After that whole affair with the witch and the reward money was done and dealt with, Theodore made a stop at the local tavern at the Common District down south. This was the first time Theodore has ever been in a city before, as some of his bounties took place in the wilderness.

A major city in every province was once the capital of a certain kingdom in ages past. But after the Parliament of Magicians established itself as the sole governing power over the continent of Fericire, these kingdoms were then stripped of their political dominance and relegated to provinces.

They were usually divided into two districts; the Noble District where the local nobility and the clergy reside in complete luxury, and the Common District, which was where everyone else lived: the workers, the merchants, the beggars, and the thieves.

The pub on the first floor was as lively as most bars would get. The drunks would often babble stories with his mates, others sang shanties hoarsely and danced sluggishly, while the majority went about and fought each other with fists and priceless furniture.

"A plate of roasted chicken, please. With a mug of milk on the side," he told the barkeeper, with a several pieces from his reward money as payment.

"You got it, sir." The barkeeper took the money and walked toward the back.

Theodore did not have to wait long for the barkeeper was quite a fast cook. He gave him his order in less than an hour. The crispy golden skin of the smoking-hot roasted chicken was slathered in a mixture of garlic, herbs and lemon butter. A small bowl of golden pan oil stood by the edge of the tray alongside the mug of warm milk, just as he requested.

Theodore poured the oil onto the chicken. And with the fork and spoon in his hands, he cut up the chicken into tiny bits. He savored every bite. The taste of the skin, the tenderness of the sauce melting into the meat. He had begun to wonder: was this what monsters imagined humans taste like? If so, then he might have understood their unusual cravings to a small degree.

He finished up the meal in the same time it took to cook up that chicken. He took the mug of fresh milk and swallowed it empty in a handful of gulps. It was thoroughly sweet, and a milky mustache painted his upper lip. And then another question came to mind: was blood this satisfying to vampires when they drank it out of some poor peasant's neck?

After gobbling up the meal in the same amount of time it took to prepare it, Theodore stepped outside for a little stroll through the city of Steslia. Much like the other regions in Fericire, many of the buildings were usually tall, second story windows, often arched at the top, that’d break through the decorative cornice, and rise above the eaves at the edge of the roof.

Modeled after country manors and the local lords' offices in the provinces, the brick or stucco homes are stately and formal. They have steep hipped roofs and a square, symmetrical shape with windows balanced on each side of the entrance. Theodore may not have been a deep admirer of the architecture, but he was merely abiding by his grandfather's words.

"Learn to appreciate the small things in life, Ted." His grandfather told him once a few years prior. "A hunter's life is always a dangerous one. You never know if you might die one day from a foe getting the better of you. So, every food you eat, every place you go, and every person you meet, keep those experiences to heart and never let go of the memory."

Theodore accidentally bumped into a little boy whilst deep in thought. He looked down and saw the boy was merely barefooted and dirt covered his plump face and blue tunic. He gave Theodore a look of utter embarrassment and after giving him a flustered bow, continued his sprint towards his friends, who were playing hoopball in the square.

Theodore never made the effort of having friends, for showing the Mark would scare away children. Nor would he have the time to have any. Being raised to be a hunter all his life, the concept of companionship never once crossed his mind. Nevertheless, Theodore watched the children play from afar with bated curiosity.

He continued his stroll toward the narrow alleyways between the buildings. It was important to familiarize himself with every city he visits, from where the important shops were and what routes and shortcuts to take.

Theodore took a turn toward an empty alleyway on the far edge of the city. As soon as he reached the middle point, he sensed the smell of iron and sweat hiding from every crevice of the alleyway. He realized too late that he walked himself into a trap, as a group of thugs trapped him from both directions. They were wearing thick and dirty cloaks, smiling menacingly as they brandished their revolvers.

"Pardon me," Theodore told them. "I merely took a wrong turn, now let me pass."

The tallest of their group clicked his tongue at him. "Enough of your yapping. Now hand over the money or it won't end well for you."

Theodore despised these kinds of people. Honorless scoundrels who spend their pitiful lives robbing others under the threat of death. Though he was taught only to kill monsters, the insatiable desire to kill these plundering bastards nearly overtook Theodore. He placed a hand on his sword, ready for a bloodbath.

"There you are, you cheeky little mouse." A woman's soft voice crept up to him from behind. "I've been looking everywhere for you."

And quickly Theodore found his arm held by a small hand hidden under black gloves and puffy spring yellow sleeves. He turned his head around and saw a woman no taller than his shoulders.

