Shivering and cold, the naked boy of 15 woke against the rough bark of a tree, though the burning warmth of the sun streaming in through the branches startled him and he was forced to sit up, pushing himself back against the snow refreshing coldness of the tree.

"Ria...Riavich," he murmured, though the voice didn't seem to belong to himself. It sounded deeper and instead of rough and unsteady like a normal growing teen, it was smooth and soft.

Shaking still, he couldn't remember what happened, it was like a lapse in time. The last clear recollection was of himself laying in his lover's bed, when the door swung open.... Drawing his knees up to his chest, he thought he could smell a fire. No, it wasn't a fire, it was smoke and glancing off to his left, the gray fog above the once established village proved his suspicions. The scene drew a flash of a memory, but he was already scrambling to his feet and rushing through the trees, the underbrush cutting at his shins and ankles.

In his sudden blind panic, he almost didn't notice that he now stood knee deep in the cold waters of a stream and before him stood a bewildered boy, no older than himself, dressed in a plain brown robe, with the most beautiful golden eyes and hair to match, but perhaps it was just a trick of the sunlight? Lusciane decided the being in front of him could be nothing less than an angel. And while the lad finally regained his composure from the surprise, Lusciane became lost in the depths of the innocent eyes.

"Sir, are you alright?" A step forward, into the water, the robe becoming wet as a small warm hand curled about hat of Lusciane's. "Oh, sir, you are freezing!"

Glancing down to the hands, the naked one was distracted and shocked by the reflection he saw. He was no longer a boy of 15, he was a grown man, despite the lack of a beard. Black hair hung down to his shoulders, in loose messy curls, the features of his face were more defined, though somewhat feminine, his eyes were no longer a deep brown, but were lighter, even amber in colour. But before he could take in the rest of his body, he was being tugged out of the water, and the angel was talking again.

"Sir, I will get you some clothes, but do you have a name?"

"Lusciane Nacht," and his lover's voice drifted through his mind, 'our clan must be remembered.'
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