The Homunculus Knight

Chapter 18: The Chase

“It… it came out of the Ocean. Just walked up off the beach and started killing people. Tore em apart like they were boiled cabbage. Bjor and Ivark both tried to run, but they couldn’t. It caught them with some-sorta power, made it so they were wading through water but on land! All while, the thing kept screaming something in the old tongue. Dunno enough to say for sure what it was saying, but I caught the word ‘debt.’ Which I reckon makes sense. Poor Skacki shoulda never dredged up that silver. Old Nanna said it was bad luck, shoulda believed her.”- Testimony of Brok Struson, a survivor of the Snaaga Draugr attack.

:: An abandoned Farm somewhere in Norica ::

Gentle snow fell between half-rotten rafters. Passing through an open maw of wood and thatch. Landing inside what once was a barn, now a monster’s lair. A figure in rust-red armor stood in the center of the barn, eyes unfocused and mind elsewhere. Dietrich Freymond watched the distant city of Vindabon through the senses of Owls and Bats. Looking for any sign of his quarry. While a shivering Yara tried to keep warm in the bleak winter night.

Watching her master, Yara felt a knot of fear grow in her gut. The trail led to Vindabon, but there was no sign of Dietrich’s quarry. The Scarlet Knight dared not approach the city. Instead, hoping Yara’s plan to flush out the Alukah and her protector would work. They’d spent a week so far in this ruined barn. Dietrich only leaving to hunt. As every night without results passed, Yara became more and more fearful. It had been her idea to try and poison the Holy League against the Paladin. If it didn’t work then the wasted time and effort would be on her head.

Dietrich’s increasing impatience and wrath was evident in the condition of his kills. A peddler had been the most recent. The unlucky merchant’s head had been ripped clean off, his frozen body now lying in one corner of the barn with the others. A pile of dead awaiting either proper disposal or reanimation. Staring at the ten or so corpses piled up like so much cordwood, Yara wondered if she’d join them soon. Strangely the idea of Dietrich devouring her didn’t scare her. What did, was the possibility of failing him.

Dietrich had taken her as his. Protecting and caring for her when no one else would. Even in the worst of Petar's betrayal, he’d spared Yara. If he were to kill her now, it would be only because of her own failures. Clutching the damp blanket closer to her, Yara tried to still her chattering teeth. The need for secrecy stopped her from making a fire, but not her body from slowly freezing. Looking up at her master, his eyes shut, mouth muttering some spell. Yara felt a strange mix of adoration and utter terror. She owed him everything and would gladly die for him. But she’d much prefer to live for him.

Looking up out of the collapsed barn roof, Yara blinked away snowflakes and wracked her mind for some way to help Dietrich. He’d been watching the city through the senses of enthralled animals. Forced to jump between creatures every few minutes to evade any detection spells woven around the city. A process tiring both mentally and magically. Something the drained corpses and Yara’s own neck could attest to.

A sudden silence pulled Yara’s attention from the open roof back to her master. He’d stopped his muttering. Instead, his face was caught in a pained rictus. Not wanting to interrupt him, Yara watched. Trying to make herself as still and silent as possible. Only the distant wind and groan of rotten boards could be heard as Yara strained her senses for any possible threat. If her master was concentrating, it fell to her to stand guard. So when Dietrich started to scream, Yara nearly toppled over in fright.

A vicious animal howl escaped the Vampire’s lips as he fell to his knees. Yara watched in mute horror as the Scarlet Knight clawed at his eyes. Smoke issued from beneath his eyelids, and a faint sizzling could be heard. Not needing to breathe, a Vampire could scream for a very long time. Even when he ran out of breath, Dietrich still let out a rattling choking noise.

Cautiously, Yara shuffled towards Dietrich. “Master? I’m here; what’s wrong?”

Instead of answering, Dietrich lunged for her, his fangs finding her neck. His bite had no venom, only cold numbness. Yara’s knees went weak as the Vampire fed. After a few seconds, he let go of her. Letting Yara tumble to the ground. Reaching up to her newest mark, Yara was stunned to see she still bled. Dietrich hadn’t bothered to seal the wound. Something was truly wrong.

