With his goal now solidified, he bailed on the room. He found his companions waiting in the hall. Felix looked worried. Joan was casing the exits and Alek was the aloof vampire. “Now that we have the band back together. What do you say we blow this joint?” Al spoke, using idioms that went over their medieval heads. “Nevermind, I mean let's vacate Helgos and make our way north. Things are getting heated around here.” Everybody agreed and so they made their way to the exit.

“What about Sally and James? Where are they?” Joan asked.

“I don’t know. They said they were going out on business, but other than that, they didn’t explain.” Al explained. The group looked grim. The concept of their friends getting hurt during the riot weighed heavily on them. “Don’t worry, we will catch up to them somehow.” He assured, trying to lift their spirits.

With everyone ready, Alek sufficiently covered from head to toe, they made their way to the main area. The inn was a buzz with patrons. They were all huddled in groups. Some were yelling, and others looked around, concerned. It was clear they had realised the situation. Before Al could even set foot on the wooden floor. Something smashed its way through the front door. All that remained were wooden splinters and a hefty repair bill. That and the corpse which had just been disposed of, through the door.

Pandemonium abruptly broke out as it became clear living in this kingdom is a problem. Not just because a riot is going on, it was the fact that have the patrons were wizards. He could see floating fireballs, electrical discharges, ethereal daggers and odd magic he had never seen before. They were all directing their ire at the exit.

Before they knew it, a figure entered. He was not subtle, bursting through the shattered doorway and a holding a burning flag. It was clearly the flag of the empire, and he was waving it around proudly. “Down with the empire!” He screamed.

A flurry of magic spells flew towards him, quickly extinguishing his burning flag. Fireballs, lightning bolts, magic arrows, some sort of acid javelin. They burned and sliced the man to death, sending him flying out of the establishment. The patrons then let out a loud cheer, celebrating, annihilating a single flag burner.

Deciding these people were a tad nuts, Al suggested they slick away out the backdoor. He got not a single voice in opposition. Eventually, they made their way and exited the inn to a back alley. There was no one in sight and so Al outlined the plan.

“We will head to the eastern gate. Hopefully, the gate guards will allow us to pass. With the way they are rioting, there will probably be a massive line. Regardless, we will think up an idea when we are there, ok?” He explained, getting more nods of approval.

With his group all on board, they slowly made their way through the alleyway. Reaching the end, they found a deserted street and quickly crossed. They moved through around three different alleyways before encountering life. It was not the reasonable kind. They looked to be a gang of thugs taking advantage of the riots.

About six men surrounded a seventh man. This fellow was not alone and was pressing a woman against the wall. The woman struggled under the man's weight as he tore strips off her clothes off. The group egging him on, with suggestions to cut or hit her. It was clear what was going on and just before Al could turn the rapists into mincemeat, a rock sailed past.

Joan had picked up a rock and threw it accurately at the rapist. Hitting him squarely in the back, the rock landed centre mass. He jerked in pain, vocalising his displeasure before tripping over his pants and landing face first. The woman took this chance to bolt in the other direction. The rest of the gang whoever turned their glares at the one that threw the rock.

They were not pleased and the one that was hit lifted his head, muttered bitch and manifested a flying dagger. The strange-looking weapon appeared out of thin air and sailed towards Joan. Raising his hands in defence, Al manifested a wind barrier. Instead of deflecting the weapon, it went right on through, planting in her chest.

It all happened in a moment. What followed was not pleasant. “Wizards everywhere. They really need to regulate this place!” Al shouted, reaching out to claim the man's life.

Stretching his palm forward, a tendril of wind reached out. Wrapping around the man’s neck, he jerked the leash, pulling him forth. The tendril of wind swiftly ripped him from the ground and jerked him into a close range. Manifesting a dagger of wind, Al stabbed the hovering man in the chest, piercing his heart. Falling limp, he released him, dead as a doornail.

His associates didn’t take that well. Each of them drew steel. While two of them manifested glowing daggers. While they all got ready to rumble, the loud wail of a brother echoed all around. Before Al could even do anything, Alek jumped into action. With the cloud cover and the shadow from the building. He needn't fear the power of the sun and so he moved faster than the eye. Arriving within the range of the cutthroats, the two wizards launched their daggers.

Piercing undead flesh, Alek was neither deterred nor harmed. Bowling into their ranks, he slashed with his claws, eliminating the two men in an instant. The weapons he called hands shredded throats, arms, torso.

Not being idle, Al sent a wind blade, slicing the two wannabe wizards in half. The last remaining bandit raised his sword, shivering in fear. Instead of being torn to shreds, Alek merely stared at the ground. Picking up one sword and getting lost in the blade's reflection. In that moment, he saw visions in the blade, camps on fire, blood in the street. Visions of horror plagued him in that single moment.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Trying to capitalise on the lull in battle. The cutthroat slashed with his sword; the action awakening something instinctual in the vampire. Instead of reacting like a beast, another instinct emerged. Performing an upward parry, he diverted his enemy's blade before leaning into a riposte. The attack looked practised yet rigid. Neither of that mattered, as he cleanly cut the enemy.

His death was certain, yet Alek continued his advance, thrusting his blade into the man's chest, pinning him to the wall. His vision shifted away from reality. The cutthroat's face was replaced by an elderly man. Instead of a dark alleyway, his surroundings were a burning cabin. Confused, the vampire looked around and saw that someone had ransacked the place, breaking chairs and tables. The state of the cabin was not what drew his attention. It was the young woman, no older than fifteen, crying over a corpse. With tears in her eyes and wailing, she could hear the sounds of hearty laughter in the distance.

