I am a product of imitation.
My values, which were impressed upon me by my family and my tutors; my emotions, an act that I continue to allow to control me; my thoughts, based upon words by strangers, knowledge twisted at the whims of the author.
I am not real. So, what reason have I to continue the act, and what reason might I find to change? If I am to change, then I must wonder what it is that I am to change into.
For now, I will seek out these vampires that stalk the people of this city. I will trace a path through them to Aldramodore, the man who slayed me, and I will learn the reason for my death. I will stumble on, holding together the act and pretend to be the noble, the ideal, that I ought to be.
The vampires we seek intend to hunt down a local street gang that has been pressing their luck, expanding their territories beyond acceptable limits. They are making deals with lesser nobles and forming a faction that may even become represented in proper noble gatherings. Tomorrow evening, they will be having a rather large party at the estate of a particularly wealthy viscount. Reeve Lewark has found reason to suspect that the other vampires in this city will take this chance to attack them. In fact, the event seems to be set up as a direct challenge, so the reeve is not alone in his conclusions.
I am unsure if I should be glad to hear of nobles that care to leave their homes and acknowledge the streets and city beyond, or concerned about what they’ll do now that they’re paying attention. One line still hangs in my head as a warning.
‘The kindest noble is the one that forgets the rest of us exist’
So, what then might be presumed of those nobles who dare to consider the life of the common man and the city beyond their insular estates?
Nothing good.
“The reeve speaks well of you, I wasn’t sure what to think when he wanted to invite another with him, but I do owe the man and you seem quite interesting,” the woman before me, named Vael, will decide whether I enter the event with a kind welcome, or if I must find my own way.
Stealth is simply not acceptable. I control the darkness, and sometimes will act with subtlety, but I find my greatest strength when standing with pride and twisting the minds and perceptions of my foes. I do not wish to shame myself further by trying and failing to infiltrate a home as a lousy cut-throat.
“It is always a pleasure to be acquainted with those such as yourself,” I leave my steaming tea sitting on the table untouched, though, the scent drifting from it is strangely tempting.
“Someone such as myself?” she smiles warmly as she lifts her teacup higher. “Whatever could you mean by that?”
“Polite company,” I answer, though my eyes do drift to her inhuman features. Leathery wings spread from her back, darker than a moonless night, easily hidden when folded away, though she chooses not to do as such. Her tail, meanwhile, is quite unlike anything I’ve ever seen, much like a leather whip with a sharpened bone the shape of an arrowhead.
Besides those alien features, her hair is red as the brighter shades of blood, and her skin a shade darker than ought to be possible. It is an inhuman colour, almost as if the light itself refuses to acknowledge her existence.
She’s a demon.
I’ve heard word of her kind before. Unlike the beasts found across the great eastern mountain ranges, her sort has appeared all throughout history. They appear and disappear before they can be found, and are said to turn to mist upon death, as no scholar has ever recorded the corpse of one.
Others say that they simply cannot be killed.
“Your reaction is quite tame,” she pouts, whipping her tail about. “I usually get so much more passion and excitement.”
“I have experienced such things in this past fortnight that I do not think that there is a way to surprise me again,” I say pressing my lips together.
“Well, if you wanted my interest, you have it now,” Vael says, smirking as her pink eyes scan me up and down.
“Might we return to the topic at hand?” I ask.
“We may,” Vael nods. “Though there’s not much to say, is there? I will reach out to the right people and deliver the invitation to you.”
“It’s that easy?” I ask, scanning our surroundings. The multi-storied café is open in the evening, but unlike most of the rest of the city, it is not defined by a ruined state. It is reconstructed and entirely pleasant. What’s more, there are no desperate beggars on the street below us, only thugs walking around as if guardsmen.
There is no sign of an ambush, though it would make more sense to me if there were.
“It is almost that easy,” Vael stirs her tea. “Semi tells me good things about you, and with the reeves support as well, I wouldn’t dare to question you further. Such things will only distract on an evening that could otherwise be spent much more pleasantly.
“Which is where my ‘almost’ comes in,” she licks her lips. “I do believe that a favour should cost a favour. There is something I would like you to do for me, or perhaps it’s better said that there is something that I want to do with you.”
