In the dead of the night, a solitary figure slowly descended from the clouds over a quaint little inn. The man appeared to be standing in the air itself. Slowly descending to a nearby window, he peered in. Within were two familiar figures resting on a single bed. Only one of them, the female, appeared to be hovering slightly in the air, while the younger male slept soundly.

The figure outside frowned, withdrawing a worn journal from thin air. He flicked through the pages, settling on one titled skin rune experiments. Only a few paragraphs and two sketched diagrams sparsely covered the page. Withdrawing a ballpoint pen, he jotted down a few notes while mumbling the words.

“Need to account for trace mana infusion, triggering the activation procedure. The mana-enriched environment can trigger dormant runes without the users' notice.”

Closing the book, the implements soon vanished, leaving the figure empty handed. Once done, the figure dropped his cowl, revealing himself to be Al. Exposing his right forearm, he began caressing a glowing tattoo. Moving it like a volume dial, the floating girl, revealed to be Joan, slowly descended.

Nodding, he cast his gaze across the room and noted something was amiss. A third figure was absent. His undead test subject was gone. He wondered if someone sent him to scout the area, but considering the abundance of walking jolly meals, he doubted that.

Thinking it over, he pondered his next move. They needed to leave as soon as possible. Aresla was the next stop, and they could meet up with their former companions. Assuming James and Sally were still alive. But leaving a roaming Nosferatu running around was not wise. Deciding, he descended to the ground and made his way into the inn.

After an exchange of some stolen coins, the greedy receptionist let me pass. Someone can likely buy his blindness to certain criminal activities. Al thought of cursing the man but recalled his unstable magic and suspected any curse he performed might make him implode. Since he didn’t deserve to expand like a balloon, he left the man alone. Perhaps he will piss someone off and get a knife in the shoulder.

Making his way inside, he ascended the stairs and passed several rooms, reaching a select one. Knocking on the door with two stiff taps, he waited for a response. The sound of grunts and someone falling off the bed soon followed. Footsteps proceeded, the door being opened a crack and the face of Joan came into view. She was tired, with sleep in her eyes, and lethargic.

“You look like crap,” Al commented.

“I feel like crap. I have never felt this before.” Jo replied, rubbing her eyes.

“It’s normal, those runes require a lot of energy to power and using them freely is quite an expenditure on the body.”

“I wish you would have told me that before.” She harrumphed, letting him inside the room.

“You didn’t ask.”

Upon entering, the door shut behind him and the appearance of a rousing teenager vampire was slowly sitting up. Al examined the room, waiting for either of them to figure it out. Despite the silence and the two being wide awake, they hadn't commented on a certain absence.

“Missing something?” Al prodded.

The two looked perplexed before Felix rubbed his eyes, taking the room into focus. His eyes bulged upon the pure realisation.

“Alek is missing!” He all but yelled.

“Ding, ding, ding give the man a million dollars.”

The pair turned to him, confused and not getting the reference.

“Ignore that. We need to go. This place is shady as hell. We are behind schedule and a vampire is on the loose.” He said finally, wiping the siblings into gear.

What followed was a frantic gathering of their meagre possessions and the elder sister helping the younger brother get his shirt on. Once ready, the trio escaped the confines of the inn and made their way outside. The sun had yet to rise, and it was still quite dark. They moved through the town, past the domestic district, and into the market area. It was early and everyone was setting up shops.

Folded tables and barrels displayed various items across the scenery. Merchants sold wine, textiles, and magic items at hopefully reasonable prices. Al wanted to browse these items, but a particular merchant was what he searched for. The sight of several leashed horses was the sight he wanted to see.

“Hail traveller, do you wish to peruse my humble wares?” The merchant emphasised.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

The man was in his late thirties and wore something similar to a burqa, except without a face concealed. The attire was an odd one. Al had not seen it like in this world. A cursory glance around, he noticed only a few had such attire. Perhaps they were fellow associates or foreigners from some arid domain.

“Hail, a fine day it is to do so. But first, I must compliment you on your attire. It is quite exotic.” Al spoke with a joyful tone and a positive attitude.

"You have refined tastes in clothing. My homeland, known for fine textiles, produces this pure Teskarmirian silk."

“And what fine cloth, indeed. I have heard of your homeland. Is it true those not of human blood dwell there?” Al asked in a hushed whisper.

The merchant frowned. His expression cycled through several degrees of worry, before adjusting himself. Giving a wide brim smile, meant to put all at ease.

“That is true. Teskamir accepts all within its walls, man and beast alike.”

“How progressive. I admit I lack such a worldly experience. Never left the Empire. Would you tell me of your home while I peruse your stock?”