Her entire body was concealed under a forest green cloak with a bright gold ribbon. On her head, she wore a matching top hat with a black veil that obscured her face. On her other hand, she held a wooden cane.

She bore a delectable aroma of white roses and grape wine. Weird, Theodore noted. He didn't sense her scent at all before this moment. It flared his nose the moment she held his arm.

"Stand aside, blondie." The leader of the ruffians told her. "We have business with the hunter. If you value your life, then leave."

The lady tilted her head in confusion, slowly joining hands with him. "Pardon me! My lovely chauffeur just came into this city for the first time as a tourist. Surely you can have the decency to spare his dignity and leave him be?"

"Enough of this twaddle!" The muscled thug behind her shouted. "Give us your money willingly or we'll have to pry it off your tiny little hands."

Strangely, the lady barely made any reaction to his threat like any other woman would loudly do. Instead, she calmly removed her glove and turned to face the thug. "Fine. Come and get it," she replied, her tone was as cold as ice.

Enraged, the thug raised his fist at her. At first, Theodore couldn't see her; she moved so quickly, almost like she became a cold breeze on the wind, that he found her already in front of the thug. He was frozen mid-action, while the lady had already grasped his face with her ungloved hand.

When she let go, the thug began to shiver. His eyes have now gone wide and glassy, frantically moving in all directions. What started as a faint little whimper eventually escalated into a fully panicked scream as the thug began to claw his face. His fellow thieves were both confused and terrified, backing away from their friend.

"GET THEM OFF ME! GET THEM OFF ME!" The thug wailed as he fell onto the ground, writhing in agony. "MAKE THEM STOP!"

Theodore heard as the lady sighed from under her veil, he couldn't tell whether it was a faint gist of laughter or exasperation that he heard. She wordlessly tapped the ground with her cane and the thug spontaneously stopped screaming and flailing around.

The thug sat up seemingly normal, but his eyes were staring blankly into nowhere, his mouth was dry and twitching uncontrollably. He took one look at the lady, and crawled away from her in panic.

The lady turned to the other thieves. "Please tend to your friend. He's not well in his head." She simply said to them, feigning concern.

At once, the other thieves quickly carried their friend and hurried away in a panic. Theodore stood there, quietly impressed, as he found himself alone in the alleyway next to a somewhat unhinged lady with the prowess of a powerful magician.

"Good riddance, honestly." She said as she put on the glove. "I hated those kinds of people as well. Glad to know that I'm not the only one who thinks the same way, Theodore Barclay."

How did she know my last name? Theodore thought. He made sure not to say it in front of the council. She's around his age, surely a novice at that point, but it would seem that she's a prodigy. For only a master could be able to read minds so easily.

The magician brushed away her veil, the moonlight shone through her platinum blonde hair tied in an updo bun. Her doe eyes, a pair of deep shimmering emeralds, gazed upon him so ravenously in a way that made him icky and wary of her.

Theodore knew he recognized her; she was among those present in the meeting with the Magistrate when he made the unexpected decision to throw a decapitated head in the middle of a council meeting.

She then simply gave Theodore a somewhat mischievous grin, the same expression she made when the witch’s head rolled onto the table and traumatized half of the attending noblemen. But whether or not she wanted to seduce him or use him for some devious machinations was uncertain, a trait which was common for a lot of magicians.

"A fine evening to you too, milady." Theodore bowed his head so slightly. It would be a death sentence to deny a lady some manners, his grandfather told him once. "To whom do I owe this pleasure?"

"My name is Yvette Margoyles, apprentice magician and representative of Cardinal Silva Tremblay of the city of Vollimere." she introduced herself with a gentle bow.

"Bless you." Theodore simply said. What a mouthful of words she uttered under one breath, he thought. A lot of provinces have lost their rights to be kings, but they gave their rulers some unique titles to compensate instead; Magistrates for the Killarney province, and Cardinals rule the Vollimere province

Yvette turned her head in both directions before she spoke again. "I have important matters to discuss with you. But it would seem that this is not exactly the proper place for a chat. I could take you someplace tidier... If you're willing?"

"That depends on the location." Theodore replied. No way he would be spending such leisurely time in a chaotic hellhole like that tavern with a lady. "I know not of a tidier place than this, but do lead the way, milady." He raised his hand, and she grasped it firmly.

