Choosing to say out of the Alliance, the Cinders are isolated in their own conflicts, and when Helia Cinder reaches to the void for answers, she inadvertently draws a creature out. Expecting to be eaten alive, she is instead left with a man with no...
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"Give me your cloak." Talamayas leaned in to whisper to Shan, and his general removed his outer layer. It was no real secret that the leader of the Sol's was always bare chested and bore distinct, red tattoos of the sun on his chest and claws on his abdomen. Covering himself was the best he could do before he approached, and the boy snapped his gaze up as soon as Shan and he passed the wall of whipping sand.
"Oh, hello," the boy said innocently, shading his eyes with a hand and taking in Talamayas appearance–albeit hunched so he was less intimidating and covered neck to foot with Shan's brown cloak.
"Are you lost?" Talamayas asked gently, unsure of what he was dealing with but loath to kill the boy if he was one of Wren's people. Their loss had hurt his mate enough, and killing one of the stranglers who'd escaped their death decree would inflict all of those wounds again. It was best to proceed with caution.
"Yeah, a little. I knew where I was going, but then I got turned around in the dunes chasing after a Jerboa. I've never seen something so tiny before, and I went further than where I was supposed to." A light, despairing chuckle came from the boys lips, and he dropped his cowl as the winds ebbed, tucking his long hair behind his ears so he could see the men ahead of him.
Most men needed no more than a halfhearted glance before they recognized Tala and ran for the hills, but the boy took his time, running his eyes over his tanned face and crimson eyes before glancing back to Shan, who'd placed his glaive back in its back holster. It was as if the boy had never seen one of the desert people before, and curiosity shined where there should be fear, which meant he did not recognize them, not as the leaders they were nor even as vampires.
How sheltered must he be to not know the face of his people's killers on sight? This one was young, likely no older than fourteen or fifteen by his build and the youth of his light grey eyes, but any Song taught such children before they could walk solidly the dangers of vampire kind. If he was chasing mice out into the dunes, then he certainly had little knowledge of how perilous the deserts could be, let alone the dark creatures that inhabited it.
"Perhaps I can help you find your way home?" Talamayas offered. "Do you know where you were headed?"
The boy opened his mouth, a squeak of frustration escaped, and he lifted a hand to his chin in contemplation. "I did, but now I don't." The scent of fear finally penetrated as he lifted his eyes to Talamayas' and fully registered their crimson hue.
The boy shoved his hands out toward Tala so quickly that Shan reached for his glaive, but the boy could do little damage with his wrist's up. Small glyphs marred what should be smooth, light skin, and his arms shook as he dropped to his knees in the sands.
"M-my magic is sealed, so I cannot harm you." the boy sputtered into the ground.
Talamayas didn't know how to respond, overcome with pity for the trembling creature at his feet. Those were no slight markings burned into his flesh. They were thick with magic and dug deep into his soul, blocking all magic, not just the chains that Councilman Nicholas Arc had taken from Wren. Wren had accepted the loss of his chain magic in order to satisfy the vampire council as well as start life anew with Talamayas, but this boy likely wasn't given a choice.