“What are you insinuating?” I try to repress my frustration. I had wanted this to simply be a professional meeting, over with fast, much like my meeting with Semi, one of the criminal lords of this city.
“Now, now, don’t frown.”
“I wasn’t frowning,” I say.
“Just because you aren’t moving your lips, doesn’t mean you aren’t frowning,” she leans closer placing her elbows on the table. “You haven’t tried your tea.”
This time I don’t disguise my frown.
She just smiles, her eyes shimmering playfully.
Resigned to keeping her happy, I take up the tea. The warm liquid rolls down my tongue, tingling wonderfully, before settling into my stomach where it boils hotter than a forge. My mind becomes frozen, trying to process the fires that spread within.
Blood.
My trembling hands nearly drop the teacup, as I war with myself, needing to drink more, but refusing to let myself be victim to such simple hungers.
Vael reaches out for me, quickly cupping my hand with her own to steady the drink.
“Is it good?” she asks, lifting it to my lips. When the taste of it reaches my tongue, I can no longer fight against the instincts that demand more.
Sweeter than pure sugar, like the sweetest blend of cruel potions, meant to tempt one into death. When the last of it burns a path down my frozen throat, I gaze at the stubborn droplets still staining the teacup, shivering with a wanting that a lady cannot pursue.
“Your sort are weak to blood freely given, no? I was told that it would settle the cruellest of vampires into cute little puppies.” Her whispers send shivers down my spine, but my mind is too frozen to know how to react. The bloody tea simply refuses to settle, something is different about it.
“You know about my condition?” I ask, shivering as I try to regain my demeanour. My fangs itch, as the last of the tea bubbles away in my veins. For all the overwhelming flavour, I’m left feeling hardly any stronger at all. Perhaps even a little weak in my knees for the battle I fought resisting my desires.
“You have some business that needs seeing to this evening?” she asks staring out over the streets, to allow me a moment to recover, though her smirk shows that she’s still watching, and satisfied with my reaction. “In return for getting you into the party, where you can have a family reunion with your unliving siblings, I simply wish to accompany you on this evening’s task. Your hunt, or whatever you call it. I want to watch.”
“Did Lewark tell you about it?” I ask, my thoughts hazy and slow.
“No, of course not. Half the fun with that man is figuring out his secrets,” she asks. “Do you know why he pursues the undead, for instance? I won’t spoil it for you if you don’t yet know.”
“How do you know about it?” I ask.
“It is my job to know,” she waves her hands out wide. “Well, something between a job and a hobby. Can a job be considered a hobby? If so, then I would describe it as thus. My employers certainly think that I’m dedicated, but that there is why it’s going to be so wonderful to watch it all collapse when I disappear at the perfectly worst moment.”
“Should you be sharing all of this with me?” I ask. “Even as intentionally vague as you’re keeping it, this sounds to be the sort of business that is best kept in silence.”
“You are right, which is why it is so much fun to simply share it aloud, where others might overhear,” she laughs, waving at the cheap silence barriers that keep our voices from spreading too far. “Besides, it is only you here, and if you want to share my secrets, then that would be a story in itself that I would just love to see.”
“You want to observe me, as I’m… having dinner?” I ask, recovering myself from my momentary loss.
“Yes,” her answer is simple. “Is it a deal? A favour for a favour? If it troubles you, I could ask for something else in return, or perhaps even leave the favour to be fulfilled later?”
“It’s fine,” I say, standing up.
The fact that she planted this blood in my tea before even speaking with me proves that she is well informed, though I cannot begrudge her for that.
The fact that she would bleed into a cup of tea, meanwhile, suggests that she’s not in any sense, an ordinary person. This assumption only becomes that much clearer as we ready to leave.
She folds up her wings, which fit neatly into her fancy dress, and pulls a light cloak around her shoulders, but that is not what brings me to a pause. She pulls from her pocket a set of ears. They are blood-red fox ears, too large to be from an animal and too life-like to be a simple imitation, but before I can be offended by the assumed nature of the accessory, something strange happens.
After placing them on her head, the ears flicker, as if alive. I blink, but they’re still there on her head indistinguishable from the ears of one of the norkit. They move about with life that they cannot possibly have.
