The forest, dark and mighty, was damp and empty. Empty except a man talking to a [Paladin] tied up in a tree. It was a monologue.

“Under the boot of time, the earth shifts—mud is pressed down, grass is trampled. Time is fickle. It moves again and again—an uneven flow.”

The man lets out a sigh, his gestures growing more and more emphatic.

“One cannot let obsession after obsession lead one through life. It’s unhealthy. But one can make exceptions: you and your sister. Your mother, I must make sure before that obsession is let go. But you two. You are the sun in my eclipse. I cannot and can never let you go. You are my son, Will. Understand that you are more than precious.”

He stares for a moment, a hand pointed at the [Paladin].

“When you were born, the earth struck gold. A nugget in my arms. Forfeit one thing, yes, but I cannot forfeit you.”

He leans into him, the smell of blood in the air. It stings his crooked nose, jagged and broken, it was evidently recently punched quite hard.

“My flesh is grey, but my blood runs hot. Child, you will see me once more. Remember my words.”

The man, Talisman, laughs and leaps away, his form morphing into a bat as he flies, holy smite chasing him as the paladin frees an arm to activate a skill.

The [Hero] son—the [Paladin] of the Holy Chasseurs—on a eternal hunt.

----------------------------------------

9 Years later

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Talisman reads a book, a hood covering him from head to toe, the slow rumbling of the wagon settling down as it approaches the city walls. The merchant, his servant, turns back her head.

“Your grace,” Her words are clipped, her lips twitching in disdain at his instructed title. “the city of Hassef is the last major city on our route. We should be in the city before nightfall if we keep a steady pace. From here, the road should be clear, unless the roadblocks were increased by the king again. Honestly, fuck him."

"My good lady, what bewitchment has come across you? What foul language are you speaking?!" Talisman dramatically arches his eyebrow. "HAs the devil--"

"You're the one adorned with horns, not I," Ano interjects with an icy glare.

A gasp escapes Talisman, his hand instinctively rising to cover his mouth.

"Ano, dearest Ano, I beseech you, retract that statement. The devil takes great offense when his name is misused. I am the one with fangs! I am not a mere demon!"

Ano's glare persists. "I apologize, your grace. You are an archdemon, nay, the king of all devils."

"Vampire! Vampire, Ano! I am a vampire!"

As the wagon collides with the city gate, Talisman springs down, his cape trailing like a shadow behind him. His confident stride carries him through the entrance, guards affording him ample space.

Ano follows by his side.

"Vampire," she utters.

"Yes, my dear."

"Archdemon."

"You wound me."

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"The Devil."

Talisman theatrically slams his hands onto the counter before the gate, a wide grin painted on his face.

"Good morrow, Guardsman. We are humble traders, seeking passage for our wares. Might we have leave to enter?"

A sigh escapes the guard, who gestures for the wagon to be brought closer. "Whence do you come?"

Talisman's smile only widens. "Ah, it has been a long journey. From the farthest reaches of the northern expanse to this very place. Isn't that right, Ano?"

Ano regards him with a steady gaze before nodding.

The guard's head tilts inquisitively. "A great distance to travel, yet your load seems rather light."

Talisman's grin remains unshaken. "We are but two souls, carrying the weight of our own existence. But within this wagon, we bear a collection of magical curiosities. If you would indulge us, Ano, please present a sample from our assortment."

Ano nods and conjures a dagger, sending it whirling through the air to embed itself expertly in the distant wall. "A fine demonstration indeed. You see, Guardsman, Ano here is a master of blades. And that very blade—undeniably unbreakable!"

A blue skill box flickered. Inspection.

"It's not imbued with magic.”

Talisman waves a dismissive hand. "Ah, mere details. Semantics, really. My dear, what more treasures can we unveil? What else can we contribute? Behold, a compass perpetually pointing the wrong way. An hourglass capable of reversing time by a mere nanosecond. A sword, honed to perfection, but only at its least desirable edges."

Rolling his eyes, the guardsman sighs. "Your goods are hardly captivating, but I'll grant you passage."

"You're most gracious. However, a gift must not go unnoticed. It's yours for the taking, a token of goodwill. A pen that inscribes the exact moment of your passing."

"What in the—"

"Ano, let us venture forth."

"Yes, your grace."

The wagon rumbles on again

----------------------------------------

The city is bustling with life. There are few people of a smaller stature than Ano. Talisman is just barely shorter than the average human, but he keeps his head low and his stride short. With his head bowed, he could easily pass as an old human of age, but his presence is unmistakable. Ano, however, is inconspicuous. She's cladded in dark brown clothes that blend in with the dirt, her hood drawn close to cover her face.

"Damnation, Talisman, this city is a cesspit," she mutters, "You shouldn't have let me off the wagon."

"Come now, my dear. Do you not smell the thousand scents of blood and flesh, enticing your taste buds? A city full of delicious, delicious blood." Talisman pauses and tilts his head, grinning. "Oh right. You can't. Still human. Are you sure you don't want me to—"

"No."

"Very well, then." He pauses to sniff the air, his smile widening. "Still. Does the city not entice you? The swaying of a thousand boots to a strange rhythm?"

"The only thing that intrigues me is how much this city will cost us."

"Ah, you are thinking like a merchant. A most practical thing to do." His eyes dart around the streets, taking in the sights, the grime of the hundred races. "But you know, this is just the type of city my son would love.”

“Isn’t your son chasing us across the continent with the Holy Order of Chasseurs?”

“Yes, yes. The Holy Order. The Death to all vampires. How dare I exist? But still dearest Ano, I love him even if they’ve corrupted his heart.”

Ano shrugs. "It is his duty. It is what his parents taught him."

"Is that a compliment to my parenting skills?" Talisman grins.

"You're missing the point." Ano continues walking. "The fact is his father taught him to be a [Knight]. And his mother, his mother taught him to be a [Paladin]."

Talisman's smile drops, his hands go to Ano’s shoulder. The nails bite into flesh.

"Ano, my dear Ano." Talisman glares at her, a rare moment of deadly seriousness. "I command you to never speak of her ever again. Another utterance or mutter of her and you shall die the most painful death I can fathom. Understand?"

Ano stiffens for a moment and with no response, Taliman’s fingers ripped further into her shoulder—tearing into the skin.

"DO you understand?"

Ano struggles, a painful wince as she’s nearly brought down to the dirt floor.

"Loud and clear, your grace,” Ano gasps as the force relents. “You know how much I'd hate to disappoint you by dying a 'painful death' before my time."

Talisman's expression softens, his arm bringing her up once more and dusting her off.

“Now, where were we, Ano?”

"We were discussing the art of not bankrupting ourselves in this charming cesspit of a city."

Talisman chuckles, the tension dissipating as quickly as it had emerged.

"Indeed, my ever-resourceful Ano. Let us navigate these treacherous financial waters with the skill of a seasoned captain, avoiding the siren calls of exorbitant prices and dubious merchants."

They continue their stroll through the bustling city, Talisman's gaze drifting over the various stalls and shops, his senses attuned to the undercurrent of life that pulses through the streets. Ano follows alongside, her eyes scanning the surroundings with a mix of scrutiny and apathy.

The city of Hassef was the perfect place to recoup their funds.

“I’ll set up store in the market. You. Deal with the rest.”

“As always,” Ano muttered, the two of them parting ways.