The early morning hours of January 30th
The darkness that hangs over the surroundings is heavy, creating a quiet uncommon to her ears. Snowflakes dance on the light breeze and they catch on her eyelashes and in her hair. Her glowing green eyes close at the sensation, and she inhales deeply the scent of smoke, food, alcohol and a myriad of others that she can't place.
She had been a fool to believe she was able to overcome her thirst for long. Korlian's words had calmed her. He had said she was strong, had spoken highly of her for knowing the difference between slaking that thirst and running in the opposite direction. However, Korlian was not here now. She needed something, needed someone to focus on. However, Alex was not here either. And it was no use in a place that was literally dripping with magical essence.
Jalleia?s gloved hands lift to her brow and the leather sweeps beads of sweat from it. Her hands are shaky, and from the glow her eyes cast, she can see that clearly. She forces her eyes ahead, inhaling and exhaling as she hopes to calm down.
It is the hour when Night Owls hoot and mill about from place to place. She can hear their laughter from around corners and through windows as she passes them.
She walks down a street she doesn't know and is instantly overcome with that same urge. There is a bar to her left, and a small caf? to her right. Despite the hour, the caf? is jammed with people wanting to escape the cold night air with a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. Fingers rise to her temple and she massages it, feeling the magic of the motion deep in her mind. She will be fine.
An explosion racks the innards of the bar, and the Jalleia?s attentions are drawn. Then there is laughter.. it's nothing serious. But the magic she feels from within makes her shudder. It was powerful, too powerful for what she believes is a show of prowess. "A novice.. " she mutters under her breath, staring through the cloud that her words create in the cold air.
But there was no mistaking her motions as she moves towards the window like a moth to a flame, staring through the frosted windows at the multicolored heads of those gathered. She can see the sparks of the aftermath of the spell as they flutter to the floor. A tall male pats a female on the back, the latter of which she presumes is the culprit. Two other females and one male are watching in awe as the caster lifts her tankard in a toast. The rest do the same and there is a unanimous cheer. Jalleia?s leathered are plastered to the glass as she watches the group, glowing greens locked onto the young woman with dark, royal purple hair.
Then something happens that she does not expect. The female got up to leave.
Quickly, Jalleia slips into the shadows of the corner of the building and leans to watch the smaller woman leave. She?s calling and waving to her friends that she would be fine, not to worry, that she knows these streets like the back of her hand. She smiles devilishly to herself as she gives the female a bit of a head start.
Jalleia wears her hair loose when she hunts, and as she moves, it flutters behind her in a light curtain of shimmering gold. Her outfit is dark and draping; maroon, golden and black in hue, it brushes the faint layer of snow upon the ground, trailing after her. She leaves no footsteps behind her. The dark wool trench coat buttoned across her stomach keeps out the cold.
The smaller female turns right, then left. Jalleia hides in the shadows and closes her eyes to keep from being seen as the female turns around and calls ?Is anyone there?? In a few moments, she turns and begins to jog.
She veers left down a thin alley between two tall buildings. Jalleia can see a fountain in the distance, the water spurting upwards and sparkling in its fluid dance in the moonlight. She feels no other presence and breaks into a run. Her long legs pound the ground, closing the distance between herself and the smaller female who had whipped around, her hands aglow with a red aura.
Jalleia ducks and rolls to the right as the female lifts her hands with a shrill yell. The crimson bolts fly off into the distance and the abandoned cart in its way erupts into flames and splinters. The Highborne?s eyes never leave the female as they circle each other like wolves, waiting for the other to attack. She can all but taste the magic falling from the female?s body, spreading around her in a halo of invisible, delicious waves.
?WHAT DO YOU WANT?!? the female shrieks, but instead of answering, Jalleia speeds towards her and fakes a left attack. When the female turns, Jalleia smashes the outside of her left hand into her throat. She drops instantly, the red glow about her fingers crackles into nothingness.
Jalleia grabs her roughly by the collar and drags her towards the fountain, propping her up when she gets there. She tilts the female?s head back against the fountain?s edge and removes the glove of her right hand, placing it over the female?s face. Her fingers curl deep into the female?s flesh, pinpricks of crimson light sparkling at the contact points.
She feels the magical essence sink into her body like water to a sponge, replenishing her, completing her, and her maroon lips spread into a wicked sneer, glowing greens flickering ever brighter as she partakes.
The process takes less than three minutes, and when she?s finished, the female?s chest deflates as the last breath of life leaves her body. Jalleia?s fingertips still maintain a crimson glow as she pulls them from the female?s face. With her index finger, she controls a thin jet of magic, carving symbols into the skin of the female?s forehead. Blood pools and drips down the female?s brow in narrow, dainty rivers.
Jalleia assesses her handiwork with no more than a sniff and abruptly turns from the scene, leaving the female?s body without a second thought. Her pace slows to the previous, lazy gait that she?s so accustomed to and she smoothes golden tendrils of hair down before she replaces her glove on her now stilled hands.