Just to further mess with my head, she digs a drawstring back from her coat pocket, pinching some of the fine powder within and sprinkling it over her face. The dark-skinned demon fades away, and in her place, I see a pale girl with freckles, just a little too dark, scattered over her cheeks.
“You like my ears?” she asks, lowering her head and giving me a good view of them. I still can’t tell them apart from the real thing, just as I can’t see a spot of skin that isn’t repainted by the illusion she just cast. “I can have a set prepared for you if you’d like, but it might take some time to get them, and you’d owe me another favour for the future.”
“It would be inappropriate for me to refuse such a kind offer,” I reply, not wishing to offend and honestly quite curious about the magical creations. “Is there anything, in particular, you would like as a favour in return?”
She has offered me much, and I still don’t know her true intentions. Is it just some aspect of her people, or culture? Is this what demons are like?
I’m told that they tend to run off with people’s souls, and while I doubted it before, I’m not so sure anymore.
“I’ll find something you can do for me, or you can make an offer if you think of something I might like,” she nods happily as if she’s the one being promised rare magical goods. “Exchanging favours is great, isn’t it?”
“How do you mean?” I follow her along the street as she walks toward the building that she should not know about. I remain cautious, not merely of her, but of our surroundings at large. With her wings and tail hidden away and her skin now painted, it would be impossible to see her as anything but a rather strange norkit. The reason she has shown her true self to me is just another mystery.
Though… if she can wear the skin of a norkit, who is to say that she isn’t simply wearing the skin of a demon? Who is Vael, and what is she?
“Favours connect us, sometimes they’re a heavy burden that will force us into something we don’t like, but we still do it because we care. We have to care. We are all social creatures, aren’t we? It wounds us to betray the expectations placed upon us, so we do things that we do not want to for the sake of others.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“With favours like this, we tend to think about each other. We think of what might make the other person happy, what might resolve the ‘debt’ of favours, but no favour is ever actually equal and the ‘debt’ never disappears. The more of these exchanges we share, the deeper the bonds we form together. We are always searching to make the other person happier, and they us, a cycle that slowly develops into affection, building community.”
“An interesting perspective,” I say, nodding slowly as we walk the streets. The thugs who see us don’t dare to cause trouble, glancing only momentarily at Vael before continuing.
“How are you involved in this event?” I ask. “How are you involved with the vampires?”
“The event?” she asks, pinching her lips into a frown. “Those young men and women owe me, but it makes me glad that those favours are being exchanged for your sake. They’re not going to survive long no matter how tomorrow night works itself out. A sad affair, but all relationships eventually end.”
“You aren’t going to do anything?” I ask.
“I’m sending in you and the reeve,” she hops a step further ahead. “And I’ll be coming along with you to enjoy the show. I don’t intend to interfere, however. It wouldn’t be much fun if I were to become part of the show.”
“The show?” I frown again, but she just smiles wider.
“All of life is a show, you’ll discover it yourself in a century or two, young endless one,” she says, hopping along the street playfully. I check over my shoulder, but Therina isn’t with me today, as per Lewark’s advice.
“If I may ask, what do you know of my kind?” I ask. Though we tread down darker alleys, there is not one threat to be found here. It is what the ideal of a city should look like, and yet also something of terrible concern.
I do not think that the local beggars would have migrated of their own whims, nor is there even a chance that they have suddenly become able to afford lodgings.
“I can’t say much, beyond the fact that your kind are secretive,” she spins about as she skips ahead. “At least the ones that survive tend to be secretive.”
“I get the feeling that you know more than that.”
“Would you want to spoil the ending?” She tilts her head, her long red hair still drifting about. “This is your journey, Christina. To deliver the ending so soon would be unsatisfactory for you and your audience.”
“My audience, I do not recall an audience.”
“Me,” Vael says, waving to her own face. “I am your audience, but so are your servants. The reeve that you have befriended and all others around you. The answers I could give to you would be but rumours and ancient myths that don’t apply to the modern era. It would steer you down the wrong roads. No, I will not corrupt your story.”
“You think that my story is not already corrupted?” I ask.
“I have a feel for the fates,” Vael shakes her head. “There is much more ahead of you, should you not stumble and fall.”
