Guardians of Innistrad

Dahlia put one last pin into her hair before finally deciding she was satisfied with her appearance, and lifting the silky shawl from the back her her chair. The click, clack sounds from her heels striking the marble flooring echoed through the corridor as she walked from her bedchambers to the staircase. At the bottom of the stairs stood her best friend and confidant, Rivier Falkenrath, with the same smug expression his near-flawless face held in most situations. Despite the upturn of his lips that formed his signature smirk, Dahlia could see the storm brewing in his dark eyes.

As she reached the last step, the aristocrat lifted his elbow for her to hold onto; Dahlia looped her own arm through his and gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Together they strode across the foyer to the door, which two servants eagerly opened for them. Like many other vampire households, Dahlia's family kept human servants around to do menial chores with the peasant-level vampires that were working off debts owed. The humans were mostly what they called, "Hopefuls," which were humans that were promised with life as a vampire once they proved themselves worthy. As most people knew, though, almost all of them worked until they died of natural causes or were chosen as dinner.

Rivier's ponytail fell over his shoulder as he assisted his companion into his chariot; he gave the driver, yet another human, the destination and slid into the car on the opposite side of Dahlia. Once the door was shut, the vampire lost his relaxed stance and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

"You went to Kessig again. Why?"

Of course he knew.

"You've picked up on keeping tabs on me?" she responded, dreading the conversation that would be following her words.

"Dollie, you know what will happen if you're found out-"

"I can take care of myself-"

"They will kill you, in the worst possible way-"

"Just stop worrying and focus on yourself-"

"Dahlia, stop!!!"

The harshness in Rivier's voice startled the vampire, who flinched a little and cowed back into her seat; the man raised his voice very rarely, but when he did it was time for her to shut her mouth and listen.

His cold eyes drifted to the floor of the moving carriage as he hung his head. A lock of his hair fell in front of his face, but he made no attempt to fix it.

"I understand... Your cause," he started, "I get it. But... Dahlia, you aren't Sorin. He was exiled because he was too powerful to kill, and everyone knows it. You, though, are a great vampire - you've done things that I couldn't ever hope to accomplish - but you aren't him. If your plan fails, or if preparations go wrong, the nobles will send their marauders to hunt you down. There won't be a place in Innistrad that will be safe."

"Then help me, Rivier!" she said in an exasperated tone, "You're the only one I know who has the influence with the nobility to get them on our side - I have friends in the other regions to aid our cause, but you are the only vampire in Stensia who can get the others to help us. Help me save the humans and, in turn, our own race"

The vampire's icy eyes drifted out the carriage window as he sat up, albeit in a slumped position. His face was contorted in an expression of desperation and a look she hadn't seen in him in nearly two hundred years. Fear.

"And if we fail," he whispered, "Then what?"

Dahlia reached out with her mind to touch his own; it was dark and cold, full of doubt. She used her vampire magic to envelope it with warm thoughts, but as she did she accidentally tapped into his thoughts. Visions of the trial that would be sure to come if he explained their plans to the wrong noble. Or if there would even be a trial: other flashes were just of Dahlia being torn apart and set on fire. With the thoughts, she felt the despair he felt just thinking about it.

The female moved across the carriage to sit with her companion, sliding her hand over his own and providing a gentle squeeze as she attempted to use her magic to calm his mind.

"We won't fail," she responded softly, "Because Sorin Markov has returned to Innistrad."

Rivier's head whipped around faster than even her advanced eyes could catch, and his face was now an obnoxious mixture of confusion and shock. He didn't need to say anything - he knew she was in his mind, and he knew that she could see the slew of questions that were flying through it.

"The Geist of Saint Traft saw him - appearing out of nowhere in Nephalia. And others have been backing his claims; he appears to be moving towards Gavony, but no one knows why. He's back, Rivier, he's back and soon all of Innistrad will know it! We can save our world, but we need help. We already have contacts in Nephalia, and I've already heard of revolutions happening in Gavony. It's our turn - if we can just convince one or two nobles to provide their guards, we can end this! The vampires are afraid of Sorin. If they know he's here, we can use that to our advantage!"

His eyes drifted down to their hands and used his free one to cover hers; he raised his head back up and opened his mouth to speak as she left his silenced mind,

"Just promise me this," he said, "Promise me that you have a back up plan. An escape."

I'll leave Innistrad, she thought, And I'll find a way to planeswalk him away with me.

"I have a plan, Rivier, just trust me on this."

The male vampire nodded but kept her hand fast in his. They stayed that way for the rest of the trip.