“By the fucking Nine,” Bernadette mutters, eyes wide.

She is sitting in her office (one of the back rooms of the barracks), staring up at Andrew Southgate, who stands awkwardly across the desk from her. The other six, the expedition members she sent out to Tarn’s manor, stand behind Andrew, all of them with varying shades of pride and smugness on their faces.

“Language,” Kaz chides softly.

Bernadette gives her an annoyed look, before once again turning her attention to the living ghost in front of her. The story the group had given her upon returning seems outlandish, but it is hard to dispute with Andrew standing right there. The Battle of Vorominsk is common knowledge, even among the lower class of Kattelox, due to the mythos surrounding it. The fact that one of the many lost was General Tarn Southgate’s son has always been a big part of said mythos and is one of the reasons Tarn was such a tragic, renowned figure in Loxian society.

It’s one of the reasons that Tarn received the compensation he did when the war ended. His popularity is one of the reasons that so many people were willing to come to the Heart of Vale and help with his manor, then stay and found Tarn’s Rest.

Without Andrew’s mysterious death on Phylerian soil, the odds of Bernadette–or anyone–ever coming to the Heart in the first place are low.

And, yet, here he stands, looking hardly any different than in the pictures taken of him shortly before his “death.” He is a bit paler, in far less formal attire, yet he seems somehow more charming in person. Considering the explanation given for him still being alive, or what passes for alive at least, perhaps the charm is not entirely to do with his handsome features. And since Bernadette has never been particularly attracted to men, Andrew is either an exception or a supernatural entity.

With his crimson-red eyes and elongated fangs partially visible within his awkward smile, she has reason to believe that it is, in fact, the latter.

“Let me get this straight: You want to help our little town?” She asks, as perplexed by his interest in helping as she is by the rest of the situation.

“I’ve been stuck in that basement for years. My father is gone, the war is over, I have no other family,” Andrew explains, staring at the floor thoughtfully. “At this point, my family’s legacy is here, with this town and the settlement of this continent. And, if I’m being honest, I don’t really know what else I would do with my time. All I know how to do is fight for the sake of others.”

Both Kaz and Bernadette give nods of understanding at his words.

“When all you know is the life of a soldier, it’s easy to feel lost during peacetime,” Kaz mutters.

“I won’t lie, we’re more short-handed than a charity drive run by a bunch of Faloth worshipers,” Bernadette jokes, earning a few snorts of understanding from the audience of seven. “A former soldier, one that’s a powerful vampire no less, would be a godsend. Except, well, about the ‘vampire’ thing.”

Seeing Bernadette’s look of concern, Dahlia steps forward and explains, “The notion that curses like these make people ‘evil’ is a myth. The only way they’re dangerous is if they wish to be, or certain circumstances occur. For Vampire Friend Andrew here, it is only if he becomes starved of blood that he loses control of himself.”

“Exactly my point. How are we supposed to feed him without organizing some kind of blood drive or letting him turn the entire town?” Bernadette asks.

Andrew looks down at Dahlia, who gives a small smile and nods at him. Bolstered by her support, he explains, “My father was working on a blood substitute just before he died. Dahlia and Addy managed to finish the formula; it seems like it works. It brought me out of my, uh, state and sated me.”

“The formula isn’t like, just blood with a spritz of citrus juice or something, is it?” Bernadette asks with a frown.

“It uses some pretty common ingredients used in alchemy and cooking!” Addy contributes.

“All of which is already stocked up here, or would be easy to ship in,” Demy adds.

Wren and Cashew cavort quietly for a few moments before Wren speaks up, “A day’s supply is about the same or less than how much most people spend on meals. A few copper per bottle, we think.”

“We could surely swing that,” Bernadette says, the feelings of surprise over everything the group have found slowly turning to feelings of relief, bordering on delight. The prospect of having someone competent to help her keep the town safe is certainly tantalizing, not to mention the fact that the others might be open to helping as well, at least until they have to leave.

I guess they proved themselves by putting this decade-long issue to rest. Not too shabby, she thinks.

“Oh, you don’t have to pay me. As long as you’re willing to make sure the ingredients for my, uh, food are always in supply, I’ll pay for it, also,” Andrew says.

“Wuh?” Bernadette stammers out, echoed by both Cashew and Wren.

