The weather had been mild in his own world, but here it was winter. He awakened from the spell his mother had cast on him to send him here huddled on a bench of some sort, in a wooded area. The World of Men. He shivered, and not because of the cold. There was danger everywhere in this world, but Shelley was here, somewhere, and Orlando would have never been able to live with himself if he didn’t look for his best friend.

He had covered his sword and his bow with his cloak, not wanting to seem fearsome to the people of this place, should he encounter them, and he drew it close around him as he stood up, taking in his surroundings. The bench was like nothing he had ever seen before. It was part wood, and part stone, and had some sort of coloring on the wood that made it green. There was also writing of some sort, which he couldn’t read, although he did know how to read the English language of men.

Leaving the bench, Orlando followed the path through the wooded area and was shocked when he came out on a busy street filled with cars. He gathered the names of the large foreign objects by listening to passersby on the street. His hearing was sharp and keen, his mind quick and clever, and he needed all those wits now just to keep himself from going mad in this strange world. The people all seemed to be in a great hurry. And the city! He looked up at the tall buildings, his mouth falling open. Tears froze in the corners of his eyes. How would he ever find Shelley here?

A light snow began to fall, dusting his hair and cloak. He felt cold down to his bones, so he started to walk just to keep warm. Darkness was falling. He walked quickly, trying to keep pace with the rush and bustle of the population, but still looking around, taking everything in, and searching desperately for any sign of Shelley.

Hopeless.

He threw back his head and cursed loudly in Elvish, and pounded his fist into a wall. The pain centered him. He clenched his teeth. He was an eternity away from home, and even though his mother had given him a magical jewel that would allow him to return home, he could only use it once. His heart sank as he realized that only by chance would he ever find Shelley here.

In the moment of that realization, a hand came down on his shoulder. Orlando froze. Slowly he turned and looked into a pair of ice blue eyes set into a grim face. The man was as tall as Orlando, if not a little taller, and his skin was very pale. His hair was short and white-blond, paler than elven hair. Orlando suddenly had a bad feeling. This was no human. This was a creature of evil. He reached for his dagger, but the thing caught hold of his wrist before he could get to it, with a speed like nothing Orlando had ever seen before.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, boy,” he said in Elvish.

Nothing could have surprised him more than to hear the words of his native tongue flowing from the stranger’s lips. He was speechless. He simply stared, and the surprise was all that kept him from being afraid.

“There seem to be a strangely large number of elves in New York lately,” he said conversationally.

“Have you-- have you seen Shelley, then?” Orlando gasped at last.

“You had better come with me.” Subtly the other drew at his wrist and Orlando had no choice but to follow.

“What manner of creature are you?”

He stopped and looked at Orlando.

“My name is Nathan Roulan.”

Nathan Roulan smiled, revealing a sharp set of fangs. A vampire!

Him litle answerd th'angry Elfin knight;
He neuer meant with words, but swords to plead his right.