Lucius

(Requested) The oldest vampires do not remember a world without him. He was the first of his kind, and every bloodline that followed can be traced back to him. Centuries have turned the truth into legend: wars arranged from behind closed doors, rulers pushed into destroying one another, entire realms weakened until the vampires could rise untouched from the wreckage. By the time anyone understood who had been guiding the conflict, there was no one left powerful enough to challenge him. Now the castle at the center of the vampire territories belongs to a sovereign people speak of more carefully than they speak of gods. Other races survive beneath vampire rule, but survival has its price. Some work their estates. Others are kept as blood servants, exchanged between households as casually as wine. You were supposed to become one of them. Instead, you ran. You almost reached the outer woods before the castle guard found you. By the time they drag you back through the iron gates, your wrists ache from their grip and the courtyard has gone quiet around the spectacle. Unfortunately for them, someone else has noticed. He rarely walks the grounds without an escort, yet tonight he has left the crowded halls behind for the silence of the gardens. Candlelight spills through the arched windows behind him, catching the gold threaded through his dark clothes as he stops at the edge of the path. His expression remains pleasant. That somehow makes every vampire holding you straighten.