Chapter 7: Chapter Six : Between Sanity and Madness

“I worry one day I’ll wake up and you’ll be dead, caught up in some current far too strong for your little legs.”

~~~

There was a scratching sound. An occasional snap. Soft curses. Small shuffles. Then back to the scratching.

She blinked awake. A mass of death swirled beside her bed, roaring with red. Her heart squeezed. She was convinced she was dead, and a Princess of Hell had come for her soul.

But she blinked, and the mass of death vanished. It was Aurelius. Sitting beside her, one leg over the other, and scrawling in a book with a feather quill. His writing was furiously fast, soft curses under his breath. Occasionally he would seem to shoo away insects, eyes darting around as he followed their invisible flight, scowling. He caught his breath as Hazel tried to look up to him, then snapped the book shut around the quill.

“Good morning, darling,” he said, leaning in with his damn mischievous smile. “Sleep well?”

Throat dry, Hazel wheezed, “….My head is killing me…”

Aurelius nodded. “They had to sacrifice three entire chickens to bring you back from the brink.”

Hazel groaned. “It would take about five to get me all my blood back… after someone took it.”

Aurelius recoiled in fake shock, hand over his heart. “How positively awful! White Cliffs has such a vampire problem. I’m so glad I raced you to the hospital after I found you collapsed in the street. But here you are!” He waved over her. “Alive and well, and not some unholy creature of the night!”

Hazel looked up at his smiling face, the picture of innocence. Even now, after everything, he still maintained an air of nobility about him. He maintained the proud way he held himself, the loose way he held his long thin fingers, and the hint of an accent she couldn't quite place.

But since she had freed him, it had all taken on a wicked edge, sharp and manic. She didn’t know if it was just her perception, or if her actions had actually changed him somehow.

She felt a shuffle from her blankets, and looked down as Edelweiss’ little head popped out.

He flicked out his snake tongue and said, “I made sure he did nothing else to you, Lady Webb. Though he did punch someone trying to help us.”

Aurelius scoffed, setting his hand on his cheek as if theatrically offended. “Excuse me, I stopped the Sister from reporting us back to Asphodel!”

“You punched a Sister?” Hazel asked.

“A vampire Sister,” Aurelius insisted. “My actions were well justified, in my opinion.”

Hazel sighed and rubbed Edelweiss’ little head. But he did not murr. He said softly, “Please do not say you wish to die, Lady Webb. I would be very sad if my favorite pet human died.”

Aurelius snorted a laugh, but Hazel just sighed, still stroking his little head.

“I wasn’t thinking straight…” she muttered. “I’m sorry Edelweiss, for getting us into another mess so soon after arriving…”

“You are as troublesome a pet as ever, but I love you all the same,” he said, butting his head up against her chin.

Still stroking his little head, Hazel looked around where she was. Only the manalight near her bed had been lit, the rest of the room dim. She was in a long room with dozens of beds, the rest empty as far as she could tell. All the high windows had been blocked by heavy curtains, only a hint of light streaming in. The air was still hot and stuffy, but she figured most buildings would be like that in this tropical town. If she had to make a guess, she was in the healing hall of a temple, perhaps one devoted to both the Heavenly Father and the Earthly Mother. The decor was a somber black and white, the tilework on the floor and walls patterned with those colors. On the ceiling, there was a simple fresco where depictions of pale white Heavenly Princes danced with depictions of dark black Hellish Princesses, eternally swirling in and around each other, just like the Fabric’s Threads would.

She at last looked back at Aurelius, who was pointedly ignoring her, sitting with poise and scribbling into his book. She saw his fingers were reattached, only a thin white scar where Edelweiss had bit them off. He noticed her staring and he wiggled them.

“Did the healer fix that?” she asked.

“I can just do that,” he said. “Perks of the condition.”

“What’s your game?” Hazel asked slowly. “First you kill me—“ Aurelius scoffed loudly and dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “—And then you race me to a healer?”

