CHAPTER 25: LATE TO THE TRAGEDY.
“Magic is power, so using terms like magical power or energy is idiotic. Still, there is something to be said for idiotic simplifications. It’s easier to use the ‘common terms’ for the potency and concentration of Magic than it is to explain Quintessence theory and the Sophronic scale. Suffice it to say Magic is the Aether and, by extension, the Beyond, altering our mundane reality. The degree of this alteration and the required force to cause it are what we call ‘magical power.’ As I’ve said, this is an idiotic simplification, but the world is tragically filled with idiots.” - A tangent from First Preceptor Leonid Lupa’s lecture on Magical power.
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Night fell by the time Barlstine came into view. Despite the refugees' complaints, the convoy kept moving even as darkness blanketed the surrounding farmland. Being out of the forest was a mixed bag as far as Cole was concerned. With Natalie seated atop the wagon, any ambush, even at night, was doomed to fail. But the variety of lanterns dangling from the two carts also marked the caravan out to any pursuers. Still, they didn’t have much farther to go, and it would be better to trek the few remaining kilometers than camp in such an exposed location.
Cole was still acting as the vanguard, walking maybe ten meters in front of the first wagon by himself. Natalie was busy keeping a lookout with her incredible night vision, leaving Cole to walk alone. While their argument ended relatively peacefully, the conflict still disturbed Cole. He could understand Natalie and, by extension, Isabelle’s logic, but he couldn’t agree with it. Protecting souls, no matter how rotten they were, was part of Cole’s duty. Many undead horrors he faced were the perpetrators, not victims of tragedy, but Cole freed them all the same. Letting Isabelle consume someone’s mind and soul to gain full ownership of their body was not right. It wasn’t simply killing the person but torturing them into erasure, removing them from the cycles of reincarnation. Perhaps Natalie was right, and many of the Duchies’s nobility earned such a fate, but Cole wouldn’t be the one to deliver them to it. He’d dedicated himself to serving the God of Time and Death; he wouldn’t forsake those oaths just like he wouldn’t… forsake Isabelle.
Shaking his head in self-recrimination, Cole wondered if hypocrisy was the inevitable outcome of having multiple strong beliefs. He’d dedicated himself to three different people, or well, two people and a sapient cosmic force. It was honestly pure luck his oaths hadn’t clashed to this extent before. But thinking about Natalie’s words, Cole was forced to wonder what trust he’d break first. A contradictory mixture of guilt and acceptance washed over Cole as he realized Natalie and Isabelle came first. He’d support their efforts to build Isabelle a body or any other more palatable method they could contrive. But if the worst came to pass, he’d deliver a deserving monster to its fate; Gods help him.
As if his brooding summoned her, Natalie arrived then, a frown on her face. She was wearing modified leather armor. Black and skin-tight, the outfit was treated to be fire-resistant and covered everything below Natalie’s neck. It even had a small pull-out mask that could cover the lower half of her face. Cole commissioned it from the Schneiders weeks ago but hadn’t seen Natalie actually wear it. Part of her was still extremely resistant to the idea of armor, or at least having to wear it all the time.
Smiling slightly, Cole said. “You look nice.”
Nodding absently, Natalie asked. “Do you smell that?”
Frowning, Cole sucked in a deep breath, tasting the wind as he did. “Smoke and… decay. Is it coming from Barlstine?”
Natalie’s eyes were fixed on the cluster of buildings in the distance. “I think so, but it's hard to tell. I can see the village lights and smell normal village scents. I don’t think the town’s been destroyed.”
Squinting against the dark, trying to make out details of the distant town, Cole called on his mantle and peered into the Aether. Quickly dousing his power, Cole cursed. “Fire-in-iron, not destroyed… occupied.”
A thick cloud of fear and anxiety smothered the town. Predators swam through the metaphorical fog, their hungers and actions barely visible beneath the surface. Chains of magic connected pockets of cursed hunger, binding them in unthinking obedience. Cole’s group was too late; the reavers of Duke Umbria were in Barlstine.
Glancing behind him at the painfully visible caravan, Cole swore again. “Jagged edges, they’ve probably noticed us already. We can’t retreat, or they will pursue, and there will be casualties.”