Looking up at her master, Yara watched as he opened his eyes. Ash bled from the empty sockets like gray tears. Black blood pooled in the sockets, slowly congealing into familiar red orbs. The destroyed eyes were replaced with a new set. Looking at Yara with them, Dietrich nodded to himself.

“Good, I’d feared I’d taken too much,” he growled, voice hoarse from screaming.

Some well-trained part of Yara took strange joy in his words. Her master valued her! Holding her hand to her bleeding neck, Yara asked. “Master, what happened?”

Blinking the last bits of ash from his eyes, Dietrich snarled. “Somethings happened at Vindabon. An army had left the city gates, or something close to an army. I tried to get close to see what was happening when....”

Dietrich flinched slightly, the memory of scorching pain clear in his face. “When I saw the Sun. The Sun rose over Vindabon.”

Utterly confused, Yara looked up at the sky. It was still midnight black. By her reckoning, they still had a few hours to go before dawn. “Master, what do you mean?”

Taking a clump of snow and pressing it to his regrown eyes, Dietrich snapped. “Things have changed. I need to get closer to the city..”

“That is much easier said than done,” said a voice from the rafters.

Whirling, Dietrich shoved Yara and unsheathed his sword. Vampire and Thrall looked up at the ruined beams of the former barn. Standing at the end of a long splintered timber was a man in a green coopers cloak. With casual ease, the man leaped down from his perch. Landing silently near Dietrich. An impressive feat considering it was a two-story drop onto snow.

This close, Yara could see the newcomer was a Vampire. He was short with a lean frame and a face creased from smiling. Even as Dietrich leveled his hulking sword at him, the newcomer grinned. A fox-like smirk almost carved onto his face. Uncaring of the slab of steel aimed at him, the interloper bowed. An extravagant gesture, complete with a flourish of both hands.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir Dietrich Freymond, Brother of the Scarlet Knights. I am Francesco Scapin, Agent of the Ash Door.” the newcomer said, his voice flavored with a thick Aenean accent.

Dietrich did not lower his sword. Instead, asking, “What is one of the Ash Door doing here?”

Scapin pulled up from his bow, face still in that vulpine grin. “Not assassinating you if that is what you are worried about.”

The Scarlet Knight didn’t move. Prepared to strike without any hesitation. Scapin rolled his red eyes. “Honestly, you Knights are all the same. I’m here to aid you, Sir Dietrich.”

That got the first bit of movement out of Dietrich. His eyes narrowed at Francesco’s words. “I do not need the help of an Ashen Agent.”

Clicking his tongue, the Agent in question pointed at Dietrich. “Then tell me, where is the Alukah? Where is the Paladin protecting her? Do you have them trussed up in a storm cellar somewhere?”

Dietrich didn’t respond, just staring at Scapin. While Yara watched from a place near a worn post. Her limbs trembling from the cold and the magical pressure emanating from the two. Both men were powerful Vampires, and the Aether bubbled with their power. Eventually, the Agent just rubbed his face and let out a melodramatic sigh.

“Dietrich, do you mind if I call you Dietrich?” Francesco didn’t wait for an answer. “I’m certain you are an excellent warrior and war-leader. But those skills aren’t particularly useful when playing games of shadow. Let me help you do your duty and reclaim your honor.”

Yara could see a muscle in Dietrich’s neck tense at that, pushing a withered vein to prominence. Francesco waved his hand, and in it appeared a long thin dagger. Pointing to it with his free hand, he spoke. “This is me.” he then pointed at Dietrich's greatsword. “That is you.” Gesturing in the vague direction of Vindabon with his blade, Francesco spoke like he was explaining something to a dull child. “Both can kill but have different roles. I’m here not to steal the glory or anything so tawdry. The Archduke sent me to slip my blade into his enemies. Leaving them open for you to take their heads.”

Flicking his regrown eyes to Yara, Dietrich lowered his executioner's sword. “If your offer is genuine, how would you propose collecting the Alukah? She is inside Vindabon, protected by the Temple.”