“My dear little martyr… I could ask you much the same. What exactly is your game?” He laughed and started counting off his fingers. “First you pull me aside, said you’ll free from a most horrible fate. Then with barely a nod your way, you perform a wildly dangerous procedure, one that you thought might kill me… Then after I try to spare you from your own stupidity, you so graciously offer me your body…” He laughed and rolled his wrist. “I mean you come on a little strong, darling witch! I barely met you a couple hours ago! Now I ask of you —“

He closed his book and leaned in close. His smile slipped off as he stared her dead in the eyes.

He crooned, near a growl, “What, exactly, did you hope to gain from this?”

Hazel grimaced and looked away. She didn’t like the accusatory look in his eye.

“Well he’s an ungrateful one,” Edelweiss said. “But I’m inclined to agree. This was rather foolhardy even for you, Lady Webb.”

“I like helping people,” she mumbled. “I just do what I can.”

Aurelius sighed heavily, head sagging. Then he leaned back, wooden chair creaking under him. “So you do. Well I’m grateful. And indebted to you. So I’ve come up with a little…” He took a deep breath as he considered his words. “Thing. You can help me with. To satisfy your apparently desperate craving to be my personal guardian angel.”

The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

He flipped open his book and started swishing the pen back and forth. Hazel could only stare at him. He was doing that thing again. “Fishing,” as Hazel had come to call it. Movements, words, grace and dignity, all intent in reeling people in. Even this pause was simply a way to keep her attention, keep her guessing. She broke the curse, didn’t she? Then why was he like this again?

She blinked, and winced as she saw the state of his Fabric.

The hand was gone from his head, yes. But where the fingers had dug in, giant black and green fingerprints remained. They pressed over his eyes and on either side of his head, edges bleeding. Like a crown made of anxiety and melancholy.

“What even was that?” Hazel asked, blinking the image away. “The curse I removed from your head?”

“Well,” Aurelius said, not looking up from his writing. Suddenly he paused. He looked up at her, puzzled. “Goodness me where do I even start… how much do you know about vampires my dear?”

“Not much,” Hazel said. “They’re natural undead, they feed on blood, they can’t go out in the sunlight…”

“So about as much as the layman,” he said with a nod. “A vampire… hm…” He turned back to his book and started writing again. Hazel had no idea if he was sorting his thoughts or just letting slack off the reel.

“Vampires… are the apex predator of humanity,” he said. “They blend in with the people, play with their systems, exploit their hierarchies, and they take—“ He pretended to snatch something from the air and hold it to his chest. “—Whatever, and whoever they like. And people all but beg for the chance to be taken.” A sharp edge had entered into his voice, a scowl on his face. “There’s not many ways in this world to cheat death. And there will always be those who think the immortality vampirism offers is worth the cost.”

He took a deep breath, and shook his head.

“But it’s not. Worth it. Because the one thing a vampire does not want, is competition for his human prey. He will take… but he will not give more than is necessary.

“So! That's why a vampire keeps things like me.” He placed a hand on his chest. “A thrall. A vampire, true, but not one that can compete with its sire. The Vampire Lord holds their unholy spawn—“ He leaned forward and curled his hand into a fist. “—By a leash. A vampire has total and utter control over their thralls… little more than puppets or pawns used to root into human society and suck the blood from its bones.”

Hazel stared up at Aurelius from her pillow. ‘This man could be a performer like Zinnia,’ she thought idly.

“But you, great savior, have cut my leash. Freed this humble thrall from his one Sombre Asphodel. And I am willing to bet—“ He leaned in, smiling mirthlessly at Hazel. “—That you’re the type who would like to heal the city from a little vampire infection.”

“O…. Kay?” Hazel said. “So… did breaking your ‘leash’ cure you of vampirism or…?”

He backed off and did a little tittering laugh. “Not, as such, no. I don’t think there’s a cure for this beyond just… dying?”

“So… you’re asking me to kill… vampires…?” Hazel asked slowly. “Or…?”

“Actually, I want to avail you, good witch, of your brilliant powers!” Aurelius cried, patting her hand. “You can break a leash without breaking the thrall? Isn’t that something special!”

