The Homunculus Knight

Chapter 11: Triumvirate

“You disgust me. You and your ilk have gorged yourself for centuries, growing in both strength and influence for what? More thralls? More simpering scions? A few new types of undead servitors? That’s all? That’s all you have to show for nearly a millennium of unlife? You’ve managed to breed a few select bloodlines of mortals. Congratulations, you’ve matched the skill of a horse breeder. We are Vampires! We are eternal and capable of so much more; your inability to grasp that truth reveals much of your weakness.” - Isabelle Gens Silva’s infamous ‘Letter of Rebuke’ sent to Voivoide Igori Gens Suillia.

Cole was used to dealing with predators; he’d spent enough of his life hunting and being hunted to know how to handle a hungry creature watching him. Glancing at the monster staring at him, he asked. “Would you mind letting me bathe in peace?”

Isabelle lounged languidly on a bench while Cole finished scrubbing the last remnants of sickness from him. In a voice heavy with need, the vampire moaned. “I’ve missed you.”

They’d returned to the apartment so Cole could clean himself and get some clothes. It would apparently take a few hours to arrange a meeting with a Void Priest, and Isabelle was currently forbidden from further experimentation. The Hierophants reacted to finding out she broke into the Screamer ward and conducted involuntary arcane surgery on one of them as well as Cole expected. Honestly, after the debacle with Mina and Alia, the fact they hadn’t attempted to exorcize Isabelle spoke of how bad the situation in Vindabon was.

Feeling his new chest scars, Cole felt a surge of fresh guilt. He’d grossly miscalculated by not curing himself of the plague. Numerous deaths, Mina’s critical condition, and Natalie’s possession were direct side effects of his choices. Tracing the marks of Isabelle’s dissection, Cole forced himself to think about his actions and reconsider his motivations. Cole wanted to be human; he didn’t want to end up like so many ageless monsters he faced. To that end, he let himself suffer and struggle in ways he didn’t need to. All because he hoped the pain would keep him grounded, closer to the people he helped, not the undying things they feared.

“You really do have a magnificent body; I love how sculpted it is,” remarked Isabelle, watching as Cole pulled himself both from his dark reverie and the tub. As lukewarm water cascaded off his torso, Isabelle let out a longing sigh.

Starting to dry himself, Cole repeated his earlier stated boundary. “I’m not sleeping with you while you occupy Natalie’s body. It would be disrespectful and… unwise for all parties involved.”

A melodic laugh escaped Isabelle. “Oh, Natalie’s of much the same opinion, but seeing you all glistening and brooding is making her reconsider.”

Turning away from his two lovers (fire-and-iron, it was strange to think that.) Cole hid his blush and finished drying his short hair. Natalie still trimmed it for him, and Cole was glad for it; he despised how long bangs got in his eyes. “Even if you both come to some kind of agreement, I’d not feel comfortable with it.”

A low note of amusement escaped Isabelle, and then a series of wet cracking sounds started. Whirling around, Cole watched as Natalie’s body shifted. Long black hair turned white, gentle features sharpened and matured, her curves thinned, but she grew taller with longer legs. Soon Isabelle, in both mind and appearance, sat before Cole, holding her head up with one hand.

Smiling like some Devil of the highest order, Isabelle asked, “Better?”

Shaking his head, trying not to respond to her flirtations, Cole started dressing. “That… that is somehow even more unsettling.”

Clicking her tongue and letting the mild shapeshift fade, returning her to Natalie’s form, Isabelle remarked. “Come now; it's not like we haven’t played with my powers like that before?”

Quickly throwing on a shirt, Cole tried to stop his mind from wandering there by asking,. “How are you, Isabelle? We’ve not spoken outside of fragmented dreams for so long.”

Disturbingly, Natalie and Isabelle wore identical expressions when surprised. Recovering herself, Isabelle crossed her legs and said. “Your ability to pierce my defenses remains impeccable.”

Offering him her hand, Isabelle let Cole help her to her feet and guide them both to the apartment’s main room, where they lay down facing each other on the bed, and Isabelle sighed. “It's been horrible; I’ve been ‘living’ in a state caught between life, death, consciousness, and dreams for twelve long years. Only the past four months have been anything resembling a proper existence. I suppose, despite our squabbles, I should thank Natalie for her aid. Even if it wasn’t originally given voluntarily…”

Isabelle frowned then and said. “Natalie wants to try something; she says I need to drink a little from you.”

