Heavenly, the only way to describe our time together. If heaven were a lovely realm of dark and gloom, how romantic. Though I was woe to leave my companion, I simply could not resist her temptations. She lured me in, and I followed willingly. Her siren song was not of music, but of grace and tantalising secrets I wished to unwrap. Oh, I would see my friend again. His journey to the city of the living was an expedition, not an exile. Like a friend, he seeks the truth about how my kind would be received in the outer world. Lady Xynthia said it was unlikely, but that young man never took no for an answer.

  "Do you regret it?" The sultry voice of Griselda tickled my ear.

  "I regret nothing, my sweet."

  We had grown closer over these few days since our companions had left, passing the get to know you stage rather well. Now she lounged across my lap, her head to my chest, her hair entangled in loops around my fingers. I could remain here for all time and be completely content.

  "We need to inspect my newly gained forces." She said, half an order.

  "Can we postpone? We have yet to go on a formal date into the dark depths." I spoke, wounded by the delay.

  "Our time will come, lover." She playfully patted my cheek.

  She left my icy embrace. I felt incomplete the moment she ascended. Following her steps, with the view being spectacular, I couldn't help but follow along. Chanting my spell song of attraction in reverse, I found the world pushing me closer. Heeding my call, reality bent to my will and settled me beside the woman I adored.

  "Where to?" I grinned widely.

  "Show off." She returned the smile.

  "Discovering a method to reverse my spell songs was quite the boon."

  "Your class is most peculiar, worthy of study. A true esoteric, just like that man — what was his name?" She queried, never turning her head.

  "His name is Joey, a very peculiar man, supposedly not human, like us."

  Griselda didn't answer, just hummed in thought as we left the former room of a now-dead vampire. Those who remained divided the luxuries of our former host equally. My sweet was such a benevolent ruler. Volkaran and Garathi alike deferred to her, a strange, instinctual desire to serve a vampiric ruler. According to a few I had spoken with, she was a Strigoi, one of noble blood.

  "Where are we heading?" I asked.

  "To meet with Calraz, he has requested a rather peculiar thing."

  I could have asked what she meant, but I liked a little mystery in my life. We left the room, shut the ornate door and removed the magical key. Finding the correct door from the many others that lead to even stranger parts of this grand temple. We had catalogued tirelessly the first day we took over. This door was simple, wooden and worn. It led to the barracks, the place Calraz and his ghostly men found comfort. Slipping the key in , she delicately turned it and opened the door to a new location. Entering a stone corridor just outside the main barracks.

  "My lady, my lord, allow me to escort you." A Volkaran soldier greeted us.

  Most of the Volkaran had left for greener pastures, wanting a life beyond the confines of these walls. Yet few remained still loyal. They comprised the soldiery under the command of now Commander Calraz. The soldier ferried us down the corridor and into the barracks. As we entered, both greeted us — the living and the dead. Mortal soldiers surrounded a small group of ghostly figures. Commander Calraz stood at the centre, above several corpses, neatly arranged atop bedrolls. The air was sombre and gloomy, as expected when the dead linger with the living.

  "Lady Griselda, Lord Marius." Calraz bowed as we entered.

  "You requested our presence; what do you require?" Griselda turned all business in a moment, stern yet sympathetic.

  "We have noticed that our less corporeal comrades are slowly losing themselves."

  "Losing themselves?" I frowned, eyeing my ghostly summons.

  I could not feel them as well as my current spectral bond and was quite coherent and content with the situation. Sensing his presence, going down the tether that connected us both, I felt his essence, his mind. Returning with a familiar feeling of contentment and peace, I was secure. Then I tried the vague tethers I still had to Calraz's men. What I felt was... nothing.

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  "I can't feel them; their essence is very weak."

  "You released them from control, which weakens their bonds to the mortal plane." Griselda graced us with her knowledge.

  "Please, great necromancer, can you save them?" Calraz turned to me, pleading and about to go down on one knee.

  "I can reestablish the tether, but that will be bound to me again." I suggested, loathed to bind souls that desire freedom.

  "If it is necessary, then do it." Calraz spoke, desperation in his eyes, his voice cracking.

  I could feel his swirling emotions, sense his indecision and fear. He loved his soldiers, and even in death he couldn't let go. When I raised them before they desired to return and stay with their commander. So, there was no confusion about whether these poor souls desired the beyond or the now.

  "I have an idea, but it will require experimentation." Griselda interjected.

  "What do you have in mind?"