⚜️

They venture toward the coffee house in the Noble District, which was on the other side of the city. It never once crossed Theodore's mind to take up lodgings in this district; they were too expensive, too flashy, and often the nobles made a fuss over everything; a poison in the ears as his grandfather would say.

There were large cages spread around the district market. Inside those cages were demi-beast slaves wearing dirty rags and chains around their limbs. They were hybrids who resembled humans but bore characteristics akin to animals. Most of them possess weird ears that reflect certain animal species, a few have horns protruding out of their heads, and have tails on their backs.

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Yvette seemed like she would fit perfectly as a noblewoman. But something was peculiar about her. She seemed disgusted at the sight of demi-beast slaves and rarely spoke with the other nobles as they passed by, she rolled her eyes at them with disdain.

Many of the nobles grew agitated and scared when they took notice of her. But not as greatly as they feared Theodore beside her. It was definitely not her perfume, Theodore thought.

"I heard that," Yvette said, as they found an empty booth upstairs; it was a table for two with a wide open window by their side overlooking the city. Two identical copies of the menu sat on top of the table. Yvette removed her hat and placed it on her armrest alongside his cane, while Theodore set down his sword on his own.

A waiter, probably in his teens, approached them with a tray in hand. "Good evening, monsieur and mademoiselle. What would you like to order?"

"I'll have a slice of lemon cake. And a cup of chamomile tea." Yvette said with a smile that seemed fake. "Your turn, now. My treat." She turned to Theodore, who was deep in thought over the menu.

"I'll..." Theodore hesitated. He hated how many options there were on the menu. The options on the tavern were at least straightforward. "I'll have the lamb, skewered. And a glass of cold water." He simply said.

The waiter nodded and moved on to make the orders. "We can dispense with the pleasantries." Theodore spoke as soon as they were alone in the booth. "Who do you work for, and what do you want from me?"

"I told you already." She smirked playfully. "I am under direct orders from the Cardinal to find you."

"I'm not talking about that," Theodore retorted. "You already knew my last name on our first encounter, when I've not shared it in the Magistrate's council or anyone in particular. You seem young, around my age at best, yet you somehow manage to perfectly read my mind, an ability that only the most powerful of magicians could master.

"I would have naturally assumed that you're a prodigy of the arts, but I also considered that you had proper training by an accomplished magician."

Yvette was indeed dumbfounded by his observation, but kept her smile on both ends of her cheeks. "Very perceptive. Everything I want in a man. Yes, you're right in all fronts. It was this ability that led me right to you."

"Not quite." Theodore continued. "There's something else. You were already expecting me in that council as if you knew I would be there. After that, you have been following me in my stroll around the city. You used something to disguise your scent so I wouldn't track you.

"Surprisingly, I've never told anyone about my very sensitive nose, or my existence in general. All my life, I've only known two people who have access to that information. One is my grandfather, and he's more of a freelancer who wouldn't affiliate himself with magicians or the government in any way.

"But the other one does, and is also an excellent magician. She must've trained you brilliantly and for this mission, she deliberately recommended me to you with all the necessary information needed to find me. Your master..."

"Your aunt," Yvette chuckled. "You're smart. That's what Lady Fiona always says about you."

Fiona Beaufoy was his mother's older sister. She had trained him in the magical arts since he was ten, but after her betrayal six years ago, Theodore never saw her again nor did he have any will in him to find her. "Odd. I never thought her to be the kind to think of me at all."

Just then, they were interrupted by the arrival of the waiter, who was carrying a tray of their orders with only one hand. Theodore and Yvette silently stared at each other, determined to read each other like books.

Theodore didn't think of it much before, but Yvette's eyes seem to glow brightly in the dark. Her face seemed paler under the light of the candelabra at the center of the table. And the way she stared deeply into his eyes, perhaps she saw something in him that made her slightly nervous. But she brushed it away after a moment, and retained her confident little smile.

It didn't take long for the waiter to leave them alone. Yvette immediately took a sip of the chamomile tea whilst Theodore took a bite from the lamb.

Theodore rubbed his chin and sighed. "Well, it's not so often that I get a client from such a high standing. It must be a huge deal, whatever he's asking me to do."

"First things first. What do you know about the Countess Georgescu?" Yvette asked.

Theodore's eyes widened, her question nearly made him choke from the water. He knew all too well who the Countess was. He has heard stories from different regions of the continent based on the Countess's infamy amongst the common folk.

"You've heard of her, it would seem." Yvette noted. "I'm curious, Theodore. Why was she known by so many and feared by just as much?"

