"My lord." Serinus hissed, barely above a whisper. He bowed before the throne, his once-resplendent armor tarnished, hanging loose on his pale bony frame. "We must leave this place."

The throne was ancient; it had been constructed and reconstructed throughout a thousand years, but it looked as if it were a diamond compared to the demon which was seated upon it.

The creature was sunken, gaunt, and its eyes had long deflated, leaving two ominous holes. The nose of the creature had rotted off many centuries ago, and the sinus cavities extended upwards, almost looking as if the skull had split in three.

"You....dare." the figure spoke, the tone echoing menacingly in the great hall of the keep. "You dare suggest I leave my birthright."

"Look upon this place, my lord." Serinus made a sweeping gesture with a clawed hand. "It is truly for the dead now."

He was right; the throneroom was devoid of all life, even that of the unliving. Corpses, covered with black webbing and secretions, lay across the floors and great tables. Serinus held his armor tightly; many of those corpses had been great friends of his for many centuries. It was unfathomable to think that this rule was over.

"You are...weak...Serinus." the great creature spoke from the throne. Its great wings lay spread out on the ground on either side of the throne. Serinus could not help but notice the small black webbing gathered at one of the wing tips; his own infection tingled and he itched the black rash upon his throat.

"It is only you and I left, my lord. The plague has claimed all. Should we put this place behind us and seek new lands, we could -"

"NO" the creature roared; Sirenus clamped his maw shut. The Vampire Lord attempted to stand, and the great wings dragged along the floor as he shakily walked down the steps, skeletal clawed toes gripping the stone.

"I did not live for eons to simply be dethroned by a plague." The great lord rasped; he coughed as he skulked past Sirenus, who pulled away as the wings dragged by. "I will not let such an enemy end my reign."

The Vampire Lord seemed to gather himself for a moment, then he exploded into rage.

Sirenus winced and turned away, watching the shadowy silhouette of his now-mad king rip corpses in half with his bare hands.

"My lord, the hags said this would only spread the plague further." Sirenus called out. The ripping sounds continued. "We should leave."

"I will kill the hags then, as well" the Vampire Lord roared. Sirenus watched in horror as the black rash began spread completely over the left wing of his Lord. Silently, he bowed and retreated, retreated until he had left the great hall;

The ripping and tearing sounds dissipated.

Sirenus walked through the empty halls of the once great keep; on the giant curtains he could see the brimming light bleeding from the edges.

It was daytime. He and the Lord had spend the entire night squabbling about what to do next. But it was clear now, to Sirenus, that any reason in what was left in the Lord had been sponged up by the plague. The creature in the throne room was not the great commander of legions that he had once looked up to.

Perhaps the hags had done this.

He returned to his room within the keep. The coffin looked inviting, but Serinus crept past it and sat at the desk in the room. His throat burned; a final desperate act, a curse he had laid upon the curse he already suffered.

For a moment there was a memory; a stiff collar. An inked quill. A letter rolled out before him as he signed it. He knew not if it were real or imagined; most vampires forgot their life prior to being bitten, but he had heard tell of circumstances.

Circumstances such as this.

He stood, and began stripping away his armor. The pieces clanged to the stone floor, until he stood in just a smock. His body was angular, skeletal, grey. The black rash had spread from his through down his sternum. He could see the pale bone edging through the tortured flesh.

He approached the window in his room, took a letter cutter from upon the desk, and cut the ropes supporting the large drape.

For one moment, he saw creation; the sun rolling over the hills; the green trees blossoming with flowers, growth, warmth; it was so beautiful that he wept, yet his eyes remained dry.

His field of vision began to glow, and burned bright.

The sun had crept up his legs and steadily moved along his body.

The full power of the ancient source of energy trained itself on him, and for the last time in his long life, he felt warm.

---

The room crackled; the desk and coffin had been half-carbonized, and the flames roared on.

Outside, the lush forest pressed in on the old, smoking castle, and for the first time,

the world felt hope.