Ryradine Alyan, known as Ryra, stood on the shores of Lake Aelin, glancing out at the vast expanse of water ahead of her with a critical eye. Unlike most people who said that the lake, with its crystal clear waters and smooth surface, was beautiful, Ryra saw no beauty in so much water. Instead, it made her uncomfortable.

She had always hated Lake Aelin, and would not have come here if she had not stumbled across it in her wanderings. She had been here before over her two years of existence, and had never liked the place. In the past, she had complained to her master numerous times about coming here, but he insisted on returning. Now that she was here alone, she couldn't help remember the significance this place had for her.

It was her birthplace...which in itself was ironic. After all, she was a fire elemental, wasn't she? And yet, she had been 'born' in a place that was filled with water. Her mind drifted back to the time of her summoning, and she clenched her fists slightly at the memory...

Light. That was her first memory upon entering the world of Arda. Then came warmth. Ryra had opened her eyes back then, glancing around as if wondering where the warmth and light was coming from. Then she realized that it was coming from fire, and that the fire came from her. Fire was creating her. She could only watch in rapt fascination as flames gathered, solidifying to create one being.

She found herself being lowered to the ground, and stood, albeit unsteadily. In front of her stood a mage, leaning on his staff. He looked quite young, and was panting slightly, as if the effort of summoning her drained him.

He summoned me...

Those had been her first thoughts, she recalled, as she watched the mage. He looked up, studying her with blue eyes as she did the same to him. Blue eyes met red for a second before the mage straightened up, turning to her.

"What is your name?" he asked.

"I don't have one," she remembered replying. At that time, she had no name, no identity. She was simply fire, and would always be fire. And then the mage spoke again, changing that with his next words.

"Ryradine," he said, "It's a nice name. Do you want to be called Ryradine?"

Ryradine. That was her name. She remembered it, taking it to heart...

Ryra's eyes closed as her clenched fist began to tremble slightly. A single tear slid out from under her eyelid, not made of water, but of flames. Stubbornly, she raised a hand, furiously wiping the tear of fire off.

Damn it! What's wrong with me?!? That was ages ago! she thought, opening her eyes and staring out at the lake. There was no point in thinking about it. Her master was never going to return. He was gone, and she was left in this world alone.

Well, who needs him?!? she thought. She could take care of herself. She didn't need him around.

So why did she feel so empty?

Just a little ways off from the lake, a lupine stalked in the trees. He came with a deer and a dire wolf at his side. Luces was quiet inchanted by the water and how the air moved it. He quietly stepped out of the shadows and to the side of the lake. His dire wolf splashed in the shallow water while is deer laid down by his side. He sat down and watch the water ripple and smoothed out. His furry reflection wrabbled in the water and he sighed. It was too sad to remember the times of joy. Just too sad. He scanned the horizon for any sign of life, but nothing caught his eye quiet yet. He finally spotted a girl of 18 with fierce red eyes and fierce red hair. He kept silent keeping an eye on the girl.

There was a subtle breeze passing through the air, carrying the scent of apples; one would assume that there was an apple tree nearby. A man in his early twenties, sword sheathed at his side and a light gray cape draped over his back and pulled up over his head, stalked through the forest with his nose held high. He thought he smelt what were apples, but then again, his senses had been off ever since he contracted that accursed disease. The sun hit his exposed nose and he growled, retreating into his cloak's hood once more. That moment's exposure to sunlight seared the tip of his nose. A moment later, under the shadow of his cloak, it had healed.

I should have paid more attention at the academy. The red-haired man mumbled through thoughts of hunger. Who would have thought alchemy and herbalism—his too worst classes—would ever be of use to him? Not Sander. Not at all. In fact, he still believed that he could concoct a cure for vampire on his own, without extensive training in the magical arts—or even knowledge of the basics. The basics he would have learned in the arcane academy of Lomedor if he hadn't dropped out and joined the army.

There was that smell again. Apples?

Sweet, sweet fruit; thick and crisp, the 'snap' of a bite... He was nearly drooling, and as his mouth opened, feigning bites into succulent, invisible fruit, one would see that his canines were a bit too large, and sharp. Through his bouts of starving hallucinations he was made aware of his over-sized teeth as the tip of one bit through his lip.

