Rotten Æther

//Author Note: If you want to see from another perspective: Bloody Æther | Scribble Hub //

 

She’s watching me. Her attention has become unwavering since we saw each other in the foyer, and even though her eyes are locked ahead of her, I can feel her attention on me.

It is different, but no less intense than the hungry gazes of the hunters that stalk me in the wilds. She knows about my magic, and she’s a vampire of all things, so I could control her if I’m powerful enough, or she’s weak enough. She might want me dead. It doesn’t feel like it, but I don’t trust my intuition that much.

The others are at my back if something happens, but that also means that I can’t just run like I could if I was alone. We would move more slowly and I’m sure that this deep into her territory she could trap us somehow.

Even if this is a trap, I’ll have to fight my way out, and that’ll be easiest if I take her down quickly so that she can’t do too much to us while we escape. Vampires seem the most dangerous when left on their own, if forced into an open fight, I’m sure that I could beat her. I hope that it doesn’t come to a fight, she seems nice so far, and it’s always best to avoid fights where possible. If I fought every bear I came across, my bones would be picked clean by the crows already.

Christina. That’s how she introduced herself, and she’s been very careful ever since, every step is perfectly the same distance, and even the way her dress moves because of it is a perfect wave, washing back and forth along her form. She’s covered herself with so much cloth that it’s difficult to see her skin apart from her face, even her neck is covered in lace. I’m sure that if I could drag her to a good shop, they could make her something much nicer so that she’s not bundled up in so much cloth.

Still, I’m not really sure how I could convince her to come clothes shopping with me. I’m sure it would be fun dressing her up in all sorts of different things, with her pale skin and refined appearance, I want to see her in something a little more casual. Is this what it was like for Adeleya when she was helping me get my first dresses?

If anything, I wouldn’t mind Christina having a lower top, just to show her shoulders and chest a little.

The shadows around us are darker than they should be, and they move in strange ways. It’s magic. Illusion magic, shadow magic, something like it. She’s trying to unsettle us, but it doesn’t seem like she’s attacking us. The wolven did the same sometimes, White was always making sure that I’m ready to respond to an attack anywhere anytime. Is she seeing how strong we are?

I know that some people don’t like having weak friends, so maybe she’s seeing if it’s better to kill us or to try and make friends with us. I have to be ready, to prove to her that we’re not so weak that she could defeat us, that we’d make for better friends than enemies.

She takes us to a room a little brighter than before, the flickering flames in the fireplace and the candles all around the room seem to dispel the shadows that were moving around before. It’s a little more welcoming, and it feels a little safer.

She sits by the fire and I stay close to her.

It’s a little difficult figuring out where to put my adamant blade, the thing is so long and heavy and there’s nowhere good that I can put it. Then there are the swords on my hips, which are a problem of their own. I have to unstrap them and move them onto my lap just to get comfortable, and while I’m struggling Christina is staring right at me, probably thinking that I look stupid trying to move everything around.

My brow is covered in sweat by the time I’m finished.

“Thank you for accepting my invitation, there is much that I wanted to call you here for, but I’m sure that you’d like me to assuage your concerns before all else. I am a vampire, and I know that Syr here is a necromancer. I hope that you find no issue with the former and I can already confirm with you that I have no problem with the latter.” The flames flicker in her eyes as she looks away from us, the way that she talks makes it difficult to tell what she’s thinking and feeling. I have enough trouble with that on a normal day.

“With this in the open, I hope that it will not be of great issue if I ask you to detail more about your powers?” She asks, turning to look directly at me. “I do hope that I might beg a favour from you at some point, but I would like to know what it is that I can ask of you.”

I shrug and start telling her my story. My history, how I learned it, even the possibility that it was a god that granted me the knowledge, or that the vampires might have somehow conspired to give me the power.

She listens closely. No one else has reached for the tea on the table, but I shrug and take mine as I tell my story. Some parts hurt to speak aloud, but it’s a good pain. A pain at the memory of things past, bad things that are now over and gone. The only aspects that still linger with true suffering isn’t the pain I felt at the time but knowing that there are people still missing from my side. People I can’t see anymore or talk to anymore.

The words, the entire conversation is over and gone before I can even listen to myself speaking, and a silence hangs over the air. It’s more relaxed than it was before, and at some point Christina’s cold hand has found its way to mine, resting on my arm, though I don’t know when she put it there.

“Thank you,” she says, meeting my eyes. “Honestly, I didn’t expect you to tell me everything and it’s… it’s refreshing to be trusted so easily.”

“You already know the dangerous parts anyway,” I shrug. The tea isn’t very good, but I don’t complain.

“Now your turn,” I stare at the vampire beside me. It’s impossible to understand what she’s thinking, her expression is cold as anything, but her grip around my arm expresses something that her words do not. It’s a gesture that is just as familiar to animals as it is to people, simple but there is so much meaning that could be held in it.

At first, it was like she was trying to comfort me, but her grip has only tightened now, as she considers my words. Or maybe she’s just thinking out her own words.

I want to know what it means to be a vampire. What she wants from us, from me.

She slowly breathes in before starting to speak her own tale.

“You should already understand that vampires are born from the bloodless victims of other vampires. The corpse stands again as a ghoul with a thirst for blood and nothing more than the most basic and desperate of animal instincts,” she explains, her words slow and careful as if the precise pronunciation holds extra meaning that slips right by.

