Al shrugged, his hands up and at his sides as he stepped through the door. Entering, they found themselves in a small courtyard after exiting the battlements. The area was sparse, with several figures moving around. Four women were leading around two pale figures as their personal labour force. The men seemed like walking corpses, slow but strong enough to haul giant crates. Wearing brown tunics, they looked like prisoners raised from the dead by a necromancer.

“How is the inventory going Lucinda?” their guide asked the redhead.

“Not great. These idiots seem to have prioritised booze over basic provisions.”

“Why am I not surprised? Still, get it all catalogued. Perhaps we can sell them?”

The two women seemed exasperated, as if this was a common occurrence. The trio continued, passing by the undead workers and their female overlords. Passing through the courtyard, they entered an internal building, then proceeded down a stone hallway into a throne room. The place was a mess. Someone with no artistic talent painted the room red.

The castle's occupants were cleaning up the mess. The occupants saw traces of bloodstains spanning the entire room. Streaks of blood being slowly washed with damp clothes and buckets of water. Two women and four men were cleaning from the centre outwards. With ease, two pale figures moved the massive table aside.

“It looks like your kid has multiplied.” Al commented, lifting his chin to the three pales figures.

They were clearly vampires and had that same dull look on their faces. They appeared just like Alek was, having no memory or will of their own. This was the same for them all, except for one. A familiar vampire was on his hands and knees, cleaning a corner of the room. Prompted by Al’s voice, his head perked up.

Gesturing to one of his fellow undead, he passed the cleaning duties off. Turning to face the trio, he slightly startled them. Aleksander, named by them and reborn into a state akin to an adult toddler, was strutting confidently towards them. The gleam of intelligence was in his eye, along with a slight smile. Arriving before them, his gaze cast between them, settling on Felix. He bowed deeply to the young man, flustering the teenager to no end.

“Father, it is good to see you.” He said, confounding their guide.

The woman shifted back and forth between the young man and the adult. Her mind churning to figure out precisely how a younger man could be an elder's father. Alek noted this and quickly interjected.

“I know it’s confusing, Sandra.” Alek stated.

“It's a bit of a long story. I will go into it later. For now, I will receive our guests in the office room.”

Sandra wanted to inquire further; curiosity was obvious to anyone with sense. Instead, she nodded and lead them quietly out of the throne room, down a hall and into a new room. It was obviously some sort of study, likely used by someone of high station. On the opposite side was a wooden desk and chair, in the centre two lounges set across from each other.

The four seated themselves, the siblings on the left lounge, Alek and Al on the right. Silence descended for a moment before Sandra spoke up.

“Would any of you like some tea?”

The siblings shook their head in the negative, Al graciously accepted the offer. Alek, however, frowned, clearly perplexed about something.

“Where did we get tea? Last I checked, the inventory was mostly rations and alcohol.” He asked.

“Some girls went foraging this morning. Samantha is quite knowledge on the subject.” She answered with a demure smile.

Nodding, she left the room to give the foursome privacy. Silence descended again before Felix spoke up. Alek, who tried speaking as well, leading to a back and forth of pleasantries, stopped him. In the end, Alek began, looking far too nervous for a middle-aged man to be.

“I just want to say that I am sorry for attacking you. Currently, I'm still figuring out who I am now, as I wasn't a good man back then. I just wanted to get that out before anything else.” He paused after pouting out his heart, glancing from side to side, gauging their response.

Al and Joan were frowning, both for indiscernible reasons. Felix, however, was visibly nervous; his hands were fidgeting.

“It’s okay, Alek. I know you are sorry. I can't explain how, but I feel you are sincere.” Felix reassured the man, trying for a smile and not quite getting it.

His words made Alek brighten; He deflated soon after, inspecting the two others in the room. Specifically, Joan, the sister of the boy he tried to kill. He could sense that the apology barely moved her and would always suspect him.

“You remember who you are?” Al interjected, eager to learn for a very different reason.

“Yes, I remember, but honestly, I would prefer to forget. But that would be cowardice. A man shouldn’t hide from the truth.”

“You're talking much better now. That’s great. I was worried you would be stuck unable to communicate. I don’t know what I would do if that happened,” Felix added, deflating slightly. The notion was something he feared for a while.

The two vampires smiled solemnly as an unspoken connection kept them from tumbling into despair from all the what ifs.

