Broken Soul

Michael

"See you later at the ball," Zen waved goodbye as he left with Mira, leaving Michael alone with only Eydis in the corridor.

"Let's head back to our rooms," Michael said and turned away.

The hallways were bustling with activity. The feast would be in a couple of hours, so everyone from the lowest servant to the highest nobility was preparing for it.

"Excuse me, Lord Rowan," a voice startled Michael. He spun around, not having noticed anyone approach. Eydis had a similar reaction, which concerned Michael even more.

The perpetrator was an unassuming man with greying hair and a friendly smile. He was wearing a grey cloak, one would expect from a poor traveler rather than a visitor to the royal palace.

Michael felt on edge all of a sudden, and not just because the man had managed to sneak up on not only him but Eydis of all people. Somehow, he felt like prey to the strange man.

"Who are you?" Michael asked, with his hand on the hilt of his sword.

The man smiled again and raised his hands in a placating gesture. "No need to be so on guard around poor old me, milord. I came to make a request, not to start trouble."

"Then let's start with an introduction. You seem to know who I am, after all," Michael didn't lower his guard one inch.

Rather than words, the man simply reached into his cloak and pulled out a little black metal pendant. It was a sun, like priests wore them, but there was an eye in the center of it.

Michael released his grip on his sword, but didn't lower his guard.

"I assumed that I would be standing face to face with a member of your order sooner rather than later, Inquisitor," Michael said in a cold, emotionless tone.

"I am not here for you, milord. I am hunting something in your territory, though," the Inquisitor replied.

"Mages, nonhumans, heathens, heretics, so many options, but I am pretty sure that I made clear that the Inquisition has no power in my land."

The inquisitor nodded along happily. "That is why I came to you to ask for permission. You see, I do not hunt for any of your mentioned parties."

Michael watched the man closely. He couldn't find a single sign of deceit, but that wasn't surprising. Inquisitors lied for a living.

"Spit it out then. I tire of these dances. What is it that you hunt, Inquisitor?" Michael asked.

The Inquisitor lowered his head and replied, "The most vile of monsters that stalk the night. They take the form of humans but are anything but. Vampires."

That took Michael aback. "Vampires? I thought those had been all but eradicated by your order?"

"You thought correctly. We have been quite successful in rooting out the vampire covens in our area of influence, but just as with everything evil and magical, the increasing mana levels make things more complicated. How much do you know about how vampires work?"

Michael tried to think back to what he had learned about them. Vampires were rare because of the Idas Church's ongoing hunt, at least in most human societies. He had learned some about them from Solon and some adventurers, though, and looked into different kinds of monsters and threats when he and his brother took over the administration of the counties when his father had been called to the capital.

"Vampires are humans who have been cursed by the old remurian pantheon to crave the blood of other sentient creatures. The curse can be propagated from vampire to human, but the farther away from the primordial vampires a vampire descendant is, the weaker the advantages and the more pronounced the curse effect is. That is why vampires are categorized by generations.

"They are weak to sunlight, Symbols of Idas, and silver. They move in the dark like a man would during the day, are stronger and faster than normal humans, and generally have a larger mana well than when they were alive. That is about it."

The Inquisitor nodded happily. "That is more than I expected already. What you said is true. The vampires we see today are mostly of the fourth generation or even further removed, with maybe a few third generations leading larger groups. The more direct descendants went into hiding or to sleep when the mana fell together with the stronger monsters and magical creatures."

"And with the rising mana, the stronger vampires are reemerging," Michael guessed.

"They will in the coming years," the Inquisitor confirmed. "Which is why we are redoubling our effort to root out any surviving vampire covens so that once the stronger vampires return that they don't have anyone to help them out. This will force them to move more aggressively and allow us to find and wipe them out more easily."

"You think that one of those covens is in my lands?"

The Inquisitor nodded again. "Yes, I do."

"Why?" Michael asked.

"My investigations indicate it."

"How exactly?" Michael pushed again. He wouldn't be so easily dismissed.

The Inquisitor looked at Michael for a while. His grey eyes searched for a way to deceive him, but he seemed to come up empty.

"A witch gave me a prophecy. 'Beneath giants with a heart of silver, in a land that changes faster than the seasons, and where tradition goes to die. In those shadows, you will find what you are hunting for, and they will find you.' Those were her words."

Michael considered those words. It was obvious how the priest had come to the conclusion that the southern counties were meant.

"That is quite vague. It could as easily mean the dwarven Kingdom of Garekha," Michael pointed out. He obviously didn't believe that to be the case, but he wanted to throw the Inquisitor off his game a little.

