It was easy to say that mortal lives were fragile. Of course, if I died, then I would cease to exist, other than being a bad taste in a few mouths and some bloodied pages of the history of the world. There were a select few Monsters or Villains that could come back to life, but even that had limitations. The harsh truth was that everything eventually ended and became dust. Humans may be closer to the fly banging at the window than I was, but in the end - the end was just that.
“Did the horse have a name?” Florence stroked at the animal tethered to the front of our small wagon.
“I didn’t think to ask,” Basil shrugged, “but I’m not sure it’s a full horse.”
“Just a partial horse,” I nodded, giving him a grin as he narrowed his eyes at me. The long closed-up bud of my social life had begun to flower, and I was getting a taste for all the vibrant colors it could offer.
“Let’s call you… Petal…” the Mage whispered to the almost bronze-colored beast. A mane of dark grey and splotches of darker brown gave it a unique look. Animal husbandry was not one of the many skills I had mastered.
Jakob was sitting slouched in the back of the wagon; a hooded cloak pulled most of the way over his face. Nursing a hangover. I was pretty sure that Basil could do something to heal it, but sometimes lessons needed to be learned the hard way. In my younger years, I had definitely overindulged in… everything and paid some consequences for the folly. A headache was a lot nicer than whatever we would be facing later in the day.
“All packed up, Basil?” I gripped the side of the rough wooden wagon. It was a lighter, pale wood - again, unlike that of most of the town. Perhaps the wagon was imported, or the previous owners were some of the unlucky ones when it came to the beasts supposedly roaming the forest.
“Victor.” He nodded his head, still wanting to call me Sire. “I was able to procure a Healing Potion each, and hopefully enough Antidotes for whatever evil the plants have in store for us.”
I worked my jaw and looked out to the woods past the town, that seemed to stretch out to the horizon. Undead plants… There was something novel about the idea. I had met - and even fostered - necromancers who raised zombies, skeletons, or ghosts. Even some who specialized in certain other undead creatures. But plants had piqued my interest.
Depending on how they were controlled, they could certainly be a hindrance - fatally - for the unwary. Even with my muted imagination, I could see vines, poisonous leaves, and carnivorous bulbs. I was starting to wish I had fire abilities too.
“Let’s get set off then. The motion should definitely help Jakob rethink his choices.” Florence stuck her tongue out at the groaning Ranger as she walked behind me to climb aboard the wagon.
“Obviously didn’t have enough of emptying his stomach yesterday already,” Basil agreed, extending his hand to help her up. “Good thing I brought extra rations.”
“Can’t fight with hunger ravaging at you,” I mused, mostly to myself, as I looked back to the town. Something was off, but I couldn’t quite place it. The burning in my chest had abated over the night, and now I just felt uncomfortable. Basil had a similar reaction, but apparently not as scorching.
“Very true.” His voice snapped me out of my glazed-over stare at the gloomy town.
I turned and climbed aboard the wagon, noticing how the whole thing creaked under my weight. “Rude,” I chastised the wooden contraption. “Who is guiding the… Petal?”
“Flo is better with animals than she is with peop-ow,” Jakob relented as the Mage kicked his leg.
“I have some experience with horses,” she offered. “Although not so great with a map.”
“Allow me to assist, Miss.” Basil rubbed his chin. “We only need to take two diversions after an hour on the main road - so I will avail you the details when necessary.”
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“Alright then,” she nodded, “but there’s no need to call me Miss.”
I watched as Basil gave a smile of acknowledgment but knew how much he was grimacing on the inside at having to give up another of his learned mannerisms. In truth, my butler had taken well to this life - better than I had expected. Perhaps he was always closer to being a normal human than I ever would be.
To try and balance our weight, I sat on the opposite side to the Cleric and Ranger. Immediately, just as Florence sat on the front bench and took the reins, I was assaulted by my own mind conjuring up questions. The wagon rocked as the beast of burden started off down our trail, the wheels vibrating over the cobbled road.
