wouldn’t take long for him to fall down, blood was dripping from his side where someone had managed to throw a dagger at him.



Xir’ag needed just a little more time. And he needed Sajore’s help. He had a plan to help everyone away from this alive.



He needed his revenge.



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



Sajore arrived to Xir’ag’s side and dropped his axe to the ground. His eyes were glowing yellow and he was grinding his teeth but he kept his cool. In case someone else would approach them, he kept his distance from Xir’ag, he knew he might lash out then and hurt Xir’ag in the process. But fortunately all their soldiers seemed to realize that they would be better off to stay away. The vampire growled softly to Xir’ag and his hands flexed. Xir’ag stared at him for a brief moment and a wicked smile rose to his lips. He almost hummed. Sajore blinked with surprise and then grinned back, chuckling softly.



“I love you,” he murmured softly and stroked Xir’ag’s cheek with his bloody hand, then leaned closer to lick the blood off. Xir’ag nudged his face closer but didn’t try to touch the vampire otherwise. Then he straightened his posture and looked at Sajore seriously.



“I need your help,” he said shortly and Sajore nodded, now serious too.



It didn’t take Xir’ag many words to explain his plan to the vampire and he was game as soon as he realized what Xir’ag wanted. Both of them knew who was leading this war party that had been sent against them.



The only thing that really surprised either of them, was that it had taken over a year for them to attack. Maybe they had a spy inside the house who had heard the man would be coming back shortly. That must be it, because otherwise they would have attacked much sooner, drow did not forgive and Xir’ag leaving the house had hurt the whole house of Yog\'e\'gmin and brought them to shame in front of the rest of the menacing drow city and the feared goddess Lloth.



Xir’ag could easily remember his leaving the house and now feared for his moth- matron. He hoped she wasn’t harmed because of his actions, because no matter how he tried, he couldn’t stop caring for her. He was scared that Xa’Herae had done something to his mother. If she had, she would have become the matron of the house and could have finally attacked the house. Though it was also possible the Matron Yog’e’gmin was pressured for the attack not to look weak in front of her house. But it wouldn’t be for long until they could talk to Xir’ag’s sister in person and ask all their questions from her themselves. If she indeed had murdered his mother, he would have to revenge her too.



Soon Sajore ran to Shaya and dragged her a bit further from the hottest battle to explain their plan. Yvain floated down from the air and limped to them to listen to their explanation. He was holding his side that still dripped with blood. Shaya looked worried but he just shook his head at her unasked question. He stayed far away from Shaya and Sajore, who could both be seriously hurt by his burning wings. He was still fluttering them open and closed to keep the enemies away. The wings shone brightly and hurt drow eyes that were used to total darkness. Shaya hugged Sajore and Xir’ag hard and asked them to be careful, then she swirled around and ran back to fight, Yvain following behind her, with a much slower pace, no longer flying.



Sajore and Xir’ag glanced at each other seriously and then turned their eyes to the battlefield. Now all they had to do was to find her. Then they could withdraw and leave. This would help them all; if they killed the leader, the rest of the group would be in confusion long enough for them to leave. There was no other reason to stay. And that wouldn’t be hard as long as she would appear to the yard. They weren’t looking forward setting a foot outside the house to find her. But as soon as she would be near, Sajore would smell her, the scent of her blood was so close to Xir’ag’s he could separate the smell even in the blood soaked battle field like this. But as soon as he smelled her, he could tell the difference; she smelled diseased, soiled, sour. And then, like from command, Sajore felt ill and could no longer feel hunger for the blood around him.



Then they both saw her. With a group of bodyguards Xa’Herae levitated through the hole on the wall, her long white hair flaming around her slender, tall frame. Sajore and Xir’ag snuck behind a quietly, they wanted to surprise her. Both of their eyes were on her as she landed on the ground, slashing the air with her four tailed snake whip, numbing Shaya’s soldiers long enough for her soldiers to attack them and hack them into pieces. Xir’ag felt furiously angry at the sight of her, the reason for so many of the troubles he had ever had to face in his youth.