Cole raised an eyebrow and considered remarking how awfully convenient that was for Isabelle but decided against it. Reaching up to his collar, he pulled on his shirt and exposed his other collar. Isabelle planted a fanged kiss upon his scarred skin, and something brushed against Cole’s mind. It smelled of lilies and blood; it felt like Natalie’s lips and smile. Tentatively, Cole touched the presence and felt it seep into his mind. A sudden spike of terror exploded in Cole as the worming influence grazed old wounds.

Flashes of knives and fangs filled Cole’s mind, along with glowing red eyes and pale, pale skin. Panic bloomed like blood from a wound, so much panic, the feeling of blades, the sensation of soft lips and sharp teeth. Pulling, tearing, muscles ripping, skin splitting like stretched burlap. Burning, burning, burning, fire, sizzling fat, screams, screams, and shadows.

Natalie and Isabelle stood at the edge of a bloody river. They were back inside Natalie’s mind and waiting for the third member of their strange little triad. Pulling Isabelle into Natalie’s mind wasn’t hard, but dragging Cole through the connection of consumed blood was proving a little more difficult. Sticky bubbles boiled up from the bloody river as Natalie tried to understand what was happening. She’d reached out to Cole through the link and invited him into her mind. Instead of joining her as Isabelle or previously Pryia have, Cole reacted… strangely. He accepted her invitation and then started fighting the link, leaving him in a strange limbo between mindscapes.

Isabelle looked at the stirred-up river and commented. “Using your mindscape to host a meeting between the three of us is clever. I’m surprised I didn’t think of it.”

Frowning, trying to help Cole connect with her, Natalie said. “Something’s wrong. Can you help?”

Isabelle answered. “He’s not a Vampire; this won’t come easy to-” Pausing, a slight look of befuddlement crossed over Isabelle, quickly replaced by shock as the older vampire sensed something. Jumping into the knee-deep red stream, its metaphor changing depth as needed, Isabelle reached into the bubbles. Natalie joined her and did the same; she found thrashing limbs beneath the surface. Gripping where they could, the two vampires pulled something wretched from the blood.

Exploding out of the crimson flow in a welter of ichor was a twisted mass of broken flesh. Its number of limbs and their condition shifted with every second as it thrashed. While its skin was rotting leather stretched so tight, it was tearing open, exposing red muscles and yellow fat. The creature’s face was skinned, and tears of blood, both black and red, poured down from lidless eyes. But its eyes were a familiar cool blue, the color of clear winter skies; they were Cole’s eyes.

Isabelle and Natalie exchanged identical looks of horror. The older vampire tried to reach out to the thrashing behemoth, but it knocked her away with a multi-armed blow. Torn between her mentor and the monster with her love’s eyes, Natalie cried out, “What is that? Is that Cole? What happened?”

Isabelle staggered to her feet, an ugly twitching palsy running through the flesh the Cole-creature touched. Forcing her lips to work, Isabelle spat, “Mindscape… how… how… we see… see ourselves.”

Swallowing uselessly, Natalie decided she was due for another act of brave idiocy. Ducking under a thrashing arm, Natalie rushed up to the Cole-creature. The knee-deep water was of no impediment to Natalie; this was her mind, her rules. With an effort of concentration, Natalie coagulated the blood around the creature’s legs and sent out tendrils of red to bind its limbs. Pryia’s training showed its merit as Natalie restrained the scarred monster and approached it safely.

Staring into its skinned face and those so familiar eyes, Natalie reached out to touch its mutilated cheek. Isabelle’s scream of “NO!” came too late as Natalie touched the wounded mind before her.

*Chains wrapping arms and legs, dangling over a vat, acrid smoke, lowered, lowered, lowered, BURNING! BURNING! BURNING! *

* Wet warm flesh, sharp cold fangs, cruel laughter, sore muscles, blood dripping, fluids mixing, red eyes, baleful eyes *

* The crunch of bone, the snap of ligaments, liquified innards, weight, so much weight, a castle atop a body *

* Slit throat, slit wrists, bleeding over a basin, slit throat, slit wrists, bleeding over a basin, slit throat, slit wrists, bleeding over a basin, slit throat slit…*

“COLE!” Natalie screamed as the tide of putrid memories assaulted her. Forcing away the unnatural recollections, Natalie held the Cole-creature’s gaze, trying to keep those blue eyes upon her face. “I’m here! I’m here! You are safe! You are safe!”

