Valerik flew above the forest like setting of Lake Aelin, Akor's mighty wings generating a cool breeze on Valerik's face. But rather than relish the calm serenity of the placid blue lake below him, the vampire's mind was in a frenzy. All he could his about, all he could dream of, all he could react upon was blood. His mind was filled with the crimson liquid, as if the thoughts were plastered on the inside of his skull. Akor could sense his masters anxious disposition, and acted very calmly as such.

Valerik peered over the side of the ash dragon, looking down at the lake. Something caught his eye, a small speck. A moving speck. There was the chance that this could be a chance for the vampire to feed before sundown. The moon was low on the horizon, dipping away from sight. Valerik would have to hurry, and strike quickly. He ordered Akor to land several hundred yards away from the unknown creature, as not to disturb it. The dragon found a clearing, and landed. As soon as Akor's feet were securely planted on the ground, Valerik leaped off, crashing through the forest.

The branches of the tree's whipped his face, cutting him around his cheeks and lips. He did not bother to stop or slow down, or even to care for his wounds. He only kept running. At last there was the break between the forest and the grassy shore of the lake, were he saw the figure. 'Slow down!' Valerik commanded himself, as if to keep order. He stopped, caught his breath, and creapt up to the edge of the forest. He kept behind a tree, listening. He had miraculously managed to establish some order to the anarchy of his mind.

A low, held out note pierced the silence. Then, it changed pitch, up to a higher note. Soon, the pitch was changing constantly, developing into a catchy tune. Valerik, out of curiosity, pulled the branches away from the tree, and looked at the surroundings ahead of him. A man was perched on a rock, a long branch held in his hands. A wire was tied around the end of the stick, which lead into the water. The fisherman was whistling a tune, distracted by the monotony of the forest.

Valerik's eye's dilated. His prey was a mere feet away from him. The tantalizing urge to feed was to great, and consequently, he jumped. The hungry vampire pushed the fisherman off the rock, rolling through the grass. The two began to struggle. Valerik tried to pin the man down, using his knee's and hands. But the skilled veteran raised his knee and planted a blow straight to Valerik's gut. The vampire shrugged off the blow, pinning the man down successfully, momentarily.

The squirming fisherman rolled, plunging the two into the cold water. The splash disturbed the fish, sending the school in a myriad of directions. The fisherman splashed, trying to place his hands on Valerik's throat. But the vampire had the advantage, his position was higher than that of the fisherman's. He held the man's head underwater. He struggled, his arm's flailing in the air. But soon, he stopped moving completely, dead.

Valerik pulled the body out of the water, and without hesitation, plunged his fangs into the man's neck. Warm liquid spread into Valerik's mouth. He drank and drank, quart after quart of blood exiting the dead body and into the now satisfied vampire's mouth.

The serene and peaceful lady night installed herself over the marvelous yet not so out of the ordinary setting of the lake Aelin. At each period of several seconds a gust of wind would travel across the terrain, unsettling the leaves of the trees, and washing the frame of the animals inhabiting that place or the unlucky traveler of the night.

Was it the breeze of the lake?
Perhaps… but Vor knew better not to trust the mere appearances. His clairvoyant instincts made him think that something else, an entity was causing the unsettling of a whole land. It was amazing how many secrets a thing insignificant as a breeze could hide.

Secrets of the past, present and future always revealed themselves to the wandering prophet.

Atop of a flying carpet the prophet stood, traveling with moderate speed through the diminutive forest. A glance to the sky would bring a strange appearance into his eye sight, it looked like a shadow at first, a cloud illuminated only by the moon. But it moved and soon descended to the ground, disappearing into the abundance of the old trees. Once with its descent, the woods returned to their dormant state.
Placed together, the pieces of this puzzle would give certainty over the things Vor’angkoo already knew. It was a warm and comforting feeling, deep inside him he always doubted his own sanity.

The silent carpet pushed forward along the pathway, carrying its master towards the lake, making him witness a soft tune whistled by a fisherman. A strange was carried into the tune.

“Oh you, the tune which brings death…”

Moments after his arrival, the unholy thing occurred. The hunter threw himself at the throat of his prey and soon, after a short struggle, delighted himself into its blood.
All along Vor remained just an observer, why would he interfere in the course of things? It was the harsh law of the nature.
It was as if the metallic taste of the blood reached the tip of its tongue as well, his ability to foresee things sometimes manifested to one or more of his five sensors.

A vampire, a child of the night... He is an interesting subject to behold and study. Vor stepped off the now stationary carpet and made his way slowly to the hunter, the sound of his steps inexistent, only his voice would give him away.

“We are all slaves to our inner desires and needs, aren’t we, child of the night? You delight yourself barbarically with the blood of this man who unwillingly offered it to you… To sustain your eternal yet troubled existence. Is your life so devoid of meaning that you get hooked on the one thing that seemingly fills this void? Or am I wrong, and you live for greater things?”

Probably his appearance was even stranger than that of the vampire, he wore finely-crafted robes of a dark-blue color, with a hood covering his face. His complexion was like that of the sky’s color, yet, the few rays of the moon brushing over it made him look pale. A wooden staff was firmly held in his left hand, using it to climb himself on the rock the fishermen stood earlier. His attitude was not at all a hostile one, on the contrary it was quite friendly.