Sajore glanced at his lover and then back to Xa’Herae. This had to work, for Shaya’s house to survive, but also for Xir’ag. Sajore wanted this revenge too, to soothe his lovers hurt. And he trusted that if Xir’ag’s mother was still alive and outside somewhere, she would give up the fight when she would notice most of the enemy had gone and her highest priestess was dead. She had grown to like the older drow’s dry humour and attitude though she was as sneaky and dangerous just like any other drow.



The men saw Shaya running across the yard to inform everyone about the plan. Yvain was standing in front of the building where the soldiers were running, keeping an eye on the enemy and glancing at the priestess in the middle of the yard every now and then. Sajore could guess Yvain was worried for Shaya’s safety around the priestess.



Xir’ag sister was now screaming instructions to her soldiers when someone approached the two men from behind, from inside the castle. Sajore more sensed him than heard or smelled, all he could smell now was the overwhelming stench of blood everywhere, it smelled intoxicating to him. He concentrated on it now that he knew where Xir’ag’s sister was. He didn’t have enough of blood for the day, he wanted to spill more, but only one was really important.



He turned furiously around and snarled at Elga. Xir’ag hurried between them. “Remember, we are on the same side,” he said calmly for Sajore and the vampire stepped back, straightening his back.



Elga nodded. “I will stay behind you, guarding your back. I can see what you are planning,” he nodded to the yard.



Xir’ag stared at the man for a while, smiled at him and then turned around. All he could concentrate on was meeting his sister who was now after his head. It figured, she had always been, in a way. She had hated the attention he was given. This fight would be for death, there was nothing to talk about anymore. They might be of the same blood, but blood could always be drunk away. When she had no blood left, they had nothing in common anymore. He turned to face Sajore, to see yellow hungry eyes staring impatiently back.



Xa’Herae touched the ground, his soldiers falling all around him, their weapons high. The vampire crouched to the ground and from Xir’ag’s mark they both ran to the yard.



In an instant Sajore was in front of the priestess. He was faster than her eyes so she could do nothing to stop him. She looked furious as she recognized her enemy and then a wicked grin rose to her full lips. Her whips were spitting poison from the snake mouths as her bodyguards circled them like dogs. Soon one of them let out a painful yelp, falling to the ground. Xir’ag had started his job, keeping the bodyguards busy.



The priestess didn’t even glance behind to see who else was attacking them, her whole concentration was on Sajore and her eyes burned for him. She had dreamed of this moment, winning this feeble house, finally murdering her brother and being rewarded by her own personal slave, a vampire so feral and dangerous he had to be chained. That would suit her just well. She licked her lips.



One of Xa’Herae’s snakes attacked Sajore casually and grinning madly the vampire misted quietly behind her. She yelled angrily, turning around. She didn’t really understand in what danger she was, once again she trusted her unfailing attraction and thought that the vampire really could not fight it anymore, which must be why he was attacking her. Just in case she had used a spell on herself which made all her soldiers around her worship her every step. They would all gladly die for her, not thinking of themselves at all. And soon the vampire would be under the same spell!



Sajore winked at her as he saw Xir’ag closing at them from behind. The priestess smiled like she had already won and Sajore barked out a laugh. “Bitch,” was all he said but it turned the priestess’s whole face into a furious glare. What? How dare he? The chains would do the vampire good! She was getting angry and suddenly she really wanted to hurt someone. But not this vampire, he would be her reward. Her brother! She had to kill him and he would have no reason to fight her anymore.



“Where is that slut? That fucking traitor I used to know as my brother?” the drow priestess snarled out and Sajore smirked, his face was dark with blood, all you could see were sharp white fangs and light yellow glowing eyes. “You don’t deserve to call him anything, bitch!” he laughed out.