Perhaps once a week, Cole suffered night terrors, horrible screaming dreams where his unconscious mind let old horrors slip their leash. Natalie was by now something of an expert in rousing Cole from those fell dreams and helping him regain his composure. That experience and Natalie’s own knack for psychic magic guided her actions. Holding the Cole-creature's flayed face, she whispered to it and tried to pour as much safety and love into her voice as she could.

Cautiously, Isabelle approached them, a mixture of curiosity and concern on her face. “What are you doing?”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, Natalie focused on the Cole-creature and said. “Helping him, at least I hope so. This… this feels like his nightmares, and I’m doing what I always do when he wakes up from them.”

The Cole-creature was no longer spasming and seemed to be settling on a proper configuration of limbs. Refusing to break eye contact but still seeking aid, Natalie asked. “Do you know what happened? When I first touched his consciousness, I could feel his consent and comprehension; but once I started pulling him into my mind, something went wrong.”

Isabelle cautiously stepped next to Natalie and reached out, her fingers hovering over the Cole-creature’s mutilated skin. “I have a few guesses. A common side-effect of extreme longevity is mental degradation. Compacted trauma, cluttered memories, and other issues can ruin a mind if left untreated. I hoped to avoid those issues by designing Cole’s mind with unique defense and coping mechanisms. They’ve worked, but not perfectly.”

Ruined skin and open wounds started to heal slowly as the Cole-creature settled into a weary stupor. Lidless eyes stared at Natalie with the type of soul-deep exhaustion only extreme pain can spawn. Watching this regeneration, Isabelle asked. “Do you know about Sword Stress?”

Gently massaging a cheek where new skin was growing, Natalie shrugged. “It happens to soldiers, right? They do or experience something, and the war gets into their soul. Are you saying Cole has Sword Stress? It would make sense but aren’t people with it more… mad?”

Even without looking at her mentor, Natalie could feel Isabelle purse her lips in a way signifying the answer was not satisfactory. “The nuances are more complicated. Anyone who faces great pain can develop it. Actually, most people who suffer horribly do gain it to some form. Your aversion to Werewolves (even if it's now lessened) is technically considered Sword Stress by Seers specializing in that sort of thing. But yes, people who’ve survived even a tenth of what Cole has don’t tend to be… functional.”

Pieces clicked together like a Concordian painting, and Natalie nodded to herself. “Cole’s mind is intact thanks to your modifications. But even they aren’t enough to defuse the pain inflicted on him. The night terrors, the paranoia, this whole mess, it's the cracks showing.”

Fresh skin covered up old wounds, and lids grew over Cole’s eyes. Slowly, Natalies released the binding blood and let Cole topple forward. Catching him and dragging his body to the shore, Natalie and Isabelle watched as old scars and fresh clothes wrapped around the recovering Homunculus.

A soft uncharacteristic noise escaped Isabelle, something between a sob and a sigh. “He sees himself with the scars. I…I hoped that wouldn’t be the case, at least outside of dreams.”

On either side of the Paladin, the Vampires watched as he stirred. Cole’s eyes snapped open, and a rattling breath escaped him. “I’m sorry.”

Touching his cheek, thankful for the new skin, Natalie asked. “Whatever for?”

Wincing, Cole started to pull himself up, unwilling to meet either vampire’s eyes. “I broke just now; the last time someone other than Isabelle pulled me into their mind was the Larder. I trust you and love you, but my subconscious mind still panicked.”

Natalie leaned her head against Cole and groaned in annoyance. Glancing at Isabelle, she asked. “Was he always like this?”

To both Natalie’s and Cole’s shock, Isabelle joined them, leaning against Cole’s other side and saying. “Taking the world upon his shoulders and blaming himself for any supposed flaw? Yes, yes, he has.”

