Perhaps Admiration

 In the dimness of the chamber, the flickering shadows danced across his contorted features, yet, despite the horror unfolding before her, there lingered a glimmer of empathy within her heart. Myhra's eyes softened with compassion.

With measured steps, Myhra approached the fallen vampire, her movements graceful yet resolute. Ending his misery swiftly would be merciful thing she could do and end in a moment. She knelt beside him, her hand hovering above the neck of his writhing form. Perhaps he would not be so oppose to aid now? The glimmer of hope was hard to resist, and in that moment of quiet contemplation, she made her decision. With a steady resolve, she drew a sharp blade across her palm, the sting of the cut barely registering amidst the hymn of blood coursing through her veins.

As her blood pooled in her hand, vibrant with the raw power of her magic, Myhra extended her hand towards the vampire's rotting heart which was thumping loudly as if wanting to burst out of his chest and pour it. Drop of the rich, crimson liquid glistened in the dim light, its heady aroma filling the air with a potent allure. With a hesitant breath he woke up, the vampire's gaze locked upon the offered gift, his decayed flesh knitting itself back together as if by some unseen hand..

Myhra watched with a mixture of solace and angst as his once lifeless eyes now alight with a spark of strength. As the process completed, he cowered in the corner, his eyes wide with fear and trauma. Even the sight of Myhra's shadow made him flinch.

He scrambled to his feet, the initial gratitude in his eyes quickly overshadowed by a menacing glare. "You swindler!, you think this changes anything?" he hissed, his voice laced with venom. "You've only incited the inevitable."

Before she could react, he charged at her, a blur of shadow and fury. Myhra stood her ground, her hand still bleeding, eyes fixed on the vampire with a calm intensity.

"You can't win against me," he snarled as he closed the distance between them, "Not now, not ever!"

Myhra's lips curled into a small, defiant smile. "I wasn't trying to win. Just trying to wake you up."

As he lunged, she sidestepped gracefully, her movements fluid and precise. The room seemed to pulse with their clashing energies, the air thick with the tension of their confrontation.

"Foolish girl," the vampire spat, regrouping for another attack. "You should have let me rot. Mercy is a weakness."

Myhra's gaze hardened, her voice steady. "Mercy is not weakness; it's a choice. One you'll never understand."

The vampire's eyes narrowed, his fury intensifying. "Then you leave me no choice but to show you the consequences of your so-called mercy." he looked almost like a menacing monster, with eyes glowing red and vein seething with fury.

He lunged again, faster this time, his movements a blur of darkness. Myhra, with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly, deflected his attack, her blood still dripping and leaving a trail of crimson on the cold stone floor.

"You think your blood magic can save you?" he taunted, circling her like a predator. "You think it makes you strong?"

"My strength doesn't come from my blood magic alone," she replied, her voice unwavering. "It comes from my will, my resolve, and my belief in something greater than power."

The vampire's sneer deepened. "And what is that, pray tell?"

"Hope," she said simply. "Hope and the knowledge that there's always a way to fight back."

With a roar, the vampire attacked once more, but this time, Myhra was ready. She channeled her blood magic, summoning flames that burst forth from her hands, creating a barrier of fire between them. The vampire was thrown backward, his eyes widening in shock. He realized that Myhra wasn't just physically formidable but possessed a supernatural conviction that made her almost invincible. The true source of her power does not lies in her physical strength but in her supernatural psyche. Her psyche was too fearless, too resilient. Even the illusions of nightmares couldn't touch her. But how to defeat such a being? There had to be a way...

"You can't keep this up forever," he growled, desperation creeping into his voice.

"I don't need to," Myhra replied, her eyes blazing as she swept them over the carpet where her blood had dropped. "I just need to hold on long enough to find a way to stop you."

Their battle raged on, a fierce dance of shadow and fire. The room seemed to shrink around them, the walls closing in as their powers clashed. But through it all, Myhra stood firm almost unyielding to break off. The vampire, now desperate and enraged, threw himself again and again at her with renewed fury. His claws slashed through the air, seeking to rend and tear, but Myhra's movements were a symphony of grace and precision. She deflected his strikes with a fluidity that belied her strength.

"You're delusional if you think you can outlast me," he hissed, his voice a venomous whisper.

"I'm not trying to outlast you," she replied calmly, her eyes never leaving his. "I'm trying to show you that you can be better than this."

The vampire paused, a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. But it was quickly replaced by cold, hard resolve. "Better? I am a predator. I take what I want. That is the way of our kind."

Myhra's eyes softened, and for a moment, the intensity of the battle seemed to fade. "It doesn't have to be. There's always a choice."

The vampire snarled and lunged again, but this time, Myhra didn't move. She stood her ground, her hand still bleeding, her blood magic swirling around her like a protective shield. The vampire's momentum carried him forward, and he found himself unable to break through the barrier of her will.

"Why?" he demanded, his voice a mix of anger and confusion. "Why do you fight for those who would never fight for you?"

Myhra's lips twisted into a wry smile, a glint of sarcasm in her eyes. "Oh, you mean like how I just saved your ungrateful existence? Sometimes, I fight for those who can't see past their own noses. Keeps life interesting."

The vampire's eyes burned with fury. "You're so naive," he spat, his voice dripping with disdain. "You haven't seen the real, cruel world. You live under delusions of hope and mercy. This world is not forgiving, and it certainly never forgets. Your kindness will be your undoing. You think you've saved me, but all you've done is seal your death in the hands of a ruthless enemy. You'll learn, sooner or later, that mercy is a fool's game."

