Sired: A Unique Bond

Nodding, Scarin followed his new pet through the hidden door. Before closing it behind them, a blue flame licked the corner of the tapestry, igniting the material. The dragon was certain that the entire mansion would catch quickly, covering their tracks as they made their escape. The smoke wouldn't be detected until it was far too late. When they reached the exterior door, Scarin breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped through the arch, closed the door behind them, and inhaled deeply.

"A useful item, for one such as yourself. It doubles the time you have to locate your target. Stretches it out indefinitely, even. Use the item, and we'll travel through the day. Once we've cleared out of the area, we can stop to rest and to eat."

The dragon then took the lead, moving at a pace he felt comfortable pushing Freya at. She was clearly weakened by the Bonding, on top of the blood loss she sustained after having her former master's hand shoved through her chest cavity. "How often do you have to feed?"

Silently following her Master, Freya made sure to hide any discomfort she had. It was not good if the Slave, the pet, slowed the Master down.

"Like mortals we are not required to feed, or eat, everyday, but if we do not we grow weak and slow." She paused, keeping her eyes on the ground as they walked, listening for any sign of a follower. "As a Collector not feeding often can result in dimming my abilities, and I will not be able to locate whatever you command me to seek."

Other than feeding that night, Freya hadn't fed or slept, or done anything in ten years. She had failed Kol and he sought to punish her, make an example of her.

"Humans to the left, about fifty yards. Three men. Heavily armed." Freyas sight, and hearing were very keen despite being starved.

"We can bypass them easily enough, but where would be the fun in that? You need to eat, and I could use a snack." It seemed too good to be true. Scarin got to kill one of his most hated enemies, Bonded with a Collector, burned down a den, and was about to have himself a tasty treat. It was shaping up to be a good day. "Split up. Take what you want from two, but leave the third for me."

Without waiting for her reply, Scarin was off in a full sprint, far faster than any human could run. By the time he disappeared behind the trees and low foliage, his footfalls could no longer be heard, except by Freya, whose keen ears would be able to pick up the sounds of heavier tracks being left in the grass.

The dragon had a plan for everything, even when the unexpected occurred. He wanted to see what the woman could do in a weakened state. He did not question her loyalty in the slightest, for the magic behind the Bonding lead him to believe that she would be incapable of betraying him while under its thrall. No wonder she had been so abused.

Circling around the targets, Scarin hunkered down and waited for Freya to strike, after which he would move in and take his meal.

Freya altered her course to just out of view of the humans. Sitting down in the middle of the path, she ruffled her hair and reopened the healed bite marks on her wrist. The vampire sat there, and waited for the humans to round the corner.

When she was spotted, one ran to her side, while the two others moved around her their eyes scanning the surrounding trees. "Maiden what happened?" The one beside her grabbed her wrist, examining the bite marks.

"He just.. Came out of nowhere... He.. But me." She spoke loud enough for the two others to hear, then grabbed the one in front of her. "You will not move until I say. No matter what you hear." The man nodded, and Freya stood up.

The two others turned, hearing her shuffle around, but she was gone. Frantically they moved to their companions side, they tried to move him, but he refused to budge.

"He's not going to move." The two men turned to see the girl, eyes blood red, fangs bared.

"Demon!" One cried lunging forward. As he neared Freya, she reached out in the blink of an eye, tearing his heart from his chest.

"That hurt my feelings. I'm only a girl." Freya slowly walked to the third man and pushed him aside, kneeling back down to the man frozen in place. "I'm so hungry." She breathed against his neck, listening to his heart pound in a panic. Freya sighed softly, her eyes closing, almost smiling as she tore into his neck. That was two down, and one to go, left scrambling to his feet. He looked as if he wanted to run, but instead pulled out a sword, pointing the tip at Freya.

Watching Freya work gave Scarin reason to pause and consider the arrangement he had made. She was no typical vampire, ravenous and feral, even in her state of powerful hunger. It was like watching a master artist plying their skills to a craft they had loved for decades on end. Each movement, each action was meticulously calculated. There was a woman who knew exactly what she was doing and how she would do it.

With two men dispatched, it was time to take care of the third. Scarin emerged from the undergrowth, his scales shimmering in the light of the blazing mansion. The long, thick tendrils of his mane hung like large braids of hair, cascading just past his shoulders while his tail swayed lazily behind him. In full form, he was a large creature, with a maw that could easily accept a full-grown human in one bite.