The three stood like that for a time until Natalie asked. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Cole shut his eyes and softly said. “They hurt me. I can usually forget how bad most of the time, but sometimes I’m reminded, and it’s like I never escaped, like I’m back in that pit.”

Sucking in a breath, Cole nodded to himself and said. “But I’m not there anymore. I’m here with you both. Thank you.”

Hugging him tight for a moment, then letting go, Natalie said. “I thought the three of us being able to speak in my mind was a good solution. I didn’t think it would cause you pain; I’m sorry.”

A low laugh escaped the Paladin. “Weren’t you just rebuking me for apologizing for something I shouldn’t?”

Shrugging, Natalie let go of Cole and said. “Well, you seem to be doing better, so I suggest we start figuring this out.”

Isabelle reluctantly detached herself from Cole and said. “I suppose that would be wise. Considering Natalie and I haven’t tried to kill each other out of jealousy, we are doing rather well with this situation.”

Cole grimaced and bowed his head to both women. “I owe you both apologies. Isabelle, I never stopped loving you; I’m sorry for betraying your trust. Natalie, pursuing a relationship with you wasn’t fair; I can only beg your forgiveness.”

Despite the brevity of Cole’s words, it was clear he’d been thinking about this for a while now, his ever-present sense of guilt driving him to rectify where a lesser man might flee. The two vampires exchanged long looks; Cole wasn’t the only one devoting thought to the situation.

Isabelle went first. “You didn’t abandon me. I remember so many times you just stared into my skull’s eyes for hours, begging for me to speak with you. I could hear but not answer, it tore my heart with guilt, and I wondered if my survival was worth the cost. Even while serving the Tenth God, you maintained my existence. Feeding, protecting, and speaking to me when I could offer nothing but cold bone and tortured dreams.”

Glancing at Natalie, Isabelle explained. “At first, I loathed you, viewing you as a threat to my survival. Slowly that changed, and you’ve become… important to me. A student, a friend, a fellow vampire, someone I’ve grown to trust more than most. We have our issues, but I don’t view you as a rival, more like a… colleague in affection.”

Natalie actually laughed, mouthing the phrase ‘colleague in affection’ before saying. “I think Cole’s being slightly unfair in saying he pursued me. If memory serves, I practically seduced him, something he tried to resist initially.”

Gesturing to Isabelle, Natalie said, “Well, I considered you just another Leech, a particularly monstrous one at that. I dismissed Cole’s claims you weren’t a monster, or at least trying not to be. Now… well, you’ve had numerous opportunities to betray my trust, and aside from a few… prickly moments, we’ve worked well together. I can understand why Cole loves you.”

Isabelle grew very still then, her mouth opening slightly and then shutting with a snap. Hesitantly the older vampire said. “Thank you.”

Stepping forward, Natalie offered a hand to both of her companions. “This situation is messy and complicated beyond words. It would be easy for hearts to be broken and stupid squabbles to happen, so I will do my best to ensure they don’t. In my opinion, Cole is worth sharing.].”

Cole took the offered hand and gently squeezed it. Slowly, tentatively, Isabelle did the same, her face a mask of cool indifference, as telling to her emotional turmoil as any pained expression. “I agree.”

In a heavy voice, Cole rumbled. “Thank you. Thank you both for loving me and being people I can love. Thank you for… for this.”

Isabelle shut her eyes and sucked in a pointless breath. “With the bleeding heart matter finished, let's move on to the task at hand.”

Letting go of both their hands, Isabelle snapped her fingers and summoned up a few projected memories. Phantom images of the Faerie, its larval form, and, disturbingly, Cole’s plague-infested corpse materialized nearby.

Natalie recoiled from the sights, but Cole simply frowned at Isabelle. “Are you certain more doesn’t need to be discussed?”

Eyes on the fly-rabbit, Isabelle said. “For now, I think the matter is sufficiently settled. Dynamics like what we are forming aren’t uncommon in some cultures. Admittedly it's usually an aristocrat with multiple spouses as signs of power, but that’s not always the case. Now, back to the plague ravaging the city and my efforts to cure it.”

Cole exchanged a glance with Natalie; they both got the sense that the third triumvir was avoiding something. For better or worse, they silently agreed on not pressing the matter. If Isabelle was unwilling to address it, then attempts to yank it out of her would probably end poorly. Hopefully, whatever it was, it could wait, whereas Vindabon and the surrounding region couldn’t.