“What is so great about him? You could have had everything if you’ve chosen me!” the priestess raged, then softened her voice. “You still could,” she purred.



Sajore laughed at her and stepped aside from the lashing whips, kicking a soldier away from his way. “You are nothing against him,” he stated calmly and the priestess’s eyes flashed with red rage.



She was hurt, the vampire didn’t reply to her luring in any way, how was that possible? Her spells were the most effective in their house… now that the real wizard of the house had gone. Her brother had bewitched the vampire so strongly that he could not respond to her spell! She gritted her teeth together and then screamed in frustration as hard as she could.



“Go fuck yourself!” her whip lashed in thin air again and Sajore escaped untouched. He was grinning his feral grin. “Oh, good for you to bring that up, I really do love to do that, my ass is just –so- tight.” He laughed and the laughter just got louder when he saw the shocked expression on the priestesses face.



Xir’ag had succeeded, easily, to get rid of all her bodyguards with Elga’s help. The mercenary was slaying the drow with speed, swinging his sword from side to side. Before the priestess could gather herself up again, Xir’ag was all over her.



The wizard hit her snakes with his staff, paralyzing them for just long enough to throw some sandy material on them. Simultaneously all the heads screamed, falling on the ground, unconscious. The spell reversed the one that brought them life.



Xa’Herae yelled out in fury, attacking her hated brother. She had always hated this brat. Boys were supposed to be punished and live like slaves and still her mother had cared for this child, this pitiable boy who was unable to even satisfy a woman. She had so hard tried to do everything to make their mother see what a miserable drow Xir’ag was, so unfit to be anything but their slave and yet, he had risen to be the house wizard, soon being in a position where she no longer could touch him.



And then he had taken this vampire, the first man that had truly attracted her, to himself!



She was furious as she approached Xir’ag, forgetting all caution. She never stopped to wonder why Xir’ag didn’t move or try to defend himself. He seemed to stand still until he was within her reach. Then, in a moment that flashed by too quick to even realize what was happening, the wizards hands were on her face and she felt himself been drawn down, unable to fight, unable to move, her brains rattling with strange noises and red lights. She tried to scream and red lights crackled from her mouth with the sound of her pure agony and horror.



He held her tightly until he could practically feel her head heat up by the lighting that he had sent into her body. She scraped and clawed at his hands, arms and upper body, twitching in his hands. His arms ached, his hands were badly burnt and bloody by her clawing but all he could feel was red hot agony. He let go with disgust and she fell limply on the ground.



Staring up, unable to move or speak, unable to even blink her staring eyes, she could see the vampire, who had so fascinated her before, looming above her and stared with horror as he easily lifted her limp body up, hanging it on the air like a puppet. She tried to speak, she tried to blink, she let out a scream and only a little whimper escaped her crackled lips. Xir’ag walked around her, staring coldly into her so familiar eyes. He said nothing, he did nothing, only wore a humourless grin on his other vice serious face. The priestess pleaded at him soundlessly with no result.



She felt how Sajore took a firm hold of her neck, holding her gently like a lover and then bit down until they heard a scrunch. Her eyes flared one last time and then the light was out of them, she no longer breathed. Her spine was broken. Her heart slowed down and slowly stopped.



Sajore dropped her to the ground and spat on her. “She tastes too disgusting to eat.”



The enemies were approaching from everywhere, but their eyes were on the dead priestess and reflected the fear her face still showed. Soon Elga was standing next to them. “We have to go, now!” he whispered and the men finally realized the yard had grown unsettlingly quiet. And then the men rushed to the castle doors. The drow ahead of them jumped away as they approached, they had seen their leader get killed by these two men so easily and none of them was ready to challenge them. Or maybe none of them wanted to die a futile death. Their unbeatable leader was dead and they were confused. The ones closest to the broken gate were sneaking back out to inform the others of their loss.