“Okay? I don’t see your point,” Hazel said. “As soon as I broke yours you ran off like a madman trying to go murder somebody.”

His smile faltered a little. “Yes. Well. You stopped me didn't you? Talked some sense in me?”

Hazel raised her eyebrows at Aurelius. “And then you turned on me and drained me dry.”

“You asked me to! And you got better!” He huffed, eyes darting about, his poise suddenly off balance. It was kind of funny to see. “Look. Yes. I didn’t handle it well. I’ve been under that bastard, Asphodel’s yolk for a century. I—“ He winced and ran his fingers in his hair. “I needed to… see if I was still under his control. And the fastest way to do that…”

“Was to kill someone?” Hazel concluded. “Don’t you do that literally every night?”

He released a wild laugh. In a scathing tone, he shot, “Don’t I wish! You are literally the very first human I have fed on.”

Hazel was surprised. “You can survive a century without drinking blood?”

“Oh, I drink blood. I have been living on a diet of live rats for a fucking century,” he concluded, tone slowly growing more and more angry. Aurelius gripped his book tightly. Teeth gritted, breathing rapid. Rage clear on his face. Hazel didn't need to blink to know he radiated red and black.

But the dance had left him. He wasn't drawing out sentences, inserting grace into his movements. Unless he was good at all acting… he was well and truly pissed.

Hazel found his erratic nature troubling. It was like he was unraveling… she winced. Did her actions cause this? Surely he was better off like this than as a ‘thrall’ right?

Aurelius took a deep breath through his nose, and the mirthless smile slid back on his face.

“I am going to kill my sire,” he said, words dripping with poison. “I’m going to kill Vampire Lord Asphodel. And to do that, I am going to use your powers to wrest every last thrall away from him. Our collective rage, our centuries of malice, will slam into him, and shatter his deathly grip on this rotten city.

“Now—“

He leaned forward, eyes burning. He was trying so hard to put his fisherman’s smile back on. But his rage still smoldered, and Hazel could only feel like he was threatening her with his bared fangs.

“—What is your price, little Weaver?”

Hazel quailed under the man’s intensity. ‘What have I gotten myself into?’ she thought.

“And if I say no?” she asked hesitantly.

He made an exasperated sound and threw himself back in the chair. He crossed and uncrossed his arms, making over-dramatic disgusted sounds.

He finally admitted, strained, “Fine. You can say no. I owe you that much for giving my life back to me. But please consider —“ he leaned forward again “—Be it money, influence, a perfect lover… or just a goddamn ticket off this sinking tub… The Asphodel Family can provide.

“Just tell me what you want, and I will do everything in my power to give it to you.”

Hazel closed her eyes and laid back into the pillow. What did she want? She was never really desperate for money, nor did she particularly crave power, especially not in a city she barely knew. The idea of being provided a perfect lover felt wrong, and she didn’t particularly want to leave either. There was nowhere else she wanted to be.

What she really wanted was…

To undo the past.

She winced, and turned away. Yeah, she didn’t think Aurelius could do anything about her failures. There was no fixing what she had done.

What she wanted, what she ever wanted, was to help people. Do something. Make a difference. She could peer into the Fabric, directly touch people’s minds, a rare power afforded to very few. She needed to do something with that gift.

Otherwise, it was all just… pointless.

She peered at Aurelius’ mental wounds, still bleeding in his head. He had returned to his book and was scratching out something frantically. He flicked his eyes towards her and back down. Like he didn't care. He could wait. But there was tension in his body language.

Would helping this man, this vampire’s former thrall… help?

She chuckled weakly. “You had me pegged from the start… I am a little martyr girl.”

Aurelius grinned, smile still strained. “So… Helping for the sheer sake of helping, are you?”

“And to make sure you are actually helping the city too,” Hazel insisted. “I’d hate myself if I let you go, and then read all about a rash of horrible vampire murders in the paper.”

Aurelius gasped, hands over his heart. “I would never! Let them find the bodies, that is.”

Hazel laughed weakly. What was she getting herself into? He held out his hand. She held out her own, and they shook.

Partners in crime.