“My Lady,” my head maid approaches with a letter and an uncomfortable expression. “I have a message for you, I would like to caution you that this person is of a rather dangerous nature, and you should be careful of any dealings with them.”
“What do you mean?” I ask, taking the letter from her and swiftly cutting the seal. Therina restrains her interest, simply standing by my side waiting for me to need anything.
“You know that my family was affected by murderers who the reeves could not touch,” she says. “In that time, I reached out to a number of powerful people who might have found justice in their stead. This ‘Semi’ was one such person.”
“I should be careful with them?” I ask.
“Very careful, my lady.”
“Thank you for the warning,” I say, letting her leave a step ahead of me. The letter is surprisingly light on details, referring to our common friend, Merry, and my quest for an ‘unusual breed of monster’.
“She requests a meeting,” I say. “Outside of my lands.”
I’m not sure if there’s much of a difference whether it’s my territory or not since my influence is purely a formality without any soldiers and knights to make it something real.
“Will you be going?” Therina asks.
“I will,” I say. “If this person can provide me with information, then it is worth the effort. Besides, it would serve me well to be better acquainted with the other important people in this city.”
This ‘Semi’ seems more an element of a criminal nature, but with my rather depressing experiences with the true nobles, and my faulty expectations of both commoners and slaves, it would be foolish to think I understand this person without first meeting them. I do doubt that they are of some perfectly heroic and kind nature, but at the same time perhaps they are not purely evil.
“I will prepare, the meeting is meant for this evening,” I say, standing and heading from the office back to my room. All the curtains of the house have been closed for my sake, and the lights are properly lit to allow the servants good sight.
Despite all the changes to this house, it still smells of blood. The walls are haunted by the spirits of those now passed, and they will remain in such a way until this house is burnt to its foundations.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“You are going out somewhere?” Reeve Lewark asks, standing in the foyer as he cleans his boots.
I’ve properly changed into a fine red dress that ought to suit me well enough, without being so low as to drag on the streets. I’m not entirely sure of the nature of the meeting spot with this ‘Semi’ criminal but I am planning for the worst.
“I have a meeting arranged,” I say. “Perhaps you might provide some insight and advice on the matter, but first, I suppose that there is a reason for you to have come here? Is there something you need of me?”
“Certainly,” he says, snapping the air around us to create a barrier of privacy. The cane he’s using today seems to be of a slightly different nature to the last time I saw him. “You’re not in any trouble, are you?”
He looks upon me as a father looks upon a troublesome child, expecting to have some trouble dropped at his feet.
“There is nothing so much,” I say. “Everything is moving along quite well now that uncle has passed. The servants and thugs have been serving me well, and I have no complaints.”
He hums thoughtfully, hiding his worries though I’m not sure I can quite imagine what he’s concerned about.
“Do you need to talk?” He asks, seeming rather awkward as he presses on. “After everything you’ve been through, you should take a moment to grieve for what you’ve lost.”
“Are you thinking yourself a father figure all of a sudden? I don’t quite understand the joke, I’m afraid,” I say, cautiously. “You should already be well aware that I’m not like you anymore. I don’t need to mourn what I’ve lost, I’m not a human, I’m a cold and cruel monster.”
“Right,” he shakes his head slightly but stands up a little taller before meeting my eyes. “Our experiments have born fruit.”
“Our experiments?” I ask.
I have been assisting him in the past week with trying to spread my curse to caged criminals. I had thought little of it, distracted with maintaining my newly recovered estate.
“We discovered a few things, for one, a critical weakness of your kind,” he says, drawing a small wooden stake from his coat. It’s been enchanted but only with very simple magics. With a few weeks of practice, I’m sure I could replicate the shape of it.
“Treat this carefully,” he says, handing it to me. There’s a certain energy bound to it. “This is from a fireblush tree, enchanted to inject fire magics from the sharpened tip. I’m sure you understand that with your darkened mana, this would prove quite lethal.”
