59 The Blood is Thickening (1/2)

Draig turned his head to see two older men who had graying hair, the two may have seemed ordinary but there was an instinctual course through his blood.

”Young man how did you get in here” asked the old man who had spoken previously.

”I walked through the door” came the simplified response but the two old men seemed to have gained interest.

Making eye contact they appeared to have a conversation mentally before turning back to Draig.

”Tell me did you happen to meet our doorman” asked the old man as Draig felt a stronger course through his veins.

”Are you talking about the one with the scar over his lips” asked Draig calmly resisting the sensation.

The old men once again looked at each other, after a moment they nodded to one another.

”That is indeed him, did he allow you to enter this manor” asked the old man who was by now becoming the apparent Lord of the Manor.

”I suppose if you consider his weakness to be permission then that is the case, tell me old man. What is this place” asked Draig feeling a sudden burning of his blood but his face remained straight.

”INSOLENT” cried the second old man.

”Enough Balethor, young man I assume you are one of the scion that was in the other worlds so I will look past your folly just now. I am Agris Bloodburn” explained the newly identified Agris

”I see, I am indeed one of these so called scion you speak of. Tell me Agris who is the Lord of this manor” asked Draig trying to confirm his thoughts.

”That would be me and my brother Balethor, tell me young man what is your name” asked Agris a light seeming to gleam in his eyes.

”Draig or rather as my mother would call me Drevitch, I am quite interested in the workings of the society of Vampires though my impression of your common nobles is rather bleak” began Draig only to feel a tingle in the air causing him to dodge.

”Balethor” shouted Agris who turned to look at his brother.

”Agris, this child needs to learn the proper manner of addressing his superiors and kin” explained Balethor but a small cut was visible on his cheek.

”Balethor, your cheek” uttered Agris looking at the slender pole that extended from the darkness to swipe a bit of the blood before retracting.