Meanwhile, the response of the vampire would probably be something to look forward to.

Valerik momentarily ceased his feasting when he heard a sound coming through the air. It was the beginning of speech, “We are all slaves to our inner desires and needs, aren’t we, child of the night? You delight yourself barbarically with the blood of this man who unwillingly offered it to you… To sustain your eternal yet troubled existence. Is your life so devoid of meaning that you get hooked on the one thing that seemingly fills this void? Or am I wrong, and you live for greater things?” the figure behind him said.

Valerik's eyes widened. A witness to his crime was behind him, a witness who knew what Valerik had done, what he was. This witness could be the one who ended this vampire's unholy life, ceasing the plague that he spread upon Arda. Valerik extracted one final pint of blood before removing his fangs from the dead body, rising as he did so. He turned to face his advocate.

The man had a bluish tinge to his features, his body strong and well muscled. His foot steps were silent, leaving no sound penetrating the softness of the forest. Valerik then finally awoke from his feeding frenzy. Blood ran all down from his mouth, onto his shirt. He quickly held up a hand, and rushed over to the lake a few feet away. He cupped his hands, wiping his face clear of the liquid. He left his shirt in the state it was in, not bothering to clear it from the signs of murder that he recently committed.

The hooded man used his staff to ascend the rock the fisherman stood upon. Valerik turned, watching as he did so. His position and gestures were friendly, as if wanting a debate. Valerik would be more than happy to not fight someone, but rather have a discussion, maybe even perhaps about what he had just done. He spread out his hands in an apologetic gesture, "Before I continue to respond," he said formally, "Perhaps I should dispose of that carrion," and with that he held the body firmly and lifted it, carrying it to the fringes of the forest. He dropped the body uncaringly, and swiftly walked back over to the bluish mage.

"Do I live for a greater purpose?" Valerik chuckled, "No, I do not wish to worship gods or revere ancient spirits, but rather conquer. I do not want to be a god slayer, or a merciless warlord. I wish to conquer, no, understand to its fullest extent, lightning." Valerik told him, admitting to his greatest love. "I wish to know magic, spells, enchantments, summonings, everything!" He exclaimed. "Lightning is so," he searched for the correct word, "powerful. I wish to wield lightning, use it to conquer my foes."

I stood there watching, afraid..I couldnt move..I quivered hoping he wasnt found..Looks at Valerik with great fear..Being some how sucked in close..as he walks closer and closer, unable to control his feet. Tears almost came from his eyes staring up at him..Wants to run in terror, but cant, his feet are stuck, numb.."Help me..."

A dismissive gesture was shown towards the man. In spite of the disturbance such a crime could bring to someone, Vor remained seemingly uncaring and unaffected, yet the scent of blood still invaded his nostrils and mouth. He stood there on the cold rock, contemplative of his surroundings, the night was once more peaceful.

“From the beginning of time, the silence comes not just before the storm, but afterwards as well…”

His grey eyes watched the figure of the vampire as he departed to give the dead body of the fisherman to the wild. The forest will become his grave, and with that: May he rest in peace!.
“How many of them were, I wonder, do you use them as something to mark each passing day of your troubled existence?” Of course that was a rhetorical question which required no answer whatsoever.

Soon the vampire was back, changed from the beast he was earlier into a sentient and communicative being, meditative even? Perhaps...
In anyway it was better than being aggressive. The man resumed the talk, sharing his greater love with a strange, the love for lightning and its power. His greatest purpose in life or better said unlife was to conquer his foes with the power of lightning. The conversation was advancing without any obstacles, the man was opening up to Vor making it easy for the prophet to read him. Not wishing to revere gods and other spirits was understandable, submitting to the power of some powerful entity was not something everyone was able to achieve. His dreaded nature already submitted him to its bloody will.

“Lightning… powerful indeed, a restless spirit you wish to contain and control…” His right hand rose, revealing itself to the vampire. Atop of his palm and between his fingers a miniature bolt of red lighting was contained, he had no doubts that he was not the only one able to do that, and yet…

“Such kind of lighting you speak of, and if it is, what would you give it in return for the help to conquer your foes? However, my real question only now will come: could you deal with so much power and remain uncorrupted by it?

Valerik heard the bluish mage murmur something as he disposed of the corpse. “From the beginning of time, the silence comes not just before the storm, but afterwards as well…” This man was obviously of the wise type, speaking in riddle, or at least in words Valerik was unsure to decipher: or just to lazy to do so. Then the mage conjured a small bolt of red lightning, almost as crimson as the blood stained on his shirt. “Lightning… powerful indeed, a restless spirit you wish to contain and control…” the mage declared.

“Such kind of lighting you speak of, and if it is, what would you give it in return for the help to conquer your foes? However, my real question only now will come: could you deal with so much power and remain uncorrupted by it?" said the mage. Valerik chuckled at this statement. In fact, he began to laugh so hard he had to grab his stomach to regulate his breathing. He did not need to worry about being corrupted by power, he was already corrupted.