Eyes wide, Natalie asked. “Is anybody still alive in there? Are the lights just lures?”
Cole shook his head. “Too much fresh fear for everyone to be dead. You could be right, and they’re hoping to bait travelers, but I don’t think so. Too much effort, and…”
A thought struck Cole, and he peered back into the Aether, focusing his arcane senses for traces of Necromancy. It didn’t take much to find more of the occult rot; a whole cloud of miasma clung to the settlement. But that wasn’t what caught Cole’s attention; a great stream of fading Necromantic resonance trailed away from the town, heading northwest.
Nodding in understanding, Cole shared his realization. “The main force has moved on; there’s a garrison left to keep the conquered docile for the time being.”
Natalie carefully pulled her wolf skull out of a bag attached to her belt and said. “Why are they occupying a place? I thought the Duke’s armies were busy at Crowbend. Has the castle already fallen?”
Old, ugly memories danced through Cole’s mind. “This is how the Duchies like to wage war. The main force under the high peerage will focus on strategic objectives, while the lower nobility and their token forces will raid and conquer as they please. It keeps the petty Vampires busy and provides the main army a steady stream of blood and bodies. Being unrestricted by supply lines or morality is an incredible military advantage.”
Pointing in the direction the stream of miasma went, Cole elaborated. “Some Baron or Lord is probably off with his main force looking for new conquests while his vassals feast on Barlstine.”
A noise awfully similar to a growl escaped Natalie. “How strong do you think this garrison is?”
Cocking his head to one side, Cole said. “It’s hard to say, maybe two or three Vampires and a hundred or so lesser Undead?”
Nodding her head slowly, Natalie calmly asked. “Can we take them?”
Glancing at his lover, seeing the near-feral rage in her eyes, Cole chose his answer carefully. “Theoretically, but protecting the refugees would be hard.”
Looking at the wagons, Natalie specified her meaning. “I mean, the two of us, if we left the refugees with Mina and the rest, could we save this town?”
Cole hesitated. “Probably, but I don’t know about the main raiding force; if they returned at a poor moment, then things could become really bad, not just for us but the refugees as well. They are extremely exposed and would be easy prey even with Mina, Alia, and Kit protecting them.”
Groping at her belt, Natalie pulled out a tiny runebone. “I have an idea.”
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“You want him to do what?!” exclaimed Mina and Alia with genuine shock.
“You want me to do what?!” asked Kit with genuine interest.
The caravan had stopped on the road as Cole and Natalie explained the situation. Holding up the intricately carved rune, Natalie repeated herself. “That lantern of yours is a strong magic source, right? It could power the flying boat and your enchantments on the wagon no problem. So I want you to use the lantern on an extremely potent subtlety enchantment for a few hours.”
Plucking the runebone from Natalie’s fingers and examining it, Kit muttered. “Simple but elegant. Tell me, where did you get this?”
Making an annoyed noise, Natalie snapped. “A friend made it for me. Can you do what I’m suggesting?”
Glancing up at the slightly overcast sky, Kit frowned. “I can, but I doubt this clever trinket will survive the process, and I’m not certain how long the spell will work. With the stars this obscured, the lantern won’t be at full power, but it should be enough for what you are suggesting.”
Nodding, Natalie said. “That won’t be a problem; how much time do you need?”
Already moving towards the crystal lantern, Kit said. “Give me five minutes.”
Sure enough, five minutes later, looking at the caravan was difficult. Cole’s eyes slid right off the two wagons as Yara guided the horses and oxen into a nearby field. Palpable nervousness permeated the group as Kit worked to solidify the enchantment. He’d taken a very long length of rope, circled it around the temporary campsite, and anchored the subtlety spell to it. Once it was done, the cloistered caravan was practically invisible. Even knowing it was there, Cole couldn’t focus on the campsite.
Only Cole, Natalie, and Mina were outside the circle, the Priestess staring at the two of them with undisguised worry. “This isn’t a good idea. I know you two are strong, but running headlong into this kind of mess isn’t right. We could continue towards Fort Carnum and get proper support.”