Scarin, however, did not want to be so quick to end the encounter. Freya was having fun; why couldn't he? "Bravo, Freya. Bravo. I do believe you've scared these men witless." The last remaining man whirled around, his eyes following Scarin's legs, to his chest, to his face. A clear appearance of dread washed over him, as he realized that he, too, would die within moments.

"Please let me go! I beg you! Please!"

Scarin chuckled, listening to the cries for mercy but paying no real attention to the words.

"Even if we let you live now, human, you would not survive the coming years. Your death tonight will be a blessing, I promise you that."

The armed individual, sensing his imminent demise, dropped his sword and fell to his knees. His lips recited a prayer to his god. Scarin waited until the man was done, for he had truly done nothing to offend him. A dragon he may have been, but there were still matters of respect and etiquette to be observed. When the prayer was finished, Scarin wasted no time, clamping his teeth around the man's neck and pulling hard while his tail pierced his rib cage, impaling him through the heart as he removed the man's head. In an instant, he was dead, and Scarin began to feast upon the limp form of the human that was.

Freya drank nearly every drop of blood from her victim before dropping his corpse to the dirt. Standing gracefully, she brushed her hair from her face, and wiped the blood from her lip, before turning to face Scarin and his now dead target. He wasted a lot of blood. Then again he was a dragon and not a creature of the night, so it wasn't a waste for him.

"Humans need wits to be frightened witless, Master, and these men had none." She stared at the dead men around her, barely blinking, as if it didn't bother her. Dead men stupid enough to trust a random stranger just because it was a woman had no room in her mind or heart for guilt. Or even an ounce of care.

"Do you wish for me to dispose of them once you are finished, Sire?" Freya was great at hiding things, just like she was great at finding things. No one would find the bodies if she did not want them to be found.

"Yes. No sense in leaving a trail if we don't have to." Scarin finished his meal, licking the blood and tissue off his lips and teeth. It wasn't the most delicious thing he had ever eaten, but it filled his belly and that was the point of consuming the man in the first place. The violent manner in which he did so was complete self-indulgence. "But don't forget. Despite their less than exceptional brain power, mankind as existed long than many smarter species."

Once the mess was cleaned up, Scarin changed back into his demi-human form and lead Freya through the brush, bypassing several roads before settling on one that did not even intersect with the manor behind them, still lighting up the nighttime sky. Dawn would break soon, and the dragon found himself very grateful for the item which Freya referenced when they left.

"What is it that protects you from the cleansing power of the sun? A scroll, or enchanted item perhaps?"

"My ring." Freya held up her hand, and a simple but beautiful emerald and white gold band glittered in the index finger of her left hand. "When Kol realized what I was he found a witch and had her make me a Daylight ring. I wear it always. Taking it off does no harm to me unless I am in the sun." She paused, her gaze on the ground. During her decade long torture session, Kol would remove her ring periodically and let her burn every now and then, but never left her in the sun long enough to die. It was one of the most painful things she had ever experienced, and she had no desire to feel it again.

"My species is known for being creatures of the night, so when I walked in the Light I was never suspected to be one of them." Freya knew what it felt to be tortured by Kol, she knew him, and the games he liked to play to test her loyalty even under the Sire Bond. Would Scarin do the same to her? Or was he far worse than she could imagine?

Scarin's reptilian eyes followed the shiny item, fixated on it almost lustfully. Dragons loved treasure, that much was clearly well known. But what many did not know was that treasure to one dragon was junk to another. In Scarin's case, he preferred treasure in the form of rare oddities. Things that were not commonly owned, or even seen in the world. What Freya could not possibly have known was that she, too, was now part of his treasure, making her something that he absolutely would not part with, no matter the cost.

"Best keep it on at all times then. No sense in risking your fare skin to the ravages of sunlight, especially with shelter being so far away. If you have any enemies, now would be the time to bring them up. I spend as much time in towns and cities as I do in the air, and unless you have a ring that allows you to fly, my pace is slowed by having to walk."

Scarin's streamlined body, while in his natural form, was designed for speed. Though he did not know the extent of Freya's abilities, he doubted very much if she would be able to keep up with him. Then again, she now had the blood of a dragon flowing through her veins. Who knows what sort of abilities and powers she would manifest? Perhaps nothing new, or perhaps something incredible. Neither of them completely understood what would happen. That by itself made Scarin smile.

Freya raised an eyebrow, staring at her Master with an almost bored look on her face. It was no surprise that he didn't think she could keep up, as she certainly couldn't fly, but he was unfamiliar with the perks of being a Collector.