“Why did you leave?” Joan interjected rather forcefully.

The three turned to regard her, noting she was not exactly angry. She was concerned, or perhaps a little hurt. Despite seeing Alek as a threat, she could not deny the attachment of her brother had to him. Alek paused, gathering his thoughts, and began recounting last night's events.

He explained how he encountered members of his old gang. They took him to this fortification, assuming he had fled a failed bounty. To cheer him up, they brought him to the dungeons, where he encountered the imprisoned women. Knowing this was wrong, he tried to rescue them. In the ensuing struggle, he bit and killed a few of his former gang.

His captors soon captured, tortured, and interrogated him. He escaped, but only when the dead rose. The men he had sunk his fangs in, rose from their graves as Nosferatu. They started attacking the other bandits, killing and turning as they went. This ended with a tumultuous battle with his former leader, a turncoat paladin with a captured fire spirit.

His defeat left them with a few undead residents. Most of them were scum, sadistic killers that raided and pillaged. Four of them were not so much. They had risen as vampires, but they were logistical staff. Managing a bandit group of this size required those in less combat roles. The freed women largely spared these four because they fulfilled these purposes.

One of them was barely a man, being only seventeen of age and a slave. Despite the Empire's anti-slavery laws, criminals still practiced slavery. They sold Kal to the group only a month ago, and he was always kind to the women, never harming them. He would sneak them extra food or water, trying to do something good when surrounded by atrocities.

The other three were bandits, two of them were no good with a sword. Acting as managers of the equipment or cleaners. Thes two were former slaves, Ivar and Galik. The last, Tobias, was the bastard son of a rival gang. All three were in their early twenties and each ended up in the gang against their will.

Ivar and Galik were good men and kept their head down. Tobias was a bit more complicated. Initially, they wanted to kill him as they heard he raped one woman. He revealed he had claimed her to protect her from the others. The two were in love and had planned to flee whenever they got the chance.

Her name was Isla, and she broke down in tears, explaining this. Desperately trying to coax her deceased lover to remembrance. Tobias, like the other vampires, was completely absent of thought. They acted only on instinct or instructions from their creator. Alek tried to reassure the distraught Isla that her lover may yet return to her.

The story of how Tobias served the gang for the sake of Isla. Her protection was paramount to him and for her, he stained his hands with blood. He did not take part in every raid, but he was useful in keeping the absorbed bandits in check. The bandit group was once two rivals, Tobias was born of rape by the rival gang's leader. They killed his father by burning him alive, and they absorbed the survivors into a larger group. They kept Tobias as their spiritual leader.

“We kept the others in prison cells. Bleeding them to keep them weak, it seems to work in the event my control over them lessens. Getting the four blood has been tricky. We have determined that animal blood works. The women are working to set up this castle as a home for now. Most have nothing to return to. But a few will leave in a few days to find their old homes.” He explained after delivering quite the tale.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“Are you okay, Alek?” Felix asked, visibly disturbed by the story.

“I'm alright, you needn’t worry. I just wanted to ask.” He pauses, trying to summon up the courage to make a request of his creator.

“I will understand if you want me to return to your side. But I beg you to give me leave to stay and help these people.”

Felix was flabbergasted when he received the heartfelt request. Intellectually, he understood the value of his creation and deep down; he longed for him to return to his side. Still, he could see that the first vampire he created had a desire that would take him away.

“You should stay. These people need your help.” He agreed with some reluctance.

“Thank you. You don’t know what this means to me.”

The two agreed, both not really acting their ages. It was an odd sight for the two. Joan wanted to say something, but knew this was between her brother and the vampire he created. It was a bond she couldn’t wrap her head around. Still, she accepted it as a fact of life. Al really wanted some popcorn. This reminded him of a soap opera. Only the ages of the characters were reversed.

While watching the entertaining back and forth, Al’s eye caught on a peculiar set of armour. A stand held the strange gear, with a sword on a nearby rack. What drew his gaze was the faint pulse of magic. Of course, magic was everywhere in this world, but it was far too scattered for any old wizard to always see. It required tools and spells to truly see magic in all its intricate details.

This piece of attire radiated magic, but it wasn’t the typical. Magic, particularly high magic zones, were chaotic forces. Enchanted items had a faint trace of magic, only ancient artefacts of immense power were noticeable. All these instances had traces of chaotic forces. Someone refined this armour; it was orderly and a work of art, if not for its origins. He tried to think of a word and only came up with industrial.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, but may I have looked at that armour and sword?” Al inquired.

