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Description
Location: Unknown
As he appeared in the room he cast a sleeping spell.
“The Land of the White Morn,” he whispered, keeping his voice low not to wake anyone in the room. His sensitive eyes picked out the layout of the room. As he saw a desk he walked over and looked through some scattered sheets of paper. Taking a sheet, he held it up to the bare minimum of light that came through the screen walls. It was a drawing. Putting it down he went to the screen door and slid it open slightly, peering out. Looking either way he saw no one about, then closed the door as he went back in. Returning to the desk he picked up another sheet, and another after that. Each one had drawings on, little intricate patterns.
“Someone is good at this.” Putting them down he picked up a small book. His fingers lightly tracing the pages as he tried to read them. A soft noise made him look up, and he paused. Going to the front of the book he looked at the name.
“Amerisa,” he breathed and put the book down. Going to the bed he looked down at the girl.

In her sleep her left cheek faced him.
“Such beauty,” he whispered as he knelt down on the bed, softly touching her neck.
“Amerisa,” he cooed, and as if in response, she turned her head. One of his nails sharpened slightly, making a small cut on her neck. His green eyes began to have a red tinge, his breath getting heavier. His tongue touched her neck, then lapped the blood. The cut healed near instantly as his saliva touched it. For the briefest second his eyes opened wide, out in the corridor he could hear someone approaching. He brushed her cheek lightly, then touched her hair; he could tell it was glossy, but in the near non-existent light he could not tell the colour.
“I’ll find you again Amerisa,” he whispered into her ear, then disappeared into the night.

Location: The Castle of Illusion
His back touched the castle wall, his fingers digging into the castle wall. He turned his head to the sky, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth from a recent feed. Above him the sky turned to a different night, but unlike other nights, there was a brilliant orange ball in its dark folds. The redness of his eyes began to fade, the green returning in a strange mist. A gentle breeze began to rise, barely nudging the flyaway strands of his blond hair. His grasp on the wall tightened, then he wrenched his right hand from the wall. With the muscle of his thumb in his palm he wiped away the blood, licking at the stain. He shut his eyes, sighing deeply. In his chest he felt a weight drop.
“What is this feeling in my chest?” he mumbled into the breeze, “I feel like I’m …” he paused, momentarily, considering his thoughts, “As if I’m missing something.”

The amber eyes scanned the skyline the slit pupils widening as the night drew in. His eyes cast down, and he saw the circle of blondness. Taking the plummeting drop he landed on all fours by the vampire. Standing he flicked off the dust as he straightened his clothes.
“I have a bone to pick with you Princling.”
“How many fish have you eaten?” Luc seemed to chuckle, but the true joke wasn’t there.
“What happened Luc?” he turned concerningly.
“Tell me the bone first.”
“I need a pillow.”
“Your bone is a pillow?”
“I need a pillow big enough for me to sleep on, heavily downed. I don’t care how much you insult me for it, I need it.”
“I need your help Xilef, I need you to do something for me, I need your help.”
“Wow, we’ve both sunk to a new low, we’re asking each other for what we want.”
“I … I need you to follow someone for me.”
“Now I am intrigued,” the cat put his paws on the elder’s shoulders, leaning over his right and softly mewing.
“Go to the Land of the White Morn. There’s a house in the south near the mountains, a feudal house. There should be a girl there, I think her name is Amerisa.” Xilef let out a long rumbling purr.
“I’ll get you your pillow by the time you are back.”
“I’ll send you an image to make sure it’s her.”

Location: Somewhere in the Southern Household
I woke in the precious few minutes before the brilliant dawn came over the mountain top. Grabbing a silken dressing gown I slid open the screen door and shut it as I left. The rest of the household wouldn’t wake up till the sun rose above the mountains, so for now the place was mine. It was these moments alone I took solace in. As I walked along the veranda I hid in the shadows as the first rays came over the crest, it wasn’t that I was a heliophobe, it’s just in a land where the morning is a brilliant white I prefer the darkness. I stopped as I came to the corner of the building, peering round the corner. A servant sat on the edge of the veranda, tying shoes to her feet. Jumping from the veranda she leaned across the wooden pathway and grabbed her broom, then started sweeping at the small grit that was across a stone path. Turning back I started back to my room, but further down a young man ran up to the veranda, slipped off his shoes and jumped onto the wood. The dark haired youth tripped over his feet and was about to run past me when he stopped. He bowed, and as he brought his head back up I saw he had a sealed scroll in his mouth. His right hand held his shoes, his left took the scroll from his mouth.
“It’s from the royal household,” he held it out, bowing as he did so. Taking it from him I took it out of the case and unrolled the paper. I froze as I caught the gist of the message; unlike the scroll, my fate was sealed.

Xilef padded across the wooden floor, and finding a patch of sunlight he stretched then snuggled down into it, wrapping his tail about his head. His ears were pricked up, listening at any note, waiting for that name to crop up; till then, it was a waiting game.