Francesco cupped his ear with an exaggerated gesture. “A little bat told me of a massacre in the Southern Marches. How the reports pointed to a Vampire and her scarred thrall being responsible.” Dietrich’s eyes widened at that, but Francesco paid it little mind. “A crude first step but not an ineffective one. We need to apply more pressure to isolate and flush out the target. Something I am happy to help do.”

Dietrich snapped: “And how would we do that? We cannot infiltrate the city.”

The Agent’s smile took on a slightly more vicious hue. “Oh, can’t we?” flourishing his free hand, Fransesco revealed a pair of vials. Each containing a black fluid. “I bring more than riveting conversation, Dietrich. I bring gifts straight from the Archduke’s own stock.”

The Scarlet Knight didn’t need to ask what was in the vials. He could feel it. A throb of red-tinged power at the edge of his awareness. “How…. how do you have that?” rasped Dietrich.

Looking at the vials as if he was just noticing them, Francesco chuckled. “The Archduke is as careful as he is powerful. A fraction of Lord Glockmire’s tribute was cached away for a sunny day. We might not have our prized Cow any more, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t kept any of its milk.”

Tumbling the priceless vials between his deft fingers, Francesco said. “So tell me, Dietrich? Have you ever tasted the Alukah before?”

Cole crept through dark moldy tunnels. Shadows clung to him, and foul things whispered just out of sight. The Paladin held up his amulet, trying to force more power into it. Hoping to drive back the darkness. But it was like trying to get blood from a stone. His blue light was a guttering sick thing, unable to do more than illuminate a meter or two of the tight passage. Creeping forward, Cole held his axe up. Ready for whatever might spring at him.

The splash of feet through stagnant water caught his attention, and Cole swung. Lunging out into the darkness. Dwarven steel split flesh and cracked bone. A wet gurgle came from the shadows as Cole pulled his target into the light. The face of Wilhelm Striga came into sight. Confused horror in the dying man’s eyes.

Shouting in panic, Cole tried to dislodge his axe as the kind man fell into the muck-covered tunnel floor. Blood, black and rancid, poured out of Wilhelm’s wound as the dead man pointed a shaky hand at Cole. Voice weak and rattling, Wilhelm rasped. “You killed me… Just like all the others.”

Cole tried to press his hands to Wilhelms torn open chest. Trying to heal him while apologies poured from his mouth like so much wastewater. Wilhelm just pointed behind Cole, his arm held out rigor-mortis stiff as life left his eyes. Horrified, Cole swung his head around. The motion was slow and awkward, like he was moving through swamp water. Just as he looked back the way he came, Cole’s amulet bloomed with light. Showing the long path Cole had taken and the hundreds of corpses littering it. Bodies, some fresh, some rotten, lay in the muck. All staring at Cole with dead empty eyes.

Breathing fast and hard, Cole stepped away from Wilhelm and the trail of bodies. He couldn’t tear his eyes from them, for every corpse was a story, a story he knew. They were people he’d failed, deaths he was responsible for. Cole felt like someone was crushing him like his lungs were being squeezed into shriveled lumps. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t. Only stare at the dead and the doomed.

Moans and sobs from the other end of the tunnel finally pulled Cole’s attention away from the corpses. In the distance was a man, once hidden by the darkness, now revealed. He was vaguely familiar. Taking Cole a moment to realize he was the Guard taken by the Cult. The one whose Soul Cole hadn’t saved. The Guard was on his knees, two things latched onto his neck. Skeletal thin with waxy skin, the creatures sucked on the dead man like leeches. Cole could physically see the Guard wither. His flesh desiccating by the second. Until all that was left was a set of bones and leathery skin. The creatures dropped the corpse into the muck, where it fell apart. Finally, turning their faces to Cole.

Features pulled taught, eyes replaced by black pits, and mouths filled with needle-like fangs, Natalie and Isabelle smiled at Cole. Or the Hunger wearing their flesh did. The two Vampires slithered down the hallway, coming towards Cole, dry, ugly laughter escaping their throats as they came. Laughter soon drowned out by Cole’s scream.