Theodore nodded along. "The tales vary from region to region, but this is the very name they gave the Countess. In the golden age of magic, she was among the most powerful of the sort. But she isn't exactly subtle in hiding the atrocious acts she used her gifts for.

"She seduced all kinds of people with illusions of their wildest dreams, binding their souls to her will in exchange for making their dreams a reality. She uses them as puppets to instigate wars, making alliances turn on each other and crumble. The slaughter that ensued, between armies and innocents, was able to sustain her for hundreds of years.

"Many came forth to challenge her. Hunters and magicians alike. But none could stand a chance against her. Most of them died by her hand, some others surrendered themselves over as her slaves for all eternity. Truly she was among the worst of the vampires."

Yvette nodded along, charmed by his retelling. "Quite a long memory these poor folk have. Indeed they are great storytellers. But as a Hunter, what do you think is the truth behind this Countess?"

"For one thing, she is a powerful magician just as the tale suggests. But she's careful in how she uses it. She might even be a succubus, a demon that feasts on the pleasure of humans. It's very plausible that the very magic she uses to control a person's will is an art she inverted herself."

"It's somewhat akin to puppeteering, I see." Yvette continued. "The Parliament has considered such a dark art a taboo nowadays. And tapping into such art is easier said than done. If someone like her can do it so effortlessly, no wonder she was as feared as she was."

"But I don't exactly see why this could be a problem." Theodore noted. "The Countess is long dead. The years have weakened her greatly, enough to be killed by a magician twenty years ago."

Yvette blinked and laughed at him. Theodore had to raise an eyebrow. "What's so funny?"

"The Countess isn't dead. Never has been." She told him. "She's just been sealed away by that same magician, for she was too powerful to kill. It's simply a lie they told everyone to make them believe the threat is over."

"Oh, really?" Theodore wasn't very subtle in hiding his surprise. "How delightful. So I assume she's at it again with her bloody rampage?"

"Not quite." Yvette took a spoonful of the cake before she explained. "For the past three weeks, there have been brutal raids around Vollimere's borders. They've been targeting surrounding villages, their livestock, and traveling merchants along the road. Based on the evidence recovered in these ruins, they were caused by the Shadow's Claw."

"Shadow's Claw? What's that?"

"A band of demi-beast rebels that's been causing a lot of chaos around Vollimere's borders. The Cardinal's men have been at war with them lately. On every village they destroy, they only leave one person alive."

"For what purpose?"

"To send a message to the Cardinal. Sure they killed almost everyone in those villages, but they left a precious few alive to tell him in person."

"And what did they tell him?" Theodore asked as he sipped on his water. It was cold, just what he needed.

Yvette made a hard gulp of her tea before she continued. "They said, 'The Countess Georgescu shall awaken with the first snow and on the brink of winter, she shall bring forth the great city's fall'."

Theodore reflected on those words. Long has he searched for a bigger fish, but now it was as if he'd be taking on a whale-sized shark and an army of god-knows-how-many piranhas who'd eat him up in one bite.

"But as a Hunter, do you think she could be killed?" Yvette asked, pleasantly curious.

"She's a vampire. Of course they do." Theodore answered. "But she's an ancient vampire, someone who's stronger and survived far longer than any other vampire. Those sorts are far beyond my limits. Furthermore, it would seem she's got an army of half-breeds on her side. By that point, no hunter would survive long enough to even graze her. Not even me."

He sat up, wiping his face with a napkin. "I'm sorry, but I must respectfully decline. If you want a more experienced hunter to do the job better, go and ask my grandfather. Though he would be a lot harder to track down and convince than I am. Good day, milady."

Theodore took his sword and was about to leave the booth when Yvette arose from her seat and spoke up in haste. "I know what it is you're searching for. It's the very reason you held on to this dirty profession for as long as you live, is it not?"

Theodore stopped dead in his tracks. "Lady Fiona told me a lot of things about you, but she neglected to tell me your deepest secret. Said it was something I must figure out on my own. And only now did I finally realized it."

Theodore turned around to face her. "You read my mind again, didn't you?"

"Nope. I could already tell just by looking at you." Yvette sauntered a tad too close to Theodore. "You didn't choose this job because you wanted to kill monsters. You chose it so you want to know for yourself if you're becoming one."

She touched the frame of Theodore's glasses before pausing. "May I?" She asked.

"Go ahead," Theodore replied, unremorseful. "But you might not like what you'll find."