“You–you’re willing to do this for free? Like, volunteer for it?” Wren asks incredulously.

“My father’s estate is largely intact–thanks in part to this settlement,” Andrew explains. “I have enough worth to live simply and afford the ingredients for several lifetimes, at least. For the time, anyway, it would make me happier just to help.”

Bernadette wants to smile from ear to ear with how this situation is turning out, but she manages to keep her poker face, albeit just barely. “If you are willing to volunteer, then we will gladly take you, Sir Southgate. I’ll personally make sure that you never have to worry about running out of ingredients for your–food,” she says.

“Maybe Mister Andrew could join in on the expedition, too!” Addy says optimistically.

“That might not be logistically possible, thanks to the sun,” Kaz reminds her.

“Even if we had a covered wagon or something?” Demy wonders aloud.

“We didn’t take a cart or anything because we didn’t know the landscape. Everyone just carried their own supplies,” Addy explains. “Maybe you could carry a coffin for him!”

“That sounds not very fresh,” Demy mutters, shaking his head.

Besides, I have dibs, Bernadette thinks, squinting at the others.

“Well, even if Andrew here is willing to do volunteer work, I believe we had an agreement,” Wren mentions, as nonchalantly as possible. Which is not very, in fact.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Bernadette straightens up in her chair and clears her throat before answering, “You’re correct. I admit, I didn’t expect the six of you to find anything, much less solve, well, the whole mystery and show up with the long-thought-deceased-and-technically-kind-of-actually-is Andrew Southgate. I’m impressed, but also grateful.”

“As am I,” Andrew adds.

“Considering our surplus of funds on top of everything else, I think you definitely deserve double what we agreed upon,” she finishes with a wry smile as she reaches under the desk and pulls out a large sack of coins, sitting it on the table with a small thud and the jingling of metal within.

“Oh we’re eating good tonight boys! And girls! And, uh, whatever Wren is,” Cashew cheers.

Dahlia turns to Addy, acting out the scene in her head: “Why yes hello Dapper Tavern Elf Person, I would like one of your finest meats please.”

Addy, playing along, bows politely and says, “Why yes madame, one of our finest imported meats, would you care for soup or salad as an accompaniment?”

“I care very much for I have lots of money,” Dahlia says with a toothy grin. This results in both giggling at their shared joke.

“I would like to match whatever the reward is,” Andrew says suddenly, smiling at the others. “I’ll have to procure it from the manor, of course, so it might be a few days.”

Surprised, Kaz assures him, “You don’t need to do that, my lord. The reward is already more than enough.”

Wren squeezes her arm hard enough that she absently pulls it from their grip, casting a sharp glance in their direction.

“Consider it a bonus for saving me. And an investment in your safety during this ‘expedition’ you’ve told me of, especially since I am unable to accompany you,” Andrew explains. “A stock of health elixirs and good equipment can be the difference between success and failure.”

“Some peace of mind would be plenty helpful,” Demy remarks.

“I suppose we can’t turn down such generosity. Thank you,” Kaz finally says, trying to ignore the sound of a high five between Cashew and Wren behind her.

The group procures their reward, which is hastily split into six portions by the duo most eager. Demy keeps an eye on them to make sure the split is even, while Kaz signs and finishes the official paperwork of temporary service required by the Loxian government funding this settlement.

Addy and Dahlia chat eagerly with Andrew as the seven ultimately leave Bernadette’s office and make their way back through the mostly-empty barracks, catching odd stares from the few guards within. Questions, most covering topics ranging from the people he has consumed to how he perceives the ambient temperature compared to the “living,” are hurled at the Vampire, who tries to respectfully address each one.

The group step out of the barracks and into the cold, dark streets of Tarn’s Rest; both the chill and the gloom are fought off by the large torches that line the main path from the main gate to the docks. Of the seven, six are going to head toward the Moonpeak Inn and fill Felix in on the day’s events before getting some much-deserved rest. Andrew, on the other hand, has decided to head back to Tarn’s–rather, his–manor.

“Are you certain it’s safe for you to go back alone, in the middle of the night?” Kaz asks, concerned.

“Compared to going in the middle of the day?” Andrew asks, chuckling.

