It had been four days since the incident, and though he had hardly left his bed, Alphonse still had yet to get a good night’s sleep. The sunlight creeping through the blinds into his eyes told him he needed to get up, but it still took all his willpower to roll out of bed and get dressed.

  In the hall, he met Pierre, who had put on a false smile that was at odds with the rest of his appearance. His hair was greasy and unkempt, his black suit was wrinkled and ill-fitting, and he had dark circles like bruises under his eyes. Al was sure he looked much the same.

  “Chin up, Al,” he said. “Christine wouldn’t- she wouldn’t want to see you all down like that.”

  The irony of his statement was not lost on Al, but he returned the smile anyway.

  “Right you are.”

  The two stood in silence for a few seconds before Pierre spoke again.

  “Well then. Shall we?”

  The funeral was held outside on a hill southwest of the city where lost Adventurers were interned. Christine’s plot was near the top of the hill, alongside a few more of the branch’s more notable losses.

  Funeral services for Adventurers were not rare, but under Alyona, they were growing less frequent every year. Still, a funeral on this scale had not been held since the previous branch manager had died. Christine had been a well-known figure among the Bizet Adventurers, so nearly half of the branch’s active members were present. Al looked around anxiously and breathed a sigh of relief when he did not see the dark-haired mage anywhere. He had no right to keep her out, but if she had been there, he didn’t know what he would have done. Unbidden, the memories from that day returned.

  With the adrenaline gone, and he collapsed to the ground. He watched her feet as they drew near, knowing that if she were to do anything to him, he would not be able to resist. Then, she did something unexpected: she knelt down and hugged him.

  A wave of emotion crashed over him. A few minutes ago, he had thought he had lost everything, but now Lucy was miraculously alive, and Pierre was no longer in danger. He had hardly dared to believe what he was seeing before, but feeling her touch, there could be no doubt that Lucille was still with him. He held her tightly and wept.

  She claimed not to be alive, but she was warm and soft and her hand gently caressing the back of his head was as comforting as any living person’s. Then, he felt a sharp pain in his neck, and his body was no longer under his control.

  “I’m sorry, Al,” she said “It was my only choice. I swear, I won’t ever take advantage of you again. All I need is for you to never say a word about me being a vampire.”

  I wouldn’t have, he thought, but his mouth didn’t move.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” she said. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other options. This is a matter of life and death for me.”

  You could have just asked me.

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  “I never wanted any of this,” she continued. “I never wanted to come to this world. I never wanted to be a vampire. I never wanted to be that bitch’s puppet. I never- I never wanted Christine to die. It’s not my fault.”

  I never said it was.

  She sank down into a crouch, hugging her knees, and stayed like that for long enough that Al lost track.

  “I shouldn’t have said that,” she finally said. “I shouldn’t have said any of that.” She pointed at him. “You will not say a word of this. To anyone. By any method. No writing, no hand signs… no interpretive dances. I dunno. But you will not let anyone know what I said or did here by any means.

  “Now, here’s what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna let you go, and you’re gonna carry Pierre while I carry Christine. I have the [Inventory] skill, so I can preserve her perfectly. We’ll let the Guild know and then we’ll go our separate ways and you’ll never see or hear from me again. Got it?”

  After that, everything was a blur, but true to her word, the only thing Lucy left behind were memories and rumors, which were sure to increase after the funeral when it got out that she had skipped it.

  Al and Pierre took their seats in the front just a few paces from the closed casket. The wooden box was wreathed in white flowers and in front of it, a painting of Christine and Pierre on their wedding day. In the painting, Pierre was wearing the same suit he had on now, Christine was wearing a simple white dress, and both wore smiles brighter than the sun.

  The murmur of the attendees behind them soon died down as Alyona stepped up onto a makeshift platform behind the casket.

  “As I’m sure you’re all aware, my name is Alyona, and I am the manager of the Bizet branch of the Adventurer’s Guild. I haven’t known Christine for as long as some here, but I will never forget the day we met. She was not the first runaway noble to apply at this branch, but she was the first to try to prove her skills by swinging a knife at me in my office.”

  A few in the audience chuckled.

  “I believe that Adventuring takes a certain disposition that nobles don’t often have, so I tried to intimidate her and scare her off. I asked her what she thought she could bring to the guild, and why she thought we needed a scrawny silver spoon who had never had to fight for anything in her life. I guess she took that as an invitation to demonstrate her skills, so she drew a knife almost as long as her arm. I still don’t know where she was hiding it.”

  More laughter, this time louder.

  “Christine was a constant source of energy and laughter for everyone in the Guild. She was always cheerful, and always looking out for others, and she wasn’t afraid to make herself the butt of her jokes if it meant making others happy. She was also one of very few who felt comfortable enough to make me the butt of her jokes.”

  Even Pierre let out a small noise at that.

  “Her loss weighs heavy on all our hearts, and without her, the world is a darker place. However, it doesn’t have to be. As we all move on in our lives, we should all keep her in our hearts, and let her live on through us. Spread joy as she would have, and always be the best you can be.”

  After Alyona, a few more adventurers stood up to tell their Christine stories, and eventually, Pierre tried as well. He could not get more than ten words in before he was sobbing, and soon, so too was everyone else.

  The funeral ended two hours after it started, the icy ground much wetter than it had been. After the casket was lowered, and the guests began to trickle out, a line formed in front of Pierre of people offering their condolences. Al stood off to the side scanning his surroundings.

  He did not know why he continued to look for her. He knew she wouldn’t be coming. He didn’t want to see her. And yet, he couldn’t help but strain his eyes as he looked at each guest’s face for the fifth time that morning.

  At noon, the final guests left, and only Pierre and Al were left. They cried over the fresh dirt once more before they too made to leave. As they walked down the trail, Al looked backward at the graveyard, and for a moment, he swore he saw the shimmering silhouette of a young woman, but when he blinked the tears away and looked again, it was gone.