"Teacher... what has you so upset?"
Philo gnawed on her pointer figure, pacing circles around her chamber.
Psyche's own anxiety grew as Philo remained silent. They looked to Sophia, who stood on the opposite side of the room.
"I suspect she's caught up in her own thoughts- just give her a moment."
Psyche felt a pang of shame that Sophia seemed far more in tune with Philo than they. The moth-kin and kitsune had both been abruptly summoned by Philo. The only details they could extract was that Philo felt she was a "potential danger" before the Sage insisted the two of them check her over for curses or other potential effects.
Psyche ran through her full arsenal of detection spells, as did Sophia, but neither revealed anything amiss. So far as they could tell Philo was in perfect condition.
Philo sat down at the edge of her bed. Psyche and Sophia each sat down beside her.
"Teacher... please tell us." Psyche asked.
Philo rested her head in her hands and sighed.
"When I fought the Mountain King... something came over me."
"What do you mean?"
"Something made me take a... sadistic pleasure in killing that dragon. In drawing out his death until I knew he had suffered."
Philo then related all the details of her fight. Well, more a one-sided slaughter. How she tore the dragons wings off before leaving them impaled on the side of a mountain to bleed to death.
This shocked Psyche. Their teacher was such a gentle soul, instilling in all her students the importance of life and mercy. They couldn't fathom what caused Philo to act in such a brutal manner.
"...I can see why you were worried about a curse." Psyche said.
"I would not be so concerned, Teacher." Sophia said.
"Why do you say that?" Psyche asked.
Sophia stood up and began to pace back and forth as she spoke. "Philo is an Angel, more specifically a Seraphim. One of the fundamental traits of Seraphim is the 'Mirror of Heaven', a compulsion that drives them to annihilate those with a negative Karma. The lower the Karma, the more extreme the retribution."
"...I was worried about that." Philo sighed.
"But why has this not been a problem before?" Psyche could see the logic for a normal Seraphim, but Philo had never shown this trait before. Why would it just manifest out of nowhere? Unless...
"Is it something to do with whatever transported us to this place? That fog from yesterday?"
Instead of answering, Sophia turned to Philo.
"I believe it is time you tell them." The kitsune said.
Psyche turned to Philo.
"Tell me what?"
"The truth." Philo looked to the distance for a few moments, then turned to face Psyche.
"The truth about how we all came to be."
Psyche tilted her head. What did Philo mean by that? All the disciples were brought into the world by Philo, was there something more behind that?"
"You see," Philo continued. "I am not from the same world as you..."
Prince-Bishop Alexios stalked the halls of his castle like a ghost. Word had come in from the Conclave- war with the Elves would be restarting within the next two years. While his lands did not border the front line, he would still be expected to contribute to the war effort with men and materials.
Alexios looked out a window to his charge below: the small town of Calemtry, the seat of his bishopric. The town was asleep, the occasional candlelit window the only sign of life. Above them the moon bathed the streets in a gentle glow.
With a population of just under 3,000, Calemtry was a notable little settlement. Volcanic activity from the surrounding mountains made it a popular hot-spring town. Those hot-springs had been the site of Saint Calem's ascension 200 years ago, and so alongside the usual tourists were pilgrims who followed the saint’s teachings, and would also stop in town as part of a larger religious journey.
It was a small town, not built for war. Even sending just 5% of fighting age adults would cause a massive downturn in the local economy, not to mention the war putting a lid on tourism.
The Conclave wants 20% of the fighting age adults in his diocese. All equipped and ready to march west.
Alexios sighed. What was it all for again? Sending the best and brightest to die in that forest of nightmares? He shuddered as he recalled that place, the suffocating canopies hiding all manner of death and suffering.
'For humanities prosperity', is what the Pontifex would always say. No sacrifice was too great to rid the world of the non-human threat. Alexios wasn't so sure. Had the gods ever said such a thing? Not as far as he knew.
Well, nothing to be done. I cannot change the world, only work with the cards I'm dealt.
Still, Alexios couldn't help but pray for a miracle, if not to stop the war, to at least spare his small congregation.
"Bishop Alexios!" A servant called, sprinting up the hall like a man possessed then screeching to a halt before Alexios.
"Calm yourself, Brother. Catch your breath, then speak. " The Bishop placed a hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Ah... huff... Thank you sir." The servant took a moment to steady himself, then continued. "There are visitors at the gate- a group of nobles claiming to hail from the east."
"... just 'the east'?"
"They would not specify more than that. They claimed to be refugees and asked to speak with the ruler of the castle."
Refugees from the east are they? East of here would be the Cobalt Sea, and beyond its shores the Empire of the Phoenix. Perhaps these nobles are from the territories conquered by Crownbreak?