“Another one…” I grumble thinking of Merry, the ugly priest with an unhealthy attachment to the concept of truth. This one at least does not burn me with her faith in the fates.
“Are you certain that you wish to join me on this hunt?” I ask, treading casually toward the home of the feast that Lewark has prepared for me. It is no proper hunt this night, he has grown less callous with me as time goes on, preparing my meals rather than directing me toward danger. Perhaps he’s becoming deceived into thinking that I am human.
“Of course!” Vael hops a step closer to me, draping her arm over my shoulder. “This is like a private show, who wouldn’t want to see and experience such a rare thing as this?”
“Whatever it is that motivates you is a rarer thing than you may believe,” I say, stepping up to the doorstep and into the ruins where the condemned prisoner awaits execution.
“Everyone is curious, Chrissy, most are just too afraid to pursue that curiosity.”
“What did you just call me?” I pause, looking at the demon dressed as another species.
“Chrissy,” she says. “Nicknames are an important bonding exercise, no?”
“Then, what should I call you, Vael?” I ask, catching sight of the bound criminal. It is an older lady, but Lewark already warned me that this was the case. She was the caretaker of an orphanage, but many of the children would disappear, the reeve was reluctant in saying anything more and I can only imagine the worst.
“Vael is my nickname,” she says, opening her cloak and placing it on a nearby coat stand. “My real name is… unpronounceable, let’s just say.”
Her serious tone gives more than a hint that she wishes me to let go of this line of thought. I have no reason to bother her on it.
“What are you- when did you change into that? Why did you change into that?!” I step back from her. Vael has at some point changed into something more casual, a shift that would be better suited for going to bed than something like this. Even at home, I would wear a nightgown should I have reason to leave my bedroom.
“Hmm?” she hums, tapping at her lips as she tilts her head, and considers me again. “I didn’t pick you for a prude.”
“I’m not a prude, but that…” It is much too revealing, and it is quite inappropriate for the situation that we find ourselves in. Belle might not have the same sensibilities as me, but she would at least treat this situation with the respect that it deserves.
“Just pretend that I’m not here,” she says, hovering over my shoulder and ignoring my discomfort. How can she bear to have her shoulders and thighs exposed like that? Doesn’t it feel unnerving to be left so open?
I shake the thoughts from my head, but her presence looming over my shoulder proves impossible to ignore. My victim this night does not make it any easier on me, her eyes dripping with tears and terror.
That is one thing that I’ve noticed the deeper I slip into this dark abyss. Murderers and villains are rarely ever true monsters, they will weep and plead for their lives when their time has come, just as anyone else. They justify their cruel actions in the way that a child might justify stealing a cookie from the kitchen. They are human, acting on unkind impulses does not erase that basic nature that makes us.
This old lady likely loves someone and is loved in return. There are, or were, goals that she had dreamed of achieving. Perhaps even some who relied upon her.
These things do not erase her cruel crimes, but the crimes cannot strip away the good either. All I am doing is stripping away her future, the good and the evil that she would have wrought upon this world. A choice I gladly make.
“Do you need help getting into the mood?” Vael asks, brushing by me to hover over the woman.
“It’s fine,” I say, flooding my eyes with æther and glaring down at my victim. She shudders and thrashes, her fear burning brighter than ever before. What would Belle think of me for this? What of Therina, or my other servants?
Would they see me as a villain better disposed of? Would they see me as something no different to the pitiful old woman before me?
“You seemed to like my blood,” Vael says, cutting her wrist with a nail that is far too sharp. The air instantly turns heavy with the taste of her sweet blood, lightning runs down my spine at the scent alone. I look upon her, my jaw working slowly and without my own will.
Vael slathers the old murderer’s neck with her spilt blood, like adding spice to a meal. My instincts control me, like a wild animal I dive upon my victim. I sink my teeth into her neck, gulping down her blood like a beggar drowning in cheap spirits.
It burns.
My veins boil, but I am left wanting. The slight hint of the demon’s blood seasoning her neck sends me into a frenzy that I can hardly control. My eyes glow with vampiric magic as I glare at her, wanting more.
She offered her blood freely, and I must respect her, but at once I desperately wish to bleed her dry.