Speaking quickly, Isabelle rattled off what she knew. “My method of using the Fae larva to cure the plague is inefficient and dangerous. While my second attempt was head-and-shoulders above the first, and there is room for further improvement, it simply isn’t logistically possible to use on large populations. Besides, I doubt the technique will be of much use to those treated to not become Screamers. The larval Fae is removed by the cleansing before it can grow strong enough to influence the infected. Without that larva, the technique won’t work.”

Frowning, Natalie asked. “Then why did it work on Mina? She’d been cleansed? Hells, she was probably one of the first people to be.”

Isabelle blinked and then said something Natalie never expected. “Oh shit.”

Gliding over towards Cole, she gripped his head and whispered in an occult tongue. Letting go of him, Isabelle visibly relaxed. “Well, I have good news and bad. It seems those suffering from the plague can be reinfected, at least partially. Even if the original larva is removed, a new one can find purchase. We will need to inform the Temple the plague wardens need to be regularly cleaned. Another headache to make this a bigger mess. ”

Tentatively, Natalie asked. “I’m hoping that is the bad news?”

Isabelle nodded and said. “Yes, the good news is Cole wasn’t reinfected handling the sick Priestess or Catblood. That he wasn’t gives me some ideas and some directions on where to go.”

Turning to her magnum opus, Isabelle asked. “I’m sorry to ask you, darling, but would you be willing to let a Screamer bite you?”

Cole didn’t even hesitate and nodded yes. “If it will help, then of course.”

Isabelle went over to the phantom copy of Cole’s corpse and added. “Oh, and I’m reasonably certain the Sting provides a level of inoculation against the plague, which means Natalie is showing remarkable self-control. This immunity is another avenue of attack I will focus on and should allow for a vaccine to be developed.”

Natalie asked. “A vaccine? Is that some kind of medicine?”

Shrugging, Isabelle briefly explained. “Technically, yes. It will help prevent the spread, not cure those already infected.”

Laying out the situation, Isabelle mused. “So we have one feasible but inefficient method of treating Screamers, another potential path to prevent further infection, and an annoying usurper to deal with.”

Eye’s flashing with contained rage, Isabelle continued. “Someone was given my notes by Voivoide Igori; I won’t tolerate that.”

Cole asked. “Why don’t you think the Voivoide is personally responsible?”

Isabelle scoffed. “He’s a lazy schemer who prefers to profit off other’s work. He’d ‘delegate’ this task to another and rake in the spoils if it succeeded or discard his minion if it didn’t.”

Unsure if it was a good idea but unable to resist, Natalie remarked. “But he still beat you, didn’t he?”

Isabelle’s lip curled in disgust, exposing long white fangs. “Igori’s victory was built on my flaws, not his strength.”

Pursing her lips, Natalie decided not to push the issue, even though Isabelle’s logic seemed less than waterproof. Instead, she asked, “Well? What’s next then?”

Tapping long fingers on the phantom slab holding Cole’s corpse, Isabelle said. “I need more information about the type of Faerie being used. My experiments involving Fae-manipulated pestilence used a captured Powrie, but this plague clearly uses something else. The Ninth Temple should have answers to that, and until I can meet with them, I’ll need to focus on the medical aspect of the plague. If the city won’t give me the resources I need, then I’ll be forced to improvise.”

Isabelle turned to Cole, and words started to form on her lips. They died, but their ghost called out to Cole. “What were you going to ask of me, Isabelle?”

Shaking her head, Isabelle tried to banish whatever notion she’d murdered in its crib. “Nothing I’m currently willing to suggest.”

Looking at Natalie, Isabelle said. “I need some time in my memory palace to gather the information I stored away. Enjoy the rest of your birthday with Cole; I’ll call when I’m ready to use more of my agreed time.”

Moving over, Isabelle planted a kiss on Cole’s lips and then faded away. Natalie watched this, expecting a surge of jealousy, but it didn’t come. Or at least not how Natalie expected… Instead of being jealous of Isabelle, Natalie wondered what it would be like to join them, both of them….

Shaking the thought from her mind, Natalie sighed and went over to Cole. Leaning against him, she said, “So what was that Isabelle said about using her powers in the bedroom?”

