A hesitant knock on the door startled Patriel from his feverish slumber. He shuffled towards it, weakness clinging to him like a second skin. The door creaked open, revealing a figure that filled the doorway – Recker, taller and broader than ever.

"Uncle Pat," Recker boomed, his voice carrying the echo of the square outside. "Good to see you on your feet." His grin, though wide, didn't quite reach his eyes.

Patriel's throat felt tight. "Recker... are you alright?"

The warrior chuckled, a hollow sound that sent shivers down Patriel's spine. "Never better, Uncle Pat. Turns out, the Lord of Cachar needs a strong back in the kitchen." He gestured vaguely behind him. "Helping cook and dole out food for the whole town, free of charge."

A tray laden with steaming bowls hovered in the air, carried by another figure shrouded in dark clothing. Ollie, Patriel remembered with a jolt.

"Wheat porridge and bread," Recker continued, his voice taking on a strange, clipped tone. "Prepared in the square. Bring little Pat later to collect his share." His gaze flickered to Patriel's bony wrists. "Don't forget your identification. One portion per person, only with proper ID."

Patriel stared, his mind struggling to catch up. "You're... working for a vampire?" The words tumbled out, laced with fear and disbelief.

Ollie, emerging from the shadows, huffed. "Not just any vampire, Uncle Pat. A Holy Light vampire! See," he nudged Recker's arm, "Brother Recker manages the whole logistics department now. Food and such. Even gets paid ten silver pieces a month!"

Recker's smile faltered for a flicker of a second, a flash of something dark crossing his features before he plastered it back on. "That's right, Uncle Pat. Lots to do, gotta keep busy." He clapped Patriel on the shoulder, the weight heavier than usual. "See you at the square then."

Patriel's face contorted in disbelief, almost doubting his own hearing.

Patriel’s jaw hung slack, eyes wide with disbelief. "Vampires hiring humans for work… paying them?" he spluttered, sputtering a laugh that died in his throat. "Goddess of Life, this is beyond anything I imagined!"

Ollie, ever the showman, puffed out his chest and flung a leather bag onto the rickety table. It landed with a metallic thud, the jingling of coins echoing in the small room.

"See for yourself, Uncle Pat!" he declared, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Advance payment from the Lord of Cachar himself. Five silver pieces each for cookin' and food distribution, balance after a month."

He looked at Patriel expectantly, a smug grin tugging at his lips. "Told you it wasn't some crazy scheme, didn't I?"

Patriel stared at the bag, then back at Ollie, his mind reeling. "Free food in the square… and they pay you…" He trailed off, searching for words. "This is… unheard of! Not only do they offer charity, but they pay for it?"

A tremor of hope flickered in his chest, quickly doused by a wave of unease. Something about this whole situation felt… wrong. Vampires, paying humans, working alongside them? It defied everything he knew, everything he feared.

"But Ollie," he began, his voice thick with doubt, "why would they do this? Why pay humans when they could…" He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, the image of fangs and cold, lifeless eyes flashing in his mind.

Ollie shrugged, his grin fading slightly. "Dunno, Uncle Pat. Maybe they're tired of the bad reputation, or maybe they need the extra hands. Whatever the reason, it benefits us, right?"

Patriel remained silent, the weight of the coins and the unspoken fear heavy in his gut. This offer, this opportunity, it was tempting… but could he truly trust the creatures of the night, even if they called themselves "Holy Light"? He had to know more, to understand the truth before he allowed himself, or Patriel, to step into this strange, unsettling world.

"If this is a vampire conspiracy, it makes no sense. We have no means of resistance. Who would conspire against a group of defenseless sheep?

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"Our lives are in their hands."

Recker observed Patriel's expression with a mix of emotions, having experienced similar astonishment upon hearing the news.

"Uncle Pat, there's nothing in Dawn City worth the Holy Light Vampires' attention. If they simply took it, could we resist?

"Yet, the actions of Cachar's City Lord suggest they genuinely differ from the evil vampires.

"Goddess of Life, God once said that even grand conspiracies reveal their true colors with time.

"Since we cannot resist, we might as well join them. If they truly harbor ill intentions, we can promptly inform others.

"Uncle Pat, I know you are a respected warrior in York Town, and I hope you'll join me in this endeavor.

"Accepting the employment of Lord Cachar and becoming one of us is not just for ourselves, but also for the residents of York Town."