“Of course you can. It’s not actually mine. But since you asked, would you be able to help a friend of mine with a magic problem in exchange?”

Al nodded, accepting that a little too quickly. The armour captured solely his attention. Felix and Alek promptly left the room, the latter suggesting they walk and talk, touring the castle. Al ignored them and hurried over to inspect his fresh interest. He hadn't noticed the tea arriving and being set on the table, nor the fact Joan was still in the room.

Pulling out his glasses, he examined the armour in more detail. What followed was his journal and a pen being pulled out of thin air and a lot of writing. Joan didn’t interrupt, which he appreciated, but her patience waned after two paragraphs.

“Can we talk about these tattoos?” She asked.

“Runes, not tattoos.” He answered, not lifting his head.

“Runes, whatever, we need to talk about them.”

Al paused his work, turned around to notice the utterly serious look on her face. Closing his journal, he rose to meet her. Noting the smoking tea on the table, he gestured her to sit. Once seated, he took a whiff and liked the aroma. It smelled like chamomile.

“Alright then, what's on your mind?”

“These runes are amazing. Is it possible to get more?” She said, switching from serious to giddy excitement.

While getting excited over magical abilities was not something he hadn't expected, her explosive joy was odd. Examining her with his magically inclined glasses, he figured out the problem. The healing rune was a changed version of his own. Normally, the original gathered power over time until it reached a threshold. Stored the magical energy to be used later.

An analogy for this was slowly filling a barrel of water with a valve on the end. Once full, you can open the valve and release the water at your leisure. But in this high magic environment, the valve can’t take the water pressure and bursts under the slightest release. To counter this, he devised a changed rune that would slowly release the pressure.

It would be highly inefficient on low magic worlds, but here it was a necessity. Several valves enabled the rune's use, without overloading the spell, releasing magical pressure. The side effect he hadn't expected was the effect of leakage. The slow release of mana attuned to healing energy had an ongoing effect on the body.

It was a positive effect in a way, likely Joan would be the healthiest human right now. She wouldn’t have an exceptional healing factor, but she would be darn hard to kill. But as with life absent moderation, there are problems with too much of a good thing. Healing mana leaking at a constant rate conferred boundless energy upon her, like consistent doses of cocaine.

She stood waiting for Al to answer, like an addict jonesing for a fix. She hid it well when around her brother. But now it was on display for all to see. He wondered briefly if that would happen to him. He had been marking himself with rune magic for years now. Perhaps this high-magic environment had already addicted him.

“Hold up Jojo, two is enough. Adding a third to the mix could burn you out.”

“Aw come on, just one more. Can I shoot fireballs or lightning from my hands?” she asked excitedly asked.

“Those are some runes that can do that, but they are pretty advanced and liable to set you on fire or electrocute you to death.”

She visibly deflated at the answer, half disappointed, half worried. It doesn’t matter how good magic feels, the concept of death can hamper anyone's buzz.

“But come on, Jo, you already have cool rune powers. You can heal yourself and manipulate gravity.” He tried to reassure, sitting himself beside her.

“Yeah, but all I can do is heal scratches and levitate. What good is that?”

Tilting his head, Al realised he had made a mistake. In his defence, he lacked the time to properly educate her because he was in a hurry. Still, he should of at least given her a manual. He made a mental note to write up a manual on the rune operation.

“You haven't experimented with your rune’s?” He asked.

“What do you mean, experimented?”

“The runes are not one-trick spells; they are quite versatile, and their designers intended them to produce guided magical effects.”

Al neglected to mention they were prototypes, designed specifically to work in this world. Granting finer control over mana flow and the magical effects could cause problems. Thus, why he added the healing rune, just in case? His original design ran in low power worlds. Matesh was rather barren for magic, but it was there. So, he created runes that sucked up every scrap of power it could get its grubby hands on.

This was a major issue in high magic worlds such as this one. This new version didn’t grab every scrap of magic to power the spell. It only grabbed enough to facilitate the effect. Of course, this was not perfect and there was some leakage. It was terribly wasteful, in his opinion, but when magic was in abundance, he could afford it.

“Sit down with me and I will take you through a few visualisation techniques.”

