Obsession is the height of passion, but what does one do when they find themselves enthralled with their enemy. Talamayas Sol loses his mother when he stumbles upon a mage in the deserts of his territory, and he is plunged into a despair he's never...
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"You want Wren on the frontline?" Talamayas asked, the snarl forcing Forest and Tide upright in their seats as they sat around a map of the Levisca area. The former tucked his long brown hair behind his shoulders as if he needed his vision clear for a scuffle.
The vampires opposing Neil were out for his blood and he'd allied with the mages to protect both his people and theirs. Both sides were coming together to fight for an alliance between mages and vampires in a capacity Wren never before thought possible. Around him, Neil Arc, Tala, Tide and Forest were planning things, but there were two more vampire houses with them but not present, and they had even convinced the Levisca mage complex to play decoy to lure the vampires. So long ago Wren had thought there could never be peace between them.
"You don't like the idea of me fighting?" Wren asked from his chair off to the side.
The table had never been big enough for more than four people and Wren had never minded propping his feet up ion Tala's desk. He lifted his gaze to Tala's heated crimson, quite expecting the man to drag him down to the dungeons in order to prevent him from using his magic aggressively.
"You've been in the dungeons for decades and are in no condition to fight in a battle between eight vampire families and a sprinkling of mages." Tala thrummed his fingers on his chairs broad silk armrest, and nearly everyone in the room stared at him with their mouths open Iin confusion. As if they'd misheard them.
"You're worried Wren Song could get hurt?" Forest asked the question Wren couldn't even voice. That was so preposterous that Wren was just assuming he'd misspoke. Surely the man just meant that he might lose his plaything anyway.
"Of course I am," Tala continued on. "The man has trained with you, but even you can tell he's rusty at best. Wren..." Tala stopped talking as he realized the mood of the room too slow. As usual. "What?" The growl on the single word was followed by Neil's groan as he rubbed his forehead and lost his hands in his long white hair as he leaned forward.
"The rest of us are worried about the repercussions of a Song seen fighting on the battlefield, Tala," Neil said, leaning on his hand. "You know. The vampires' mortal enemy, slaughtering your kind in droves?"
It was rude of Wren to crack a smile as Tala processed what his closest friend was saying. The man was so absorbed in keeping his prisoner safe and too himself that he hadn't considered the more obvious issue. With how the Songs were feared as gruesome puppet masters that ripped out the souls of vampire kind, any side he was on would be uncomfortable with him–ally or not.
"Wren would be killing our enemies," Talamayas said in a slow hiss. "If I was on board with it."
"We need him to keep the vampires there once they advance on the complex," Forest insisted. "They can very well back out if they see no gain in the fight, but no house can walk away from a living Song. Either Wren will chain them or they will feel obligated to kill him. Either way, he is the best bait we have."
