Her pale skin and white hair were hidden behind a black cloak which blended in with the night sky. Normally, she did not really care who looked at her, but tonight she was a little thirsty and there were few people she could take in a fair fight. Tonight, she depended upon her stealth to get away with murder, literally.

She spotted her prey, a rather large guard, standing alone in front of one of the smaller ships. Judging by the condition of the ship, she was a little surprised they could even afford one guard, but she doubted that there were any more.

Silently, she moved up behind the guy, breathing on his neck ever so slightly. However, when he twirled around to see what was there, she had already moved. She giggled quietly; her voice eerie in the night. Once again, by the time that he was looking at where she had stood, she was no longer there. He was one of those blundering types, scary looking for sheer bulk, and she hoped this was a sign of lots of blood. Surely, his red face was a good sign.

He clutched his bastard sword in both hands, waving it around so wildly that Kiara actually had to be a little careful around him. She stepped back, watching the panic on his face. To her, this was half the fun, sure the reward was sweet, but the fear she struck into the heart of every victim was what made her day, or night as it were.

However, all the fun in the world could only last so long when a person was as thirsty as she was. It had reached that point. She took a step back, giving him a moment to calm down. Once he was no longer swinging, she made her way behind him, unsheathing her dagger.

She slipped off her hood, revealing an almost child-like face that somehow held evidence of years past though no wrinkles existed."Don't worry, this won't take long." Before he even had time to scream, she ran her dagger across his throat, deep enough to sever his vocal chords as well as open his jugular. Blood spewed forth, running all over her fingers.

She giggled gleefully before putting her lips to his neck, drinking in the sweet nectar of his life, even as his last breath gurgled from the open wound. Blood now covered all around her mouth, creating a starch contrast to her delicate white skin.

She let him drop to the ground in a puddle of murky water as she started to lick her fingers clean with a horrible smile on her face. Truthfully, if it had been chocolate, the scene might have been cute, but the crimson made the entire scene disturbing.

A figure wrapped closely in a cape stumbled down the street. Her steps were marked by a heavy footfall then a light, from a bad limp she had acrued after a short sting as a tavern bouncer. Her normal goals were somewher far more, bloody, now a days, but the angel was far too weak to complete those goals. The cape itself was moth eaten and battered, and held an old, obscure sigil. It was the sign of the Desert Faction, lead by one of the four riders of apocalypse.

Her tired eyes roamed around until she saw heard the slightest of shouts in the distance. She hobbled off in the general direction of the shout, hoping she could pick up whatever the likely murder left her. A minute of painful walking had lead her to a pool of blood and a girl above it. Seria stepped back, her eyes wide and fully awake momentarily.

"What...are you?" She murmured. Immediatly she grabbed the hilt of her old katana, the ancient battle blade ready to dole out more justice. Except there was the slightest of problems, as the hilt broke off from the blade as she drew it. In shock, she raised the object to her face for those few, critical seconds. It tumbled out of her hand as her eyes became even wider with fear.

"Please leave me in peace, that's all I ask!" Seria screamed. She stepped back into the wall of the alley way, petrified with fright. Her old days of fighting, a fearless blade rushed back to her. The fear of a cripple, however, held it down. Her first reaction was to open her wings, but one of them was broken. The pain had just numbed as the wing set in the wrong position.

Her first question seemed a little useless, how many bloodsucking creatures that looked human where there? The thought made her giggle, yet her cold, lifeless black eyes held no mirth.

Kiara tilted her head ever so slightly, looking at the woman while licking the blood off her lips suggestively. Another bubble of laughter escaped her lips as she watched the woman draw her pathetic weapon which proceeded to fall apart.

The woman's scream echoed through her head, oh how she had missed that sound. She closed her eyes, not exactly worried that the woman was going to run away. Her limp had not gone unnoticed. Perhaps, if she took some time to kill her, she could draw out more screams. Thoughtfully, she wiped her face clean with the edge of her cloak, the black covering up the blood stains.