The men used the confusion and ran as fast as they could, they were surrounded by enemy and were still in a horrible danger if any of them would wake to act against them. Sajore was running but his thoughts were elsewhere. The look on his face was furious. The sound the priestess’s neck had made, had brought him unwanted memories from a cold, frozen cave and of a man he no longer wanted to remember, ever. He ground his teeth together and ran, making sure Xir’ag was keeping up. Soon they reached the door and burst in. The soldiers inside bolted the door, but only a few enemies tried to hack it open after them. Then they were running towards the secret pathway out of the house.



They stopped on the way to gather a few wounded soldiers with them. Sajore threw a few of them on to his back and they continued further inside the house. Nobody was following anymore. They knew the enemy would return when they had arranged the lead, but for a while, they would be safe. They continued, dragging the wounded men with them. Sajore led them with his unfailing scent of smell and direction, knowing exactly where to go. The whole way to the secret passage the vampire said nothing. His face was grim and he refused to look anyone in the eye. Xir’ag could feel his anxiety and knew that until they could stop to talk, he couldn’t help, so he just tried to hurry them along.



Sajore could already smell Yvain’s blood and Shaya’s scent nearby and soon they saw the little sister, crouching in front of Yvain. She looked worried. She lifted her face as the men approached him and greeted them silently, then returned her gaze to Yvain. The wounded were left to rest on the ground. Nothing could be heard from behind so they felt safe enough. The thunder of war had stopped, it was so silent their ears rang. A few soldiers stayed behind to make sure nobody had followed them and to lead the last ones to safety. People, elves, drow and dwarves passed them, limping, carrying each other. All the healthy were already in safety. Everyone was on edge and very quiet, breathing quickly and glancing around.



They were now at the mouth of the tunnel and after it would be closed, nobody would be able to follow them without a wizard and everyone knew the house Yog\'e\'gmin had no wizard.



Xir’ag kneeled in front of the fire spirit. Yvain was pale and holding his side. There was a deep cut there and he seemed to be in pain, but he knew it would not kill him. He was too strong and, even when Xir’ag didn’t know what exactly it meant to be a fire spirit, he knew a simple wound like this could never kill Yvain. But still, it seemed to hurt him quite a bit. Xir’ag was offered clean, white linen and he ripped a long piece out of it, offering it to Shaya, who wound it around Yvain’s hurt torso. The man was grimacing with pain, but said nothing as he was being roughly handled. Shaya was anything but a gentle nurse.



As Shaya worked, Xir’ag made sure she had taken with her the magical letter, it was the only valuable thing they had to have with them, their only link to Andrei. Shaya nodded and lifted up a backpack next to Yvain. She had also packed her most precious dresses and a few little spell books. Xir’ag had to smile at her thoughtfulness.



“Sorry you had to return back to this mess. We had no time to write to you, the attack happened so quickly,” Shaya explained, stroking Yvain’s bare arms calmingly as the man nodded off.



Xir’ag laughed softly, “It did good for Sajore to do a little killing.”



Shaya glanced worriedly at her brother standing further away, but said nothing. Then her eyes found Xir’ag’s ragged form, all its bloody scrapes and burn marks. She frowned but still said nothing. He lifted the rest of the white linen from Yvain’s lap and ripped it to long strips. Together with Xir’ag they wound the strips around Xir’ag’s hands and arms. Blood seeped through them but Shaya could ignore it, she had had enough blood today. But the smell of it seemed to wake Sajore. He didn’t look at Xir’ag, but his back tensed and he shivered. Xir’ag sighed. “We have a lot to tell you when we’re in safety,” he nodded to Shaya and stood up.



He walked to the vampire who was still facing the wall, his back tense and his long nails scraping his bare arms as he hugged himself. Xir’ag knew Sajore was clenching his jaw without even seeing it, he could see it from the firm grip of his hands, from the position of his back, from the quiet breathing.



He touched the vampire’s arm softly just below his own hand. Sajore didn’t move, he didn’t flinch, but neither did he turn. For a long while they stood there until Sajore finally looked back, slowly.