"Very well, I will go speak to them. In the meantime, would you please prepare some food for our guests?"
"Are you sure sir? These people seem rather... suspicious."
"Suspicious or no, the Gods tell us to never turn away a sibling in need. So long as they have done no harm to us, it is our duty to provide them succor."
"I understand sir. Then I will prepare some food."
"Thank you."
The servant ran off.
Alexios looked out the window once more, this time looking down to the courtyard beneath him. He could see a carriage sat at his gate, a lone driver holding the reins of a single massive horse with an inky black coat.
This may be an opportune visit. The Phoenix Empire has requested military aid from the Conclave in exchange for tribute. If I can leverage these nobles to ensure the Theocracy receives a favorable deal, it may win me enough political clout to prevent our children from being conscripted.
It was a long shot- but perhaps this was the miracle Alexios was praying for.
The Bishop moved through the castle, passing paintings and edifices of religions history both national and local, down the grand staircase and through the gaudy foyer, all to arrive at a large set of cast iron double doors bearing a relief of the Six Gods shielding the Last City from a horde of monsters.
Two sets of full plate mail stood on either side of the door, and when Alexios approached they each grabbed their respective door handle and heaved the slabs of iron open.
"Thank you." Alexios said.
The armor did not respond.
The courtyard was well tended and filled with all sorts of plants- mainly edible fruits and vegetables or herbs with medicinal uses. The one exception was the Spring Lily, a purple flower which only grows around the local hot springs, considered a symbol of Saint Calem.
In the middle of the courtyard, occupying the symbolic center of the castle's facade, was a grand fountain showing an angel slaying a massive snake.
Walking past the fountain, Alexios approached the carriage.
The driver was a pale man with red eyes, dressed in fine steel plate mail with a sharp face framed by short cut black hair.
"Hello there. I am Alexios, master of this castle. I was told you wished to speak with me?"
The pale man stared back with piercing eyes, scrutinizing every twitch and wrinkle on Alexios's face.
"A pleasure, Alexios. I am Marshall, valet to Lady Vera. Forgive my curtness- but we were accosted by bandits on the road and lost much of our retinue to their blades. I would like to get my Lady behind stone walls as soon as possible... I'm sure you understand."
"Of course, Sir Marshall, my home is your home." Alexios gestured towards the iron double doors beyond the fountain.
Marshall nodded, then swung down from his perch in the drivers seat.
The pale man walked to the carriage door. Underneath it, he pulled out a drawer which unfolded and shaped into a set of rudimentary steps for those behind the door to reach the dirt below.
Marshall then swung the carriage door open.
First out was a woman. Equally as pale and bearing a frighteningly similar face to Marshall, though wearing a maid's dress rather than plate mail. Then came another man, dressed in an aristocratic suit followed by another woman in an equally aristocratic gown.
Then exited the last passenger.
"I present now," Marshall began, "the Lady Vera!"
The woman, taller than all the others and wearing a simple purple dress, made a few elegant steps off the carriage and down onto the ground.
All of the passengers, no matter their skin tone or other traits, bore the same ashy pattern as if they had been dusted with the contents of a funerary vase, and the same vermilion red eyes.
They were beautiful— but in a way Alexios could only describe as 'unnatural.' They lacked any of the subtle variance and imperfections you expected to find on a human body. Instead these people seemed to have been chiseled from marble by the hand of an unerring master.
They must have been Phoenix-Kin. Alexios had heard of humans gifted the use of Elder-Magic, and these people bore an aura and carried themselves with a grace which could only come from possessing such ancient and venerable power.
"G-greetings, Lady Vera."
"Greetings, Lord Alexios." The woman, Vera, spoke then bowed her head towards the Bishop. "I do apologize for our sudden intrusion, and thank you for your generosity."
"Er- yes, of course, Lady Vera, the gods teach us to never turn away a sibling in need."
The corners of Vera's mouth creeped upward into an immaculate smile.
"Indeed they do." She said.
"Excuse me Lady Vera, but I must insist we move inside the castle immediately." Marshall, having handed off the reins to one of the castle servants to deal with, jutted his chin towards the castle entrance.
"Of course, Marshall. Do forgive my dallying Lord Alexios, shall we go?"
"Yes- absolutely, Lady Vera." Alexios made an effort to prevent any stumbling in his speech, and managed to present a respectable air, or so he hoped.
Alexios led the five visitors back into the courtyard, servants swinging the gate closed behind them.
"These flowers—" Vera began, crouching down next to a patch of Spring Lilys, "they are beautiful. What are they called?" Her voice carried itself with a lilting, musical cadence which Alexios found utterly hypnotizing.
"Spring Lilys, my Lady." Alexios answered. "A unique flower, found only in our local hot springs."
"How wonderful. I must make a visit to these springs myself."