The guard had been a hearty meal, but the woman, well, she could be dessert. The woman was begging her to leave her alone, most who saw her coming had that same reaction, though she was not sure why they thought it would do them any good. Pity was not a sentiment she succumbed to often.

As the woman spread her wings, Kiara could not help but smile all the more. What could be sweeter than an angel? She tried to keep her smile pleasant, though she doubted she was able to keep out the emptiness.

"My dear lady..." She started with a bow, sweeping back her cloak to reveal a strapless red corset with black ribbons on it and a tattered looking purple skirt. "I only kill what I am going to eat. After this meal," indicating the man that lay at her feet, now completely drained of blood. "do you really expect me to want more? And any way, you seem a little worse for the wear. So, by your leave, I shall be on my way." Even her voice held a child-like quality.

She began to walk towards the woman, but it was as if she were going to pass her by. She waited until she was right beside the woman before she turned to her with another smile.

"Then again, I have always said, waste not, want not..." With the agility of an assassin, she pounced upon the woman's neck, sinking her sharp teeth into the woman's jugular as blood splashed over her newly cleaned face.

For a moment her stature had calmed, she was safe. The woman was just going to let her go, and she would be able to live on in her meagre existence. Then the woman turned, and Seria found herself bitten. She grabbed at the woman, weakly, and attempted to shove her off to no avail. A single thought surfaced, and she had to wonder, what would happen if she?

Great Goddess of Fate! Let your last follower live! She prayed, and her answer came quickly enough. As nearly enough blood for unconsciousness was drained, Seria's eyes fluttered closed. She collapsed on the ground in a heap, the broken wings fluttering their last. A single feather alit in flame, and it spread like wildfire across her crumpled form. In moments a nine foot pillar of flame was licking the air, and the scent of burnt feathers had consumed the air. Then out of the fire came a burning hand, groping into the night sky. The hand retreated, and then the woman simply stepped out of the fires. There had been no true physical change to her, other than the fact she no longer had wings.

Always a balance, isn't it. I lose my wings to live... She thought to herself. What stepped out in strong comparison to the other woman in manner alone was stunning. She held herself to her full nearly seven foot height, her eyes cold. An odd grin set upon her face as a demonic fang slid out of her mouth. She sensed the great evil and great power within the one who had nearly killed her.

"You, have you ever heard of the Apocalypse Alliance? Or am I going to have to gut you with my bare hands?" She murmured. The voice had no true emotion, so it was near impossible to detect her true motives. The once destroyed cape blew in a gust of wind rather proudly, the full insignia of the desert faction gracing her back.

She had let the woman go and taken a step back, wiping the excess blood with the back of her hand. Her suspicions were well founded, the woman's blood was unusually sweet. Not long after she stepped back, something odd happened. The woman caught on fire.

In all the years that she had been killing people, she had never had a victim spontaneously combust. The fire was not a small one; it reached above the one story building the woman had been leaning against. Her head tilted again as she watched the scene before her. She was accustomed to the smell of burnt flesh, and that was not what she smelled.

First a hand, then the rest of the woman made its way out of the inferno, yet there was no damage from the flames to her skin or hair. The only thing that was different was the lack of wings. Kiara knew that was not the only thing that had changed, she could feel a new confidence, a new power, in the woman that had been locked away before.

Honestly, when the woman threatened her for the first time, Kiara believed she would do exactly as she said. Even with heels on her black boots, the woman was about one and a half feet taller than she was. Kiara looked up at the woman who had mentioned the Riders. It was not something talked about in civil conversation, but then, neither of them were civilized.

She nodded in deference to the woman, turning her shoulders ever so slightly so that she could see the Armies of the Abyss tattoo on her left shoulder blade. A different faction of the same guild she had mentioned"I am intimately aware of them. I am sorry for having attacked you, but you must realize that you did not seem like a guild member...."

Being a member had saved the woman from being killed. The woman threw her katana off with considerable disgust, and sized up the new guild member. Her eyes studied her momentarily, and they narrowed into slits. This girl would be useless for anything excepting magic. Seria believed in a certain amount of weapons skill, but she wasn't a Rider. They decided who got in and who didn't, and not some old member.