"I can keep up just fine. Tell me where to go and I will be there. Don't insult me by insinuating that I am slow. I may not be as fast as you, but I am far from slow."

As if to prove her point, Freyas body flickered, then disappeared completely, appearing several feet away in an instant. She was far faster than any of the others like her, especially after she just fed. He may have thought of her as weak and feeble just because the way Kol treated her, but she wasn't either of those things. There was no way in hell that she was going to allow him to speak to her that way. Slave or not.

If their Bond had been stronger then Scarin would know he had irritated her, but Freya refrained from mentioning such things. The less he knew the better for her.

Scarin scowled at the presumption. If they weren't on the road, he might have corrected Freya, but left it in the back of his mind to do so later. "I did not say you are slow. I said walking is slower than I prefer. You'll find i'm much more agreeable when you make no assumptions concerning my intent." Without another word, Scarin's scaled body was ripping through the air, his scales catching the last of the dying light from Freya's former home. It was irritating, but there would be a time and a place to address it.

Beating his wings strongly, Scarin traced the road ahead, following it to a township many miles to the north. It wasn't the closest city, but that choice was made purposefully. The farther away they were from the mansion, the better. It also gave him enough time to keep a low profile as he flew in order to avoid being spotted. There they could rest for a few days, plan their next moves, and prepare to work.

Scarin had big plans for the Collector.

Watching her Master fly away, Freya felt dread rise in her chest. He was not happy with her. Fear swelled, masking the dread almost completely, and she followed him on the ground, moving so fast that she was near invisible to all. The vampire imagined that he would be even angrier if she did not go to where he did. Although, even if she fell behind, Freya would always know where Scarin was.

She bypassed humans like they were nothing despite her hunger. Her master hadn't given her permission to do anything aside from follow him. Though the temptation was there, she'd already pissed him off once, she wasn't going to do it again. It was never a good idea to piss off the Master. There would be consequences.

Scarin did not have to keep an eye on his new ward to know she was keeping up. Grounded though she may be, she was much faster than other vampires. Were it not for the Bond to Kol, he was absolutely convinced that she would have outweighed him in every way. She certainly was a unique specimen. Even if she didn't need to watch Freya, he did anyway, but more out of fascination than distrust.

After a time, Scarin caught sight of their destination. Gliding low to the ground, he flared his wings and brought himself to a soft landing. He did not have to wait one moment for Freya to appear by him, for true to her word, she had kept pace easily. "So the rumor was true, after all. Your speed is unparalleled. You can relax now."

The dragon's body shifted as it had so many times before, finally settling on his human form. "We're heading into Cannontown. Should be a large enough city for you to feed without provoking too much notice. We'll keep our heads down and figure out our next move carefully. Head into town and secure us lodging."

"Yes, Master." Freya vanished soon as the words left her mouth for fearing being reprimanded. She was off toward Cannontown to do as she was told, but as she neared the city, she hesitated. What kind of lodging did he mean? A house? Rooms at an Inn? A whole street? Drowning in frustration, but unwilling to go back and find out, the Collector decided to get them a house on the border of the city. Not out of its limits, but not in the middle of it. It wasn't extravagant like her previous home, but it wasn't rundown either. It was decent, two stories, three bedrooms, there was a nice sized kitchen, and an open sitting room with a fireplace.

Freya didn't outright buy the house, but she didn't compel it from under the one selling. She gave the man a good amount of gold she'd taken from the armed men she had snacked on, then compelled him to sign over the home to her for the reduced price. A vampire could not enter a home if a living human being lived there, after all.

Since she had fled from Scarin, and didn't feel like going out to locate him, she decided to use the Bond. Sitting in the middle of the floor, Freya closed her eyes and mentally called out to her blood pumping through the dragons veins. The Bond was a mysterious thing, and Freya was using her knowledge of it. She sent her Master the location of their home, however temporary, and remained seated on the floor to wait for him.

Scarin passed under the gate and entered Cannontown, a moderate sized township on the banks of the World Vein, a giant river that fed into the oceans to the west. The townsfolk kept to themselves for the most part, except in the center of town and the docks, where merchants and consumers did business and friends met to eat, drink, and converse. As the name implied, Cannontown was famous for its work with metal, particularly in the creation of weapons. This granted the city a thriving and prospering economy, and while there were still slum neighborhoods within the walls, even they were higher class than in other areas. Its location also made it easily defensible from attacks from the land or by see.

