CHAPTER: 35: FEAR, RESPECT, AND LOVE
“The exact number of Fell Gods is hard to quantify. But temple records, costly experiments, and divine portents have given us an estimate. Roughly six hundred and sixteen Fell Gods are active at any time, with their numbers swelling and shrinking as dictated by internal conflicts and external opportunities. Each of these metaphysical entities is significantly weaker than any of the Pantheon. Their ‘domains’ of godhood are much narrower than the Pantheon and encompass fewer concepts and, therefore, less power. More than once, a Fell God has attempted to upset this balance and achieve a broader dominion, but each time, they’ve been stopped by their rivals, both heavenly and infernal.”- Excerpt from the ‘Census of Infinity’
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The departure from Fort Carnum was a tepid affair. Despite Natalie’s concerns, Yara managed to leave her sick bed and reach the wagon without issue. Only then collapsing into the nest of blankets set aside for her. Nestled between luggage and supplies, the thrall slept through the tense farewells. Despite their arrival tipping the battle in the garrison's favor, the soldiers seemed glad to see the backs of Cole and Natalie.
The Paladin wasn’t particularly bothered by this; he was used to settlements being equally thankful for his arrival and departure. Natalie, though, didn’t like the looks the soldiers gave her as they left. It wasn’t just the undercurrent of fear and tension in the soldiers that distressed Natalie. She was used to that by now and knew to expect strangers to react like that. What truly bothered Natalie was her inability to discount their opinions anymore. In Vindabon and before the incident with Yara, Natalie could always armor herself with facts. She wasn’t a danger to people; she was a ‘nice’ monster; she was in control. After waking up in what was almost Yara’s icy tomb, Natalie wasn’t so sure anymore.
Still, despite the clear concerns shared between officers and soldiers, the garrison let them resupply and prepare for the next leg of their journey. That Mina left them with two barrels of the transubstantiated cure for future use did probably help matters. Cole shared his theory with Captain One-fist and his inner circle, and they took the news about the ancient wards relatively well. Even though the old Lictorum spells saved the garrison from plague; cultural taboos over the lost magic still held strong. Natalie didn’t know much about Lictorum other than that it was the Iskan Imperium’s backbone and was also what eventually destroyed the empire. Not the sort of thing a minor garrison who just survived a night of horrors wanted to think about.
Leaving the fort shortly before dawn, the group traveled east, finding the imperial road and taking its tesselating brick towards Turul’s Tomb. Sitting near the back of the wagon, checking on Yara and watching the sunrise, Natalie tried to keep her mind off of things. She’d not been present when the decision was made to plot a new course, and while Natalie understood that was merely a product of circumstances, she couldn’t help but wonder if other factors were involved. Was she being left out of important discussions because of what happened? Were even Natalie’s friends looking at her differently? While Natalie trusted Cole without a shadow of a doubt, a lesson the solstice ball carved into her, the same couldn’t be said for the others.
Earning Mina’s friendship after their icy initial contact had been a major achievement for Natalie, another of the mental crutches she kept herself standing with. If she could befriend someone who’d lost everything to vampires, then perhaps Natalie wasn’t like her kindred. Natalie knew using other people's opinions and behavior to judge herself wasn’t exactly the healthiest; as someone literally being corrupted from the inside by an ancient evil, other’s reactions were an excellent signpost Natalie couldn’t afford to ignore. That thought made Natalie’s mind circle back to the main source of her stress and exactly what she’d been trying to avoid thinking about.
The Rabisu waited, lairing inside Natalie’s soul like some insidious parasite, ready to burst free and start eating her loved ones. Hand going to her chest and the silent heart hidden beneath, Natalie felt scared and alienated. The sense of never knowing if or when she’d lose control was an old, horrible feeling Natalie thought long gone. Traveling through the spring fields, watching the road go by, Natalie got the strangest sense she was back to where things started. Not Glockmire, but those horrible months on the road with Cole. When she’d been one missed feeding away from madness and still reeling from the loss of, well… everything.