Cole and Natalie exchanged looks, and slowly, the Paladin said. “Mina, I don’t think there is much support coming. These people need help, and Natalie and I are the only ones available.”
Crossing her arms, Mina’s expression became pensive. “Why are you going along with this, Cole? I get Natalie wants to charge in and save the day, but aren’t you supposed to be the cautious one?”
A snort of laughter escaped Natalie. “He’s never been cautious, just protective.”
Opening his mouth to retort, Cole realized the truth of what Natalie said. Still, Mina had a point; heading to Barlstine in a two-person surprise attack felt unusually… aggressive compared to his recent behavior. Months of being with Natalie and fearing for her seemed to have sapped some of Cole’s initiative. An effect magnified by being this close to the Duchies, where old wounds and fears came to the forefront. But something about Natalie’s half-mad idea felt right to Cole. He was a Paladin tasked with protecting the living and the dead. While his duties were becoming increasingly complicated, that didn’t change the basic fact of what he was. Innocent people were suffering at the hands of undead monsters; Cole could rescue them, so he would.
Meeting Natalie’s eyes, Cole said. “What’s the point of having power if you don’t use it to help people?”
A smile crossed Natalie’s face. “Well said, now are we ready?”
Checking over his equipment, Cole nodded. “I am, are you.”
Drawing her shortsword and calling up her wolfpack, Natalie answered. “Yep! Now, how are we going to do this?”
A memory struck Cole of his fight in the Alukah’s tomb against a group of young Vampires. “I’ll get their attention and scare them. You harass and pick off the enemy where possible. They won’t expect a frontal assault from someone like me or to be hunted by someone like you.”
Moving close to Cole, Natalie planted a kiss on his lips. “Thank you for trusting me. I know part of you wants me to just stay with the wagon. But I need to help you do this; it’s important to me.”
Catching one of her hands, Cole said. “We are being pushed into worse and worse situations. Trying to protect you like I’ve tried to isn’t feasible; the Worcs proved that. Fighting beside you is perhaps the best way to keep you safe, my love.”
An almost cocky grin spread on Natalie’s face. “I’ve been practicing with the trainee Restbringers; I hope you can keep up with me, handsome.”
More than a little surprised by that reaction, Cole watched Natalie trot towards the town; Mina observed this with a heavy frown. “She’s not taking this seriously; even a small garrison will be dangerous.”
Cole replied as Natalie and her wolfpack started to fade into the darkness. “I think this is her way of dealing with battle anxiety. Turning it into a game or something similar.”
Mina cursed. “Jagged edges… I trust you’ll keep her safe?”
Cole nodded and started to follow Natalie. “I’ll die trying if I have to.”
Ignoring the odd look he got from Mina, Cole jogged to catch Natalie and her wolfpack. Cole noticed only ten wolves surrounded Natalie, and his lover’s eyes were shut as she walked.
“What are you doing?” Cole asked, even though he had a pretty good idea.
Eyes still shut but walking steadily along the old road, Natalie replied. “Looking through the pack's senses. I’ve sent seven of them ahead to scout the town. This will cost me a bit of blood, but it seemed smart.”
Cole nodded his approval, an almost wasted gesture until he noticed one of the wolves was staring at him, and another was watching the ground ahead of Natalie. “Are you looking through all their senses? That’s impressive.”
Returning Cole’s nod, Natalie explained. “I’ve been practicing, and Isabelle’s given me some tips. She’s got me constructing a memory palace to help store and process information.”
Memory or mind palaces were among the few bits of psychic magic Cole didn’t object to. Taking mundane mental techniques and reinforcing them with Aetheric structures; the practice was key to long-lived or information-drenched beings keeping their memory and mind intact. Many Magi actually ‘saved’ spells inside their memory palace as if their own mind was an enchanted object or arcane tome. Seeing through seventeen sets of senses without difficulty was just another use of the magic.
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They walked in silence for a time then. Natalie occasionally twitched or sniffed the air, some of her wolfpack’s behavior bleeding into her. Eventually, Natalie opened her eyes, blinking them rapidly. “Barlstine is surrounded by earthwork walls; there is some kind of magic on the ramparts, and I doubt my wolves could cross them. But the town’s main gate is… well, there’s not much left; something big smashed it to flinders.”