The dragon, posing as a humanoid, looked around with a clearly defined sense of nostalgia. He had been to Cannontown many times in the past, though he hadn't stayed within its walls for many years, long enough for no one to recognize his face. The smell of sulfur and metal filled his nostrils, bringing back memories of fire and war the likes of which many countries had never before witnessed.

Scarin then made his way to the market, which was just starting to get underway in the early morning. Shops were already opening, prompting him to browse the wares available for anything that might be useful to them. Some clothing he purchased, as well as some handmade jewelry. Both varied greatly in finery, but Scarin didn't care about value. They were unique, and that's all that mattered to him. A bottle of Fey wine he also purchased, then ended with some footwear for the lady.

Just as Freya entered his thoughts, Scarin felt a tug inside his mind, pulling his vision in a very precise direction. Though he did not know exactly why, he felt that he would find her if he walked in that direction. Following the sensation, Scarin came upon a house that he did not recognize from his memory, but somehow knew just the same. Without knocking, he pushed open the door and entered the home, finding his ward seated upon the floor.

"Good work. This will do nicely." Scarin made it a point to address the Bond after they'd settled in, for he already wanted to know more about it. "Here... I got us some clothes to change into, in case anyone witnessed what happened. I guessed on your size. Feel free to take whatever you like."

Freya looked over the clothes, occasionally glancing at Scarin from the corner of her eyes. There was no way he had forgotten his anger at her that quickly. Still seated on the floor, a garment slipped from her fingers, her body freezing. It was a test. It had to be. Somehow he was testing her, but what were the rules? What was the point, the purpose? Had she failed already?

Fear began to work its way through her once again. They were alone now, in an enclosed space, was he going to punish her now, wasn't he? Slowly, she looked up at Scarin, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Are you going to punish me?" Her tone was soft, fear coating her words, but her expression revealed that she was very serious.

In truth, Scarin was hardly paying attention for the first few moments, having decided to inspect their new dwelling in more detail. For the most part, the home was bare and empty, but then again it wasn't really going to be a permanent residence, so that much was reasonable. It was a decent enough size that he could squeeze his full body form in without destroying anything. It wasn't large, nor was it small. Not lavish or impoverished. Not too close to the city center, but not too far away. All in all, Freya had done an excellent job.

Scarin's attention only returned to Freya when he heard the garment fall to the floor. He did not whip around, however, only looked in her direction. He watched as the vampire's body became rigid, almost as if she was expecting the cane to fall. But no sting came.

"Punish you for what, exactly?" Scarin was genuinely confused by her question. All she did was drop a piece of cloth on the floor, which was nothing near a punishable offense. In all honesty, he had forgotten about the brief exchange they'd had on the ground regarding speed. His confusion was written across his face as clearly as fear and dread on the dead men's face from the road.

"For-.." Freya stopped and thought for a moment. He didn't remember, he wasn't mad anymore. There was no reason to bring it up. "Nothing. I... Nothing." Scooping up a new outfit, Freya stood up and headed toward the washroom, her head bowed. She moved past Scarin quickly, clutching the clothes to her chest tightly.

Kol would have never forgotten. Kol would have beat her until her breaths were dotted with blood. And then he would have continued until she cried and begged for forgiveness. But Scarin wasn't Kol. Was he better, or was he worse? How was she supposed to know? How could she find out?

Freya changed her clothes in the privacy of the washroom, running her fingers through her golden locks to get knots out.

What could he possibly want me for?

Quizzically Scarin watched as Freya moved to the washroom. His eyes followed her the entire way before she disappeared behind the door. He roamed the room again, though he found nothing else of interest. In a matter of seconds he was back to where he started, boredom beginning to seep into his consciousness. Exhaling softly, he turned and looked back in the direction of the washroom when he noticed an interesting detail. The door did not close completely.

Though he looked only for a moment, his keen eyesight caught enough of a view to know that Freya was halfway through the changing process, in the interesting part, as a matter of fact. Her back was turned, denying him a frontal view of her less clothed form, but what he saw did intrigue him deeply. It was only through the deepest of willpower that he was able to tear his gaze off of her.

"When you're finished, I need you to do something else for me," Scarin called out, having turned away from the door completely.

Freya turned and exited the room, straightening her clothes, and allowing her hair to fall down her back. With eyes downcast, she walked into the sitting room to stand before the dragon. "What can I do for you, Master?"