Memories of her father’s funeral came bubbling back up, and Natalie felt a lump grow in her throat. Seeing all the pyres of dead soldiers and destroyed ghouls had brought those memories back to the fore. Now, as she watched dawn-reddened clouds, Natalie was struck by a dark thought. There had been a beauty to her father’s funeral, a solemn celebration of an ended life. What would Natalie’s funeral be like? Would there be many people? Would it just be Cole and his tears? Would she even have a funeral? Or would it just be a celebration of the Alukah’s death?
Natalie hadn’t put much thought into her own death, even less after becoming a vampire. The sense of youthful immortality any twenty-year-old felt was only compounded by being a literally ageless monster. Now, after too many close calls and with this new threat looming, Natalie was confronted with her (limited) mortality and things worse than that. Just because Natalie died didn’t mean the power inside of her would. In fact, from the way Lord Glockmire, Master Time, and the jagging Rabisu spoke, Natalie could count on something horrible happening in the wake of her death.
Images of the Rabisu wearing her skin, butchering her friends flashed behind Natalie’s eyes. Only to be quickly replaced with vague notions of some bloody tide escaping her corpse to swallow cities. As her run-away imagination summoned up the sight of a weeping Cole holding her severed head in the middle of a battlefield, Natalie shook her head so hard she knocked against the wooden frame of the wagon’s covering.
“I didn’t think you would have to worry about mosquitos.” said a voice from nearby, and Natalie looked up to see Alia walking a little behind and to the wagon's left. The city warden wore a sour expression and had surprisingly large bags beneath her cat eyes.
Shaking her head a little less vigorously, Natalie said. “No mosquitos, just bad thoughts. Hey, why aren’t you upfront with Mina or ahead of the horses with Cole?”
Glancing over her shoulder, back the way they came, Alia sniffed. “I’ve been wondering that since the second time the horses shit all over the road. With the way the wind is, it's better for me to be back here to sense something. Besides, Cole’s doing the whole ‘glowing eye trick’ up front, and I doubt anything nasty can get past him.”
“Ah,” replied Natalie, unsure what else to say. After a moment of staring at Alia’s grumpy countenance, Natalie asked. “Didn’t sleep well?”
Spitting a wad of phlegm onto the tesselating road, Alia said. “There's a storm coming, and that always jags with me.”
Gesturing up at the red clouds overhead, Alia elaborated. “Red skies at morning, ranger takes warning. That's what my dad always used to say.”
Natalie snorted. “My uncle used the same saying, except shepherd instead of ranger.”
Still frowning at the clouds, Alia shrugged. “I bet the adage changes wherever you are.”
Thinking of Barnabas and his cantankerous wisdom filled Natalie with another wave of melancholy. Deciding that stewing in her sense of loss wasn’t good, Natalie jumped off the back of the wagon and joined Alia.
A crossbow hung from the city warden's back, and a pair of long knives dangled from her belt. She wore an odd coat that seemed to mix a woodsman’s dress and a warrior’s jerkin. Signifier patches of the Vindabon guard were sown to the breast and shoulder, marking Alia’s occupation and loyalties. The dark, earthy colors of Alia’s clothes matched her rich brown skin tone. Natalie guessed her cat-blooded friend had recent ancestry from the southern continent but never asked for details. Traveling with the Shohgards had provided Natalie a limited education about werefolk. So she knew most werelion and werecat bloodlines came from Sutu. Something Alia’s feline eyes and dark skin testified.
Eyeing Natalie, Alia asked. “Why are you staring at me like that?”
Shaking her head, Natalie apologized. “Sorry, just getting lost in thoughts.”
Flexing one arm so the toned muscle showed beneath her sleeve, Alia smirked. “What, not used to seeing a gal built like me?”
Rolling her eyes, Natalie felt one corner of her mouth twitch. “Clearly, you don’t know how tough mountain women are. Chopping wood and shoveling snow keeps you in good condition even in winter.”
Answering Natalie’s half smile with a full one, Alia said. “Oh, so you are hiding some muscle under those curves of yours? Here I thought all there was to you was wide hips and nice tits.”