“Does the Guild pay us gold for the Quests?”
Jakob sighed and pushed his hood back, bringing the assault of the overcast morning into his tired eyes. “No.”
“How are Rankers supposed to get by then?” I ran my fingers through my beard in an attempt to scratch the hidden chin.
“Loot mostly, or Side-Quests.” He rubbed his hand to his face to get the ache from his sockets.
Basil exhaled from his nose. “Side-Quests are just odd jobs for the local populace; despite the name, there’s no official standing for their acceptance, content, or reward.”
“Ah. So, just mercenary work?” Not that I was opposed to that kind of thing, it just seemed a little below the stations of… well, we were supposed to be Heroes?
“Essentially, Victor.”
Killing Villains for Quests would increase our Rank the quickest, but being able to eat and enjoy our free time seemed like it shouldn’t be ignored even if it delayed our progress. I could always raid the estate for money, but that would go against the spirit of the challenge.
“Perhaps,” I concluded, “after the plant problem is solved, we should check our gold reserves and try to find a way to increase that. Permanent transport and better gear are just as important as progress.”
“Fogvale has a nice bow I would like,” Jakob rubbed the back of his neck and looked out to the woods.
“I wouldn’t mind some better armor,” Basil offered up. Certainly, the robes didn’t exactly give him a lot of defense, and keeping him alive and stable was important.
I withdrew a wrapped object from my side pouch. “That reminds me, a late birthday present, Florence.”
She turned in surprise from the bench, and her green eyes darted between my extended hand and my face. “Oh, you needn’t of-“
“You did well on our Quest, and although we didn’t get any loot, the Party supports each other.” I surprised even myself with those warm words. There was a line blurred between the act I had been putting on and my actual emotions. Any introspection on this, I would save for a later date.
The Mage took the wrapped cloth from me and turned back to the reins to unwrap it. “Victor! Thank you, you - this will be a lot of help, truly.” She turned back to us with a smile spread across her pale face and a glove that extended down her forearm. It was dark crimson and latticed to look like dragon scales.
“If Jakob couldn’t let off arrows without stabbing himself first, we’d find a way of correcting that too.” I smiled. How she expected to be a Fire Mage without hand protection, I didn’t know. But then, that was her personality. Rage and vengeance, no matter the personal cost.
I would have none of that.
The first thing you built on was self-preservation. I could count on two hands the vampires I’d once known but who had fallen to Heroes or hunters. Ego and greed were one thing, but so many Villains lost the internal thread that reminded them they were still mortal. I could amass thousands of gold, magical items, servants, lovers, or any material object - yet a single life I had to live.
Part of me rubbed the fur the wrong way - the lack of threat was what had driven me to morose boredom. I had avoided death so proficiently I was no longer living. There was a wiggle of a worm deep inside my psyche that hated me for choosing this - not because I had been safe, but because I could have reset and become a Villain again just as easily.
But I had chosen Hero because it was so different. It wasn’t the Ranking process I adored and longed for; it was the creeping death that loomed over my choices. Rising above the odds yet still being under the avalanche of the decay of moral society. Villainy was easy; being a Hero and not breaking from the pressure was a true test of strength.
I looked between my Party again, my mood somewhat dampened by the flattening forces of my own introspection. The humans were hopeful; they trusted me to assist them in victory and thought with good luck, they’d be able to avenge their families. Basil would follow me to Hell and back - for reasons I was yet to fully understand. His motivations were to see me succeed… or perhaps just see how long I could avoid failure.
But me? I was Death. An iceberg where the gleaming tip look majestic and inspiring, but the whole of it sunk to the unfathomable depths, where darkness and a past of bloodshed and ruin lay. I was only one bad day away from sinking my fangs into someone undeserving and undoing all that I had been trying to present. I doubted the Guild would tolerate a murderous vampire amongst their ranks.
I wondered what they would do to stop me.
And if they could.