I need more.
With the murderer dead and dry, I stumble off of the dead body, barely containing the desperate hunger wracking my undead flesh. Vael smiles warmly, stepping closer, her sheer clothes much too revealing, only stoking the flames that would consume me.
I step back, shaking my head.
“It’s okay,” Vael whispers, her dark skin returned, she glows with curious passions. “Just a little more, alright?”
She presses her hand to my lips, and I burn. My frozen insides contain a flame that runs in contradiction to my frost. Flickering fires come to life inside shining crystallised frost.
I want to let go of my dignity.
I want to be free to follow my simple animal desires.
I want to be.
I pull away. I cannot have this. I cannot allow myself this.
Licking at the sweet ichor that still stains my lips, I blink away the passions that had consumed my vision. Still, I cannot retreat from the temptation. The thrill that runs down my spine, is met with another that climbs up my legs.
I gasp, as something rubs up against my leg. I panic a moment, looking down to see that her tail slipped up and under my skirt. It winds up my calf, the hard bone grazing against my thigh.
I shudder at the touch, my knees failing me as I collapse into Vael’s waiting arms.
Her smile has turned cruel as her leathery tail pulls up my skirt. Her dark lips glisten with sweet blood, an invitation that could not be more tempting. She leans closer, leaving me to cross the final space between us.
“No,” I force the word out and step back though my legs nearly fail me. “No.”
“No?” she asks, my eyes not leaving the sweet blood staining her dark lips. “If it’s my femininity, I do have a few solutions to that.”
“I… I don’t want this,” I whisper, stepping further away from the demon, and leaning against the wall for support. “Not like this, not here.”
“It seems a fine time to me,” Vael says, extending her wings. “You’re practically glowing!”
“I just killed a woman, her warm corpse lies here as witness,” I say, unable to pull my eyes from the temptation that she has set before me. “This is a terrible place, a terrible time. This is not love. I do not want this!”
“Calm down, it’s fine,” Vael says, holding out her hands still glistening with blood. “I won’t do anything forceful, it just seemed like you wanted more. You were having fun, weren’t you?”
“We are not animals,” I say, straightening myself out, though my brain is still on fire. “If we follow every shallow temptation, then we will only ever be known for our cruelty and selfishness. I will not be like that.”
“Hmm?” Vael tilts her head and looks me over again. “Well, if you ever change your mind, you can consider me interested.”
“I… I will remember,” I say, evening my voice.
My thoughts are a mess, and I don’t know what to think.
I step outside for some cool air, leaving behind the corpse that will be burned away by the sunrise.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
How is it that a person can regret a choice that they are proud to have made? Rejecting Vaels uncouth advances was the right choice in every way. I do not think that pursuing passions over a corpse is in any way proper.
Yet, there is a part of me that wishes that I had said nothing and let it happen.
She wanted me.
Belle turned me away, she was disgusted by me, and she will always judge me for being a monster. The only reason she still shares any kindness with me is because of the person that I pretend to be, the person that I want to be.
Vael, however, would accept me for the cruel desires that consume me. The things that I had considered out of hand, things that I would never let myself do, seem more tempting in the knowledge that someone would still accept me afterwards.
I swallow down the passions that would rise once again, and stare down at the pages set out before me.
The skillbook offers judgment of a different sort, my magics reduced to a number and rank, vampiric and otherwise. It also judges all other things, but I have no care for the details of my knifework, it is sloppy, nor my ability to run, for it is not an ability that I feel a pressing need to train.
Vampiric æther vein quality: D+ Rank
~Improve quality by drinking blood from powerful intelligent beings
Magic:
Vampire’s Recovery: D- Rank
-Heal your own wounds or the wounds which you drink from.
-Enhanced speed of your healing.
Vampire’s Gaze: E+ Rank
-Intimidate and limitedly mind control a target.
Vampire’s Strength: D- Rank
-Express significantly greater physical strength.
-You temporarily gain the physical strength of your victim.
Manifest Shadows: F Rank
-Give shape to the shadows, and physically manifest them.
Illusion Magic: E Rank
-Make lies appear as if true.
-More complex and lasting magic is possible.
Unseen Transposition: F Rank
-When unobserved, trade places with another unseen space.