A little shocked by Alia’s crude words, Natalie felt her smile broaden. “Thanks, my mom gave them to me.”
Alia cackled, and Natalie couldn’t help but laugh as well. While young women were a bit more subtle about it than their masculine counterparts, ribald humor was something shared between genders. Recovering herself, Alia playfully punched Natalie’s shoulder and said. “Cole must love getting you out of those frilly dresses you always wear.”
Looking down at the mountain garment she wore, Natalie scoffed. “They aren’t frilly! They are practical! It gets cold where I come from, so layers help!”
Raising an eyebrow, Alia replied. “Like that matters to you anymore. You could have bought a whole wardrobe of proper clothing in Vindabon. Instead, I’ve only seen you wear heavy skirts and long-sleeved bodices!”
Deciding there was no winning this conversation, but unwilling to surrender, Natalie said. “I like my clothes. They are warm, soft, and help me look good; what else do I need from them?”
Shaking her head in mock disgust, Alia said. “Stop dressing like a rural peasant! You know everyone back in Vindabon can tell you aren’t native just from a glance, right?”
Slowly becoming a little annoyed, Natalie snapped back. “Not a peasant, a person of my hometown.”
Hearing the hint of venom in Natalie’s voice, Alia raised her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. I was just trying to make conversation.”
Natalie’s barmaid intuition hadn’t died with her, and something about this back-and-forth suddenly felt off. “What are you trying to do, Alia?”
Surprise, faux indignation, and finally, cool consideration crossed the catblood’s face. “Distract you the best I can. Shit got nasty back at the fort, and I… well.”
Gesturing at her eyes and teeth, Alia said. “I get what it's like to have people treat you like some rabid animal. I’ve traveled through parts of the Holy League and been to places not so ‘enlightened’ as Vindabon.”
Memories of the riot and attacks on werefolk back during winter filled Natalie’s mind. Things had settled down in Vindabon after the Heart-stealer breathed his last, but there were still scars from what House Louon unleashed. It hadn’t taken much for the undercurrent of fear and prejudice to rear its head in even a progressive and diverse city. Natalie really didn’t want to think how more remote and insular villages might react.
Seeing that Natalie understood her meaning, Alia continued. “I’m trying to treat you like a person, not some dangerous creature. So for me, that means talking jagged and being an ass.”
To punctuate her remark, Alia playfully slapped her own toned rear. “Look, I’m not good at this touchy-feely shit, but hells, I’m still going to try.”
Nodding, Natalie said. “Thank you.”
Then, after a moment, she added. “Are you scared of me?”
Alia scoffed. “Of course I am!”
Natalie was too stunned even to reply, so Alia continued. “You’re the Alukah! I’m not exactly devout like either of our partners, but I’ve read the Book of Miracles and have an idea of what would happen if you lost it. And, as if that wasn’t scary enough, now you are saying the fucking Rabisu is squatting inside you like a damned tapeworm!”
Gesturing wildly, Alia said. “I’d be a fucking moron not to be scared of you, Natalie! But so what? Fear is part of life, and learning to deal with it is what we’re supposed to do. I’m afraid of the danger you represent, and because I don’t have shit between my ears, I respect that danger.”
Suddenly, Alia stopped to pull up one pant leg till her upper thigh and the ugly scar on it were exposed. Long hours of tracing Cole’s body had given Natalie insight into scars, and she recognized the nasty claw wound marking Alia. Pointing at the discolored skin, the catblood explained. “Bears scare me. They are too big, too strong, and too jagging smart. So my idiot teenage self tried to hunt one that was wandering near my clan’s campsite. I thought killing it would make me brave. Instead, I nearly got eaten by the fucker after only pissing it off.”
Letting her pant leg fall and walking a little faster to catch up with the wagon, Alia said. “After that jag up, I learned to respect things I fear. If I’d left the bear alone, it would have left me alone. Sure, if the bear were an active threat, then the situation would be different. But I went and literally poked the bear and got a large set of claws in me for my trouble.”