Looking deeply into her eyes, he saw only misery and hatred. She aimed this hatred at him, the man who took away everything she loved. She asked why and he couldn’t answer. He didn’t know how to speak or think clearly. He served his creator. That was all he knew. Yet there were other things, buried deep, that he could not ignore.

Slowly, the vision faded and reality set in. He was standing before a corpse, pinned to the wall, blade in his hand. He didn’t know what to do, nor how to articulate what he felt. There wasn’t enough within for him to express himself, so he leaned into the only instinct that made sense... Hunger. Fangs descended, a throat was in reach, the rest was merely a blur of blood.

While Alek was clearly working through some stuff. Al tended to his wounded companion. Felix was beside himself with tears and worry. In a second, the powerful day walking vampire turned into a scared boy. “Family is truly our greatest weakness.” Al muttered. “Then again, what else can we fight for?” He added, getting all sentimental over here.

Shifting his gaze to the panting Joan, it was clear her injuries were severe. The blade pierced her stomach, and she likely didn’t have long. Felix pleaded with Al to aid her, yet he wasn’t that skilled in healing others.

“You must do something! A spell or a potion!” He demanded.

Al thought over the situation and realised he should have got some potions from James. He mentally kicked himself for not being able to heal her, especially since this was the second time she got injured. He decided on a drastic move.

“Felix, I have an idea that may save her.” He declared, pulling the boy out of his fear.

Felix nodded for him to act, and he did so. Withdrawing his enchanted glasses, he examined Joan magically. “Damn, is everyone on this planet got mana circuits? High magic indeed.” He muttered. Putting back his glasses, he withdrew a ballpoint pen. “Hold her Felix, this will hurt.” Directing Felix to grab her arms, Al isolated her right shoulder.

Pressing the pen against flesh, a soft light shone from the tip. Burning flesh and prompting Joan to struggle. The pain of the dagger and now the pain of a searing pen intermingled into a new cacophony of suffering. Felix, however, didn’t give in to the urging to stop. He trusted that whatever Al was doing was for his sister's benefit.

Al began drawing a simple diagram into the skin. Branding her shoulder with a diagram like his own healing rune. It was not exact and had some minor variations. He had come up with an idea he was reticent to test. Creating new runes with a complex mana regulation sub-spell. It was an idea that he was applying to a living host.

The act was dangerous, insane on Matesh. But with this world high magical field, these people could take it. Finishing the brand, he swiftly returned the pen and forewarned Felix of what happens next. With a nod from the brother, Al pulled the ghostly blade from her stomach. Despite being transparent and its conjurer dead, it was oddly solid. Shelving experiments for later, he commanded Felix to compress his hands to the wound, stopping the blood flow.

Once he restricted her wound, he placed his palm on the rune. It shone with an ethereal light, spreading to cover her entire body, bathing her in healing energy. Every part touched experienced a shudder of energy and rejuvenation. The blood flow from her wound stopped, and the skin closed. Her body healed in seconds, her ragged breathing replaced by a soft breath.

She opened her eyes, believing for a second, she died. Instead of reaching for whatever afterlife she believed in. Instead, she was face to face with her crying brother.

“Congrats Jo, you are the second person to survive flesh runes.” Al stated proudly.

The siblings embraced, taking a moment for themselves. Al left them alone; he had a vampire to look over. Alek sat against the wall, his sword by his side, blood dripping from his lips. Leaning down, Al pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. Dabbing away some of the blood, Alek remained still, letting him do his work.

“Don’t sweat it, my man. The bastards deserved a good killing.” He reassured, noticing the vampire's expression.

For a vampire who had just gone bestial on a bunch of thugs. He looked positively horrified by the act. Al had an inclining what was wrong.

“What am I?” Alek muttered, his words were ill formed, like a child barely capable of speech.

“That’s a good question, I guess you are starting to remember stuff.” He replied. “Well, you are a vampire my friend and a deadly one at that.” He said gesturing to the corpses.

He could have let him down slowly, but the corpses were far too obvious to ignore.

“Vampire?” Alek mouthed. “Monster.” He added.

Shaking his head, Al quickly dissuaded him of that notion. “Monster is a matter of perspective. You don’t need to sweat the details. Now come along, we got to bounce.” He declared, putting his hand out.

The two stood up, Al putting his hood back on and doing his best to clean the blood. After robbing the corpse of their meagre cash. The group continued their journey, making their way closer to the eastern gate. The sound of the riots, explosions and general mayhem were not too far off.

With the group making haste, Al noticed how Joan was keeping pace and exceeding her fellow members. She seemed to possess an abnormal amount of stamina and vitality. This would not be unusual after a recent healing, but that should have worn off by now. They had had ran for half an hour; such spells don’t linger for that long.

She appeared joyful, energetic, like she could run without exhaustion. This did not matter currently, they needed to run and run they did. Making their way through the many alleyways, they are finally stopped by the sound of voices. Aligning themselves against the wall, Al peaked out into the street. The way was blocked, a mass of fleeing citizens was crowding the gate.

Shouting and yelling, the mass of scared people raged against the guards, like a zombie swarm. Clearly escape through the gate was not a valid option, that was until something else happened. On the other side of the street, another swarm was incoming. These were not average citizens, they were rioters. Chanting their mantra as they approached with burnt flags and raised weapons.

“Down with the empire!” They chanted.

Their footsteps and chanting alerted the less violent citizens, and they stared down each other.

“It's like the LA Riots on steroids up in this city.” Al cursed, now between a rock and a hard place.