Patriel met Recker's gaze, his own filled with a mix of trepidation and a flicker of hope. The warrior's sincerity was undeniable, and Patriel's heart tugged with a conflicting blend of fear and a yearning for a better future.

"Perhaps you're right," he admitted, his voice raspy. "If we can't resist them, hiding in fear won't help. Maybe understanding them, even amidst the possibility of a conspiracy, is the only way forward."

His gaze shifted to the sleeping form of little Patriel nestled under a worn blanket. The child's peaceful breaths were a stark contrast to the turmoil within him. For him, for their future, Patriel knew he had to try.

"For the children," he said, his voice firming with resolve. "For a chance at a life free from constant fear. If this is a gamble, it's one I'm willing to take."

He looked back at Recker, a newfound determination etched on his face. "Let's do this. Let's see what these Holy Light vampires truly are, and if their intentions are as benevolent as they claim."

***

At the central square of Dawn City, despite the early afternoon hour, towering peaks cast shadows, blocking the sun.

Dawn City's design cleverly limited daily sunlight to three hours in the central and city wall areas, catering to the vampires' preference for darkness.

In the heart of the square, a crackling behemoth of a fire roared, sending tendrils of heat skyward. Five colossal pots bubbled and churned, their metallic bellies pregnant with boiling wheat. Nearby, an oven glowed ruddy, its warmth reaching out to embrace rows of golden loaves, ready to be devoured.

Hope crackled in the air, thicker than the woodsmoke drifting from the pyre. Refugees, notified by anxious whispers and hurried pronouncements, streamed towards the bounty, their faces a tapestry of wonder and cautious optimism.

Just weeks ago, the mere mention of these creatures, the vampires, sent shivers down spines and prayers trembling on lips. Promises of safety, of homes rebuilt, of food freely given - words as brittle as fallen leaves, easily scattered by the wind. Yet, here they stood, the evidence before their very eyes. No fangs bared, no threats issued, just fire, pots, and bread.

Doubt, though not entirely vanquished, retreated to the shadowy corners of their minds. Each fulfilled pledge - unmolested lives, repaired roofs, clean shelters, and now, this feast for the famished - chipped away at its edifice, leaving behind a nascent sense of bewilderment. This... this was not what they had been taught to fear.

If the vampires' words proved true, would they indeed receive the promised lands?

Subtly, many minds underwent a significant shift, particularly regarding land allotment, an act that ignited hope in their hearts.

While they understood the imprudence of associating with vampires, deemed more terrifying than demons, they couldn't resist the allure of possibility.

What if it were true?

What if, as the vampires claimed, they were Holy Light vampires, harmless to humans?

Humans are inherently prone to desire, especially the civilians residing on the Nolan Empire's borders, forgotten and marginalized.

Without land, they faced constant threats from monsters and orcs, with no protection from indifferent nobles.

These civilians had never experienced stability, making their longing for peace and security profound.

Even a glimmer of hope, however unlikely, was enough to sway them, even if it meant coexisting with vampires.

This is why Lord Cachar specifically selected border refugees. Only those who had endured turmoil and war would yearn for stability, and Dawn City offered just that.

He believed that under his leadership, Dawn City would eventually transform into a sanctuary for humans and vampires alike.

"Form an orderly line and present your identification. Each person is entitled to one portion of food. Anyone disregarding these rules forfeits today's food distribution."

Patriel, donning a red armband, led a team to maintain order.

"Uncle Pat, is this food really free?"

At the end of the line, a young boy in tattered clothes looked up with anticipation and longing in his eyes.

Patriel, momentarily stunned, responded with a gentle smile, reaching out to pat the boy's head.

"It's free, Rick. I'll ask them to give you an extra piece of bread later. Young lads like you need to eat well to grow tall."

"Uncle Pat, didn't the temple priest say that vampires are man-eating demons? Why are they giving us food?"

Confusion clouded Rick's young eyes.

"Because there are good and bad vampires, just like there are thieves and robbers in our town."

Patriel patted his shoulder and said, "Rick, you've witnessed the truth. Don't blindly believe everything you hear, even from a pastor."

As he watched the townsfolk leaving the square with happy faces, carrying bread and wheat porridge, he repeated the same words to himself.

Perhaps, Dawn City could indeed be a paradise for the residents of York Town...if the Lord of Cachar was being genuine.