Pointing a finger at Natalie, Alia finished her speech. “I’ve got no interest in poking you, but I’ll fight to protect myself or others if I have to. Gods willing, neither of us gets stuck in that situation, and I can just keep respecting you as a friend and possible nation-destroying monster.”
Finally finding her words, Natalie asked. “Teasing me about my clothes is how you respect me?”
Alia nodded. “Yeah! I’m treating you like a fucking person, which is what respecting you looks like.”
Thinking through all this, Natalie slowly said. “Thank you.” then, after a moment's consideration. “You are smarter than I thought.”
In response, Alia just smiled and made a rude gesture.
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They stopped to set up camp right as dusk came. Pressing as the mission was, traveling after dark in lands besieged by the undead would be courting disaster. Still, from Mina and Kit’s reading of their maps the group was making good time. It would only be a few days until they reached Turul’s Tomb. Kit’s enchantments to the cart and their more direct route let the group cover a surprising amount of ground.
Taking a more traveled road came with other advantages; instead of a forest clearing or fallow field, the group camped in the shadow of a wayside shrine. Little larger than a shed, the open-walled wooden pavilion was a blessing to any travelers who might find it. A rusted but serviceable well stuck from the shrine’s rear, and a stone firepit sat nearby. The bushes and trees surrounding the rest stop were all fruit-bearing or otherwise medicinal. Not much use this early in spring, but still a clear sign of the shrine's purpose.
Standing under the pavilion roof, feeling the faint itching tingle of protective magic reacting to her presence, Natalie stared up at the shrine’s saint. Carved from wood was a statue depicting a thin man with short curly hair and an easy smile. Carried in one arm was a lute, and in the other hand a walking stick. On the statue’s plinth was a simple inscription.
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‘Saint Bacho: wander where you wish, stay where you must.’
Natalie didn’t know the saint but could guess he was a holy bard of some kind. Probably a follower of Uncle Trickster who did enough good to end up a Seraph in death. Turning away from the statue, Natalie wondered at the Seraph-touched woman who’d roused ancient wards and defended an entire army against the plague. Unlike Changelings and more mundane hybrids, Seraphbloods and Demonbloods weren’t actually offspring of a Beyonder parent. They were instead infused with a measure of holy or unholy power while still in the womb. Mutating the fetus in their metaphysical progenitor’s image.
The idea of such blessed and cursed scions disturbed Natalie. It was one thing for an adult to willingly or unwillingly take up a holy mantle or experience a twisted transformation. It was another for a child, a baby, to be born into the world already shaped by powers so far beyond mortal understanding. Natalie credited the fact she remembered being human and what that entailed as a large part of what kept her well, humane. For someone to come into existence already so shifted just felt wrong. What choice or chance did someone have if the moment they first opened their eyes, some Beyond-born impulse dominated their mind?
A voice from behind Natalie called. “Are you ready?”
It was Cole, and his words barely disturbed Natalie’s musings, only adding to them. While she didn’t like to think about it, Cole was a prime example of a being shaped by another’s intent before they even properly existed. Some of what Isabelle shared about Cole’s origin and habits came bubbling up into Natalie’s mind. While the older vampire insisted Cole’s abnormal nature didn’t rob him of free will or truly shackle him, Natalie had her doubts.
“Natalie?”
Cole stood maybe a meter before her, a look of concern creasing his scarred face. Reaching out and taking one of her hands, he said. “It will be okay.”
Looking past Cole towards the ritual circle Mina and Kit were putting the finishing touches on, Natalie wasn’t so certain. After talking with Alia while on the road, Natalie had put a lot of thought into what the brash catblood said. About how respect and educated caution were the healthy evolution of fear. Buoyed by the unexpected wisdom, Natalie spoke with Cole about potentially answering some of their more troubling questions.
Natalie wanted to try contacting Isabelle again to pick the older vampire’s brain and see if the Rabisu would attack. Living in fear of the lurking horror inside of her wasn’t going to work, so Natalie needed to learn what the limits and dangers of this new paradigm were. While Alia complained that Natalie was interpreting her words in the worst possible way, Natalie felt this was the correct step. Besides, the bear was already awake and ready to take bites out of people Natalie loved. Avoiding poking the metaphorical ursine wasn’t an option; learning its strengths, weaknesses, and how to handle it was the best choice.
