The air in the Grand Hall was thick and cold as the fang of a vampire. An official welcome ceremony was in progress at that moment for the delegation from the Vampire Academy of Nocturne, and the years of mistrust and rivalry of one century were merely covered with the thin, fragile veneer of the Ashborn facliced faculty and students.
They were starkly beautiful as opposed to the fiery, proud dragonkin of Pyronis. The vampires were moving with silent fluid grace, clad elegantly in high-collared, deep midnight blue silver robes. Their faces were an aristocratic beauty; their skin was as pale and as luminous as the twin moons; their eyes a kaleidoscope of strange captivating colors-amethyst, emerald, sapphire.
