A looming edifice. The impassive moon that hangs like some titanic and unscalable mountain over the horizon. Pock-marked and scarred from millennia of lonely abuse at the vacant whim of the endless expanse of darkness. That pallid edifice sits ever still, threatening to obliterate the earth it bathes in silver light with a single touch, a precarious sliver of black above the horizon that separates gleaming heaven from the decayed earth. The only fixture in this endless night, the crown of the Emperatum Aphonoxium, hung like a brilliant halo that revealed all and left no soul unscoured what sat behind the twisted mound that was the Castle City. Massive buildings, jutting spires and lattice archways that bubbled up from the black forest and is crowned by the Manor Obelon, the seat of the most powerful house of Vampire Lords. 


But perhaps, only the most powerful on earth. 


Therena jerked the silver chain that bound the black steel coffin. The poorly oiled and badly rusted wheels strained shrilly as she dragged it over the long bridge into Telstom. Telstom sat at the base of the Castle City, and was one of the outlying towns that mingled with the forest. Mostly one or few story buildings, quaint little abodes that puffed delicate whisps of vapor into the black of night. These shabby outer towns were, unfortunately, the only place Therana could feel a bit at ease. Further into the kingdom the higher classes of vampir turned their noses up at a pitiful specimen such as her. Small, unkempt, jagged around the edges, and bearing the unmistakable signs of a disgusting wolven. Nothing more than a beast. A servant at best. A slave. Trash. 


As much as she believed it, Therena was no slave or even trash. Therena was first heir to the Archiloberom family. The House of the Wolf. A servant yes, but servant only to the great Duchy of the Night, the ruling house that held the entire earth under its heel for four thousand years. Therena’s father was a cut above even most vampir that cloaked themselves in finery and conducted themselves as if they too were the rulers of the world. That put Therena’s house as one of the Council and exceedingly powerful. However Therena herself never felt as if she was born of great privilege or power or potential. It made her feel on another world from the other wolven people, who mostly lived lower class lives, and it made her an object of ire and scorn of the lower vampire houses. Still, despite this terrible juxtaposition, the lower classes of Beast and Vampir welcomed her with open arms and warm smiles. 


The massive black coffin rattled to a stop at the end of Bridge Nottlen. Therena was now in Telstom proper and the door to the little bridge house opened and she was greeted by the toll boy. It was dark here, many trees and larger buildings obscured most of the moon from view. Therena could still see well of course, but it made the meeting a gloomy one. Therena did not need to introduce herself or present her qualifications. Anyone could see plainly that she was higher class from her fine clothing and the way she carried herself. And even if one could not see that, all of the prominent members of the great houses were well known, and Therena’s business took her into these little towns often. She was well acquainted.


“Greetings, lord Miss.” The toll boy did the customary bow as to a high official on urgent business. There were other bows, but he used them so little he could hardly remember them. “What business can I help you with tonight?” 


Therena smiled at the boy. He was a frail thing. Extremely pale, but tall. Gaunt even. A vampir specimen such as he might muster up to the strength of a lowly human. The breeding stock among the lower classes was not filled with much potential. At least that’s what the higher classes thought. Therena was very skeptical of how concerned they were with ‘good breeding’ and ‘proper genes’ and ‘desirable lineages’. She didn’t understand it at all. It seemed to her what mattered most to all vampires was their diet, and perhaps their exposure to the light of the moon. The lower classes mostly subsisted off of far diluted blood substitutes. Cheap food for commoners to eat. With the supply of humans all but gone none of these people would ever have the pleasure of drinking true human blood or eating the flesh of one. Such a thing was a lavish luxury even to the most wealthy. These lower people could find what they could in the forests however. Animals, while unfulfilling to a high blood vampir, would make a fine meal for these people. Animals, as she had it told to her, had once been abundant in forests like these but the events of thousands of years ago left them either totally extinct, or in forms quite different to their sun-loving ancestors. Animal meat served Therena just fine.


“Repossession. Servant ran off with valuables. Normal stuff, you know.” Therena motioned to the coffin and looked down at the gnarled surface. It reflected the light oddly. Across its surface were silver inlays woven into various complex shapes and patterns. Magical sigils. Binding spells designed to keep whatever is inside in, and keep it quiet. No worry of this one making any noise or rattling around though. Therena had made sure of that. 


Around an alley the lights of the truck blazed out into the dusk. Therena had heard it long before it was near however. She looked over at the toll boy looking down squeamishly at the coffin. She’d seen this boy before. Maybe once or twice. 


“Talbin isn’t it?” He flinched and turned to gape at her. Such a frail thing. She could snap him like a twig. Cut him in half with a movement. He knew this. 


“Yes, lord.” He sheepishly lowered his gaze. 


“Thanks for calling the truck when you saw me crossing. That’s good work.” Therena spoke. She smiled warmly at the boy. His face lit up. 


“Thank you, lord miss.” He saluted. Hand to his heart.  peace 


Such a frail thing. 


Two vampir came out of the truck once it shuddered to a stop. Black uniforms. Half covered faces. Workers from the Central Hall. They had branches in all towns and they acted as keepers. They would transport the coffin safely where it needed to go. It was out of her hands now. One of the men produced a tablet from his cloak and held it up to her eye. The transaction was complete. The other man took the chain from Therena’s hand and hoisted the entire thing over his shoulder and then into the back of the truck. The thing was twice Therena’s size and many times her weight. Not an impressive feat to Therena, but she was extremely tired from the days long journey out of the kingdom border to hunt this rebel down, and the event of subduing them. Troublesome. It was grunt work. Usually a small unit would be dispatched to deal with this kind of thing. The perp themselves wasn’t even much of a fight, though they earned themselves a thorough flaying for their trouble.