To that end, Cole, Kit, and Mina had done their best to ensure no harm could come from this investigation. In a patch of ground cleared of plant life, a perfect circle was cut into the soil by Kit’s precise hand. Salt was poured into the circle’s tiny trench, and sigils flowed from the outer edge, giving the ritual space the vague appearance of an occult sunburst. A bucket of prepared holy water sat in the wayside shrine, taking advantage of the structure’s Aetheric resonance to keep it blessed. Nearby, Alia mashed freshly cut garlic, swearing to herself the entire time. Half a dozen tent stakes had been sharpened and inscribed with runes of binding, ready for grim use. Then, as if all this wasn’t daunting enough, Cole was wearing his full panoply of war, and his skin was deathly cold with prepared power.
If the Rabisu tried to take control of Natalie or otherwise cause problems, it would find many nasty surprises waiting for it. Still, Natalie couldn’t help but have doubts. Seeing this on her face, Cole let one of his hands drift to Natalie’s neck and the silver mark there. It hadn’t completely faded after its last activation, and faint lines covered blackened veins. Touching the stigma, Cole said. “With your mark and our preparation, everything will be fine.”
Nodding, Natalie found Cole’s hand and kissed his fingers, hating how cold the usually warm flesh felt. “Let's get started then.”
Entering the circle, carefully stepping over the intricate ritual marks, Natalie sat down, her legs folded beneath her. Collecting Cole's offered amulet, Natalie held it in both hands, ignoring the numbing chill the blessed metal carried. Cole gently tied her hands, binding them with a soft but sturdy cloth so she couldn’t let go of the medallion. With the hallowed trinket dulling her arms, it would take a noticeable effort to escape the amulet. A joke about finding another time to experiment with such acts formed on Natalie’s lips but died as Kit came into view, carrying a sturdy lockbox.
Bought from Fort Carnum’s quartermaster, the container was Isabelle’s new home, replacing the one Natalie smashed. Squeezing Natalie’s bound hands, Cole retrieved the lockbox from Kit and opened it, taking out the cracked vampire skull and setting it before Natalie. This was the first time Natalie properly saw Isabelle after the incident, and a pulse of guilt flowed through her. The large fracture spread from one eye socket up Isabelle’s brow and towards the crest of her skull.
Meeting the empty sockets, Natalie said. “I’m ready.”
Shutting her eyes, Natalie called upon the psychic bridge connecting her to Isabelle, offering a silent prayer to a certain God as she did.
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Natalie opened her eyes and sucked in a nervous breath. She stood among red lilies, the once familiar sight rendered sinister by recent experiences. Within her own mindscape, Natalie looked around, seeking any other alterations or threats. The fang tree was still there, but the storm clouds had mellowed into the stark overcast of deep winter. Snowflakes still fell from above, covering the ground in a sheet of white. The red flowers stuck out of the snow, giving the appearance of countless blood drops upon pale skin.
Growing claws and marshaling her psychic defenses, expecting to be attacked at any moment, Natalie cautiously moved towards the stream that flowed through her mindscape. Pieces of stained ice floated upon the creek, carried downstream to some other metaphor Natalie hadn’t yet explored. As she approached the stream, an ice jam snapped and popped, filling Natalie’s mind with the familiar song of deep winter. A large chunk of ice caught in the jam cracked then, splitting upwards and sending a shower of fragments everywhere as a familiar figure emerged from the creek.
Isabelle Gens Silva did not look her usual imperial self while climbing out of a half-frozen stream. Natalie started reaching for Isabelle to help, but the changes to the older vampire stopped her. Cracks ran along Isabelle's body, fracture lines that covered skin, clothes, and hair in defiance of logic. On more than one occasion, Natalie compared Cole’s appearance to some vandalized statue of antiquity; now Isabelle almost matched him, resembling a work of marble beauty shattered and then glued back together.