As the two monsters reached him, the tunnel floor gave way. Buckling under the horror’s weight, sending Cole falling into the dark below. Gone was the rotten tunnel and the monsters. Replaced by an ashen sky and tumbling corpses. As he fell, Cole almost wanted to weep in joy. Returning to the ashlands of his recurring dreams was a blessed mercy. Plummeting through the skies, Cole looked to the nearest corpse. Fearing what he’d see. Instead of a familiar face, it was a hulking mass of fur and muscle. A Werewolf joining the falling bodies.

Confused, feeling like some truth was at the edge of his understanding, Cole didn’t even notice when he hit the ground.

A screaming Cole bolted up from sleep. Limbs thrashing, mind reeling, he fought the blankets wrapping him. Distantly a voice was calling his name, and Cole tried to understand its source. Soft arms slithered around him, and the voice became clearer.

“Cole! Cole! I’m here! You’re safe!”

Blinking away the scraps of dreams, Cole saw the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Natalie clung to him, her arms wrapping around his broad chest, her worried eyes locked on him. Breathing heavily, Cole wrapped his own arms around Natalie and brought her to him with crushing strength. It was her, not the hunger; it was her.

Natalie let out a pained squeak as Cole’s bear hug trapped her. Releasing her, Cole winced. “Love, I’m sorry! Did I hurt you?

Natalie shrugged. “Not really.” then changed the topic. “Were you having nightmares? I’ve never seen you like that?”

Cole nodded in confirmation and crawled out of bed. Going to the nightstand and the pitcher of water there. Downing a glass in one gulp, Cole tried to find his thoughts. “I’m sorry for hurting you. Th-thank you.”

Cocking her head, Natalie asked, “What for?”

Smiling timidly, Cole said, “For being here.”

An amused snort escaped Natalie. “What? Do you take me for some Moon-Chaser who scampers off in the morning after she’s had her fun with a cute boy?”

Both laughed at that, but a fragile look came over Natalie’s face. “Cole… did last night… cause these nightmares?”

Cole set down his glass and returned to Natalie. Putting his forehead to hers. “I don’t think so. But even if they did, I wouldn’t have changed a single Singing thing.”

They sat like that for a time before Natalie clicked her tongue in annoyance. “ If you keep acting so romantic; I’ll be forced to make sure last night wasn’t the cause.”

Cole’s brow raised in confusion. “How is that?”

Natalie smiled and kissed him. “Through repeated tests.”

Cole chuckled and forced himself to pull back from Natalie. As appealing as that sounded they had business to attend to. Looking at the drawn curtains, he asked, “Do you know what time it is?”

Natalie scrunched up her face in thought. “Eight, I think? It's hard to count the tower’s bell when we're so close to it. Speaking of, how do you sleep through that? It's so loud!”

Shrugging, Cole got out of bed properly. “Practice. Let me wash up, and we should make it in time for second breakfast.”

Natalie was busy staring at Cole’s muscled back and rear. Only catching the oddity of his words after a moment. “Second breakfast? What in the World’s Name is Second Breakfast?”

Cole found his underwear and headed towards the wash chamber. “The Temple serves food all day, but the options change throughout the day. The closer you are to a change, the fresher the food is, and there's more of it. The second round of breakfast is usually done by Eight and a half.”

Turning on the water and letting it warm up, Cole called from the bathroom. “What have you been up to all night?”

Rolling onto her back and looking up at the ceiling, Natalie blew out a pointless breath. “Well, I snuggled with you for a while after you fell asleep. Then when I managed to wriggle free of your arms, I got washed. Since then I’ve been reading some of the books Mina loaned me, and day…ur well night-dreaming?”

A pleased noise escaped the bathroom as Cole let hot water pour over him. Muscles sore from the past day or two's adventures welcomed the boon. While the smell of soap blotted out everything, his overly-sensitive nose was picking up. Which was mainly his filthy armor. Cole idly wondered how much of it could be salvaged after his experiences in the Warrens. That thought brought up flickers of his nightmares, and Cole quickly emptied another bucket of water over his head. Long pale-blond hair was plastered to his face in a damp mess. Grumbling at his longer hair, Cole made a mental note to get it cut when he could.

