Author Games: Underworld

Task Five: The Quarter Finals - Negotiate - Allied Squad

Lamia # 3 - Constantina Drăculeşti [9] 

Coincidences did not appear out of thin air. The mere definition of such a term was a mere chance, a diverging of two happenstances that occurred at the same time. She was taught that a coincidence was a fool's way of agreeing that things happened spontaneously. It was, therefore, no coincidence that she was now with three others. Two of her kind, one of the other. All of them had left, had severed what they had set out to do. She would never think low of herself, but how would her father view her when they approached the castle, alone with a werewolf.

Perhaps, even, it was not the thought of her father's beliefs that worried her mind, but the repercussions of tangibly allying with the race she had so few days ago set out to defeat. Aristocrats were renowned for their strategy, that was true, yet they were also known for crassness in regards to looking at the entire picture. Brilliant minds looked only to the best solution for their needs. Her father, so distant and unwavering in belief, would most certainly not be proud. Yet to her, she did not mind. To her, she was doing what her father would be proudest of: doing what was right.

They walked silently. Wind rustled through the trees, the night still fresh. All of them walked in a line, unwavering. Milo, the only male, stopped abruptly. "We should stop and rest. We're only a little while away from the castle. We must get ready, formulate a plan."

"Good idea." The werewolf was beautiful in her human form. Janvier, an ancient name found in her textbook, only made her appearance more eloquent. It wasn't often that she saw a being at such an age.

None of them had a bag, their packs long forgotten. The thoughts of the castle, full of lush food, of succulent meat and wine, made her mouth water. It had been only a couple days since she had a proper meal, only a couple days since she had set out and then changed her course.

They sat. No fire appeared in front of them, no light was granted from beyond the foliage. She looked at her allies, the ones who chose the path of righteousness, of peace. These were the ones who had betrayed those who thirsted for bloodshed. These were the ones who may die within a day. She glanced to her lap, her pants torn from running.

"I do believe we have chosen the right path. I only hope that the Elders will see our way." Her voice stood unwavering against the silent night.

The werewolf spoke. "Bloodshed is pointless. We all have children, we all have families we want no harm to come to. Every tribe and clan has their faults, but fighting is no way to solve it, unlike what my tribe thinks." Her voice was like a soothing melody that one would murmur to a child to fall asleep.

"Yes, well, this is all good and dandy. Obviously, all of us have our reasons for being here, for abandoning those we were set out to help. But our main thing is- our main problem- what are we to do? What are we possibly going to do? All of us, every one, we have betrayed our tribes in some way or another. Going to the castle without a clear plan is a death wish," Milo said, his voice laced with tension.

Jasminä, the elder vampire, older than she, spoke up. "Yes, that's a good question. I don't want to see any more blood, yet we need to think of a good plan. There are many scenarios that may happen, but to figure out the scenarios we've gotta figure out what we're going to do first."

"A good point, all good points. But I disagree, Jasminä, to think of a plan first shows that we are not thinking of what happens before we go in. There will no doubt be guards watching the castle. They will be under strain, under pressure to do well. If we approach, they may take action quicker than not. We can't just decide on a plan before figuring out previous factors! That would be absurd." She spoke with authority, yet she was the youngest of the vampires.