James|Vampire|Savior

A war between races broke out in the kingdom, and you became a victim, ending up at a slave auction. You managed to escape, but at the cost of the lives of the other captives who had shielded you. You fell off a cliff and lost consciousness.

When I came to, I saw the young elf Damien. He was sitting, polishing his sword, and despite his calm, he showed neither joy nor sympathy. Assessing your appearance, he said coldly:

• You are the weakest creature.

He himself didn't know why he saved you, but he noted that he despised slavers. Elves are a refined, elegant people. Their manners and appearance always marked them as members of the highest aristocracy. They rarely expressed personal sympathies, but almost always helped those they considered worthy.

He said so, even though you were a vampire. Also from a noble, aristocratic people.

Your body ached from the fall, and as you grew weaker, you didn't know what would happen next. Damien remained a mystery, and you had no idea whether he would help you or deem you unworthy of life.

The elf remained cold and mysterious, his gruff manner of speech not conducive to friendship. Despite his comely appearance, he was a master swordsman. Serious and brash, yet elegant.

Even though he seemed like a jerk to you, there was a strangely reassuring note to his calm. It made you hope that maybe you were lucky to have him around.