Thinking on that, Cole called up his Aether sight. They were less than a kilometer from the town, and at this distance, he could see things previously buried beneath the cloud of fear and undeath. Posts glowing with green light stood in a rough circle around the village. They were flickering columns of magic barely visible at the miasma’s edge. Focusing on the posts, Cole felt concepts flowing around them; there was a physical marker there, with a Spirit bound to it. A potent bit of Shamanic magic, but not enough to save Barlstine, it seemed.
Relaying what he saw, Cole added. “I think our best option is the simplest; we head in through the front gate and smash through any opposition.”
Transforming Requiem into a halberd, Cole did a final equipment check and prepared to fight. He’d kept his amulet around his neck, but the spark-stone and telekine quartz were firmly attached to his palm and forearm respectfully. Beside him, Natalie grew talons from one hand and flipped her shortsword into a reversed grip. Paladin and Vampire met each other's eyes, and Cole whispered. “Be careful, I can’t lose you.”
Nodding, Natalie replied. “You too; I don’t want to explain your nature again. Morri almost staked me when I showed him after the Ball.”
Exchanging another kiss, the couple prepared to fight side by side.
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True to Natalie’s report, the main gate of Barlstine was utterly destroyed. Not overwhelmed by a tide of Ghouls or smashed down with a ram, but reduced to kindling. The earthwork walls on either side of the gate were also damaged. Where the gate and walls met, there were great gouges in the layered soil as if whatever destroyed the gate was too big to enter Barlstine without rubbing against the walls. Morbidly, Cole wondered if he was about to fight something larger than the Ghoul Giant he once faced.
Glancing up at the piled earth acting as the town’s main defenses, Cole noticed carved wooden poles sticking a meter out of the dirt every ten paces. Sun-bleached animal skulls capped each pole. Some of the bones were cracked or broken, and recently, too, if Cole was any judge. Yes, a Shaman put some effort into protecting this town, more than enough to ward off bandits and monsters, not armies.
Stepping through the gate, Natalie beside him, Cole felt a slight pressure in his ears that quickly dissipated; the sensation was worse for Natalie, judging by her wince. The last scraps of whatever spells once defended the town, trying their best and failing to keep two more interlopers out. Observing the conquered settlement, Cole wondered at the lack of guards. The streets of Barlstine were narrow; the town’s buildings seemed to be fighting for space, pressing against each other and leaving little room between them. Crafted from clay bricks and wooden planks, the buildings all had sod roofs. Bushes and other small plants grew from the transplanted soil, giving the settlement a distinctly earthy atmosphere.
The scrape of metal caught Cole’s attention, and he looked to see the occupying garrison finally arriving. Four armored soldiers came from the left and the right, their movements perfectly lockstep. Eternal Soldiers, the Rattler infantry favored by the Duchies, and a prime example of their disrespect for the dead. Cole nodded at Natalie and started striding towards one of the Rattler groups.
As he approached, one of the Rattlers spoke in a hollow, metallic voice. “Serfs are to stay indoors during curfew. Surrender yourself to the noble’s judgment. Anyone found near the gate will be considered drapetomaniacs and will suffer the noble’s judgment.”
Requiem shot forward, punching straight through the speaking Rattler’s visor and nasal bone. Hauling his weapon to the left, Cole smashed the skewered Rattler into one of its fellows, sending them tumbling in a gods-forsaken racket of clashing steel. Whirling his freed halberd around, Cole smashed its butt into the side of another Rattler’s knee. Natalie struck the fourth, or more accurately, two of her wolves pounced and carried the Rattler to the ground. Cole quickly decapitated each knocked-down soldier, disrupting the magic animating them.
Turning around, he found Natalie flowing between enemy attacks, lashing out with her claws as the wolfpack harried the Rattlers. One of the skeletons was knocked back by Natalie but not destroyed; recovering quickly, the Rattler lunged forward. Cole hurled Requiem like a javelin and smashed skeleton against a nearby wall. With a thought, Cole activated his telekine quartz and pulled Requiem back to him.
As Natalie kicked the downed Rattler’s head from its shoulders, she looked back at Cole with mild annoyance. “You stole that one from me.”
