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Dark Inhibitions
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Satin sheets and silk robes accented by glimmers of golden jewelry laid finely on the bed, Virin serving only as their centerpiece. A chilled bottle of wine sat open and partially gone on the nightstand just left of the bed, a fine glass only thinly filled with the indigo liquid setting just beside the bottle. The only light in the room consisted of a gloomily flickering candle, burning away into the night.

Slowly, Virin sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. After a moment, he took the bottle into his hand, pouring a fair amount of the wine into the glass. He was never quite one for alcohol, but he had bought the bottle, and it would be a shame to have it go to waste. Regardless, at this point, a few glasses, or perhaps the whole bottle, wouldn’t hurt. Gradually, he brought the glass to his lips, taking a light sip, his eyes falling shut as he took a moment to take in the wine’s entirety.

Quietly, a thin wisp of smoke from the candle snaked it way through the air, gradually tracing Virin’s form into the air. As Virin opened his eyes, a slight smile befell his face.

“Tor’Rahk’Al… We must stop meeting like this. A quiet, dark room; a plush bed; only a candle to give light? People are going to start getting the wrong idea.”

A thin, wispy voice floated through the air, each word peppered with harsh consonants, almost like the crackling of flames.

“Do not toy with me, Virin. I have not time for these foolish games you play.”

“What could you ever so possibly mean? Surely you can see the work I have put into our little agreement.”

“The things you call ‘work’ are nothing short of excuses and pitiful attempts at stalling your end of our arrangements. You are to seek out lives to fu-“

“Yes, yes. ‘To fuel your everlasting and insatiable hunger for the souls of the material, and to empower you beyond that of your rivals.’ I understand.”

As Virin’s words flowed through the air, the candle’s flame grew brighter, almost like that of a campfire, and the smoke coalesced into a shape much more defined, almost humanoid, although otherworldly and wild.

“Very well. I believe it is time I bestowed a new gift upon my servant, as well as a reminder of our pact.”

“Thank you, my ma-“

Virin’s words were cut short by a pained gasp while his claws dug sharply into the sheets where he sat. Slowly, infernal runes gradually burned themselves into Virin’s hands, working their way up his arms. Smoke gently trailed upwards as the runes went about their work, Virin’s teeth gritted tightly, daring not to mutter a sound as he fell to the ground, his claws continuing to carve his pain into the wooden flooring.

“You will remember our agreement, and in exchange, I will grant you power, but let it be known that this power will always come at a cost. Tread lightly when calling upon my name. You are expendable.”

As the runes came to a stop just below Virin’s elbows, the smoke dissipated. Gradually, the candle dimmed to its original thin light, and Virin sat on the floor, leaning against the bed. Gently, two lonely tears rolled down his face, falling to the floor. His hands shaking, Virin took his necklace in his hand, rolling it in his hands as he sat alone, the scent of burnt skin and fur lightly hanging in the room.
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The Storyteller
Virin Sole
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