She did so, and the two spoke for nearly an hour. He showed her methods to clear her mind, focus on singular tasks. A few breathing techniques and a general understanding of magic. She could at least increase and decrease the size of the gravity field.

While sitting in the lotus position, the two levitated. Al was using his wind magic while Joan produced a gravity field around her. Her rune was glowing brightly and slowly she increased the radius. Other items around them slowly ascended, orbiting the star that was Joan. The serene situation didn’t last. The objects soon started to vibrate and fling themselves in opposite directions. Al could guide them away from major bodily appendages, and the two stopped their training.

“Keep practising. You will be amazed at what you can do.” He said, leaving that farewell.

Quickly he returned to the armour, studying it more closely. He noted Joan leaving the room, likely to look for her brother. He was okay with it; Looking over his notes, refreshing his memory on what he had discovered.

So far, the armour seems to be composed of a very unfamiliar complex alloy. It could be of magical construction, except it seemed far too fine to be a custom job. It reminded him of a production line churning these things out by the thousands. What exactly that suggested was a far more advanced manufacturing facility.

It was possible that some far off advanced magocracy could have made it. But considering the downright medieval societies so far, that was unlikely. It was more than likely a culture that had a well-developed scientific and magical background constructed this. The hypothesis of an advanced vampiric society might ring true.

This discovery reaffirmed his resolve to continue. The ruins of the ancient upire will need to be studied. If the answer he seeks does not lay within that ancient tomb. He will continue to the Wizard State of Ikarus.

But for now, he has some strange technology to study. Spending nearly another hour on the armour and sword, filling several pages of notes. He closed his book, noticed his tea was empty, and recalled the request made by Alek. Not wanting to keep him waiting, he left the room. Passing through the hallway, politely waving at the women walking by.

His thought turned to the skewed gender population of this castle. Recalling why they were originally here, he understood why. Distasteful was saying it mildly. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why the bandits chose them.

Eventually he found Alek and Felix, after getting directions from a nice girl named Angela. The pair were standing upon the battlements, their gazes set to the forest and the rising sun. They looked like a father and son duo, except they regarded each other in the reverse. Al wondered how that dynamic will go as time goes on. Will they become brothers, blood brothers, so to speak? Or will the elder always look down at the younger and see their creator? Questions for a later date.

“I hope I'm not interrupting.” Al interrupted.

“Not at all. We were just chatting.” Alek answered politely.

Al nodded, waiting for a few seconds before speaking again.

“You had a magical problem you wanted me to look into?”

“Ah yes, it is quite a sensitive matter, but I hope you can help.”

Al agreed, very curious what this sensitive matter was and so followed the pair. Felix left halfway, waiting to tour the castle and find his sister. Alek was glad of it, since his destination was the dungeon. The two descended into the bowls of the castle. They passed several iron cells. Al, being the curious sort, snuck a peek. What lay within were several moaning vampires, sprawled on the floor, wrapped in chains, and appeared to have lost a lot of blood.

“Friends of yours?” Al inquired.

“Former friends, they were beasts in life and keep that in death. We had to chain them down and bleed them. Less they ravaged the castle again.”

“Why not kill them?” He asked.

“I ask myself that very question. I have yet to find an answer.”

With that, the subject died down to an awkward silence. The pair moved past the tableau and came upon a dead end. Initially confused, Al came to realisation when the vampire opened a secret entrance. A partition of the wall slid open, revealing a hidden room. The two entered, and the first thing Al noticed were the torture devices. Hung up on the side were whips, chains and all the odd accoutrements of a deranges mind. Closer inspection revealed their true purpose.

“I'm flattered, dude, but I don’t swing that way.” He declared sarcastically.

Discount Dracula stopped in his tracks, turning to his associate with a perplexed expression. Al gestured his chin towards the dungeon paraphernalia. Alek noted this and sighed softly, an act Al thought the undead couldn’t perform.

“Yes, this place is a torture chamber. I have been meaning to clear it out.”

Al chuckled softly, pointing at one whip and explained.

“This is a sex dungeon.”

Upon that explanation, Alek’s eyes widened, the realisation hit him like a ton of bricks. His eyes moved back and forth between the chains and the strange spears that were far too dull at the point.

“By the spirits, I need to apologise to Sara.” He blurted out, his eyes shifting to the inner room.

“Who’s Sara.” Al asked, receiving no reply.