"Good then. An Armies of the Abyss member? Huh, they are letting children in now a days. Must be getting desperate." Seria explained. The newly reborn demonness walked around the girl. No doubt she was fuming at her comments, and that was her goal. Anger revealed everything about someone, and especially their weaknesses. She stopped as she walked directly in front of the vampire.

"But where are my manners? My name is Seria Sentrandai, I would be a member of the Desert Faction. All those years ago I was someone, girl, I was someone feared." Seria continued. She didn't look like someone who would be feared, with all of her gentle, beautiful features. The rose in her hair did nothing but to make her look even more harmless. The only hint to her demon blood was her razor sharp teeth. Then came a familiar feeling, and her attention switched to the exact location of the Desert Faction.

"And it appears I ride again. Famine must want me back. But now I must figure out what caused you to be so eager to kill me, vamp." Seria said. Her hand ran itself along the part of the neck where she had been bitten. Twin scars had replaced it, and she stopped from doing something spiteful. No matter what this girl had done, Seria would keep to the rules of the Alliance. Her rapid descent to a street bound cripple had been enough shame.

She sighed, crossing her arms as the woman walked around her. She felt as if she were about to get a fitting for a new dress. That always made her fidgety, but this one was a little more intense. Even still, she could not help but change her arm positions every once and a while, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

The woman's words were harsh to say the least, and Kiara could feel wrath seething from every pore of the woman. However, her words did not bring a return in anger. Kiara was only too aware that anger would not do her any good. At this point she was overshadowed by a superior. Kiara very seldom lost her temper, and calling her young when she was very young looking was not about to set her off. Instead, she smiled at the woman's mistake in believing her young.

The woman introduced herself as Seria Sentrandai, and for the first time, Kiara felt a little silly. Of course, she had heard of the woman; she was practically a legend. However, that did not explain what she was doing here, or why she had been in such poor condition.

"Madame Sentrandai, it was indeed my mistake. My name is Kiara Dempsey, and I may not be as young as you seem to suppose. While I know that I cannot take back my previous actions, but considering the outcome... Before, you looked ready to crumble at the slightest touch; now you can once again be feared. This being said, if you require my blood in payment, I will be happy to oblige."

Her voice remained steady and reasonable, no hint of fear or anger slipped in. At she ended, she tilted her head, exposing her neck. She doubted Seria's sharp teeth were for show.

She was a madame now? This was a shock to Seria. She prefered being called beautiful over getting recognized as anything but a swordswoman. And she hated being called beautiful. No matter how she looked, her mind would never be beauty, and she hated the other examples of beauty on Arda. Seria looked at the other woman's exposed neck, and her eyebrow arched upwards.

"These teeth are for steak, not drinking blood. I hate the flavor, personally." Seria explained. Her eyes glared at her katana once more, and she began to walk from the alley. She stopped before leaving it's protective shadows entirely, and she glanced back to the vampire. Realizing that she may as well explain her story, Seria leaned up against the wall.

"Hmmm, where to start as to why I was in a disentegrating body. Well, after my infamous years with the riders, I decided to leave them for a time. It proved to be a devastating mistake, as I ended up working in very bad taverns. The type of tavern that would overlook a murder to keep the gold flowing. Well, as you can guess, I came down with the plague. It weakened me severely, turning every day and everynight into agony. I broke a wing and one of my legs when I fell down a set of Lomedor's massive stairs. I didn't have the money to get it set, and the Alliance had no use of me so I couldn't go to them for assistance. In time, the bone healed, but not for it being crippled and warped. After that, I couldn't get jobs, and I relied on charity to pay for my living. I wasn't strong enough mentally or physically to just take what I required." Seria explained. Her body, as powerful as it could be, had fought off the plague for years before it truly took hold within her.