I overlook the wooden stake, extra careful of the tip as it seems as if it might be terribly dangerous to accidentally prod myself with this.
“To a human, it would be nothing more than a terrible stab wound and a burn. Bad in itself, but to vampires like you?” he says. “It’s almost guaranteed death.
“It should be possible for a sword or arrow to be forged with similar effect. I even know of a few ancient relics that would seem to be made for such a purpose.”
“Terribly weak, aren’t I?” I ask, running a finger along the wooden stake. “That this is all it would take to end my existence? All it would take is the power of the light, a small show of bravery, and a sharpened stick.”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
“Exactly why most vampires don’t reveal their true nature, I suspect,” Reeve Lewark says, apparently deep in thought. “It makes you vulnerable.”
“It certainly does,” I say. “Is there anything more?”
“I have come across some leads, and I believe that your sire, the red-eyed man, frequents the noble courts. He may even be acquainted with the royalty,” Lewark says. “I suspect that your family were killed for a reason.”
“Yes, he was hungry.”
“More than that,” Lewark says. “I believe that it’s embroiled in politics. Your family was but an example to inspire fear among his allies in the noble court. It may be why you’ve been abandoned by your father’s allies.”
“Then…” I try to find an answer, but I don’t know nearly enough of the threats to weave together the whole story. What were father and his allies up to that made others so inspired to murder?
I don’t know enough… I suppose this is a good reason to re-join noble events.
Now I have a weapon and a lead.
Strangely though, while I want to pursue the answers behind all of this. I’m not so impassioned by revenge that I feel I must see him dead.
Justice certainly needs to be dealt, and a threat removed from my lands, but… that is all it is.
The terrible red eyes stare through the darkness, father has finally grown quiet, his blood now pooling in the bowl. Shadows hold down my arms, but even if they were not, I still would not run.
I shiver as I run a finger down the wooden spike.
It isn’t important.
“Reeve Lewark, I will be glad to continue this investigation of ours in the places that you cannot follow,” I say, meeting his eyes. “I will be sure to keep you informed of all that I find.”
“You can give this up,” Lewark says, leaning heavily on his cane. “It’s better for you to stay here and live your life, kid. Let old men like me deal with old monsters like him.”
“I do not think so, Reeve Lewark,” I say, sliding the wooden stake into the layers of my dress. Adjusting the belts on my dagger holds it in place, even if it’s not quite a perfect fit.
“Leave a monster to fight the monsters, and a noble to fight the nobles,” I say. “Besides, you’re a reeve, an investigator, not a mercenary. It was never your role to hunt the monsters of this world.”
“You’re still a kid,” Lewark says, his voice gravelly. “You need to take some time to deal with what you’ve been through.”
“Why are you so insistent?” I ask, walking by him and heading out to my carriage. “The girl you’re trying to save died weeks ago.”
A footman opens the carriage door for me, and Therina boards beside me. Sharre and a few other warriors walk outside, ready to guard me should the worst come.
The carriage bounces along the road, clearing a path through the slower traffic of early night. There are few who would dare to slow us, and we are given way for the whole trip. I gaze out through the window, but brief glimpses of the world outside only remind me of my childhood ignorance.
The destination is something quite different from what I’d anticipated. The building is more than just fine, it’s a seven-story tall establishment of stunning white stone, illuminated by magical constructs.
The guards seem both proper and intimidating, keeping the rabble from entering at their own leisure, but that’s not to say that it’s a noble establishment. No, it’s more targeting the merchant class, the successful craftsmen, and the higher-ranked guards and reeves.
“This is…” Therina looks doubtfully between me and the establishment.
“A den of wanton desire?” I ask, shaking my head in disgust as I step out of the carriage. “I’ll be careful.”
The guards quickly take notice of me and a man in fine livery swiftly comes down to greet me.