Finishing up, Cole dried off and got dressed. Returning to the apartment proper, finding Natalie slipping into some clothes. Once they were both set, they left their rooms. Cole’s empty stomach spurred him towards the dining hall. They passed a few Temple workers and Acolytes in the hallways. None got too close to Natalie, but neither did they bolt and run in the opposite direction. Something both Cole and Natalie took as good signs.

Once in the dining hall, Natalie found an empty Table while Cole went to grab food. As she waited, Natalie stared up at the mural covering the ceiling, her enhanced senses letting her read smoke-smudged inscriptions on the vaulting stonework. It was mainly lots of names with a few titles and deeds attached to them. Different Hierophants, Priests, and a few layfolk who’d aided the Temple in their time. Natalie was pulled from her observations by Cole’s return. The hungry Paladin was trying to balance four plates of food on his hands and forearms. The waitress in Natalie laughed at his questionable choices and wondered if she would need help.

Cole arrived with all four plates intact and wasted no time digging into a bowl of oatmeal and honey. Natalie watched with mild envy as he wolfed down the food with almost comical speed. Next, he moved to a plate of flat cakes covered in fruit preserves and devoured them with similar gusto. As Cole ate, Natalie found her fingers idly reaching for the plate of sausage and eggs. A lightning-quick fork smacked her hand, and she winced in surprise.

“What was that for?” Natalie whined, looking at the sticky spot the fork had left on the back of her hand.

Cole swallowed and raised an eyebrow. “A certain lovely Vampire told me to physically restrain her if she tried to eat anything.”

Rolling her eyes, Natalie sighed as she dabbed at the sugary fruit with a napkin. “I wanted to see the food. I’m considering taking up Cooking. The nights are long, and I need more than wood carving to keep me occupied.”

Letting her pull the plate closer to her, Cole asked Natalie. “Why not force yourself to sleep like we did on the trip?”

Blowing out a useless breath, Natalie shrugged. “If I’m going to be a Vampire, I might as well enjoy the few perks, like not really needing sleep.” pausing, she then confided. “Also, I can only take so much of Isabelle's teaching.”

Cole’s lips quivered in a strange mixture of smile and frown. The relationship between his lover and somewhat former lover was more than a little confusing. A fact not helped by Isabelle not reaching out to his dreams since contacting Natalie. Something that made him more than a little nervous. Pushing those worries aside, Cole dug into his third dish before finally grabbing the eggs and sausage back from Natalie.

As his gluttonous display ended, Natalie whistled. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone eat that much before. Last night really tucker you out?” a coy smile punctuated her statement.

Cole blushed and scratched his scarred chin. “My body needs to recover. All healing, magical or mundane, works better with resources to work with.” Then, after a moment's hesitation, he added. “But also yes.”

Natalie laughed and propped her head up with one elbow. “So, what is the plan for today?”

Gathering up his dishes, Cole thought about that for a second. “I need to meet with Iron-Teeth and the Guards, see how they are doing and follow the lead we found. But before that, we need to make sure your reading of the city laws is accurate.”

Just then, someone came up to the couple's table. A squat youth, maybe ten, in the robes of an acolyte. Short and broad, the boy had a flattened nose and a heavy brow. To Natalie’s surprise, there wasn’t a hint of timidness in the boy. Just surly aggression. Some instinct told Natalie in a few years, he'd make an excellent Soldier or a very dangerous criminal, maybe even both.

Jutting his chin out, Paladin, the Acolyte said. “Sir Paladin, Lady Vampire, Priest Morri wants you both.”

More than a little surprised by the boy’s boldness, Cole asked, “And you are?”

Puffing himself up, the boy answered. “Acolyte Erik of Snaaga. Student of Keeper Morri and currently in charge of taking you both to the practice yard.”

Cole’s eyes widened. “Snaaga… Then you are?”

Erik cut him off. “One of the children rescued? Yes, thank you for reminding me of my parent’s terrible death.”

Cole blinked, looking like he’d been punched. Natalie couldn’t help but snort in laughter. Acolyte Erik gave her a beady-eyed look and snapped. “If you have time to laugh, you have time to follow me. Now come on!”