Cole pointed to the Rattler, her two wolves knocked down. “I’m not complaining about your aid. Also, remember these were once people’s remains; let's not treat this as a game.”
A little abashed, Natalie nodded. “You’re right, but it’s easy to get carried away when it comes to Eternal Soldiers; the damned things were a childhood fear of mine.”
Leaving the dispatched Rattlers, Cole and Natalie went deeper into the town. The quick movement of curtains or the flicker of an obscured lantern behind windows were the only signs Barlstine was still inhabited. The curfew spoken of by the Rattlers was not just strictly enforced but strictly followed. As they headed toward Barlstine’s heart, more signs of the recent occupation became clear. Bits of splintered bone and gristle sitting in blood stains, speaking of a Ghoul’s feast. Houses with smashed open doors and dark windows telling other tragic stories.
These and other marks of recent violence told a story someone like Cole could read. Barlstine fell fast, caught completely off guard, and unable to mount much more than a token resistance in the face of Vampires and their minions. Grimly, Cole wondered how many similar stories to this were repeating all across the Southern Marches.
A pebble hit Cole in the head then, whirling about, he tried to find the source. Natalie moved fast, flowing into an alley and grabbing a struggling person. Her hand clamped over the stranger’s mouth, Natalie asked. “And who might you be?”
Natalie’s prisoner was a gangly boy in the first awkward year of puberty. Upon seeing Natalie’s eyes, he started to struggle violently, only stopping when one of Natalie’s talons gently poked his throat. Reaching the boy, Cole held up his amulet and let a little silver light escape it. Natalie winced the tiniest bit, being this close to the light, and the boy’s eyes were locked onto the metal hourglass.
Calmly, slowly, Cole said. “I know we don’t look like it, but we are here to help fight the Leechs. Can you tell us who you are and what you were doing?”
Natalie freed the boy’s mouth, and his eyes darted around, looking for any escape. When none became apparent, he said. “I was trying to see if you were monsters or not. The Rattlers don’t react if you hit em with a pebble. We heard the commotion by the gate and… and thought someone got grabbed escaping. Then I saw you and wanted to know if you was a walking corpse or not.”
Cole nodded. “Brave, but foolish. Can you tell me where the Vampires are nesting?”
Eyes flicking to Natalie, the boy, said. “Mayor's mansion, at the town square by the… by the bodies.”
The boy looked a little sick then and Cole asked gently. “What bodies.”
Swallowing nervously, the youth rasped. “The Priests, Captain, and Wisewomen, the Leechs, traded their lives for all the kids. After the trade, they… they were ‘made an example of.”
Cole and Natalie exchanged looks, and in his lover’s eyes, he saw pure hate. Too much of this must have felt painfully familiar to her. Gesturing for Natalie to let go of the boy, Cole asked. “Are they keeping any more hostages?”
Jerkily, the boy shook his head. “No, the jaggers kept their word once they’d finished.”
Letting out a breath, Cole said. “I’m assuming you and the other residents have some way to keep in contact. Get to safety and tell who you can a Paladin is here to deal with the Vampires.”
The boy's eyes widened in shock, but his legs didn’t stay stunned for long. Watching him disappear down an alleyway, Natalie said. “What does making an example look like?”
Stoney faced, Cole replied. “They made one out of Isabelle.”
Halberd, in hand, Cole marched down the road, heading toward the town square. They ran into a cluster of wandering Ghouls and two more squads of Rattlers before reaching the center of Barlstine. The undead guards didn’t do much to slow Cole and Natalie down, more agitating them than anything else. As the last of the Rattlers fell dead, Cole sucked in a breath. “We are close.”
Natalie was staring at something in the darkness Cole couldn’t see. “We are here…”
Letting light flow from his amulet, Cole reached her and let out a foul oath as the town square came into sight. More of a clearing between buildings than a proper market plaza, the town square was roughly octagonal and empty except for the nine poles erected within it. Eight of the poles were positioned halfway between one of the town square’s corners and its center. The ninth sat in the middle, slightly taller than the others. Long ropes trailed between the tops of each pole, giving the vague impression of an unfinished great tent.