New magics available at vein rank C
Æther Vein Grading: D
Common veins: 34
Frost: C-
Dedicated veins: 53
-Summon the powers of frost, which slowly draws the heat from something in touch with you
-Invasive frost: Press compressed frost into a target within touching distance. It will linger for a time.
-New magics available at rank B
Fire: D
Dedicated veins: 28
-Summon flames and fire at your will
-Control the concentration and intensity of your flames
-New magics available at Rank C
Telekinesis: E+
Dedicated veins: 18
-Lift and push things at a distance.
-New magics available at Rank C
Light: E+
Dedicated veins: 15
-Summon a clear white light.
-New magics available at Rank D
The finer details are less useful and more distracting, but the general scope of it still interests me.
My frost magic may soon benefit me in a fight, though the measure of it is yet to be tested in reality. I must be careful not to overestimate myself. Especially with how lowly the rest of my mortal magics are.
“Reeve Lewark is here for you,” Sharre calls, standing guard by my door. He is as loyal as can be expected from someone seeking to leave when the opportunity arrives, so I bear with his imperfect manners.
“I’ll be right there.” Putting away the book, I tread carefully through the halls. A ghost, birthed by the clinging æther, is swiftly dispelled by a small flash of light as a maid dusts it away with the casual nature to be expected of her. A small smile lifts the edges of my lips at the sight of such professionalism.
Not all have adapted, but the ones who have are influencing the rest in a positive direction. Soon enough my staff will be ready to repel a vampiric invasion.
“Miss Greystone,” Lewark says, leaning on his cane.
Belle strides in through the doors behind him.
“Tina!” She hops in with a smile. I will forever nurse an affection for her warmth, though I can’t pursue it any longer.
“Belle, Reeve Lewark,” I address them each as I come down the stairs.
“I have prepared some things for the both of you,” Lewark addresses us both while taking something from his coat pockets. “I’ve brought you both into this fight, and I intend to have you return after.”
“I seek answers of my own, Lewark. All you have done is offer me a chance to seek those answers from my peers,” I say.
“Something I hope that I don’t come to regret,” Lewark says pressing a dagger into my hand.
“It is forged with frost æther channels through its spine and it’s better than what you had,” he explains. “It is for the times when your other strengths fail you, though it should work fine even when you are your terrifying self.”
“Thank you,” I bow my head and accept the gift. It is slightly heavier than my old dagger, but I’m sure that it will prove useful as I further train my frost magic. My old one could manage as much, but not nearly so well.”
“This is for you, Belle.” He hands her a small pin. “Keep this over your heart, but beneath your clothes. It will help you to see through illusions.”
“Thank you,” she says. “Also, I spoke with Merry about this, but he has something else that he’s busy with tonight and he can’t make it.”
“We do not need his support,” I say, though I know just how much power he would bring to this conflict. “Besides, there’s a chance that the vampires would refuse to show themselves if he’s with us.”
“Is he that powerful?” Belle asks, blinking at me.
“He spoils the mood,” I say. “Can you recall trying to eat while in the same room as my late uncle? It is something akin to that.”
Belle gags just at the memory.
“The carriage is ready,” I say, rushing them along. I have no want for the small talk that will likely crop up and would rather we stay focused on the task at hand. “We must discuss what our intents are here. Slaying the vampires is a likely outcome, but I wish for answers if there is a chance to pursue them.”
Henry opens the carriage door for me, and we both stand in shock at the freckle-faced redhead who bursts out from the inside.
“Chrissy, I’ve been waiting for you!” Vael cries.
Henry jumps back, going for his sword, but I stay his hand.
“Waiting for me in my carriage?” I consider interrogating her, but after a moment’s thought, I realize that I do not actually want to know.
“Well, yes,” Vael nods, her fake ears flapping about with sharp movements, perfectly imitating life. “Where else would I wait?”
“Lady Vael,” Reeve Lewark nods to her, climbing up into the carriage, as Belle follows in confusion.
“So, what nature of show have we planned for the evening?” Vael asks. “What treachery is afoot? Who will live, and who will die? What secrets will we learn, and what villainy will be uncovered?”
“Excuse me, who are you?” Belle asks.