“Owch! Goddamnit!” He lifted a gloved hand to his mouth. He wasn't bleeding. Did I regenerate? Or am I just all dried up and undead now? The latter made him grimace, and he continued walking towards the scent of apples. He knew pretty much what he needed for the antidote. Quite a bit of it could be found around the forest. But first he needed some food. To die of starvation is worse than dying of vampirism. That much is sure. The man thought with a sigh. He perked up suddenly. Wait. If I die of starvation now, I'd be dying as a vampire, wouldn't I? Either way, he prefered avoiding the whole 'death' thing. Even if he was already undead, to an extent.

The smell of apples was getting stronger. Was there a whole orchard through this forest? There was a clearing up ahead and Sander brightened considerably, breaking into a hurried walk. Ah! I'm saved! He broke through the forest underbrush, thinking he would stumble upon a mountain of the fruit—but found found only a lake.

“What the Hell..?” He growled under his breathe, never one to curse loudly. Where was his food?

I'm most certainly losing my mind. He thought. Something caught his attention from the corner of his eye and he turned. There was a red-haired woman standing beside the water. She looked distraught. Sander watched her for a moment, before looking around him. No one else was around; woody beach for miles. He approached her reluctantly.

“Lady,” He started tilting his head and eyeing her suspiciously. “I hate to sound crazy, but do you have any apples on you?” He was entirely sincere, and by watching his violet eyes that shone so brightly under the shadow of his hood, and over the cloth that covered much of his face, one could tell this.

Little did Sander know, vampirism carried many side-effects that effected its victims differently. The first and foremost was that one became outstandingly sensitive to the smell of blood. The second was that blood began to take the smell of one's most preferred foods.

The sound of splashing met Ryra's ears, and she turned her head slightly, watching as a wolf...no, a lupine, set a deer down in the shallows. She frowned slightly, a hand going to the sheath of her longsword. Lupines were very seldom good news, and although there was very little other than water or the cold that could harm her, if he attacked, she would be fighting too close to the lake for comfort.

If I fall in there...I could die... thought Ryra with a slight shudder. She didn't want to die just yet. She had only been two years on Arda.

As she was thinking this, a voice from behind her spoke, making her turn around quickly. Her foot slipped, stepping on a small amount of water by the side of the lake. A little bit of liquid seeped into her shoe, and Ryra bit her lip against the pain, quickly taking her foot out of the water and back onto dry land. Her now slightly injured foot protested the movement, sending a sharp pain throughout her body.

Why does there have to be so much water on Arda?!? she thought bitterly, turning to the man as he asked if she had apples with her. Apples?!? Why would she be carrying around apples?

"Why of course," she said sarcastically, her temper beginning to flare, "I carry apples around with me wherever I go. No, of course I don't have any apples! Why the heck would you think I had apples on me?!?"

She frowned, realizing that she had been a bit rude. But still, she was angry, and she didn't need people asking stupid questions right now. Besides, this man was the one that had caused her to step into the water. Ryra frowned, taking a few limping steps away from the edge of the lake and sitting down against a tree. Slowly and carefully, she undid her left shoe, wincing as her hand touched some of the remaining water. On her left foot was a small mark where the water had seeped through, looking much like a burn. The elemental cursed softly under her breath, wincing as she touched the injury.

"Sorry," she grumbled, not quite looking at the man, "Didn't mean to be rude. It's just that there's so much damn water on Arda!"

Humans and other races needed water to survive, so Ryra could understand why the gods had chosen to fill the world with water, but they hadn't been thinking much of fire elementals, now had they? She couldn't even step out into a light rain without getting a little bit injured, much less into a heavy storm.

Ryra glanced at the man curiously, noting that he was all covered up. She would have done the same, had it been raining, but it wasn't raining today, and besides, she highly doubted that he was a fire elemental. That meant that he didn't like the sun...or that the sun was harmful to him. She could think of a few races that would not like the sun, but she shrugged it off. Without any water or ice spells, he would not be able to harm her. And if he did have water and ice spells...well, she would have to see if she learned anything from practicing with her sword.

Luces stood still as a tree, watching her. She dipped into the water and came tearing out like she was on fire. He smiled smugly. Fire mage, probably. What would a fire mage be doing at Lake Aelin?
Keep watching a voice told him.
Gawking again, he watched a man come up to her and said something too soft for him to hear. But he caught what the girl said. Smiling again, he studied the man for quiet some time. A medium length around 4-5 feet, all dressed in some type of material, with piercing violet eyes that glinted out of his hood. He is either some typeof vampire, demon, drow, lych, or maybe a spirit of the sort. He gingerly waded into the water and started to swim, the gentle flow of the water taking him. Though it was freezing, he stood up in the shallow water and shook himself. He quietly waited for some reaction of attention, his golden eyes flashing with warning.