There was no way for Freya to know what he had seen, or what he was thinking. Perhaps he had remembered why she should be punished? Or, more likely, he had something or someone he wanted her to go Collect. Which she would have been fine with. It was not knowing that made her nervous. Especially since she knew almost nothing about her dragon Master.

After a moment to admire her, Scarin turned back to the pile of clothing and item, placing them on a small table and looking through them until he found one shiny thing in particular. Turning to Freya, he held up the item, observing the way it glinted in the light and how it compared to her outfit and complexion.

"I acquired this item in the market, along with some others, but i'm particularly fond of this one. I can think of no safer place to put it than around your neck." Scarin moved toward his ward, moving around behind her. "Don't worry... it is not magical. Nothing is going to happen when you wear it. It's just a silver necklace."

The dragon was being completely honest, and he hoped that honesty was inferred through his voice. "The man who made this is blind, but he insists on creating his own molds, then he has someone help him pour the molten metal into the molds. This pattern will never exist again in any other thing as being unique. Someone may copy it, but it would never been the same."

The necklace was not particularly beautiful compared to common standards, but to him, the rarity of the pattern was immaculate in its own right. "Would you wear it for me?"

Freya listened to what he said, following him with her eyes, even go so far as to turn her head to look over her shoulder at him. He was giving her a gift? Why? Confusion flicked across her face, but she said nothing about it. Instead she turned her back to him, and moved her hair out of his way.

"I... I will wear it for you, Master." Freya had never been given a gift before. The ring on her finger was for her duties as a Collector, nothing more. This necklace, however, gave Scarin nothing in return. It didn't grant her powers, or enchant her. It was just... A necklace.

Clasping the necklace to Freya'a neck was an easy thing tondo, once she had moved her hair. Once it was secured, Scarin let it rest upon her neck, then moved back around to where she could see him. The expression on his face was one of concern, though soft it was, as well.

"You don't trust me," he began, recognizing the way her muscles tensed when he was near, and the way she watched him, as if he would strike her at any moment. "I understand. You have no reason to believe what I am about to tell you, but I will say it anyway. The torture you endured under your previous master died with him. That time of your life is over."

Turning to the window, Scarin faced the outside world, looking on it as if he were it's father. "A new time begins. I want you to help me take control of this land. We will create a new country, one in which we can live without looking over our shoulders. We will gather others like us, and anyone that wishes to live here may do so, as long as they obey our rules. You will help me create this world. That is what I Bonded with you. Will you accept the task which I have given you?"

The vampire moved over by the window to look out at the city, wondering what he saw. It had to be a great vision for him, to try to change the land to suit creatures like them, considering there were people out there born and raised specifically to kill them.

"I would be honored to help you achieve your goal, Master." Freya stepped back from the window, and let her fingers brush over the new bit of silver around her neck. It wasn't heavy, but it felt off to have something there after not having anything there in centuries. It wasn't a bad feeling, per se, but she wasn't sure what the gift meant. Deciding not to trouble herself over it, she turned her attention to the house.

It was lacking in furnishings, and though there were three rooms, the two of them had yet to pick a place to sleep. Having been up all night, she wondered if he was tired. They were going to need beds; Freya began to make a list in her head of all the things they were going to need, putting top priority on Scarins needs.

"It won't be easy, and certainly won't happen quickly. But this land will belong to us, and we will have peace." Turning back to his ward, Scarin observed the girl curiously. She seemed to be deep in thought. She touched her necklace as if she were still trying to figure out what it was. It occurred to him that Freya probably hadn't been allowed any unnecessary jewelry since her punishment began. Yet another door to be opened, the insides explored like a new book. She looked... tired, almost longingly at the bedrooms. It was clear that she needed to rest. Having been kept up for so long, it was no wonder. The girl was starved to near death, and was likely never allowed to sleep. It was a wonder she was able to stand at all.

As if sensing what she was thinking, Scarin's voice pierced the silence. "You need to sleep, Freya. You've had a long decade. I want you to get some rest." It was clear by the tone of his voice that Scarin wasn't willing to debate the issue. "Whatever we need to get, let's get it so you can do just that. When we wake, we can discuss the details of our plan." Scarin had no idea if she could tell, or really didn't himself know the full extent of what he was doing, but his kindness was genuine. His master, though he was, mistreatment was not in his nature. He would be stern. He would give her commands. He would punish her if necessary. But all in all, she had more freedom than she likely knew what to do with, or even knew she had.

"I'll admit I don't know much about a Vampire's sleeping habits, only that most do so at night. What do you need?"