The couple got up from their table, more amused than anything by Erik’s antics. Cole went to grab his dishes, but Erik stopped him. Gesturing to a nearby Acolyte who had just finished his own breakfast, Erik barked. “Heya Jan, take the Paladin’s dishes would you?”

Jan looked at Erik rather than at Cole. Shrugging, the boy nodded. “Sure thing.”

Frowning, Cole started to say something, but Erik had already started marching off. Finding the bullheaded boy funny, Natalie grabbed Cole’s hand and led after Erik.

As they walked, Natalie whispered to Cole. “What was that about Snaaga?”

Wincing, Cole said. “Snaaga was a port town on the northern Coast near Tvankberg. About six years ago, some fishermen caught something they shouldn’t have. A Gleip Draugr’s treasure. Gleip’s are nasty things, Curse-born Undead of significant power. Morri and I were part of the group who slew it. We… we were too late for most of the town. But the Gleip was keeping the children alive. Erik must have been one of them.”

Natalie clutched at herself, wishing she could shiver at his words. Cole painted a bleak story, typical of his tales. Looking to Erik, Natalie found it strange to see other players in the tale alive and well. After a moment, Natalie considered Erik’s attitude and wondered exactly how ‘well’ he was.

They arrived then at the practice yard. A sequestered courtyard of hard tile. The courtyard center was a pit sunken into the ground by three steps and open to the winter sky. Surrounding the pit on three sides were roofed chambers holding everything needed for martial training. Rows of weapons, real and wooden. Several benches placed to give good vantages into the sparring pit. A bracing table where broken bones could be set and several other utilities Natalie couldn’t identify.

The fourth wall of the pit was a huge reinforced door with runes carved into its wood. Erik took the steps into the pit and gestured for Cole and Natalie to follow. They complied and found Morri and Mina waiting for them. A large Pig leashed to the ground sat in one corner of the pit as well. Natalie glanced at the Pig, and it looked back with eyes filled with malice. Upon seeing the animal, fond memories of the Direboar hunt came back to Natalie.

Morri approached them and patted Erik on the back. “Good! Good! You found them!”

Erik nodded. “Yes, sir, they were in the dining hall.”

The old Priest looked at Cole and Natalie. “I have good news for both of you. Cole, I assume you told Ms. Natalie about the Council’s decision? Ms. Natalie, I assume you told Cole about your Stigma?”

Both nodded, and Natalie asked. “Is this about the Temple Song Agreement?”

Morri blinked in surprise. “Yes! How did you know about that?”

Natalie smiled. “Woman’s intuition.”

Mina snorted in mock disgust. “The history book had something about the agreement in it right?”

Shrugging, Natalie said, “Perhaps. So does that mean I’m free to leave the Temple?”

Morri shifted uncomfortably. “As long as you bear the Stigma, we will do everything we can to help you. But the Temple’s power is limited outside our purview. We cannot stop you from leaving, but we cannot necessarily protect you either.”

Scrunching up her face in frustration, Natalie asked. “You can render judgment on me! Declare me protected by the Temple and grant me Asylum. The Council or Court can’t easily revoke that.”

Sighing, Morri said. “The letter of the law says we can, but the reality of the situation isn’t so simple. The Court could potentially overrule the Temple, even with the Elector-Prince off at War. If we are going to put you under the Temple’s protection, certain precautions need to be taken.”

Victory hadn’t quite turned to ashes in Natalie’s mouth, but she could feel it coming close. “What precautions?”

The Hierophant elaborated. “You will need a chaperone while in the City. Something I’m sure Cole will gladly do.”

Looking at her partner, Natalie shrugged. That wasn’t so bad. But Morri continued. “We will need your blood, word, and fangmark as well.”

Cole looked at the pig and winced. Natalie, not noticing Cole’s expression, asked Morri: “You already have my blood and oath. So what is a fangmark?”

It was Mina’s turn to answer. “A Vampire can be identified through their bite. We need you to give us an example. So if you are accused of something we can prove your guilt or innocence.”

Slowly turning to look at the pig, Natalie sighed. “You have got to be kidding me?”

Smiling weakly, Mina said. “I got the meanest Pig I could. So… uh, no great loss, right?”

