ZARIYA The only truth that matters is the one you shape with your own hands. The rest is just noise. |
Zariya was one of those few.
She moved with an unhurried grace, her Black cloak standing out within the pure white of the snow. Her face covering did it's due diligence, stopping the flurries of snow from completely blinding her as she marched. Her footsteps crunched softly beneath her, and if her footsteps could ever make a sound, it would be quickly devoured by the howling wind.
The entrance to Viktor’s fortress was visible now, a stone structure carved directly into the mountainside, almost indistinguishable from the natural rock. The only sign of life was the flickering torches that lined the pathway, creating erratic shadows against the icy walls. As she approached, Zariya’s expression remained neutral, her cold golden eyes scanning the fortress with mild interest. It was not the first time she had made this journey to Viktor’s lair but there was something different about this visit.
Power.
That was the thought that swirled through her mind as she ascended the steps leading to Viktor’s stronghold. The Blood Chalice. She had heard of it many times before, but only recently had the whispers among her Akudama grown louder. One of her men who a capable vampire by all accounts, had attempted to retrieve the chalice, only to vanish without a trace. The others assumed he was dead, another victim claimed by the perilous search. Zariya, however was not one to assume. If the chalice existed--if the ancient blood of the Childer, the first vampires, truly resided within--it was worth more than a thousand risks.