Xir’ag bit his lip as he saw the mixed look on the vampire’s face and did nothing to fight him as Sajore suddenly took his arm and dragged him away from the others, deeper into a tunnel that led to a small room full of old archives. He did nothing to stop the vampire as Sajore pushed him against the wall and kissed him roughly, deeply with his blood soaked lips, the bandages on his arms and his face already bloody from the vampire’s touches.



He knew they were close enough for everyone to hear what they were doing, but he also knew, he could sense and feel Sajore\'s need to touch, to be held, to feel safe. And he knew Sajore felt safest in Xir’ag’s arms.



He kissed back as Sajore bit his tongue, muffling his tiny helpless pleas against his lips. He held the vampire tightly against him as he was lifted against the wall. Sajore didn’t bother to try to strip his pants of, but ripped them from the waist to the thigh. He was hard against the drow, soon his member grounding against his stomach. Xir’ag moaned and stroked the black hair from the vampire’s bloody cheeks.



He could hear movement from the door and knew someone had just looked into the room, but since Sajore didn’t seem bothered, he didn’t want to stop him. If this was healing him then he could do this. He knew someone would come and warn them if danger was too close and he could still hear everything behind the wall clearly, the soldiers talking with whispered voices and Shaya’s replies to them. And Yvain’s wings fluttering open and closed. He was healing.



The soldiers outside were glancing at each other, looking angry, confused and amused. Shaya looked at Yvain as the man turned to look at her when they heard the distinctive sounds of lovemaking from close by. The couple smiled warmly at each other and held hands, Shaya leaned against the tall man and let him hold her. Most of the soldiers were sitting on the ground now, listening without a word, somehow it helped all of them to get their thoughts away from the helplessness they had felt since the battle started. A few of them were even smiling faintly or snickering. Yvain leaned the back of his head against the wall and closed his eyes and listened. A warm tear ran down his cheek and dripped into Shaya’s black hair.



Xir’ag let Sajore lick his neck and nibble at his skin softly, drawing the tiniest drop of blood from him. It mixed with the other drow blood spilled that night and he couldn’t taste himself on the vampire’s lips as he kissed him again. Then again, all drow blood tasted the same to him. His family’s blood. He nudged Sajore’s back with his legs, pulling the vampire closer as he just kept rubbing himself against him.



“Come inside me,” he whispered feverishly and finally Sajore looked him in the eye.



“We don’t have any lubricant, we’re in a hurry and I don’t want to hurt you,” his eyes showed pain and Xir’ag pulled the vampire’s pale face between his hands and stared. Slowly his serious expression melted into a smile and he kissed Sajore’s bloody nose. Then he nodded.



Sajore’s eyes flashed yellow and then turned back to orange and Xir’ag kissed him deeply as the vampire searched for his entrance and pushed hard against him. The drow panted into Sajore’s mouth as he was filled, painfully dry and unprepared, but willing. He hurt so much, but the hurt was so little compared to the hurt he had to witness when his old family had attacked his new one.



Sajore tried to be gentle and slow and let him get used to it before pulling out the tiniest bit. There was blood, he knew it because Sajore could move inside him but at the moment he couldn’t bring himself to care; he would have time to heal, later.



Xir’ag let out a breathless sound and buried his face against the vampire’s shoulder, kissing his warm skin, licking a drop of blood away. His fingers clutched hard into Sajore’s back as the vampire moved, slowly, very little in and out, letting Xir’ag lean against the wall as he slowly lowered himself onto his knees.



He could now move better. Xir’ag took a hold of the wall behind him, finding a ledge close to his hand where he could lean. His legs were pinning Sajore close and the vampire moved with the tiniest movements. They were now both panting, their breaths mingling. Sajore’s hands were on Xir’ag’s buttocks, squeezing gently every time he pushed in.