The absurdity of the situation forced a snort from Cole. Natalie swatted him. Holding up his hands in mock surrender, Cole said. “You fed on the Direboar; this isn’t that different?”

Crinkling her nose, Natalie sighed. “Yes, but also no. It’s like… like being asked to eat bad food in front of people so they can measure your literal shit.”

Cole tried and failed not to laugh at Natalie’s choice words. Earning him another swat on the shoulder. Grumbling to herself, Natalie trotted over to the Pig, muttering the whole while. Without ceremony, she sprung at the Pig. Toppling the large swine over and sinking her teeth into its neck. It died quickly, Natalie made sure of that. Once she’d fed, Natalie stalked back to the waiting group. Wiping a bit of pig's blood from her mouth, Natalie snapped. “Happy?”

Morri went over to the pig and held up his amulet, whispering some words and examining Natalie’s bite. As he did, Natalie felt coldness spread on her neck. Reaching up, she felt her Stigma. It had faded to near-invisibility when she’d last slept. But now it returned to its full silver glory in the presence of Morri’s miracle. Humming in consideration, Natalie angeled her neck towards Cole.

“How does it look?” she asked.

Cole shrugged. “Like a Stigma? I’ve never seen one before.”

Natalie opened her mouth to specify what she meant but decided it was wasted energy. Morri then stepped away from the dead Pig and spoke to Erik. “Erik, lad, go get some help to take the Pig down to the Seeking Mortuary.” gesturing to the rest of the group, he said, “let us go to my office. I should be receiving other important news.”

Leaving an annoyed Erik behind, they found Morri’s office with a bored-looking Page standing out front. The Page wore the City sigil on a tabard and had a packet of papers in hand. Seeing them, the Page looked relieved. “Hierophant Morri? This is from Councilmen Korgun”

Morri nodded and took the packet. Dismissing the Page with a coin and going into his office. The others trailed behind him as Morri flipped through the report. He seemed to find what he was looking for, stopping to read. After a few minutes, he looked at the group and frowned.

“We have proof Natalie didn’t kill the Hippogryph Knight,” he said. Turning to one of the sheets of paper, Morri looked at it. “I’m surprised this report wasn’t sent to the Temple earlier. The Knight was killed by a Vampire with only one fang.”

Cole felt a surge of relief, his hidden doubts melting off him like a Glacier in Summer. Only for them to be replaced with a new worry. A curse escaped the Paladin’s lips. “Fixed-Stars… There is another Vampire out there.”

Mina asked: “One fang? Is that a feature of a bloodline or something?”

Shaking his head in the negative, Cole explained. “It's a rare mark of shame in the Blood Duchies. Most Vampires who are deemed failures are just killed. The rare few viewed worthy of redemption have a fang ripped out. They can’t regenerate it and need to have it returned to be at their full power.”

Morri nodded at Cole’s answer as he flipped to another report page. His eyes danced over the words, while a frown furrowed his brow. “Strange… Cole, did you ever have Natalie use a Sun-Shawl?”

Cole shook his head in the negative. “No point, Natalie isn’t bothered by the Sun, and that would just make her stand out.”

Morri set the pack of papers down. “Then the witness was lying. The description is of a large scarred man and a woman wearing a full-body black covering. The Council's reasons to dismiss her testimony and refuse her Asylum were faulty.” Grimacing, Morri added. “Not that they will necessarily believe you or Natalie.”

Whispering to herself, Natalie put it all together. “A Knight killed close to where we were. People saying they saw us when they didn’t. A disgraced Vampire with one fang… Someone is hunting me.”

Taking the report from Morri, Cole looked for anything else. A search team later found the Knight’s mount. The huge Hippogryph had its head cut clean off. A hard thing to do, even with a Vampire’s strength. You’d need a large sword, and someone who knew how to use it.,

Memories of the Alukah’s tomb came back. Of a Vampire in Red armor who’d fought alongside Cole. A Vampire, Cole had spared and told his thrall how to find. A Vampire loyal to the Archduke who’d failed an important task. Looking at Natalie, Cole said. “It’s Dietrich; we are being hunted by Dietrich, the Scarlet Knight.”