Azra here with what is,just a revision really. Was a lot of fun to write however, and put some serious time into so I made it a blog. Inspired by Legend of Korra, Thirty Days of Night, and probably some Prince of Persia, I revamped this not in use character for something new. Enjoy….or not I suppose lol

Chapter One Bitten

Natalie was born in Saudi Arabia and gradually moved more towards the southern Levant. She took a love in the art of music and martial arts. Learning all she could and doing rather well at both, admittedly music more then hand to hand. Still she was commendable at both. A rather easy going life doing her best to support her family when not training. And even after her daily labors training and practice she took time to be with her little sister who was nicknamed Alice. For nineteen years or so all was lovely in her small town. She could remember that night, the Mongol's had come. After a conquer of Syria they came to her village, they were not a fighting nation. They had protectors but they were few and the Mongol's were vast in comparison.

Natalie remembered when they kicked in the wooden door, a masked man took her fathers arm with a trio of hacks. The torch light made an erie glow to the room a low light hiding much yet keeping things clear. She remembered rolling and picking up the blade. His fathers shamshir story had it granddad used it during a crusade, of which side to this day the siren of the village could not remember. Nat remembered as she tried to drive it deep in the masked man, one of his guards however would not permit it. The blade went into his gut, the near seven foot tall man was not phased even faintly from the laceration. His grip tightened around her hand and clenched. It was the first time Nat experienced real pain a break a scrape a cut they were nothing. This man's grip was so much more then anything she had ever witnessed. Bones broke like twigs her scream harmonized with the others of the night. What the masked man said, she did not know. The curses he spoke were never fully heard. All the wounded lamb knew was the eyes behind that mask, those eyes of wicked intention. The fangs that seamed to grow from the canines of the two guards. A scimitar was healed to her neck by the large man, whose skin made nothing but his pearl canines to be identifiable.

What was identifiable however was what the masked soulless man, if he was even a man did. The deflowering of her sister Alice and taking of her mother soon after. The sound of their blood splashing along the walls, the screams had died down. It seamed like eyes from every window and crevice looked into Nat's home. Like the kings and their shows in throne rooms they watched. Exposed and bloody corpses laid grotesque and they looked on like vultures. After he had finished his sick game and after the slaughter the man cloaked almost entirely kneeled down to her father. He was struggling and fighting, he could not raise a fist to them his grip instead was tight on his would. Refusing to let the blood from the stump break free, resisting the inevitable. Her mother and sisters blood ran down the shade's neck and cloak blood bubbling along the slit for his lips and rolling down. A shafrah was pulled calmly from a sheathe on his belt the small curved blade sliding into Natalie's father his last words unclear gurgles.

After the savagery that befell her mother and sister, the murder of her father it was expectable that Natalie was in a state of panic. Her nails were clawing into the sandstone walls. Trying to dig a hold, her body trying to back up more and more despite having no where to go. Tears marked her cheeks she felt practically dehydrated by it. There was a want to scream, to fight she couldn't even do that however as the scimitar would then find a new home. Despite the terror in her eyes, the rivers poring from tear ducts, the child like dread the masked figure advanced on her. Nefarious to the core and more cold then anything the villager could ever know in her current life time he advanced. That mask he wore never moved higher then his lips. Never did she see his face just demoralizing brown eyes, fists and palm strikes were sent his way. All of which pushed aside and shrugged off as if nothing. He simply let her pound until exhausted and then when she had no more fight to give. When blue eyes seamed hollow instead of like beautiful gems, when her heart was shattered and will broke he caught her last palm strike with her wounded arm. One tug down bones were week arm dislocated, a followed knee shattered elbow joint, and a coming strike destroyed the limb entirely on the inside. In the world she could not so much as imagine machines and medicine would still struggle to mend the wound. In the now however it was impossible to so much as imagine the limb being repairable. No retaliation left to give the masked mystery bit into her neck. At first she felt a pain like no other, then a pleasure she had yet to ever feel at her young and isolated age. Then it all faded into black.

Chapter Two Fangs

For some time she was kept in shadows and then when they felt Natalie was no longer bound by her past Nat was introduced into the Golden Horde. She was to be a body guard for the masked man that was her personal nightmare and of course whoever lead the Horde through its history. She was there during the overthrow of Toghan Temur. History would say they were free of trouble for roughly the next almost twenty years. This was not truthfully the case however simply the unknown masked entity lead his canites to quell any who might try and cause turmoil. Natalie studied other forms of music and combat to drown out her blazing hate. She was still no one a face in the crowd. No might to get vengeance so she played along cutting into herself at night to silent her wrath.

