~Time passed at a different pace for him. His mind ran on a separate level from the rest of the world. For weeks at a time he would isolate himself, secluded and without food. It was like ritual fasting. Room lit by candles as he poured over tomes and ancient lore. There was nothing that couldn't capture him. All knowledge was worth having. Marcus was a man who understood such things, a man of faith where Azrael was a man of intellect. They both searched for the meaning in their existence. Since Kalika had come to the island Azrael had locked himself away trying to find ancient wards and mantras that could partially bind a person from the influence of a creature like her. Up to that point he had found very little that did not require a practitioner of the sort that was no longer around in this day and age. Still he continued his search knowing that the time was well worth what could be gained.~

~Zelda, the short stout woman who ran the clubs stage show lumbered down the stairs to Azraels underground home with a letter in her hand. Finding him leaned over a table studying a page in the Upanishads that spoke of demons. If there was anything that came close to Kali then it was a demon. Head lifted, the flickering candle light painting that hair a bright white. As he took the letter from her they shared pleasentries before she went back up to her work. For a long moment he simply stared at the letter, turning it over in his hands. He had only given the marks to her to save her from Lilith, and with time they had been fading just as he had promised. Not for a moment had he allowed himself to be tempted to see her. He had not even responded to her gift. Afraid that getting too close would make him hungry for her power. It had been said that such a thing could happen once the first mark was given. Finally though he cut the seal on the letter and unfolded it.~

~Help. She needed help, and he could not for a moment see what he could possibly do to help her. Setting the letter aside, he propped it against one of the books so that he could see it as he pulled a nearly sheer sheet of parchment towards him. From an ink stopper he pulled an old fashioned pen, the tip lightly wiped against the clay pot to remove the excess ink that hung from it. Pen was put to paper, and he wrote in an effortless kaligraphic script. It was the way things had been done in his day, and the way he did them still for he was not as much a modernized vampire as some. The return letter was simple ~

Silent,

     I do not know what I can do to help you that your own kind or your Ulfric could not do. You may meet me if you wish. I will be at Bliss each night when the clock strikes nine, to hunt and feed. When I finish I retire to the shadows once again. If you come during these hours you shall find me.

                                                                                    Azrael

~Lifting the paper he held it lightly over one of the candle flames, slowly moving it back and forth so that the heat from the flame dried out the ink. Then it was folded and slipped into an envelope, sealed by blue wax. It would be set aside for the moment until he had finished with the text he was translated and then finally he would stand, stretching out the kinks from the long hours spent over the books. The letter would be taken up and placed in Bruno's hand with instructions to deliver it to the Hookah as soon as he was able. Then at last Azrael would break his weeklong fast and attempt to make his skeletal visage a bit more palatable.~