"A land where tradition goes to die? The dwarves? I think not."

"You would be surprised. A lot of things are changing with them right now," Michael said.

"Well, I will go where I have access to, and I still believe your lands to be the most probable. Much of my work has become running down rumors, so I don't mind either way."

"What happened to that witch?" Michael asked to buy some time to think.

The Inquisitor sighed. "Against my advice, she was sadly burned. The opinion of a vampire hunter, unsurprisingly, carried less weight than that of a witch hunter. Funnily enough, that very colleague of mine fell down a flight of stairs only a day later, and now graces a quaint little graveyard."

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Michael paused for a moment, not sure if the man was joking. He was certainly amused, but there was also some amount of anger simmering under the surface. Michael decided that it was of little importance. He couldn't tell the truth from a lie anyway without a lot more information. So he turned back to the present problem.

This could obviously be a trick to gain entry and some legitimacy to run around in his lands to either gather information or do worse. There was also the chance that the man was telling the truth, which made all of this a little more difficult. Michael didn't want to have any members of the Inquisition running around in his lands, but the fact that not a single hint that there were vampires in his land had reached him made him nervous.

Michael wanted to dismiss the man. Tell him to go to hell, but on the off chance that he was telling the truth, it would pay to have an expert in vampire hunting on the case.

He kept eye contact with the man until he finally came to a decision. "Against my better judgment, I will allow you access to my lands. The safety of my subjects is of the greatest importance to me, be sure to remember that. That also means that I will not grant you any special privileges and assign you a guide to watch over you, for obvious reasons. I expect regular reports on your progress, and if you find what you are looking for, we will assist you in clearing out those monsters."

"I can agree to those conditions. I swear, with Lord Idas as my witness, that I have no interest in any targets other than the blood suckers," the Inquisitor swore with his pendant raised to his face.

"Good. Just a word of warning. The south is a wild and sparsely inhabited area. Many parts are visited maybe once a decade by accident, and people can easily get lost." Michael put in a good old threat just to have that out of the way.

A grin split the slightly wrinkled features of the man, which gave him a scary look.

"I will keep that in mind, milord. And I look forward to our time together. This is promising to be much more interesting than I thought. It has been a while since I have been threatened in a way I actually believed. Well, be it as it may, please let me know when you leave the capital. My retainers and I would like to join you on the street."

He bowed with those words and then left. Michael watched the man as he moved lazily through the hectic environment around them. No one seemed to take much note of him, even if he looked mightily out of place. As he finally left Michael's sight, his danger sense finally calmed down.

"Very concerning," Michael said, more to himself than to Eydis.

"Why did you allow him entry? I thought we wanted exactly these kinds of priests to stay the furthest away from us," Eydis signed.

"If he is truthful, then he will be a great help. If not, he will land in a ditch somewhere in the woods or mountains. That is not something we can do if he stays here in Lionsgate," Michael replied, also in sign language.

"I can't imagine that the mages will be very happy with this," Eydis noted, and Michael couldn't help but agree.

"Come on. I still have to get ready for the festivities," he replied instead.

- a few hours later -

Michael didn't have much of a chance to get anything done once the ball had started. They had eaten, and then he had been swarmed by nobles. Many of them were people he had talked to the day before, and many more were the daughters, sisters, etc, that they had talked about. His friends had made the conscious decision to leave him to his fate, so he was caught in a vicious cycle of small talk and then dancing.

Honestly, it wasn't too bad as long as the prospective women and girls weren't hovered over by their families. Michael enjoyed getting to know some more people, even if many of them seemed stiff and weighed down by their family's expectations. He made a game out of it, trying to get them to drop the act and just get to know them, not just because it helped pass the time, but also because he would much rather get to know the person rather than the curated mask.

Michael had also always enjoyed dancing, as long as he didn't have to do it with Solon. That was just awkward. It felt very close to fighting, just with the difference that it was cooperative rather than antagonistic, which was a nice change.

"That really happened?" a girl named Lily from some unimportant family giggled, missing a step, but Michael managed to adjust his position to hide her mistake.

"Oh yes. That was embarrassing, I tell you. I will never again stick my hand into an earth hole I don't know what is inside," Michael chuckled.

Lily had been a tough nut to crack. She had stubbornly clung to proper etiquette until Michael had finally found her weak point: embarrassing stories. The girl had opened up much more after Michael had told her some stories of mishaps with mostly involving himself as the target.