It was a tormenting way to make love. Knowing that every sound they made could be heard, every little touch comforting and sending pleasure into each other’s bodies. Sajore refusing to thrust harder. He was deep, but moved only slightly, almost not at all, his hips rocking against Xir’ag’s body softly, making Xir’ag’s body tremble with pleasure.



The vampire’s organ was hitting against his prostate. Over and over. Grinding against it until Xir’ag thought he would loose his mind and had to let out a soft sob, his fingers burying into Sajore’s hair and pulling softly. “Ah, oh, oh oh oh oh ah Sajore… oh don’t… ah, don’t… oh oh oh…” his voice rising slowly, turning faster until he was sobbing and hugging against Sajore, pulling him so deep with every shallow thrust that the vampire’s balls pressed against his opening.



Sajore bit his lip and tried to concentrate and not speed up or pull out more as the drow grew tighter around him. He knew that he would end up hurting Xir’ag if he moved too much and he didn’t want to interrupt his pleasure so close to the peak. Then Xir’ag’s fingers dug into his skin and the drow let out a moan deep in his throat, his body felt feverishly hot and shook uncontrollably in the vampire’s arms. He could feel Xir’ag’s sperm smear his ripped shirt as the drow came almost silently. Sajore’s organ was squeezed into the drow’s pulsing tunnels so tightly he couldn’t move even the bit he had before, so he let Xir’ag milk him into his orgasm without moving at all.



He held Xir’ag as the drow’s gasps slowed and quieted slowly. And then the vampire growled, biting his fangs into Xir’ag shoulder, still careful not to bite too deep and wound him too much. He tasted the blood he so loved and came inside the drow, sobbing.



They were still, breathing raggedly against each other’s shoulders. Sajore licked the wound he had made on Xir’ag’s shoulder until it stopped dripping. It was the same wound he had given Xir’ag the first time he had taken blood from him and he would never make another, this one could be opened again and again and slowly Xir’ag would grow accustomed to the pain and it would grow into pleasure.



Xir’ag legs rested on both sides of the vampire and slowly he lifted his face to stroke Sajore’s neck.

“Are you able to move?” Xir’ag asked with a whisper and Sajore hummed back, moving slightly so he slipped out of Xir’ag, letting the drow rise slowly from his lap.



Now they could hear the war machines thrum out somewhere. The war party had arranged itself and was ready to attack soon. They had to get out of there. The soldiers in the hallway were moving. The world came back to them with a rush, but Sajore felt completely different from before.



He stood up and looked like he had just returned to himself. His eyes were sparkling with life and he licked at his lips as he tucked himself into his pants and helped Xir’ag to arrange his long tunic over his ripped pants. Then he took off the soiled and ripped black shirt and was ready to toss it away when Xir’ag stopped him and took the shirt from him. Sajore nodded in agreement as the drow ripped the shirt to a long shred and tied it to his waist.



They stood still, Xir’ag looking up at Sajore, waiting for him to speak. And finally he did.

“The last words she ever heard in this world were ‘my ass is just –so- tight.’” The vampire laughed softly. Xir’ag smiled warmly up at him. “Well, it’s only the truth,” he winked.



Sajore chuckled and squeezed the drow in a tight embrace.



“Are you okay?” Xir’ag finally dared to ask and Sajore’s face melted into a real smile.



He looked sad. “Yeah,” he whispered against the drow’s white hair and inhaled his scent. It always calmed him. “I’m ready to go though.”



“Me too,” Xir’ag answered.



They stayed still, just hugging for a long time, until they heard footsteps from behind and turned to look at the door. Shaya peeked in and then leaned to the doorframe, smiling crookedly.



“Finished, I see.” But the teasing note was gone from her voice and she looked somehow… relieved. And very tired and sad. “I don’t want to leave this place. I loved it here,” she sighed, trying to untangle her long, bloody hair. Xir’ag offered her his hand and she hugged them both.



