Standing rigidly in place, Silva kept his magical blast trained on the vampire the entire time. Even when she had gone, his dark expression did not change. Usually, he would feel an inner sense of smugness after having fended off such a powerful foe, but this was different. She did not leave because of him. In fact, he felt ignored.<br/><br/>“Grr,” he grunted. The orb of light in his palm shrank to the size of a golf ball, and then he closed his fist around it, extinguishing the magic. There was no one else around, none that he could sense, at least. With the vampire gone, he would now be able to have a word with this other mage.<br/><br/>Silva turned to fully face the stranger. He did not look that much older than Silva, in fact, and one never could tell who was a mage at first glance. Yet all the clues - his manner of speech, the calmness of his demeanor, and Silva’s inability to sense his illusion - all suggested that he probably was. And a high-ranking one, at that.<br/><br/>“Master,” began Silva, using the honorary title to show respect, as well as a humble bow of his hooded head. “I… I apologize for intruding on your operation. I mistook you for a mortal. I only meant to help.”<br/>Silva’s voice was quiet and haunted-sounding, a result of years traveling alone, combating the horrors of the night. He used a polite tone, but did not beg or plead for forgiveness. He did not know who this other mage was or who he was affiliated with, so Silva took care to be as neutral as possible.<br/>