She’s wrong about the animal instinct thing. The ghouls aren’t animalistic. Animals have so much more complex feelings and desires. Even the hungriest of bear or wolven doesn’t act the way that the ghouls do. I don’t correct her, though. It would just slow her down more. Maybe I can bring it up later instead.

“In order to transition from a mindless ghoul into a proper monster like me, one must drink blood,” she explains. “I was no different.

“Aldramodore, a villain, stole into this house one day, not more than a few weeks ago. He killed my family and I while we were at the dinner table. Understand, that for one of my kind, the flavour and power in blood is enhanced by the terror a person experiences in the moment that you drink from them. Thus, a master vampire is also a chef in a rather twisted fashion.”

So far, she’s expressed not a single clear emotion, only hints here and there that I can’t be sure aren’t just a lie. Now, for the first time, it seems that the emptiness in her expression speaks of a true feeling and not simply the absence of anything more. It is a cold and terrible despair, something that sends shivers down my spine.

Her fingers dig into my arm as she continues.

“Fear is a spice, and he was rather liberal in his use of it,” she explains. “My entire family died, and Christina Greystone died too. Only, sometime later, I arose with her body. I slaughtered the servants, people that I knew, closer than even friends… but that was to the girl who died, not the monster that rose in her body.

“I do not recall committing the violence, but I have no doubts that it was me who was the culprit. In any case, I have since stuck true to the values that I have stolen from the human I once was. It has been… challenging. As a noble, I was lied to about many things, and it is impossible to stay true to my values when acting based on lies. A reeve cannot find justice when they do not have the truth.”

The flames flicker across her eyes, they shine with tears unshed. She’s looking away from everything, not even breathing as she stares between us.

“Vampires enjoy making people afraid of them?” Adeleya asks, looking between me and her.

“Yes,” she answers simply. “It is true, but it is also more than that. Fear strengthens our magic, it gives us strength in a hunt, and it makes blood taste all that much sweeter. Those who are courageous or filled with reverent faith are like poison to us. It would be a struggle to hunt one such as that, and it would provide little rewards for the effort. Yet, vampires are not mindless beasts but people, and people are sometimes inspired by more than such simple reasoning.

“Fire and light are also powerful weapons against us, and simple fire enchantments on wooden sticks or splinters make for effective weapons,” she explains, her voice cool and calm. No different from before, though her grip on me has weakened now, her eyes seem that little bit clearer.

“Is that all?” Theo asks, leaning in closer with interest.

“No. Vampires are slaves to their sires, or so I have been told. I have yet to meet mine, but from what I have observed, it would seem to be true,” her grip loosens on me again, and she pulls away from me. “Orders would be obeyed even unto death itself.”

“Why are you telling us all this?” I ask.

“You were open with me,” she explains. “It is only decent to return the favour as much. Not to speak of the simple point that these secrets ought not to be secrets any longer. The weaknesses of my kind should be made common knowledge to all that would war against us, even if a time should come that I’ll become victim because of it.”

Silence again falls between us as we consider each other’s words. The situation that still sits between us. I don’t quite know what to say, but I want to say something. I want to make the situation a little bit lighter than it is right now, and maybe pull us all away from the things that are killing us. I want to talk about happy things again, not just gloom over the awful things.

“What do nobles do for fun?” I ask putting down the teacup.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand the purpose of your question,” Christina sits up a little straighter as she looks at me.

“Nobles, I didn’t see any singing and dancing in the festival and all your fancy homes are surrounded by tall walls like you’re trying to keep everything out, which I get. I like a well-protected home, too, but it’s easy to hole up in a good home and forget about all the fun things outside your door, or wall, or whatever.

“So, what do nobles do for fun?”

“Listen to music from their servants, tea parties with other nobles, and other events that include dancing and music, though it is as much duty as ‘fun’,” she says, shaking her head at something I don’t understand. “I personally have an affection for books. I used to. What is this to do with vampires and necromancers?”

“I just wanted to know,” I reply. “I mean even necromancers and vampires have to have fun, right?”

I’ve spent so long simply trying to survive that I want to do more with my life. I don’t want to be just a ‘necromancer’ and I’m sure she wants to be more than just a ‘vampire’. I want to sing badly and dance wildly. Run races in the street and watch the street performers run their tricks and act out silly stories. I want to eat street foods and do all the other fun things.

I don’t want to simply be a mean necromancer.

“Villains would usually only find such enjoyment from the suffering of others, unless you are wanting to invite me on a hunt, I do not fully understand your intentions,” she says.

Lothar is at the back of the room, chuckling to himself as he glances over at me and Christina. I don’t know what about this he finds amusing, but he mouths some words at me.

Is he making fun of me? I don’t mind, it’s sometimes fun to make fun of each other, but I’ll have to ask him what this is about later.

“Could we return to the topic at hand,” Theo says, not reacting as Lothar slaps him lightly on the back of the head. “What have you called us here for? What do you want from Syr?”

“Yes, we should return to the topic,” Christina, nods slowly. “I have mentioned that a vampire is a slave to their master, that their own will is, supposedly, ineffective at rebelling against them. I hope to escape this city before I am in a situation to learn whether this is entirely true.”

“What does that have to do with me?” I ask, shuffling around to face her directly. At some point, her grip on me has shifted and now she’s holding my hand instead.

“There is a possible exception to this rule, or at least Pharisa, the vampire that your mage helped me to overcome, seemed convinced such was the case,” Christina explains. “A necromancer is a master over all that is dead, vampires are no exception.

“If I am to have someone give me orders, then I would rather place my trust in a rogue necromancer than in the man who killed me and my family.”

 

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