Cole’s back stiffened into an iron bar. “Uh… ur… um…”

Snickering, Natalie got into her toes and kissed Cole’s cheek. “You must tell me more after I get my birthday present.”

Frowning, Cole asked, “Your birthday present?”

Natalie smiled like a hungry cat. “It’s not like you could get me flowers with the city like this, and Isabelle will be busy for a while, so… I think we have some time without interruptions. Besides, Isabelle wasn’t kidding about me enjoying watching you bathe.”

Rubbing his face, a nervous laugh escaped Cole. “This is so strange.”

Natalie shrugged. “I used to be a waitress from a mountain town barely even on the maps, now I’m one of the strongest vampires in existence thanks to an ancient monster’s final act of spite. You are an immortal artificial human who serves a God diametrically opposed to your existence. I think we passed the gates of strange a long time ago.”

Isabelle Gens Silva was used to profound revelations. She’d swam the currents of the Beyond and touched alien minds in her dark pursuits. She’d vivisected bodies and souls just to feed her curiosity. She’d spat in the faces of Gods and Monsters, claiming powers they hoarded selfishly. But now, lying atop her lake of blood, staring up at an impossibly large moon, Isabelle was forced to accept a new and horrible revelation; on some deep level, she hated herself.

When Natalie spoke of her growing trust and Cole apologized for the sin of falling in love, Isabelle felt sick to her soul. Here she was with these two gullible fools opening themselves up to her, and… and she felt grotesquely unworthy. Cole suffered a year of unimaginable torture because of her arrogance and still refused to abandon her. The foolishly wonderful homunculus was left traumatized and alone for more than a decade and still didn’t give up on her. Instead, he asked his new love to accept that she must share his heart. Then in spite of everything, Natalie accepted this arrangement with surprising ease, even forming a shockingly strong bond with Isabelle.

Covering her eyes, Isabelle realized she couldn’t keep dancing between choices. She needed to either commit to taking Natalie’s body or discard the plan entirely. All this hedging of bets and hesitation wore on Isabelle. Now at the moment of truth, Isabelle needed to either harden her heart and expel any affection for Natalie or just accept the situation as it was. Of course, the idea of passively waiting for Natalie to grow in strength and trust she’d honor the deal was anathema to Isabelle. Stasis in an ever-changing world is decay, and Isabelle refused to rot even in the slightest.

If she was going to enjoy the love and trust offered, then Isabelle needed to abandon her plan. But she couldn’t just tread water and let time flow past her. So as was her nature, Isabelle decided another option was required. With each night, war crept closer to Vindabon. Eventually, Cole would be required to stand against the Duchies with Natalie by his side. They would inevitably face other powerful vampires, horrible creatures who embodied the worst of her kind. If one could be captured… well, it wouldn’t be an Alukah, but it would be something.

Natalie lay upon Cole’s chest, enjoying his warmth and the afterglow of their love. In a breathy voice, she started to sing. “~ Another year I live! Another year I’m loved! Oh, what glory! Oh, what goodness.~”

She was off-key and forgetting half the lyrics, but Cole didn’t mind a bit. Wrapping her up in his arms, he rolled her to his side and let out a long breath. Snuggling into his chest and ensuring his arms wrested comfortably on hers, Natalie asked, “What? Not a fan of celebration songs?”

Cole snorted in amusement and squeezed her tight. “I’ve got a feeling it might be some time until we can do this again, so I wanted to enjoy how you feel.”

Natalie wiggled her hindquarters against Cole and said, “I thought you felt me plenty?”

As tempted as Cole was to resume their earlier activity, he resisted. “I know I’m asking a lot from you with all this. Thank you.”

Sighing, Natalie was tempted to turn around and nibble on Cole for ruining the mood. Instead, she said. “In the spirit of complete honesty, the idea of sharing you isn’t particularly distressing. What bothered me was sharing you with Isabelle. From what I originally understood, she seemed a spectacularly twisted vampire, which she is, but not how I feared.”

Reluctantly, Natalie slipped free of Cole’s arms and did a complete roll on the bed, so she faced him. “She created you and then fell in love with you. That is so creepy and just… ugh. Not to completely taint the evening, but isn’t she like your mother?”

