Theme 11: Ayden - Week 2

Lots of writing this week. Two pieces uploaded to my site, which you can find links to on the right side of the entrance :) and... that's basically my week. XD I've been trying to get into writing pseudo-chapters for the novel. It's been a total blast. I'm sure I won't use everything as it's written, but it's helping me build on ideas and thoughts and character interactions are making me giddy. XD

Anyway. Week 2 of Ayden! And to stay in the zone, I decided to share one of the turning points in Ayden and Richard's 'relationship', for lack of a better term. Much happened between then and now, which I won't detail :) let's just say that fate has a way of bringing people back together...

Ayden waited in Richard's makeshift home while the Vampire was out to feed – and calm down, Ayden suspected. He returned near dawn, still wiping strings of blood off his face. As soon as he caught sight of Ayden, Richard stiffened; closing the door proved more arduous than expected.

"You're still here, Necromancer?"

"Yes."

Those were not the words Richard had truly meant to say, Ayden knew; or perhaps he had not meant to speak at all, rather let his fangs express his thoughts. It made no difference: Ayden saw within Richard's soul that the Vampire had, reluctantly, accepted the premise that he owed Ayden a debt of gratitude… or, at the very least, that there was nowhere left for him to run and hide lest he submitted to Ayden's will.

Richard went to lean against the farthest cabinet. "So what is it you want from me?"

A good question, Ayden thought; he turned his gaze away from an old, mouldy painting to stare at Richard. Why had he needed this Vampire? Why had he pursued this man to this derelict place? Because I know him… Because I own him... Because…

"Power."

Richard frowned. "'Power'?"

"Yes."

Richard waited for a while. "… And?"

Ayden was unsure how to explain his thoughts; being a mortal, the Vampire's comprehension of the Necrolore was limited. To him, Ayden was certainly no more than a walking corpse; he did not see the world beyond, the darkness, torn apart by his own kind – by every mortal in existence.

"You understand… mortals—"

Richard snorted. "Not really, but go on."

"You understand… power," and, at this, Richard straightened somewhat, "You understand mortal power. You understand… … authority."

Richard frowned, visibly pondering Ayden's words with certain interest. "Authority… Mortal power… What do you mean, Necromancer?"

Frustration lingered on the edge of Ayden's mind. This difficulty to express his thoughts was proof he needed mortals in order to attain his goal – and what exactly was that goal? What is it he tried to achieve? What did he need?

Ayden looked up at the ceiling. A distant memory clarified his thoughts. "I need… higher power. The highest of mortal power. Higher… Higher than… the 'tax collector'."

Richard's eyebrow arched. "'Tax collector'? … Ah. I see where you're heading with this… …A belated grave.

"You're thinking of replacing the Emperor, I take it," Richard stated matter-of-factly, meeting Ayden's hollow gaze, "What makes you think this can be done?"

There was something in Richard's eyes, in his tone – in the calm demeanour of his soul. Ayden's head cocked. "What is it you know?"

"Plenty; this city is rife with plots and assassins. There's an established guild, Atrophy, preparing a coup." Richard shook his head. "Misguided children and their fanatic followers."

"Vampires?"

"Their leaders are Vampires, yes. They have been recruiting."

Ayden sensed hidden depth within those words; had Richard been approached? Had he perhaps declined their invitation? His soul spoke of nothing beyond disdain.

A long while passed in complete silence. Ayden thought he should speak. "And?"

Richard's lips twitched into a partial, brief smile. "And nothing. Grand plans, but no means to carry them out."

Ayden's stare demanded Richard continue his explanation. After a quick glance around the empty room, Richard complied.