[Author’s Note: This will be my last post for a bit. My novel project is nearing its final phase, and like the Ring of Power, the closer I get to finishing, the heavier the burden becomes. I hope you enjoy this last post. I’m sure I will be back after my project is finished. Keep your guard up out there. The world is slowly sliding into Hell’s waste bucket.]
Sitting in the back of a lazy tavern over in Minoc, Elisabeth listened to Erzebetha’s questions, holding her wine glass filled with red wine absently as if perpetually about to sip.
“First, congratulations on your enlightenment and your final transformation as vampire. I know indeed what an exacting study necromancy is, and thus the reason I invited you here to this tavern on the outskirts of nowhere. Do you have any suggestions for one like me–forever on the verge.”
Elisabeth smiled, took a long sip of her wine, and summoned up what she could tell this young, dark warrior of Isabel’s tribe. “You are close indeed,” Elisabeth said, “I can feel the passion in you. You will break through in a few days if you keep your intensity. My only advice is thus: Go to New Haven and seek out the orange portal near the banks. Stand on the edge of the bloody pentangle, and stare into the abyss of the portal. As you do this, make your fondest wish–to be vampire–and practice the transformation sequence over and over again until you forget who you are. Only then will you be able to connect with the dark powers, and only then will you be able to make your final, and much wished for, transformation.” Elisabeth signaled the tavern keeper for another glass of red, watching the humans as they drank. No, there was no threat here. All was still well. Elisabeth felt quite naked without Vyara, her black dragon. Vyara was still out in the forest, curled up, watchful like an adder, ever ready for the call of her keeper–Elisabeth.
“Well than, your words bring great gladness to me,” Erzebetha smiled, a gesture she was not used to. “I cannot wait to report to my Isabel fully transformed. Only then will she be proud of me. I have slain many a foe in her name.”
“I tell you this,” Elisabeth said, tipping the tavern keeper as he refilled her glass, “I know your leader, Isabel Wolgoth. And I can tell you that any who serve in her service are chosen from a hundred. Already, my dear, your Isabel is quite proud of you. Though I myself do not belong to your circle, rogue tamer that I am, I know Isabel looks to you as the next in line to her secrets. Therefore, have faith, my dear.”
“This is good news indeed,” Erzebetha said, breathing in a deep breath. “Long have I dreamed to be in her fondest graces and learn of her goddess, she who is yet unknown to me.”
“I must depart,” Elisabetha said, downing her wine, “I have things in the world to do. But know this, when next we met you will have fulfilled your destiny. Go now to New Haven and do your supplication. All of my faith and goodwill is yours.”
Erzebetha stood and bowed, not lifting her head until the rogue tamer left the tavern as unpresumptuous as she had arrived. And now she had it finally, the rank of vampire, the blooded transformation she had followed for many nights.
Lost in spiritual revelry, she ordered a glass of red for herself, plotting, planning her first actions when she achieved her goal. There was a world to be brought to its knees. Too much virtue ran amok even now. She would join the forces of darkness against Luna, and then Isabel would see what she was truly made of.”