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He didn't know why he'd come back. There was nothing for him here. He'd tried to searching for his Maker long after he felt his absence in this city and long even after that in other cities and rural areas. Godric was off the maps, at least until he wanted to be found again. There was still the matter of the Hunter who killed his prodigy Julia but that would be dealt with soon enough. He knew he was getting closer to the man who took her from him. He wouldn't stop until that Hunter was dead. He couldn't. It wouldn't be a quick death either. He would draw it out nice and slow. He didn't deserve quick and merciful. Julia didn't get that so why should he? He'd found his prodigy bloodied and tortured. Then the filthy Hunter had gone so far as to drink her blood. Whether to heal his wounds or just get drunk on it, Erik didn't care. Julia deserved better. But he didn't expect to be walking the streets of Sacrosanct again. He eyed the passers by on the sidewalks as if blaming them for his current predicament. He'd never found anything to tie him here until he found Godric for that short time. In those moments, everything seemed to fall into place and everything was okay again. He was able to relax, if only for a moment, embracing the presence of his Maker. The only other time he'd felt any semblence of peace was with that pretty witch at the bar. Something about her helped calm him, or at least distract him while they were talking. But she was gone, an ember in the wind just like most other humans and supernatural species. Some of them were immortal like him, sure, but even then, everything was temporary. There were too many other places to be. No one stuck around for long. But then....he could have sworn he caught a familiar whiff. It was blood for sure, lots of blood. Some dried and old, but blood none the less. His nose wrinkled and curious, he followed the smell. It trailed down some back alleys and he furrowed his brows in curiosity. Why was someone wandering down dangerous alleys if they were wounded? Either they were running from someone or they were up to no good. And yet he couldn't place the scent, only that it was familiar. The closer he got to the source, the more he felt it. Magic. Ther ewas a witch or warlock nearby. He sniffed the smell again. That explained it a little. There was magic in the blood. He almost considered turning back right then. What would he care about helping a witch? They'd never been anything but trouble for him. But then he remembered the pretty witch at the bar and he scowled. Finally he sighed and rolled his eyes. "Fine." He growled more to himself than anything as he turned back and continued following the scent. Before he knew it, he was standing across the street from a boarded up shop. It seemed familiar too. Had he been here before? Everything was a blur in his rabid hunt for Godric. He glanced around but didn't see anyone, at least not visibly. And yet he felt like there was someone else here. "Hello?" He called out to no one in particular. |