During thirteen eighty two the Golden Horde moved into Russia in effort to besiege Moscow. This was the first time at least for Natalie to experience combat with the conventional fire arms. They could gain no real ground and so it was her masked master in his dark king like tent who suggested deception. They played nice and then came a slaughter. Nat knew at least two hundred of the twenty four thousand kills were her own. A fatal blow was dealt by Tamerlane later in Tokhtamysh's games of power. They were forced to retreat, and with that the Golden Horde was more or less lost. And the unseen monsters within became a urban legend. It was the early fourteen hundreds and it was time for the masked figure to move on. Natalie was put to rest for a few years as the Horde was disintegrating Natalie was of little use. She would be in a deep slumber until her master called.

There was a hundred year span between late fifteen hundreds and early sixteen hundreds that had her at the hidden masters side. His servant and tool during his ever branching climb for rule, She served as his slave kneeling at feet and doing his every whim. Of acts of untold terrorism, a earth quake or fire that killed a politician or important newsworthy figure. Was sometimes just a cover up for the bloody concert she would play. Nobody expected the pretty Arab sent as a show or a gift would be the threat. Other times she was forced to do the more predictable kill hiding in shadow and driving her traditional Arabian Ancient Dagger slammed into the heart. This servitude and bottled hate would go on. She would sleep eventually yet again until around eighteen thirteen.

Chapter 3 Resist

Blood passed from slit wrist to her lips and from her resting place the ancient vampire awoke. The mysterious masked figure had a part planed in the Argentine Wars. Waged over centralism in modern Argentina was cause of the early years. Her master simply worked both ends though a means to an end. Ever the scheming tactician of his own games. It would go from eighteen fourteen to eighteen seventy six and during this time Natalie was one many pawns. The first battle of significance was the Battle of Cepeda. It laid waste to Buenos Aires leaders seeking to control the country under the Argentine Constitution of Eighteen Nineteen. Natalie played a untold key role in that stage, just as she had a part in the division of the United Providences.

Under the commands of her master and his own means she followed Manuel Oribe. A individual who would lead numerous campaigns and a ally of deep importance. And like oh so many he seamed to be eating from her masters hands. For years they bounced from one victory to the next ever guiding the sides to her masters favor. They played a part in putting the Last Federalist Revolt to an end. Finally in the year of eighteen eighty Natalie had drained the lives of rogue vampires and trained enough that she thought she could finally resolve the vengeance she harbored for five hundred seventy some years.

Like the sirens of the ocean she lured guards to her and claimed their life. Having been with the Mongol people she was no slouch to brutality. Any kill was excepted in her mind. The vampire was still a slave and a child in truth however and was not as sly as she should be. Her emotions got the best of her, bodies were ripped apart violently. Songs swayed men to take their lives or whistled melodies that made the pretty mades skulls pop like melons. Master, nefarious master however he knew she would do this long before she had thought it. He had heard her from the first kill and stood arms folded behind his back at perfect ease. Nat thought she held a chance, and so it appeared in the end. Dodging weaving and striking she finally had her master in her clutches. Teeth sank into his neck, she remembered that moment that glorious pride when she knew vengeance was her own. Then her joy was cut short as she finally actually tasted the blood upon her tongue.

Master occasionally did bleed in a fight and she had tasted his blood, those rare moments were treasured. Each brought a day dream of obtaining her life ambition. The crimson cascading down lips and chin it was not masters, he was behind her again she had been played. Her retaliation was little better then five centuries before it. "You were a worm as a child, a slave as a teenager, dead before made a real woman. You could never be at my side even if you could some how best me in combat." While not the longest or harshest line it shredded her again, the scars she was emotionally covered in were reopened. Then with a single back hand the vampire was tossed outside the window. Knocked into the icy harbor, a servant she knew would place her back in where she rested. Natalie had trained, had climbed the ranks, had lashed out and had failed yet again.

Chapter Forward Prologue

When Nat next awoke Allianete found herself in the presence of a woman with black and pink hair. She had no conditions just wished to perform an experiment. In return the vampire would have her best chance at getting revenge. Nothing was said of the masked man, nor of the time. This was simply a test to the witch, a intricate symbol was etched around Natalie as she laid upon a cold metal slab the likes of which she had never seen. Pain filled her as the room danced of bright red strokes of lightning. Ali felt ripped apart torn from the smallest of levels, then she felt better then she ever had. Her body rebuilding and feeling stronger then it had ever been. A life was in her eyes that was seemingly lost over seven hundred years ago, the woman to thank gone.

Venturing from the basement a bit wobbly as she learned her new body she came across a window. A rectangular shape was showing a report of some new empire being founded. The Iberian Empire to be exact its Emperor was a man shrouded in mystery to the world. It had been over a century sense Natalie saw her master, it had never been within her power to learn who he was or what he was. As a pawn never did the Arabian vampire know who she followed. Natalie did know that a masked man had damned her to seven hundred years of anguish. That a masked man had ravaged her family in the night. That a masked man had slain her blood relatives in cold murder with uncaring eyes. That a masked man had made her a slave on all levels to do his building. And now she knew there was a masked man named Impero that had a lot of power for being nobody. A master of secrets, Impero that was who she needed to drive a blade through the heart of.