Seeing Natalie’s shock, Isabelle bared her fangs. “Admiring your handiwork?”
Shame, guilt, and confusion flowed through Natalie. “Cole said you weren’t hurt!”
Finding herself, Natalie moved forward, voice pitching higher with fear. “Oh, gods! I’m so sorry, what can I do-”
Cutting Natalie off with a gesture, Isabelle said. “You did this to me! You stupid peasant! My very soul is falling apart thanks to your ugliness!”
Advancing on Natalie, Isabelle jabbed a finger into her student’s breast. “How greedy and foolish must you be? To eat not one, but two of our kind! If you were a normal Vampire, then the hallucinations and whispers would be bad enough. But no! You woke up the Rabisu and nearly killed me!”
Taller than Natalie, Isabelle loomed over the younger Vampire, eyes wild with righteous fury. “I barely brushed the monster sleeping inside you, and it did this to me! What do you think will happen as it grows stronger? Which of your friends do you think it will eat first? How many times will you murder Cole again before something puts you down!”
A cruel backhand struck Natalie, and she fell onto the snow, stunned and horrified. “In fact, why are you even here? The last time you tried to speak with me, the Rabisu did this!”
Gesturing at her cracked body, Isabelle continued. “It could wake any second and finish me off. Then where would you be? No, I won’t be another corpse left in the wake of your blundering! Leave me! Leave Cole, and find some hole to bury yourself in! It worked for the last Alukah; it should work for you!”
Confused, feeling her heart crack like Isabelle’s flesh, Natalie pulled away from the raging Vampire. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
Arms wide, Isabelle screamed. “This is what you always do! You leap into danger and let others pay the blood-price for your stupidity! Your father, your neighbors, Cole, the Shohgards, Yara, and now me!”
The cracks on Isabelle’s left arm widened, and the limb fell apart, landing on the ground in a shower of frozen gore. Staring at the stump, eyes wide and furious, Isabelle roared. “This is what you are, Natalie! A stain of pain and grief that spreads and spreads to everyone you touch!”
Shaking her head in disgust, dislodging a chunk of her cheek, Isabelle said. “It’s all you are good for, isn’t it? Spreading tragedies and feeling sorry for yourself. This new life you’ve made for yourself in Vindabon? It’s a lie, a delusion that will fall apart the moment you lose control again! Hells! You don’t even need to lose control; the Rabisu will take it! Then, if the world is still here in a thousand years, your name will be spoken of like Eresh or Annoch!”
Each of Isabelle’s words was like a knife, rammed into Natalie’s heart with more force and cruelty than any wooden stake. Staring up at the collapsing Isabelle, Natalie felt like her mind was doing the same thing, crumbling along deep fault lines now exposed. Fears and insecurities, old and new, known and unknown, were given a terrible voice by a woman Natalie loved. Loved as a teacher, a friend, a mentor, a colleague in affection, and perhaps more. Despite everything, Natalie had grown to trust and care for the old monster, and to have those emotions returned with such venomous hate hurt worse than words could express.
Another voice suddenly cut through the wintry landscape, coming from behind Natalie. “Well, this is certainly disturbing.”
Spinning about in confusion, Natalie saw another Isabelle, this one intact, standing a few meters away. In one hand, the new Isabelle held a spear of carved ice, and instead of her usual dress she wore the armor Natalie saw used against the Redcap. Marching over the snowy ground, lilies seeming to part for her, Isabelle moved past Natalie and approached her shattered counterpart.
With a twirl of the spear, the armored Isabelle smashed its butt into the fractured Isabelle’s face. Chunks of hardened flesh fell away, and Natalie stared at what lay underneath with dawning horror. A fanged skull covered in oily black worms stared out at Natalie with baleful eyes of stolen blood. The worms, no veins, started to undulate and grow, forming flesh and skin atop the skull. As short hair sprouted from a marble scalp lined with obsidian, Natalie knew what had happened. The Rabisu failed to destroy Natalie with pure strength, so now it tried another method.