“Of course, mister?” Smiling, he inquired about his customer's name.

“My name is Al; this is Felix and his sister Joan.” He introduced.

“It is a pleasure to meet you both.” He nodded, directing the trio.

He spoke at length about his homeland. The city-state of Teskamir was located to the southeast of Tarkon. Independent from both the kingdom and the federation. They maintained nominally friendly relations with both sides. Trade was their value and two nations hostile to each other needed their goods.

Because of this cooperative attitude, they had a diverse population. Composed of immigrant humans and several beast-kin races. As expected, they built their city in a desert and he wore standard attire. They called it the Hanzi. The female equivalent was the Hanzinesh, which was considerably more decorative.

It was not uncommon for men and women to decorate their Hanzina, with the colours of their clan. His decorations were plain stripes in the blue and grey. This denoted clan fewer individuals, most of such peoples were nomads or refugees.

Despite how interesting this was, the two had other pressing concerns. They haggled for a good ten minutes before they settled on thirty silvers for three horses. They weren't fine specimens but would do for the journey. The three mounted their horses, Al on one and the siblings on the other two. Because Felix had little riding experience, his sister leashed his horse to hers.

They left the town soon after, following Felix's direction. The young vampire claimed he could sense his progeny. It was not perfect, merely a direction and a vague notion of distance. They followed behind their little bloodhound as he led them further from civilisation. Down a dirt road, into a spacious woodland and through a concealed path. It didn’t take long for them to find the most likely location of their wayward vampire. And in typical fashion, akin to Dracula, they found a decrepit castle.

“Did we step out of high fantasy and enter the horror genre?” Al commented, one brow raised.

“Genre?” Felix asked, perplexed.

“Never mind, but looks like your progeny is going full, Dracula. Perhaps we should call him Aleksander Tepes.”

The siblings just looked at each other, trying to discern from each other the nonsense he had spouted. They had long since ignored the strange words he uttered. None of it made sense, even when he explained it. His words raised more questions than they answered.

Al noticed this and promptly shut up. He had other interests currently, mostly in the giant Transylvanian castle before them. The place was modestly large and haunting to anyone that viewed it. The castle possessed a gothic structure, featuring imposing architecture such as pointed arches and ancient black stone walls. He had expected towering spires, but there was still a layer of practicality. Having a general vampiric theme, it was still had battlements and crenelations atop the wall. Though not too difficult to climb with a ladder.

“Cheery place. Are you sure he is in here? It’s stereotypical for a vampire to just find some dark castle.”

“Yes, he is in there. I can feel him, if that makes sense.” Felix tried to explain, frowning.

"Far be it from me to deny your psychic progeny connection."

“Do we knock?” Joan interjected, eyeing the giant wooden gate.

“Why not, its polite.” Al answered.

Deciding on the next course of action, they approached cautiously. The three stood before the gate, and Al was the first to knock. He hit the wood as hard as he could, trying to send the sound as far out as possible. He wasn’t sure if there were folks whose job was door minding.

They waited for a few minutes and were just about to knock again when the gate opened slightly. It creaked loudly just as a face appeared. It was gaunt and pale, looking to be a dead man that got up and answered the door. Ignoring his obviously dead-like appearance, he seemed to be a young man wearing gambeson armour. He looked to be a young bandit or a wide-eyed soldier, ready to have his smile wiped away by the horrors of war.

Instead of words or a simple who are you, the dead man grunted. He looked entirely perplexed, not just with the visitors, but also with what to do now. The shuffling prompted the dead doorman to glance back.

“Belus, you stupid oaf, stop scaring potential guests. Shoo, away with you.” The voice of a woman intoned.

Following her chastising, the undead fellow vacated with a grunt and a few slow steps. What replaced him was a middle-aged woman in a grey dress. She had tanned skin and brown hair; she seemed like the typical village woman, at odds with the whole castle situation.

“Greetings, welcome to castle Valkenhan. If you were just wandering by, we can accommodate weary travellers. If you are bandits looking to raid, I would suggest fleeing for your lives.” She paused for a moment, letting the threat hang in the air.

"We are not bandits. We are here to see a friend who is about this tall, has pale skin, and might be covered in red, but I can assure you that's just paint."

The woman squinted her eyes, not really getting the stranger's humour. Suspicion and caution were at the top of her emotional pyramid. She was likely weighing the efficacy of slamming the gate on them. But in the end, she let the trio in, likely because it was freezing outside. She seemed to have a soft spot for the two minors.

“Come on in, it's freezing outside. But you, I will be watching you.” She stated firmly, her finger planted directly at the object of her caution.