The darkness that hangs over the surroundings is heavy, creating a quiet uncommon to her ears. Snowflakes dance on the light breeze and they catch on her eyelashes and in her hair. Her glowing green eyes close at the sensation, and she inhales deeply the scent of smoke, food, alcohol and a myriad of others that she can't place.
She had been a fool to believe she was able to overcome her thirst for long. Korlian's words had calmed her. He had said she was strong, had spoken highly of her for knowing the difference between slaking that thirst and running in the opposite direction. However, Korlian was not here now. She needed something, needed someone to focus on. However, Alex was not here either. And it was no use in a place that was literally dripping with magical essence.
Jalleia?s gloved hands lift to her brow and the leather sweeps beads of sweat from it. Her hands are shaky, and from the glow her eyes cast, she can see that clearly. She forces her eyes ahead, inhaling and exhaling as she hopes to calm down.
It is the hour when Night Owls hoot and mill about from place to place. She can hear their laughter from around corners and through windows as she passes them.
She walks down a street she doesn't know and is instantly overcome with that same urge. There is a bar to her left, and a small caf? to her right. Despite the hour, the caf? is jammed with people wanting to escape the cold night air with a cup of coffee or hot chocolate. Fingers rise to her temple and she massages it, feeling the magic of the motion deep in her mind. She will be fine.
An explosion racks the innards of the bar, and the Jalleia?s attentions are drawn. Then there is laughter.. it's nothing serious. But the magic she feels from within makes her shudder. It was powerful, too powerful for what she believes is a show of prowess. "A novice.. " she mutters under her breath, staring through the cloud that her words create in the cold air.
But there was no mistaking her motions as she moves towards the window like a moth to a flame, staring through the frosted windows at the multicolored heads of those gathered. She can see the sparks of the aftermath of the spell as they flutter to the floor. A tall male pats a female on the back, the latter of which she presumes is the culprit. Two other females and one male are watching in awe as the caster lifts her tankard in a toast. The rest do the same and there is a unanimous cheer. Jalleia?s leathered are plastered to the glass as she watches the group, glowing greens locked onto the young woman with dark, royal purple hair.
Then something happens that she does not expect. The female got up to leave.
Quickly, Jalleia slips into the shadows of the corner of the building and leans to watch the smaller woman leave. She?s calling and waving to her friends that she would be fine, not to worry, that she knows these streets like the back of her hand. She smiles devilishly to herself as she gives the female a bit of a head start.
Jalleia wears her hair loose when she hunts, and as she moves, it flutters behind her in a light curtain of shimmering gold. Her outfit is dark and draping; maroon, golden and black in hue, it brushes the faint layer of snow upon the ground, trailing after her. She leaves no footsteps behind her. The dark wool trench coat buttoned across her stomach keeps out the cold.
The smaller female turns right, then left. Jalleia hides in the shadows and closes her eyes to keep from being seen as the female turns around and calls ?Is anyone there?? In a few moments, she turns and begins to jog.
She veers left down a thin alley between two tall buildings. Jalleia can see a fountain in the distance, the water spurting upwards and sparkling in its fluid dance in the moonlight. She feels no other presence and breaks into a run. Her long legs pound the ground, closing the distance between herself and the smaller female who had whipped around, her hands aglow with a red aura.
Jalleia ducks and rolls to the right as the female lifts her hands with a shrill yell. The crimson bolts fly off into the distance and the abandoned cart in its way erupts into flames and splinters. The Highborne?s eyes never leave the female as they circle each other like wolves, waiting for the other to attack. She can all but taste the magic falling from the female?s body, spreading around her in a halo of invisible, delicious waves.
?WHAT DO YOU WANT?!? the female shrieks, but instead of answering, Jalleia speeds towards her and fakes a left attack. When the female turns, Jalleia smashes the outside of her left hand into her throat. She drops instantly, the red glow about her fingers crackles into nothingness.
Jalleia grabs her roughly by the collar and drags her towards the fountain, propping her up when she gets there. She tilts the female?s head back against the fountain?s edge and removes the glove of her right hand, placing it over the female?s face. Her fingers curl deep into the female?s flesh, pinpricks of crimson light sparkling at the contact points.
She feels the magical essence sink into her body like water to a sponge, replenishing her, completing her, and her maroon lips spread into a wicked sneer, glowing greens flickering ever brighter as she partakes.
The process takes less than three minutes, and when she?s finished, the female?s chest deflates as the last breath of life leaves her body. Jalleia?s fingertips still maintain a crimson glow as she pulls them from the female?s face. With her index finger, she controls a thin jet of magic, carving symbols into the skin of the female?s forehead. Blood pools and drips down the female?s brow in narrow, dainty rivers.
Jalleia assesses her handiwork with no more than a sniff and abruptly turns from the scene, leaving the female?s body without a second thought. Her pace slows to the previous, lazy gait that she?s so accustomed to and she smoothes golden tendrils of hair down before she replaces her glove on her now stilled hands.