The Queen of Akzad stared up at Isabelle with those nightmarish eyes, its mouth opening, ready to drip more poison. Isabelle Gen Silva did not give the first vampire the chance. In a move of artful brutality that reminded Natalie what exactly her mentor was, Isabelle rammed the ice spear up into the Rabisu’s chest cavity. Striking up from beneath the ribs, Isabelle lifted and impaled Eresh of Akzad upon the crystal weapon. A point of glittering sharpness punched through the Rabisu’s upper back, sticking through its trapezius like a giant’s arrow. Hosting the first vampire up, Isabelle let the spear’s butt rest upon the ground, its shaft going from diaphragm to scapula. The grisly display reminded Natalie of Isabelle’s death, and judging by the stoney expression on her mentor’s face, she wasn’t the only one who noticed the similarities.
Throughout all of this, the Rabisu didn’t make a sound, no screams, no cries, no furious roars, and somehow that was worse than any dire curses or fell invocations. Eyes transfixed by the twisted sight before her, Natalie watched as roots of ice spread from the spear's butt and crystalline branches pushed out of the Rabisu’s flesh and wrapped around its trapped form. Soon, in the place of a spear was an entire tree, impaling and enclosing the Rabisu in unnatural ice. Wide drooping branches expanded into a canopy, and soon, strings of layered frost dripped over and down those crystal limbs.
Finally finding her voice, Natalie said. “A willow?”
Staring at the ice tree now standing by the riverbank, Isabelle corrected her student. “A weeping willow. The gods are ever melodramatic.”
Dusting her hands as if she were wiping away filth, Isabelle stared at the icy tree. “That should keep her contained, for now.”
Looking at Isabelle, watching her armor turn into normal clothes, Natalie slowly got to her feet. “What happened?”
Finally, looking at her student, Isabelle's cold expression softened slightly. “I’m sorry for not arriving sooner and giving that parasite time to act. The thing squatting in your mind is working hard to keep you to itself. I couldn’t use the bridge between us without risking being torn apart.”
Crossing her arms and speaking with undisguised disgust, Isabelle continued. “To subjugate, one must isolate, violate, and manipulate your victim. An ugly adage but painfully truthful. I don’t know if it's trying to torture you into surrendering your body or just hoping to break you, but either way, it won’t succeed.”
Eyes suddenly alight with anger, Isabelle snarled. “This parasite dared use my face and my voice, to hurt my student! That will not be tolerated.”
Stepping towards the trapped Rabisu, wrath kindled into a raging inferno, Isabelle continued. “Know this, you wretched metaphysical vermin! I am the greatest minds of this Epoch! My genius has mastered life, defied death, and created immortals! I will not forget such an insult to me and mine! I will tear you down from your rotting throne and dissect anything that survives the fall! All of your secrets and all your power will be taken from you! This I swear by my name and will!”
Seeing this, Natalie felt her cracked heart start to mend, and a sob escaped the scared Vampire. Before she even knew what she was doing, Natalie rushed over to Isabelle and wrapped shaking arms around her mentor. Pressing her face into Isabelle’s collar, Natalie cried. Wet, racking sobs escaped Natalie, and after a few tentative moments, Isabelle returned the hug. They stood like that for a time. Isabelle was clearly uncertain how to comfort Natalie but was still attempting to try.
An overpowering sense of exhausted relief and other more complicated emotions flowed through Natalie. When finally the worst passed, Natalie pulled back slightly, not letting go of Isabelle but moving to see her face. “Thank you.”
Clearly uncomfortable, Isabelle made an almost Cole-like shrug. “You needed my help.”
Mind reeling with everything that happened, Natalie did something impulsive. She kissed Isabelle.
Warm and cool lips met each other for a few seconds, and suddenly realizing what she was doing, Natalie pulled back, flustered, embarrassed, and more than a little guilty. Isabelle, for her part, was completely stunned, not even blinking as she stared at Natalie with undisguised shock. Letting go of Isabelle, Natalie found she couldn’t meet her friend’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I… I”
Isabelle reached out then and put a hand on Natalie’s cheek, rubbing away one of the drying tears. “Well… that was unexpected but not… unappreciated.”