  My beloved, the creature that stole my heart the moment I laid eyes upon her, frowned adorably. I could set that aside for later. Perhaps in a few minutes' time she would fall into my embrace and we could dance the night away. Her nose crinkled, her gaze narrowed as if she were a predator and her brilliant idea was prey. And just like that, she pounced upon it, tearing it limb from limb and devoured it whole.

  "There is a creature both dead and alive. He rests in eternal slumber below." She explained.

  "What creature?" Calraz questioned.

  "The troll that once graced the arena, defeated by your companion." She gestured to me with a nod.

  I recalled such a creature, but it had died upon the sands. Defeating the enduring troll required a monumental effort from everyone. Only Joey could deliver an effective blow to take it down. My friend used a strange form of magic. It held a kinship to my own but was far more obscure and hard to understand. Time would reveal the truth, and besides, I had other interests right now.

  "How can a dead troll assist us?" The Garathi said.

  "Not a dead troll, but an undead troll."

  Following those words, we all went to the darker depths of the temple. Calraz ordered his fellow living soldiers to bring the corpses of his deceased down as well. Entering the dank and gloomy corridor, lined with cells. The stench of blood and bile was not a very pleasing aroma, but the ambiance was nice. Rusted steel bars lined the corridor; a few had been bent or shattered by something with great strength. We ignored what were likely the signs of failed experiments and made our way to the cell that housed the troll.

  It was much larger than the rest, likely designed to house giant beasts. Instead, a troll corpse was sprawled across the ground, oddly intact despite its death. The scent was odd; it smelled of the living and the dead. I knew I could easily sing this creature back to life. I do not know how I am not sure. The oddity of these classes is still unknown to me. I turned to Griselda awaiting her wisdom.

  "A lost vampiric art brought this creature back, although the process was poorly executed and only intended to revive the body... it is possible to use this method with the former vessel's spirit." She explained, eyes brimming with desire.

  I could sense, I could hear the song in her heart. She desired the lost arts, the magic of the forbidden. To plumb the intricate depths of arcane knowledge. Knowing nothing of true magic, my powers lay within another power, the power of the heart and soul. My Griselda was the power of the mind, bent on turning nature inside out.

  "I see your designs, my sweet. With your art, you can bring the flesh back to life, and with my song, sing them to flesh." I perfectly grasped her mindset, and her wicked grin nearly made my heart skip a beat.

  "So there is a chance?" Calraz hoped.

  "There is a possibility if I can master these arts and a certain gentleman could sing me a beautiful little song." She turned to me, mischievous as a cat.

  "Oh, how those eyes bewitch me. For you, my darling, I would compose an orchestra, enough to raise the underworld itself."

  We would have embraced right there and then; the need was so strong my will nearly left me. And I could see it was mutual; she craved me as much as I craved her. But she had her duties, and I would be there to aid her. Now with a plan in place, we sadly had to part. The vampire, who had become our charge, needed blood. Tragically, I abandoned my dark mistress to her experimentation and study. I returned to the realm above, utilising several strategically placed doors now open for use. Powerful magic whisked me away to the upper floors.

  Travelling down the corridor, I ducked into a large room that resembled a storage closet, filled with barrels. Cracking upon a, I sensed the fresh blood that dwelled within. Enchanted barrels, somehow able to keep it fresh for all this time, more examples of the Strigoi's powerful magic. Filling a pitcher, I returned to the corridor with several goblets in hand. With only a few more steps and I came upon a small ornate door. Decorative and gaudy, I could feel the silver in the doorknob, a sign of extravagance or measures against lesser vampires.

  "I am coming in." I announced, entering quickly and closing the door.

  What greeted me was the sight of a truly violated room, bed sheets torn up, ornate candlesticks bent or broken. Fang and claw removed, what decorations that remained. And at the centre of this tableau, a lone vampire, crouching in challenge. A predator cautiously determining if I was prey or another predator. Being undead made this little vampire's instincts rather confused.

  "I have a drink for you." I poured blood into the goblet.

  He lunged in a moment, claws reaching out to tear the goblet away. I easily dodged, parrying the attack and gracefully placing the goblet on the table. The creature reclaimed its bearings and, instead of challenging me; it went for the only source of food. Seizing the goblet, he sloppily gulped it down, paying no heed to decorum or manners. Lapping the blood up like a dog without restraint. After his little blood fest, the vampire collapsed to the ground. Something had returned to those eyes, and seizing the opportunity, I sang. The melody sang of history, of live long lost and now reclaimed, seizing upon that spark.

  "What... am... I?" the vampire spoke, his voice hoarse, eyes brimming with bloody tears.

  "You are a man, and it is time you remembered."

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