Myhra's smile didn't waver. Instead, it grew sharper, her eyes narrowing. "Maybe I am naive, but I'd rather be a fool with hope than a monster without it. And as for sealing my fate—well, let's just say I'm willing to take that risk. Because deep down, I believe in a world where even the darkest of us can find redemption.."

The vampire sneered, his confidence faltering for a fraction of a second. "Redemption? Don't make me laugh Brutality is in my blood. My true nature."

"Nature can be changed," Myhra replied, her voice steady. "Choices define us more than our nature. And right now, you have a choice. You can continue down your path of darkness, or you can try to find a way out."

Myhra met his sneer with unwavering calm. "It's naturally for you or not, redemption is always within reach for those who seek it," she countered, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. "But if you prefer to cling to your nature, then so be it. Just know that even the fiercest predator can be tamed."

The vampire looked at her, truly seeing her for the first time. His fury was still there, but beneath it, something else flickered—doubt. "Why do you care? Why not just kill me and be done with it?" And then his expression hardened. "You don't know anything about me."

"I know enough," Myhra replied. "I know that you were once someone who didn't revel in darkness. You had a life, dreams, maybe even loved ones. You weren't always this way."

The vampire's eyes widened, and for the first time, he seemed truly shaken. He stepped back, his confidence wavering. "You're... not like the others." For a moment, the vampire seemed to consider her words, his gaze locked on hers. Then he shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You're wasting your time."

"No, I'm not," she disagreed. "And neither are you. You can choose a different path."

For a moment, there was silence. The air was thick with tension, but also with possibility. The vampire looked at her, "You think... you think I can change?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Myhra replied, her voice filled with conviction. "But only if you want to."

The vampire hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. The weight of centuries of darkness and violence seemed to hang on his shoulders. But then, slowly, he looked up, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"Maybe," he said softly. "Maybe I can."

Myhra smiled, a warm, genuine smile that seemed to light up the room. "Maybe!"

"Why is that wound of yours healing? Maybe I can start my redemption by helping you bandage it," he asked, his eyes scanning the floor where her blood had pooled. The sight made him shudder internally. Did she intentionally let it spill so that when the opportunity came, she could burn him alive?

Myhra smiled, a glint of both amusement and warning in her eyes. "No worries! A little blood never scared me. And besides, I trust you won't be foolish enough to make me regret it." Now he felt wearier of her than before, sensing the layers of strength and resolve beneath her calm exterior. It seemed he had no better choice than to surrender, at least for now.

As the vampire stood there, contemplating his next move, the room seemed to grow lighter, the oppressive darkness lifting. Myhra's blood magic still glowed faintly, a reminder of the power within her, but now it was a power tempered with compassion and hope.

Myhra, seeing him lower his defenses, also lowered hers. But the moment she did, the vampire lunged at her, his clawed hand wrapping around her neck, ready to snap it. Myhra swiftly raised her cut palm, and instantly a crimson dagger emerged from her wound. She turned it upside down and stabbed it through his heart. The previous blood she had given him to heal now fueled the dagger, causing it to explode in a burst of crimson energy.

Zhelis staggered back, a huge hole in his chest. He could no longer stand and fell to his knees, looking up at her with a mix of shock and pain. "Quite disappointing! It proves that I could never really trust you."

Myhra's eyes bore into his, unflinching. "You look down on humans as fools, don't you? A world mostly populated with the very species you despise - the same world you claim to know the reality as a cruelly unforgiving, unforgetting. Yet, you still choose not to be different from the rest?"

"Do you understand what sets humans apart fromany other organism on the planet, just a two percent of humans are capable of keeping the entire species at the apex of the evolutionary chain for millennia? Ever wonder why? It's the difference between the person and their persona—the seer and the seen within us. The one who leads their own life, and the other who simply follows the world. I sought to strengthen the seer within you, so you could lead your own life, untainted by the world."

"So you too were playing tricks on me? Never thought you could be this cunning, What an icon of righteousness." he mocked her.

"Deceiving someone or being deceived by someone—both are crimes under the scout's rule book," Myhra said, her voice serious and unwavering. "How could I let down my master who worked hard to trained and made sure I follow every rules."

Her's eyes blazed as she looked down at the fading vampire. "I knew it was a risk, but I hoped—just once—that you could prove me wrong. That there was a chance what truth I'm told to engrave in my blood might be wrong."

As the life drained from his eyes, Myhra's expression hardened. "I wanted to believe that. More importantly wanted to give your life a fair chance." Her voice softened, a tinge of disappointment seeping in. "But you made your choice." His eyes widened as if a new light entered his very being. Death doesn't torment him as much as it did previously.

She watched him take his last breath, her heart heavy with the burden of what might have been. "Farewell, Zhelis," she whispered. "May your soul find the peace you denied yourself in this life."

As the vampire's body crumbled to dust, Myhra felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She sighed wearily, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on her, but next instant her face hardened as she spoke to the entity responsible for the entire incident. "All of this because of you. You're the one who called for help, so desperate that you dared to use your blood oath, am I right?" She glanced at the shadowy corner. "Come out now, and explain yourself. If I come over there, I swear you'll regret it."

At Myra's outburst, a young, frail figure emerged from the shadows. His body shook violently, as if he were terrified to the core, cowering in the corner like a wounded animal. His trembling form and golden wide-eyed expression faithfully conveying his overwhelming terror and something else—perhaps admiration for her power.