“Oof. How’s the sabaton tasting?” Wren mockingly asks Kaz.

“Silence, Casual,” Kaz fires back, feigning indifference.

“It is dangerous, though. Do you even know what’s out there?” Demy asks, realizing that the topic of those–Failures hasn’t even come up between them and Andrew.

“I know of those humanoid creatures with the empty eyes and serrated teeth, yes,” Andrew answers. “They would occasionally wander onto the grounds of the manor, even before we finished it. We thought they were drawn by all the noise. I would handle night patrols when we were short-staffed, when I was still able to occasionally, discreetly leave the basement. I sustained more than a few injuries that would have killed me–again–were it possible.”

“Did you drink any of them?” Dahlia asks.

“I tried. Once,” he says, grimacing at the memory. “I don’t know what those things are, but they aren’t people. They don’t have blood, they have some kind of black ichor that runs through their body.”

“Yeah, it’s sticky and smells like sulfur!” Addy exclaims, having been covered in it during her dissection session back at the manor. “I hated it! I didn’t taste it, though.”

“You’re better off,” Andrew explains, shuddering.

“Wait, if you know about them, do you know about Kem?” Wren asks suddenly.

“Kem?” Andrew echoes, looking confused.

“He was one of those things, kind of. But he acted like a person,” Demy says, recalling the strange figure. “He was a head or more taller than I was with long, stringy, green hair, like vines or something. He had the same empty eyes and teeth and could make the same noises as those creatures.”

“He called them Failures,” Dahlia adds.

Andrew frowns and shakes his head, saying, “No. I would certainly remember if I did. Where did you meet him?”

“In the library of the manor,” Demy explains.

“Which is why we thought you might know something,” Wren says.

“Sorry, I have no idea. I certainly didn’t see such a person–thing?–and I don’t recall father ever mentioning one of the ‘Failures’ speaking or looking different than the others,” Andrew says apologetically.

“If you find out anything, please let us know,” Kaz says, holding her hand out once more to him, respectfully.

Andrew takes her hand, giving her an approving nod. He says, “Of course, my friends. Thank you again for giving me a chance, I will do my best to make good use of my situation.”

“Hey, so, if you ever decide to get rid of any of that nice stuff in your manor, Demy and I got some connections on the trade routes. Make sure you get a good deal, yeah?” Cashew explains. With a smirk, he adds, “Make some coin for both of us that way.”

Andrew chuckles and replies, “I will keep that in mind. It’s the least I can do for almost biting you, after all.”

Cashew feels his heckles raise and he stammers out, “W-well, you know, things happen. I’m glad they didn’t, though.”

“I would have felt bad. Though, the graveyard shift would certainly be less lonely,” Andrew says, giving a fanged grin.

“Cool, cool, yea–What?!” Cashew randomly calls out, cupping his hand over his ear to mime trying to hear better. “What’s that, Demy? Yeah I gotta go, there’s a, you know. Problem with some… stuff. ‘Kay bye,” he babbles before taking off toward the inn.

Demy, still standing with the group, just sighs.

“New fear unlocked,” mutters Kaz, watching him go.

“Well now we have to buy some toy bats to scare him with,” Wren says, putting their hands on their hips and smiling cruelly.

“Good-bye, Vampire Friend Andrew,” Dahlia says. “Stop by the inn in the evenings some time to eat dinner with us. Or breakfast, for you.”

“That way you don’t feel lonely or left out!” Addy says with a smile.

“I would like that, I think,” Andrew admits, delighted at the thought. He gives the group a final wave before walking off toward the far gate.

The group watches him go for a few seconds before Dahlia says monotonously, “We’ll never know if he charmed us into liking him.”

“Why would you even bring up something like that?” Wren whines as the group begin making their way toward the inn, following the footprints left by Cashew in his frantic escape.

“We should know that it’s a possibility,” Dahlia says.

“I would know,” Kaz says.

“Or do you only think that because he convinced you that you would know because he charmed you?” Addy ponders aloud.

“Maybe Cash is the only one that didn’t fall for the charm,” Demy mutters, causing Wren to groan even louder.

Continuing to argue about the possibility of them all falling under the Vampire’s spell, the group head toward the comfort of the Moonpeak, with the rest of the month until the Spring’s thaw to look forward to.