“Miss Greystone, we were expecting you. Follow me, if you please,” he bows formally before leading me through the open doors and into the large building.
The dancers on stage are all rather scandalously dressed, making quite the show for an overeager audience. It’s a surprise, an unpleasant one, to see that the show is comprised of both men and women. I shiver at the sight, unsure how I should respond to the sight, but keeping my expression cool.
The second floor is quieter, the crowd a little more refined, and the dancers slower and more deliberate with each movement. Already one young woman is trying to draw in my attention with the waving of her arms.
A house of pure degeneracy.
The servant leads me to a woman in her mid-thirties, her body refined to a work of art with clear work and intent invested into it. I can see no visible æther veins on her, but I wouldn’t expect to.
“You know of the monster that I’m hunting?” I ask the tall woman, unable to quite place what she is even as I take the seat opposite her.
She has the bearing of a warrior, ready to fight should the moment demand it.
She has the grace of a noble on the dancefloor, never showing the crowd anything but a clear and confident smile.
She wears simple clothing, weathered leathers, that would not stand out from the commoners but wouldn’t outright offend nobles.
Her eyes, however, give an answer where the rest of her only confuses. The look that she gives me, and the way in which she sees the world around her; it gives her away.
She is a monster, likely not of the same cursed breed as I, but certainly of the same cruel nature.
“I know enough,” she replies. “Perhaps I might even be willing to share it, but first I think we would do well to come to understand one another.”
“Oh?” I ask, whispering quiet enough that others do not overhear. “To give a true showing of both of our natures, we would need some nature of prey.”
“If you’re so willing, I’m sure that I can have a meal prepared for you,” Semi replies, her lips curling upwards in a smug smirk.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to refuse,” I say. “I am rather particular about my meals.”
Most importantly, I find it important to feast only on the deserving. I suspect that Semi has no such qualms, or at least, I cannot be sure just yet.
We’re seated in a small alcove where we mightn’t be overheard, but still, the dancers are clear in sight. The nature of this place cannot be misunderstood, and most challenging of all is all the distant noises from the upper floors where it seems that the dancing becomes somewhat more intimate.
“I already know you, Christina Greystone,” Semi says, sipping at a tall glass of wine. “I wanted for you to know me. It is difficult for deals to come to proper fruition when partners do not know what to expect of each other.”
“So, you want me to get to know you?” I ask, resting my hands on my lap and trying to ignore all the suggestable noises in the periphery.
“Perhaps it would be best if you could understand the city as I see it,” she says. “Let me start with a short little tale of mine.
“It is a story about one of the last dragons,” Semi says, smiling a cruel smile. “He rested on a pile of gold and riches at the edge of a small town. He even considered himself their ruler, their supreme lord, and anyone who would not bow would be turned to ash by the dragon’s fire.”
The dancers continue to move about in entrancing movements, drawing the eyes of the audience as they please. It is entirely uncivil, and wrong, but the pleasure in their eyes as they dance seems to me as no lie. They are enjoying this, playing with the audience.
Most of those forced into this work show none of the same positive passions.
“The people of the town bowed to the dragon, they would bring riches to the dragon’s mound and every so often they would give sacrifices. Sometimes livestock, sometimes young men or women, are granted to the dragon to satisfy its hunger.
“Yet the dragon did not tell them how to live. The dragon did not tell them what lands to build on, where to put the farms, or what to do when two smiths feud and argue. When an army came to steal from the town, the dragon was uninterested in saving the town and left it to burn.
“Would you say that the dragon rules the town?”
“No,” I whisper. “No, the dragon would be but a dangerous beast. The townspeople would rule themselves, those who decide who to sacrifice, or where to build, or how to settle feuds and crimes.”
“Precisely,” Semi says, smiling at me and turning her eyes to the castle that stands over the rest of the city. “So, little dragonling, I know that you pursue vengeance, but I’m more interested in another question. Have you come here to learn how to genuinely rule over men and women?”