Description
Location: Unknown
As he appeared in the room he cast a sleeping spell.
“The Land of the White Morn,” he whispered, keeping his voice low not to wake anyone in the room. His sensitive eyes picked out the layout of the room. As he saw a desk he walked over and looked through some scattered sheets of paper. Taking a sheet, he held it up to the bare minimum of light that came through the screen walls. It was a drawing. Putting it down he went to the screen door and slid it open slightly, peering out. Looking either way he saw no one about, then closed the door as he went back in. Returning to the desk he picked up another sheet, and another after that. Each one had drawings on, little intricate patterns.
“Someone is good at this.” Putting them down he picked up a small book. His fingers lightly tracing the pages as he tried to read them. A soft noise made him look up, and he paused. Going to the front of the book he looked at the name.
“Amerisa,” he breathed and put the book down. Going to the bed he looked down at the girl.

In her sleep her left cheek faced him.
“Such beauty,” he whispered as he knelt down on the bed, softly touching her neck.
“Amerisa,” he cooed, and as if in response, she turned her head. One of his nails sharpened slightly, making a small cut on her neck. His green eyes began to have a red tinge, his breath getting heavier. His tongue touched her neck, then lapped the blood. The cut healed near instantly as his saliva touched it. For the briefest second his eyes opened wide, out in the corridor he could hear someone approaching. He brushed her cheek lightly, then touched her hair; he could tell it was glossy, but in the near non-existent light he could not tell the colour.
“I’ll find you again Amerisa,” he whispered into her ear, then disappeared into the night.

Location: The Castle of Illusion
His back touched the castle wall, his fingers digging into the castle wall. He turned his head to the sky, blood dripped from the corner of his mouth from a recent feed. Above him the sky turned to a different night, but unlike other nights, there was a brilliant orange ball in its dark folds. The redness of his eyes began to fade, the green returning in a strange mist. A gentle breeze began to rise, barely nudging the flyaway strands of his blond hair. His grasp on the wall tightened, then he wrenched his right hand from the wall. With the muscle of his thumb in his palm he wiped away the blood, licking at the stain. He shut his eyes, sighing deeply. In his chest he felt a weight drop.
“What is this feeling in my chest?” he mumbled into the breeze, “I feel like I’m …” he paused, momentarily, considering his thoughts, “As if I’m missing something.”

The amber eyes scanned the skyline the slit pupils widening as the night drew in. His eyes cast down, and he saw the circle of blondness. Taking the plummeting drop he landed on all fours by the vampire. Standing he flicked off the dust as he straightened his clothes.
“I have a bone to pick with you Princling.”
“How many fish have you eaten?” Luc seemed to chuckle, but the true joke wasn’t there.
“What happened Luc?” he turned concerningly.
“Tell me the bone first.”
“I need a pillow.”
“Your bone is a pillow?”
“I need a pillow big enough for me to sleep on, heavily downed. I don’t care how much you insult me for it, I need it.”
“I need your help Xilef, I need you to do something for me, I need your help.”
“Wow, we’ve both sunk to a new low, we’re asking each other for what we want.”
“I … I need you to follow someone for me.”
“Now I am intrigued,” the cat put his paws on the elder’s shoulders, leaning over his right and softly mewing.
“Go to the Land of the White Morn. There’s a house in the south near the mountains, a feudal house. There should be a girl there, I think her name is Amerisa.” Xilef let out a long rumbling purr.
“I’ll get you your pillow by the time you are back.”
“I’ll send you an image to make sure it’s her.”

Location: Somewhere in the Southern Household
I woke in the precious few minutes before the brilliant dawn came over the mountain top. Grabbing a silken dressing gown I slid open the screen door and shut it as I left. The rest of the household wouldn’t wake up till the sun rose above the mountains, so for now the place was mine. It was these moments alone I took solace in. As I walked along the veranda I hid in the shadows as the first rays came over the crest, it wasn’t that I was a heliophobe, it’s just in a land where the morning is a brilliant white I prefer the darkness. I stopped as I came to the corner of the building, peering round the corner. A servant sat on the edge of the veranda, tying shoes to her feet. Jumping from the veranda she leaned across the wooden pathway and grabbed her broom, then started sweeping at the small grit that was across a stone path. Turning back I started back to my room, but further down a young man ran up to the veranda, slipped off his shoes and jumped onto the wood. The dark haired youth tripped over his feet and was about to run past me when he stopped. He bowed, and as he brought his head back up I saw he had a sealed scroll in his mouth. His right hand held his shoes, his left took the scroll from his mouth.
“It’s from the royal household,” he held it out, bowing as he did so. Taking it from him I took it out of the case and unrolled the paper. I froze as I caught the gist of the message; unlike the scroll, my fate was sealed.

Xilef padded across the wooden floor, and finding a patch of sunlight he stretched then snuggled down into it, wrapping his tail about his head. His ears were pricked up, listening at any note, waiting for that name to crop up; till then, it was a waiting game.