Sucking in a breath, in an unusual display of nerves, Isabelle said. “I suppose it's only fair. If we are to share Cole perhaps he can share you with me.”
Fidgeting where she stood, feeling her cold body warm with the blush her mind expected, Natalie said. “I didn’t know you were… well interested.”
Isabelle raised an eyebrow. “I’m centuries old; I’ve enjoyed romances and dalliances of all kinds. Most Vampires expand their palate as they age, and you certainly are beautiful.”
Shaking her head, Natalie said. “No, I mean, you’ve always been so dismissive of me. Cole said his ability to match you in philosophy was what caught your romantic attention.”
Isabelle’s other eyebrow joined the first as she said. “I thought Cole was being a soft-hearted fool when he first fell for you, but… as time has gone by, I’ve seen your appeal. Besides, if I was only interested in people who could match my wits, I would be stuck trying to seduce Leonid Lupa.”
A snort of laughter that turned into a hiccup escaped Natalie. “I’m sorry for falling apart like that. It's just been a lot and… well, having someone you care for save you from a literal nightmare is…”
Dismissing Natalie’s apology with a wave, Isabelle glared back at the trapped Rabisu. “That thing struck every mental weak point you have while wearing the face of a close companion. It's waging a war on you, Natalie, seeking to break your will for some dark purpose.”
Shuddering slightly, Natalie looked at the ice willow, seeing the Rabisu’s shadow within the enchanted ice. Isabelle’s voice, slow and unusually measured, asked. “But, I should ask you the same thing. Why would someone like you be interested in me? Was it just the stress, or…”
Turning back towards Isabelle, Natalie blinked at what she saw. A new expression colored the old monster’s face, one that took Natalie a moment to decipher. Isabelle was unsure of herself and racked by self-doubt. It was so out of character Natalie briefly wondered if this was yet another doppelganger.
Deciding any believable mimic wouldn’t ever have Isabelle show such vulnerability, Natalie said. “You didn’t betray me. You’ve had opportunities and motives galore to steal my body, subvert me somehow, or generally make my life worse. Despite our… squabbles, you’ve helped me and been a good teacher and confidant. No one else knows what it's like to be a Vampire, at least no one else I trust.”
Isabelle’s composure cracked then; the old aristocrat sucked in a shuddering gasp, and she whispered. “I have betrayed you.”
Unable to meet Natalie’s eyes, Isabelle spoke her confession. “I fully intended to steal your body, Natalie. I’d even started the process and planned how to take control of you. I was even going to alter Cole’s mind! Remove his memories of you! I was going to take the Alukah’s power, your flesh, and everything else I could!”
Natalie could almost physically see Isabelle’s self-control shatter. The mask of cold undead countess splintered under internal stress and revealed the guilt-ridden woman. Seeing Isabelle like this felt wrong to Natalie, like she’d stumbled into someone's dressing room. The strangeness of the sudden fracturing was almost enough to distract Natalie from the dread confession Isabelle spoke.
Dry sobs escaped Isabelle, her mind so removed from mortality she didn’t properly cry inside of an illusion. “I’m so sorry! I should have told you this before, but I’m a fucking coward. When you started to trust me, when you started to care, I… I couldn’t do it. You don’t deserve that horror, and I don’t deserve another chance, especially one built on your bones.”
Slowly, finding her words, Natalie said. “You’re right, you don’t deserve that.”
Flinching at the coldness in the words, Isabelle refused to look at Natalie and didn’t see her student approach. So when Natalie’s forehead rested against Isabelle’s shoulder, it was a complete surprise. “You don’t have the right to steal my body or anyone else, but you do deserve a second chance. I’m going to do my damn best to help you get that chance. Master Time said my story could have a good ending, and I think you should be part of that, Isabelle. “
Slowly, tentatively, the two women embraced. Much was still left unsaid, but in that simple moment, tender silence was all that was needed.