"But enough on such subjects, I wish to know if you wouldn't mind getting me some meat. Preferably not that of a humanoid creature, okay?" Seria explained. She smiled wickedly with her rows of carnivorous teeth offsetting the beauty of her face. She wondered whether or not her former fame would allow her a bite to eat. Sentrandai finally knew what it was to be hungry.

Kiara listened attentively, wondering why the woman thought she needed to tell her all this. Then again, she was a little intrigued as to how she had come to be in such a state. It would seem that the woman had not had an easy couple of years.

Her request for meat seemed anything but unreasonable. Unfortunately, Kiara did not keep money on her. Her only need was blood, and that was found in plenty is any city. She thought for a moment, before remembering her previous kill. Taking out her knife, she made an incision on the palm of her hand, allowing the blood to drip onto the ground before it coagulated. There was a scar on that hand as if she had done this often. Her eyes closed as she smiled; it had been a while since she had performed any magic, and it felt good.

Behind them, a rustling was heard. Then came a jingling, someone was taking their coin purse out. She loved it when guards were paid up front. The once dead guard came walking over, his head tilted back unnaturally because of the deep gash in his neck. He held out the purse, which she happily took before sending him to walk himself into the waters of the port, leaving only a trail of blood behind.

“Well, I suppose this should buy you some meat. Were you wanting something fresh or nicely cooked?” She wondered if perhaps she should just give Seria the money, or if she wanted Kiara to dine with her.

Seria's mind raced at that question. She had loved steak cooked oh so well, but now she had the oddest craving. She wanted it raw. A steak that dripped blood, and had that succulent texture to it. Most people were afraid of raw meat, but Seria had to admit, she wasn't. Was this a part of becoming a demonness?

"Hmmm, I'd like it raw, actually. I know of a slaughter house not far from here." Seria said. The demonness walked down the street with an odd, dancelike grace, the mark of an expert swordswoman. The untrained eye would think her drunken, or perhaps in another sort of trance entirely. Swaying left and right she made her way down the street, her hands even clenching twin blades. A thief smirked at her, and slipped up alongside of her. Seria smiled to him, and her wicked teeth explained the rest. He darted off, and she continued to waltz down the street. By the end of it, she was even humming as she walked into a slaughter house.

"Hmmm, I would like the rib eye cut, raw, of course." She said, still swaying from side to side. The man looked at the seemingly drugged woman, and laughed.

"You don't have a gold on you, fool cripple, I've seen you walking down the stree-" Her said, and then was immediatly cut off. Her hand was around his wrist, and it appeared to be clenched rather tightly. At least from the grimace on the man's face.

"Be a sweetheart now and get me the steak, I've got some money." Seria said, her voice ice cold.

To her, cooked meat was like killing the animal all over again. She occassionally enjoyed a good filet mignon raw. That was about the only meat she would eat, even then it was a rare occassion. She felt no pangs of hunger, only thirst, and that never seemed to leave.

She followed after the woman, tucking the pouch into her cloak along with her dagger. The woman had an odd way of walking; she had been around enough swordsmen to recognize the style. Even still, it had always struck her as odd.

Once they got to the slaughterhouse, Seria got right to ordering. Kiara would have probably just killed the merchant, but Seria seemed to want to do this without bloodshe. Kiara's appetite for blood was curbed for now. The guy seemed to not be in a pleasant mood, but Seria's was taking care of that. Kiara walked up to stand beside her. She smiled, revealing her own pair of canines.

"Do not worry about the money," she placed the sack of coins on the counter, "that is taken care of. Just get the lady her meat. Now!"

Never once, did she raise her voice. Instead, the intensity seemed to spike with the last word, coming out as more of an animalistic growl than an actual word.

Seria's grip finally loosened, and the butcher walked off. Her eyes traced over to her companion, where they narrowed once more. She drifted behind Kiara, wraithlike, and whispered into her ear,"You know, a vampire's fangs a very recognizable. He's coming back with a stake." She then drifted back to where she was initially. The man came back with a rather large steak. Her eyes caught the slightest of movements, and then came her turn.