And so, Yvette pulled his glasses away and saw for herself his bright crimson eyes. Yet somehow, she smiled as she gazed upon them; the first time he saw a human make such a peculiar reaction after seeing his Mark for the first time.

"Lady Fiona told me what the mark does to a human. They become one with the demon that cursed them, making them unable to feel or understand emotions. For a demon has no need for them. Their eyes, the mark itself, is said to reflect the crimson hellfires in the Underworld.

"You were desperate. You wanted to see if you could feel remorse, fear, or anything worth feeling when you face those monsters yourself. To prove that you're still human. But you couldn't, because that's your nature. What you simply have is an instinctive lust for bloodshed, the very thing you would've done to those thugs had I not intervened. Try all you want, but you cannot escape what you are: a monster in the flesh of a human."

Theodore grabbed her wrist just as she fondled his pale cheek, and began to crush it under his fist. And Yvette saw in his eyes, nothing but a wide empty stare into her soul.

"Y'know, I'm beginning to understand why Gramps hated magicians so much. So nosey. What makes you think this little assessment of yours is going to convince me to join your precious little hunt?"

Yvette strained from the pain, but kept her composure. "There's a spell. A spell that can reverse the effects of the Mark. And Fiona knows where it is. And she'll give it to you, only if you cooperate and succeed in this hunt."

Theodore slowly twisted her wrist. "Why would I believe you? And in what mad world would I trust your word or Fiona's?"

Just then, Yvette's pupils disappeared, leaving only the whites occupying her eyes. A cold chill suddenly overtook Theodore. He blinked and suddenly the world around him became surrounded by literal ghosts.

Countless ethereal forms of misshapen faces, contorted limbs, and eyes dripping with blood appeared out from the walls. They crawled all over his body, crawling through his clothes and into his skin. They wailed incessantly at his ears, the sound of an off-tune choir of demons.

Ah, he thought. So this is what she made the thug saw. It may be meant to terrify a common villager, but Theodore felt nothing but a little ticklish as the ghosts clawed their way around him. He turned back to Yvette and found her staring at him with such a quietly deadly gaze.

"You might be wondering what kind of magician I am." Yvette said. "Well, I can see beyond the mortal realm. Lost souls and spirits occupy every nook and cranny of the world and not only can I perceive them, they obey my every command. In a way, they're my lovingly loyal pets."

"A neat little gimmick. Why bother telling me all this?"

"Because I was sent by Lady Fiona to find you, for she deems you the only man worthy enough to partake in this hunt. And I'm not going to leave empty-handed just because you've got cold feet," Yvette replied.

"And now that you've really pissed me off, what's stopping me from just breaking your arm right here?"

"Simple. Souls cling to those closest to death and unfortunately, these souls are now bound to you by an eternity of hatred and unfinished business." She explained to him, barely losing her smile as she leaned closer toward him. "You break my arm, I shall grant these souls permission to kill you, polluting your body with hundreds of diseases and curses until you eventually expire. And maybe when I absorb your soul as well, you can become my pet as well for as long as I breathe."

"I've already been cursed, milady," Theodore simply remarked. "I doubt what they'll give me will hurt any less. Just get to the point."

"My point is, you want to become a real human just like everyone else. I understand that more than you think. That's why Lady Fiona and by extension me, are urging you to join us, no matter how impossible the task is. So you can fulfill that goal much sooner." Yvette was already so close to Theodore's face.

"Or you can say no right now, and return to a pointless and meaningless life of trying to chase after a dream you could never hope to reach. Until one day you've finally succumbed to that horrible curse that you'll end up regressing into the very monster you tried so hard to forsake. Is that the kind of life you intend to pursue for all your days, Theodore Barclay, or do you wish to break free from that curse and carve out your own destiny?"

I hate that the magician's right, Theodore thought as his mind was divided by a multitude of doubts. He let go of Yvette's wrist, now bruised red as she scrambled to the nearest chair. But she retained her composed smile as she waited for an answer.

Well now, there's no turning back after this, he told himself. His desire to be human was just by an arm's reach, the only thing he needed to do was kill the bloody Countess. A terrible offer, to be sure. But the reward sounded too good to be true.

"I need proof of this reward if you want me to accept this task," he told her.

"It's in Lady Fiona's hands, back in the city of Vollimere." Yvette answered. "I'll take you to her, if you're interested."

Before Theodore left the booth, he turned to face Yvette and with his decision shall change the course of his own destiny.

"All right, then. I'll join you to Vollimere. How soon can we depart?"