“I have no idea how you chose that moment to come back, but you couldn’t have come on a better time. I knew you were coming today, but the fight had lasted so long that everyone was ready to loose their hope. You brought it back just in time to get everyone into safety, without you we would have lost many good people,” she smiled as tears filled her eyes. “Now my home is gone.”



Sajore ruffled her hair “Where would you want to go?”



“Where can we go?” Shaya asked hopelessly.



Suddenly Yvain appeared from behind her. He was still holding his side and limping slightly, but he was already looking a lot healthier, colour had slightly returned to his cheeks. Shaya jumped up and wound her legs around him, making him grunt. “Hey, I’m wounded.”



“Yeah. But I feel worse.” Shaya answered, snuggling his wide chest. Yvain hugged her tight.



Sajore let go of Xir’ag, but took his hand into his. “Shaya…”



“Hmmm?”



“What would you say if we would go…”



“Where?” Shaya asked impatiently, jumping down from Yvain’s lap. Sajore turned to face Xir’ag, wondering if his magic and Yvain’s powers would be enough to get them there.



They had to be, Xir’ag was getting stronger and stronger. Sajore turned back to look at Shaya.



“Let’s go home.”



~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~



The few guards who had been left behind soon brought them news. The enemy was indeed gathering again. All ways out had been locked and sealed, some entryways made to collapse altogether if the enemy tried to enter, but in the end they would find their way inside.



They let the guards go after the others who had left already. Even the last of the wounded soldiers had been carried away. The occupants of the house had safe places to go to, they could even gather the house again in a new place; they had friends. And they were now all gone. Shaya felt abandoned. Elga, who had been hanging close by from the start, tried to speak to them, he wanted to stay, but with a quick embrace Shaya sent him away, too. He said his goodbye to Xir’ag and then ran after the guards.



Yvain was drawing a pattern to the ground and the wall. It was almost ready and heating up. As the last line attached all the previous ones to a single pattern, the whole thing flamed up, forming a huge fiery gate from where a full-grown person could walk under without getting burned. Xir’ag was concentrating next to him, keeping his eyes closed and leaning on his staff.

When Yvain squeezed his shoulder, the wizard’s eyes shot open and like in hypnosis he mumbled out a strange spell that sounded more like a plea. “Let us in, through the gate to where we want to go.”



Shaya stared at him and blinked. She had never heard a spell that could be understood and that had sounded just way too simple to actually work. She doubted they would be able to go anywhere like this and the thought made her extremely nervous. There were maybe hundreds of soldiers outside the house waiting to come in and if they would find them here… no, it had to work.



Xir’ag was still staring at the gate, like it was the only thing he could see. Then suddenly a crackling red lighting rose up from the ground just below his staff. Shaya yelped and stepped away. Sajore laughed at her and poked her back. She spun around and hit him on the stomach. Yvain shushed at them to be quiet and they settled like bored kids. They were both extremely nervous.



The red lighting circled the gate, slowly twining around the flames. As it touched the flames, the pattern froze and started to pulsate. It hummed.



Then they saw the gate opening.



With a bright red flash they saw a green field on the other side of the gate. Finally Xir’ag turned his face to look at the others and pulled his staff off the ground. “Let’s go,” he yelled, reaching for Sajore’s hand. Together they ran to the other side. Shaya stepped to Yvain and helped him limp into the portal.



As soon as they had all stepped through and the last feathers of Yvain’s huge wings had passed the gate, they could hear a horrible rumble. They stared as the gate crumbled down, bringing down the whole tunnel, closing the way for good. The fire and lightings seemed to flare for a short moment and as Xir’ag waved his hand and simply said, “Done,” and then they could see nothing of the gate anymore.



It was silent and smelled fresh and slightly wet. It had rained just a short while before and the starry sky loomed above them. They turned to look around and for a moment none of them could say anything. Then Shaya squealed, jumping around Yvain “Home! Home, home, home! We’re back at home!”



~



TBC