As if to parody the totems built into the town’s walls, each pole displayed an impaled corpse. The bodies were naked and withered, the look of a Vampire’s meal. Skewered from the groin to mouth, each of the desecrated bodies hung five or so meters above the ground. A jolt of horrible realization struck Cole then; the ropes connecting the poles weren’t rope; they were intestines.
In a weak voice, Natalie said. “I’m glad I can’t throw up anymore.”
Sucking in a deep breath, Cole said. “Coming here was the right thing to do. Thank you for insisting we did.”
Frost started to spread along Cole’s armor, and the head of Requiem glowed ever so slightly. Calling upon his mantle, the Paladin roared. “MAGNI! MORTAE! MUNDUS!”
As the battle cry echoed through the night, it was answered by a low groan. Two sets of doors on either side of the square opened, and a sea of bodies exploded out into the plaza. Close to a hundred Grinners ran toward Cole and Natalie, their jerky movements and wide smiles a parody of the revelers who might usually fill the square.
Glancing at Natalie, Cole asked. “Please get to some cover.”
She complied, dancing backward, out of the square, but sending four wolves to stay with Cole. Reaching to his belt, the Paladin pulled out a small clay bottle. Uncorking it, he linked the bottle to his quartz and, with an effort, hurled the bottle up and toward the approaching swarm. Cole put a little spin into the telekinesis so the bottle’s contents sprayed out in a great shower as it fell.
Opening a shallow cut on his arm, Cole smeared Requiem’s head and his spark-stone with blood. The Ghouls were almost upon him as he shot a spray of fire from his hand. Normally, such a pitiful gout of flames wouldn’t even stun the hunger-mad Ghouls. Which is why Cole spread an entire bottle of pyre-wine across the oncoming horde. Three drops of pyre-wine were usually enough to cremate a rotting corpse; a misting of the stuff was plenty to set a Ghoul on fire.
As Cole’s flames touched the first few Ghouls, they burst into flame, their dead flesh catching like tinder. Tongues of fire lept between Ghouls, spreading across the animated corpses with an eager hunger matching any undead. The four wolves at Cole’s sides shied away from the sudden heat as Cole drove Requiem into a burning Ghoul and tore the halberd up through its torso. As he struck, Cole focused on the blood he’d painted Requiem with. “Steel flash, flame lash!”
The fire from the burning Ghoul ‘stuck’ to Cole’s halberd, covering the head in a growing ball of fire. Channeling his icy power into Requiem’s hilt, Cole managed to keep the weapon from searing him as he slashed through more Ghouls, adding to the halberd’s fire coating with each strike. As Cole spun his weapon through the air, flames trailed behind it, becoming a whip of fire extending out in an incinerating scythe. Dead flesh burned, rotting blood boiled, and trapped souls were freed.
Cloaked in fire, barely kept at bay by his divine cold, Cole tore through the Grinners, every sweep of Requiem accompanied by a roiling tendril of blue-white flames. Soon, the ground around Cole was black with ash, the seared husks of Ghouls lying in charcoal piles. Breathing heavily, Cole balanced his magics the best he could. He’d thought of this technique to fight large hordes of undead some time ago, but he’d never actually got to practice it until now. The fact every breath he took burned or chilled him was testimony to the ‘experimental’ nature of the spell.
When only a score of badly scorched Grinners remained, Cole thrust Requiem upwards and released the spell, sending the fire up into the sky in a great ball of fire. As the roiling cloud faded and Cole blinked away the smoke, he realized new threats had entered the square: a phalanx of Rattlers and a trio of Flesh Golems. Rolling his shoulders, Cole sighed; things were going well so far, which told him he was due for more problems.
Natalie materialized next to him, her expression one of genuine shock. “How the in the hells did you do that?”
Pointing at the approaching undead, Cole said. “Later, can you help me with them?”
Nodding, Natalie called up twelve wolves, sending them in groups of three to flank around the sides of the next group of attackers. As she did, Natalie muttered. “I’m glad this outfit is fireproof; I could feel my exposed skin getting ashy just from the heat.”
Slowly walking towards the approaching phalanx, Cole said. “I only attempted that because it rained here recently; otherwise, I might have set the whole town ablaze.”