Cole’s face twitched with disgust. “I’m not exactly familiar with typical family relationships, but I can say that isn’t the case. Isabelle’s emotions towards me were never… matronly. I was closer to being her student and favorite creation than her child. Which still isn’t ideal, but not anywhere as foul as your notion.”

Thinking on that, Natalie remarked. “She once told a story about an ancient Magi who fell in love with a Golem he created, comparing the legend to her relationship with you. It’s a confusing mess, but you’re right, much less gross.”

Rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling, Cole commented. “It wasn’t like she broke into my bed chambers a week after I was created. She was very aloof for the first year or two, really only paying attention to me when conducting tests. That changed when she started debating philosophy with me.”

Natalie raised an eyebrow at that. “Really?”

Cole nodded. “She originally intended it as a method to measure my intellect and moral perspective. Then she started losing, and it became a personal challenge.”

A snort escaped Natalie. “You beat her?”

Again, Cole nodded. “Isabelle wouldn’t admit it at first. We’d be discussing some hypothetical quandary, I’d make some point, and then she’d get very quiet for a while. The first few times, she just got up and left, making me wonder if I’d done something to offend her. Eventually, once my victories became consistent, Isabelle would just sit and stare at me for a time. Once, she actually dragged me to a ritual room to conduct an exorcism, fearing I was possessed by a Seraph or Devil. I think the notion something of the Beyond was influencing me was easier to swallow than her just being a terrible philosopher.”

Sitting up in the bed and letting out a genuine laugh, Natalie said. “She thought an Angel or Fallen Angel was inside you? Just because she couldn’t beat you in a debate?”

Sheepishly, Cole just shrugged. “Isabelle is remarkably intelligent but too utilitarian and jaded to see some options. I don’t know if it's just an effect of being a five-hundred-year-old vampire or something else, but she has a bitter streak of pessimism, and it blinds her sometimes.”

That lined up with what Natalie experienced, both with Isabelle and Cole. The Paladin was preternaturally wise sometimes, and Natalie could see how a domineering vampire used to only servants and rivals would be caught off guard by such a talent.”

Staring at Cole, Natalie was reminded of her recent conversations with Isabelle about the deal they made and what was shared about Cole’s origins. Keeping either bit of information secret would cause problems, so Natalie bit leather and said. “Hey Cole, I didn’t just agree to let Isabelle possess me to help with the plague.”

Speaking slowly at first but accelerating with every word, hoping to get it over with, Natalie explained the twelve days she’d bartered away and Isabelle’s explanation for Cole’s moral compass. Cole listened, his face calm as Natalie spilled every detail she remembered. Eventually, as the deluge of words petered off, Cole asked, “Why didn’t you tell me about Isabelle’s offer before?”

Letting out a huff, Natalie explained. “Because I didn’t want to think about it! The idea of letting her possess me was terrifying, and I tried to avoid the topic for as long as possible. Then she went and did it because of the plague, and it… well, it’s survivable. She didn’t steal my body, alter my memories, or kill anybody I care for, even though this would be the perfect opportunity to do so. Sure, she pushed it a few times, but I expected so much worse.”

Natalie frowned, “Okay, but how do you feel about the other thing?”

Cole was silent for a moment before saying. “It doesn’t surprise me.”

In answer to Natalie’s raised eyebrows, Cole elaborated. “I’ve traveled the continent and seen much over my life. I know I’m different, not just because I return from death; how I view life is apparently abnormal. Thank you for telling me.”

Natalie pursed her lips in confusion. “You seem to be taking this very well.”

Rolling off the bed and finding some clothes, Cole sighed. “You didn’t want to tell me about the twelve days because you feared making the possibility real by expressing it. I understand that perfectly. Isabelle’s reluctance to share information about my creation scares me. So the idea that my mind is somehow primed for loyalty and empathy feels… well, as you said, I expected so much worse.”

Reluctantly, Natalie also started putting on clothes; the little reprieve she’d shared with Cole was over; time to focus on the city rotting around them. “You could ask her more about it now that you can speak with her through my mind. She doesn’t have the right to deny you the story of your creation.”

Cole looked down at his hands, one scarred, the other not, and said, “I could; I just don’t know if I want to.