'For a very wise man, he just said one of the most foolish things I ever heard!' Valerik thought, amused at the man's blindness. "You need not to worry about my corruption," Valerik said with a touch of sarcasm. Vampires, zombies, lich, all undead in general were corrupted. Undead had achieved immortal life, through death. Most mortals found this an incredibly difficult concept to understand. Life by death was a confusing prospect, and often folk despise things that they do not quite comprehend as well as other things.

"I am corrupted," Valerik said seriously, his eyes removing themselves to the lightning and to the fellow he was talking to, "Vampires are corrupted beings merely by living. The power of lightning will not corrupt me, but merely enhance my current malfeasance. And this corruption is exactly why I choose to seek the powers of lightning," Valerik admitted, admitting to the mage his greatest desires.

He was not sure why exactly he was discussing these matters to a very eccentric mage. Something about this mage, this night, the circumstances that caused Valerik to spill his greatest desires to the mage, who was seemingly uncaring of the recent murder. This was one of those rare occurrences were Valerik could feed, be spotted doing the heinus act, and then not have to flee, or kill the informer, but rather in this circumstance have a brilliant discussion, explaining all that he lived for.

Did the prophet really look as if he was worrying?

His hand turned into a fist making the small lighting disappear to the same nothing from which it came from. The vampire began to laugh at his statement, to mock him even. If that was all he could do, Vor couldn’t blame him, and he didn’t. On the one hand it wasn’t expected for the vampire to understand his words to the their fullest of meaning, so perhaps he should explain them to him.

“Indeed you are, cursed by nature and a curse for the nature. But you are mistaking the meaning of word corruption with that of the word curse. Vampires are cursed beings merely by living…” He corrected the man by stressing his words. “Also they are corrupted by their inner hunger for blood in which they all have to succumb. I don’t blame them and I don’t blame you for having to slaughter in order to survive, for the simple fact that it does make me wonder who has the most control over this shell you call a body…” His hand showing into the direction of the vampire. “Yourself, or the hunger within?”

And with those last words, he took a long pause, his gaze turning to the moon. Aware he was and fully understood the principle of achieving eternal life through death, as confusing as it might sound and with the many sacrifices undertaken by those who sought for such thing, some were turned unwillingly, but eventually they all ended up the same.

The pause would be giving time for the vampire to think and to meditate on the words which earlier escaped through the prophet’s lips and respond to them as he sees fit. The nature of his personality and things about him were becoming clearer by each passing second.
And soon the silence would be broken again, by the same manifesting voice.

“The same goes with the lightning, my friend. Would you be able to withstand its influence?”

Vor’angkoo was an eternal wanderer, his greatest purpose in existence being to gains much knowledge as he could hold, and even with quite a vast repertoire of arcane tricks, he fought only if threatened or something disturbed him to a very unearthly point. He does not judge and does not blame, he emphasizes the purest of neutralities existing in the world.

Valerik's jesting ending quickly with the serious words of the mage. “Indeed you are, cursed by nature and a curse for the nature. But you are mistaking the meaning of word corruption with that of the word curse. Vampires are cursed beings merely by living... Also they are corrupted by their inner hunger for blood in which they all have to succumb. I don’t blame them and I don’t blame you for having to slaughter in order to survive, for the simple fact that it does make me wonder who has the most control over this shell you call a body…Yourself, or the hunger within?”

The magical red lightning faded into the mage's closing palm, the arcane energy snuffed out like a candle. Valerik searched his mind for a response, questioning himself by the provocative words. The silence was broken by the mysterious voice, “The same goes with the lightning, my friend. Would you be able to withstand its influence?” Valerik paused again, and finally came up with a response.

He held his head down low, his long hair flowing down his slumped shoulders. "Vampires are not cursed, but rather blessed," Valerik remarked with a scowl, proud of his unnatural abilities and prowess. "What controls a vampire?" Valerik asked rhetorically, "Am I controlled by the hunger, driven by the thirst for blood, or am I a sentient being, capable of controlling myself to the fullest extent?" Valerik said.

He was not sure of the answer himself. Often times, he would enter one of these 'blood crazes', attacking all he saw, the overwhelming desire for blood surpassing his common sense. These unnatural cravings became more and more frequent through out the ages, it seemed, and his hunger became more and more insatiable. Valerik scowled, not wanting to admit the whole truth.

He did not want to make himself seem as some kind of monster, like a werewolf with a desire for flesh. Vampires were sentient, yet the old mercenary had an appetite that had pitted himself against his allies on several occasions. Yet he did not wish to be portrayed as a creature that was despicable and uncontrollable. He did not truly bieleve he was a monster: but he did understand that he did have an insatiable hunger.

"I can control myself, wield my craze for blood as an advantage in combat," Valerik fibbed, bending the truth slightly. He was more determined to fight when on a frenzy for blood, but did not quite do so against actual opponents, more on civilians. "I am capable of controlling myself, and controlling lightning," Valerik snapped. "The thirst for blood and lightning merely drives me on. It is no different than your love for magic," Valerik said, guessing that this mage was indeed a powerful magician.