Picking up speed, Cole ran towards the Phalanx and leaped into the air; while he couldn’t jump over buildings like Natalie, his unnatural strength was enough to launch him over the line of pikes and into the formation. Trusting his wonderful new armor to take the impact, Cole smashed into a few Rattlers. Arriving in the middle of lockstep undead, Cole shrunk Requiem to a poleaxe and struck out at the disorganized Rattlers, tearing through armor with his weapon’s sharp beak. The tight formation of the Eternal Soldiers worked against them as they tried to reposition against this new threat. In a blur of steel and frost, Cole tore through his foes, assisted by a trio of wolves who never failed to catch an unbalanced Rattler.
Throughout the fight, Cole caught glimpses of Natalie’s work. Six wolves latched themselves to a Flesh Golem, slowing the stitched-together horror so Natalie’s shortsword and claws could carve it apart.
After a shockingly small amount of time, there was nothing left of the Rattlers and Golems but shattered bones, torn metal, and shredded flesh. Looking down at Requiem and the surrounding carnage, Cole muttered to himself. “Too easy, this is too easy.”
Natalie and her wolves approached Cole then. “I agree; where are the Vampires?”
Blinking in confusion, Cole took a moment to understand what Natalie meant. He’d been referring to how strong the pair had become, tearing through a undead warhost with ease. Natalie was wondering why they hadn’t been attacked by the Vampires during the fight, which was probably a more valid concern. Pointing Requiem in the direction the second force came from, Cole gestured at the large building squatting at the town square’s edge. “We should find out.”
Heading towards the mayor’s mansion, Cole and Natalie walked side by side, their weapons ready. Cole was mostly unharmed from the fight, his armor, and cold-hardened flesh shrugging off the few blows that caught him. In fact, his biggest complaint at the moment was dehydration; that much blood-fueled fire magic came with a cost. A couple of cuts decorated Natalie’s arms and legs. She’d already healed, but strips of ash-stained pale skin were visible in places. Cole decided to maybe, for the tenth time, to try and convince Natalie to wear proper armor.
The door to the Mayor’s mansion was open, and Cole sniffed the air as they went inside. Dark and seemingly empty, the mansion stunk of blood, sex, and fear, distressingly common smells when it came to Vampires. Natalie paused midstride and sucked in a deep breath, a gesture mimicked by her wolfpack in a display somehow both humorous and unnerving.
Frowning, Natalie said, “They aren’t here… That is unless they’ve got something to cloak their smell.”
Confused and unwilling to drop his guard, Cole scanned the battered foyer they currently stood in. “Could the boy have lied? Or was his information wrong?”
Shaking her head, Natalie explained. “No, two Vampires were here recently. They left minutes ago; if it weren’t for the scent trail leading outside, I’d say they were hiding somewhere in here.”
Even more confused, Cole pulled up his Aether sight and winced at what he saw. A torrent of terror, bloodlust, and fickle malice permeated the foyer. Sifting through these unfortunately expected emotions and the cloying aura of Necromancy, Cole found something incongruous. Smeared over the other emotions and magic was a thin but very fresh layer of shock, confusion, and uncertain fear. This fear tasted different than the wild panic of someone facing hungry monsters. No, this fear felt more like a startled predator, something dangerous and lethal, suddenly realizing it was woefully outmatched.
Frowning, Cole kept his power flowing, ready to summon up cold as he relayed his findings to Natalie. Ending his description with: “We need to be careful; if something could scare off the Vampires, it's certainly dangerous.”
Natalie looked at Cole with genuine bafflement; slowly, she said. “Love… what scared them was us. You tore through a hundred Ghouls with magical fire, and then we dispatched an entire phalanx of soldiers.”
The obvious truth he’d missed struck Cole, and he swore. “Jagged edges! Then we have more problems. They are probably running to the main army; we must catch them before they warn the main force.”
Natalie replied. “I’ll have the wolves check the town and send one to tell Mina what we are doing.”
Moving back to the front door of the mansion, Cole asked. “Even if we can track them, I don’t know if we can reach our quarry in time.”
Glancing down at the single remaining wolf at her side, Natalie said. “I have an idea.”