He lunged forwards at Kiara armed with a wooden stake. Sentrandai moved with such a fluid motion one would assume this all choreographed before hand. Her hand came up on his wrist, and stopped him. Her other hand gripped his elbow. With a swift motion, she rammed his elbow upwards, to the point it straightened out. She held it there momentarily, and then she pushed upwards once more. With a delightful snap, his elbow broke, and he looked at it. The pain had consumed the man, and as Seria let his arm fall, she had enough time to make her next move. She leapt over the counter using a single hand as a support, and kicked the man down. He slammed against the cold tile floor, and got to watch in horror as a heeled shoe came down into his throat. Blood spurted upwards, coating it, but Seria didn't seem to mind.

"A long time ago I told myself these things were useless." Seria said, glaring at her shoe. She pulled it from his throat, and whiped it off with his clothing. Her other hand snagged the steak, and she tore a chunk out of it with her teeth. Her eyes lit up before turning stone cold.

"Raw isn't bad at all." She said. Seria drifted around the counter, steak in hand, and smiled.

"Anything at all you wish to do, I'll help for tonight, I can offer my services as a fighter for thanks of being both a fellow Alliance member and allowing for my rebirth." Seria explained. She tore another chunk out of her steak with a pleased grin, perhaps the only one Kiara would ever see out of the woman.

She sighed as the woman spoke to her. Obviously, the woman underestimated her abilities, but she was used to that. What did she care if the man came back with stakes? He would not be able to catch her, and it would give her an excuse to kill the man. She missed the down side.

On the other hand, she was content to let Seria dispose of him the way she wished. After the man was dead, Kiara just made her way over to the counter, pulling herself up onto the counter, with her feet dangling off, swinging back and forth.

"I thought they worked pretty well, and I am glad you like raw. That is not my favorite cut by far." She pushed the coins towards the woman. "You can keep these, I really have no use for them. As for help, I really don't know what you could help me with. I had no plans of attack, and if someone attacks me, well, they will be sad they considered me an easy target. Truly, you have nothing to thank me for, anything I did was for selfish reasons and the alliance has done a lot for me."

Seria nodded, and tore away at her steak. Her free hand snatched up the purse which gave the slightest of jingles. She stepped out the shop backwards, and glanced around the street quickly. Her attention then flicked back to Kiara, where she gave her another tooth filled grin. She flicked the gold into the darkness of her cape, and with a final bow, the demonness stated what she had left.

"Don't be so confident in your abilities. Yes, I can sense the power you wield, however, what if I were to fight you? Hmmm? I was just like you, and it got me stabbed. Pain is the greatest teacher. And I am off to visit my old home, so whenever you get the chance, just stop by." Seria explained. She drifted away in her dance momentarily, and then dashed off. There was a little time left so that if Kiara had anything to say she should do it then. Seria honestly hoped that Kiara would become succesful one day. She reminded her so much of how she used to be.

Except for the evil vampire part. She used to be a good little have angel, other than the fact she was assisting the Riders of the Apocalypse.

She was a little surprised that the woman seemed at all concerned for her. On the other hand, she wondered what were the chances of her meeting another person of Seria's power. True, there were many strange people in this town, but any people she felt were a threat to her, she simply avoided. Avoiding people was a specialty of hers; she could be incredibly sneaky. During the day, she usually spent her time in a tavern, dozing off occassionally, or under the cover of her cloak darting from place to place. She spent a lot of time on Arda's moon or in Morring, there the sun was not a nuisance.

Sometime during the evening, Kiara might have grown on the woman. She could not think of another reason why she would tell her to stop by her old home; Seria was past the point where she would be thinking of killing her. She nodded to the woman with a smile. Her old home, with no further explanation, could only mean the headquarters for the desert faction or that Seria did not truly want her to visit.

She was just about to make some grand goodbye, but she thought better of it. Instead, she simply waved at the woman who was already making her way off. It had been quite the eventful evening, but daytime would be coming soon, and the weather had been annoyingly nice. She wanted to make sure she got to a tavern before she became uncomfortable. That took her in an opposite direction, after one look back and another smile, she was on her way.