The song ended at that point, and Michael took the girl back to the table they had shared before.

He could see some others wanting to make a move now and then freezing before abandoning their attempt. Michael was curious what could have caused that reaction and looked around to maybe find Zen coming toward him. What he found was a girl, maybe sixteen years old, with long brown hair, a beautiful green dress, and sharp eyes approaching them.

"Ah, Lily. Nice to see you," the girl said, and Lily replied with unveiled excitement.

"Amelia! I didn't know you were back in the capital."

Amelia smiled warmly. They shared a short hug, not caring about proper etiquette.

"I arrived just a few hours ago. It is nice to be back," the brunette explained.

"Have you met Count Michael Rowan yet? He is very nice," Lily continued with excitement.

Amelia looked at him with a searching gaze. She then did a perfect curtsy before offering her hand. "Lord Rowan. My name is Amelia Wulfen. It is my pleasure to meet you."

Michael was taken aback for a moment at the name but managed a polite smile before anything else showed. He took her hand, planting a polite kiss on the back of it. "The pleasure is fully mine, milady."

Lily and Amelia talked for a while, and Michael participated lightly. He inspected Lily more closely now, wondering how someone of relatively low standing had come to befriend the daughter of Duke Wulfen.

She was a small girl, a year or two older than Michael but still about half a head shorter, with blond hair that had been braided into a circle behind her head. Her dress was nice but not overly expensive as far as Michael could tell.

"Lord Rowan?" Michael was reminded that he wasn't alone and looked at the daughter of House Wulfen, who had addressed him.

"Milady?"

"I think the next song is starting soon. So if you intend to honor any of the girls with your presence, you should do so soon," Amelia said with a smirk on her face.

Michael smiled back and offered her his hand. "Well, in that case, may I have this dance, Lady Amelia?"

Amelia smiled, satisfied that Michael had understood the unvoiced intent of approaching him like this, and nodded.

They said their goodbyes to Lily, who waved at them happily before returning to her group of friends.

Michael led his new partner to the dance floor, and once the music resumed, they began moving in slow circles around one another.

"It seems you are very busy. I am in luck that I ran into you at this opportune moment," Amelia said, finally breaking the silence.

"I do seem to be unreasonably popular these days, but for House Wulfen, I can always make time," Michael replied with a smile.

"Oh, I can fully understand why you are so popular. Lily seemed quite happy, at least," Amelia purred and moved closer into the dance.

Michael chuckled. "I assume I am to think that this meeting is a complete coincidence?"

Amelia smiled. "That would make things easier for me, but with my name out there, that seems like too big a coincidence, right?"

"A little bit," Michael said. He had to draw her closer as she moved faster, and amusement twinkled in her eyes.

"Well, it is true. I heard about you, of course, and wanted to see how much truth there is to the stories I keep hearing of the Bloody Count," Amelia explained.

"Most of those stories are exaggerated. Reality, so often, is much more boring than what people can imagine," Michael replied.

"So, you didn't personally slaughter every member of the traitorous families, I assume?" Amelia asked, amused.

"Oh no, that one is true. I killed them with my bare hands and then drank all of their blood before dancing to a full moon and finishing the dinner with a baby as dessert," Michael quipped.

Amelia faked being shocked at that. "Oh my. But I do so very much like vengeful people, it keeps the world orderly."

"Are you flirting with me? That would work better if you didn't wear the last name Wulfen. There is no scenario I see where this isn't on your father's orders."

Amelia smiled back but didn't increase the distance between the two of them. "Oh no, this is more for my own amusement, but don't worry, you are a little bit too young for me. In a couple of years, though ..."

"I see, but why don't we keep this professional just for appearances' sake, and you tell me what you are supposed to be here for?" Michael said. He had had enough overly flirty or forward people today to be put off by it anymore.

"You are no fun. You are too headstrong for me anyway. I like my boys quiet and fully devoted to me." Amelia moved back to a proper distance between their bodies, and her face changed from flirty to serious for a moment.

"My father is interested in your deal, but thinks that it wouldn't be good for the two of you to be seen together too often. I will serve as intermediary for now, so let's try to build at least a cordial relationship just for appearances' sake, as you put it."

"Again, his daughter might not be the best choice in that," Michael noted with a raised eyebrow.

"Wrong. My father trusts me, and I have a reputation for not caring about alliances, factions, and whatever. I talk to whom I want and when I want, and no one will believe that this is anything other than me trying to needle my father," Amelia corrected Michael with a sneaky grin.

"So, how about we talk a little bit?"