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Once your decision is made you spring into action. You take a quick step back and snatch up the closest jack-o-lantern. With it clutched in your arms you chant out a ward as fast as your lips can move.

Upon uttering the final word of your spell, Ell stumbles back as if a tidal wave had knocked against him. With a look of confusion contorting his flawless face, he reaches out so that his long fingers can test the boundaries of your ward.

"So, you are a rebel," he snarls, after caressing the edge of your invisible shield.

"I'm not one of the rebels," you say with your arms still wrapped tightly around the carved pumpkin. The heat of the candle inside, licks your arms and a prickle of discomfort burns your skin, but as Ell circles you, you can only grip it tighter. "But, I wanted to have a chance to voice my concerns before you make your decision."

"This certainly isn't helping my decision," he says with a huff, his eyes never leaving yours as he paces.

"Please, give me a chance," you plead.

He stops and considers you, his hands clenching and unclenching as his gaze flicks over you. Time stands still and all you hear is the sound of the leaves rustling in the wind and the distant lilt of music drifting from the ballroom. Finally, his whole body sinks as he relaxes his muscles and surrenders to your request.

"Fine, I will hear you out, but know my patience with these games is waning." He walks over to the edge of the balcony and reclines on the balustrade, his arms crossed and his eyes narrow.

"Thank you," you say. You relax your own grip and take a few steps closer to Ell. You are mindful of your ward, careful not to get so close that Ell is sent flying over the balcony's edge by the force of the spell. He, however, doesn't flinch as you approach. Some part of him must trust you, so you try to trust him by setting the jack-o-lantern upon the ground and then speaking your peace.

"I am not a rebel. They are my friends and I could have joined them tonight, but instead I came to this ball in hopes of finding the dream I've had since I was a child — the promise of a life eternal. Which is why you must heed my warning and not kill the rebels. It is for your sake as much as it is for theirs."

"Oh?" Ell asks with a slight smile on his lips. "How so?"

"You kill those rebels and you will reduce the town's morale. Those who aren't questioning their existence may very well start tomorrow. This will only lead to more and more rebels. However, if you show them mercy, that will only hurt their cause and may even change some of their hearts."

"You have a way with politics," says Ell thoughtfully. "You will fit in well with vampire society."

You sigh with relief, but when you see that Ell still reclines cross-armed on the balustrade, you realize that you may have celebrated too soon.

"However, there is much you still don't understand. To let them go will also look like weakness to many in our society and that has its own repercussions. Your insight is a good one, if I were to consider ever returning, but I'm not a glutton like some here. Once I've found one feeder, I'll be happy to focus all my attention on them for many years to come. So, any threat of how the town may collapse as a result of my punishing the rebels has little effect on me."

You swallow hard and look down at the jack-o-lantern, wondering how long your ward will last.

"But, I admire your attempt," continues Ell. "It is a good bit of insight nonetheless. So, let's see if you can do it again. Give me another reason to show mercy."

He now props himself up and takes one step forward, closing whatever little gap there was between him and the ward. He looks at you hard and rests his hands upon his hips with a look of challenge in his smile.

This is it, your last chance to save your friends. You need to make this count. But what to say? You look around you for inspiration. Out in the middle of a stone balcony, all that you have is what's on you. You think of the silver pin you bought with Ailisa this morning, of the pilfered statue still heavy in your pocket, and of the knife pressing against your forearm, still hidden in your sleeve. Can any of them spark your imagination?

- Silver Pin: ch 82

- Embracing Couple Statue: ch 83

- Knife: ch 84

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