Vera reached out and brushed the lily's petals with a gentle touch.
"Lord Alexios, may I take this flower for myself? I've never seen anything quite like it."
"Please, feel free. Treat this place as your own."
"Thank you, my Lord. Laszlo?"
The man in aristocratic dress strode next to his mistress and, in a swift, elegant motion, pulled a pair of scissors from his coat, crouched to the ground, and cut the lily's stem just above the ground.
Hmm. So the two men are Laszlo and Marshall?
It was common for anyone other than the Lord or Lady of the household to go unintroduced. It was part of the game of etiquette nobles of the continent liked to play— to see how well their peers could recall the names of servants and staff as a show of Noblesse Oblige. The fact that the armor-clad Marshall was so upfront was a testament to how dire their journey here had been. Failing to pick up on the others’ names would be quite the social faux pas.
Vera stood up, twirling her new prize between her fingers.
Continuing on Alexios strode through the doors, pleased with the advertisement for the hot springs, and stopped for a moment to allow the plate armor to shut them closed.
Hopefully they will find such a display impressive.
The Blue-Rose Conclave was the most developed nation on the continent, and little aesthetic flourishes like the animated armor were intended to show that off to outsiders.
Alexios snuck a look at Vera's face, trying to gauge her reaction.
She didn't even spare the armor a glance. Instead, her gaze was fixed to the relief on the door.
From what Alexios knew, most humans in the Phoenix Empire worshiped the Four Cardinal Gods, like in Crownbreak or the Terrem Kingdom. If they did carry the blood of more ancient things though, and Alexios was only growing more sure of that conclusion, they may have worshiped the Elder Gods instead. Either way, they were sure to be familiar with the story of humanities bleakest hour, and ultimate salvation. It was understandable for one to get caught up in the artistic rendering of such a holy event.
"I see the relief has interested you, Lady Vera."
"Yes, it has. Its very beautiful. What does it represent?"
What a strange question. What else could it represent?
"Why, its the Salvation War, My Lady." Alexio's words couldn't help but betray his incredulity at her question.
For a second Alexios thought he saw a flash of annoyance in Vera's gaze. That was ridiculous though, an elegant woman such as her would never let something like that slip.
"Ah... of course, how silly of me." Vera grinned, returning her gaze to the flower she held.
Her smile is so reassuring.
"Ahem-" Alexios began, "now that we are inside, please allow my servants to escort you to the guest rooms. I'm sure you wish to refresh yourselves after the long journey. I have also asked for some food to be prepared. Due to the hour it won't be anything fancy, but it should be enough to fill your bellies."
"Thank you, Lord Alexios." Vera once again bowed, and the other four who attended her followed the movement.
A pair of servants rushed over, clearly nervous but equally as enamored with the mysterious guests as Alexios.
"P-please, Your Majesties, your rooms are right this way."
The group made their way up the stairs before disappearing from Alexios's view.
The Bishop reflected on the encounter.
What an... ethereal group. Like nothing I've ever experienced. I must make a good impression!
Alexios ran off to the kitchen to personally oversee preparations.
"Why- its the Salvation war, My Lady!" Vera repeated the bishop's words with venomous bite. "What a mook."
"I did try to warn you to avoid asking such casual questions until we know more about this place." Laszlo said, pouring the contents of a wine bottle into Vera's waiting cup.
"I know, I know. I'm sorry, it was careless of me. Thankfully my [Charm] seemed to take hold of him with little effort, he must have already been disposed towards helping us."
"Indeed, it makes our lives much easier."
Vera took a sip from her glass. Her face scrunched as the liquid hit her tongue.
"Eck— I cannot wait to be rid of this sour taste."
"We will simply have to bear it for a little longer. Unless you want what we took from the bandits?"
Vera sneered. "You still have that bile? I told you to throw it away."
"With all due respect, until we have ensured a stable supply it would be unwise to throw away any of the blood we have already collected."
"I think starvation would be preferable to that vomit."
"Be that as it mayay—" Laszlo said, stashing the wine bottle back into one of the large suitcases which filled the sitting room, "I felt it best the four of us subsist on that 'vomit' to help ration our existing supply."
Vera gave her butler a sour look. She disliked the idea of the others sacrificing their quality of life while she enjoyed all the luxury they could provide. But she also hated the idea of having to drink the rancid blood of filthy bandits.
"Very well, do as you wish. Speaking of you four, where have the others gone?"
"While you were in the bath we all agreed more information was needed. Marshall has gone to the stables to tend to the carriage, while Marceline has gone off to the kitchens to see what they are preparing."
So the twins are trying to get in with the castle staff... In Regency novels from back home, servants were often all too eager to let gossip slip. We shall see if that rule holds true in this new world.
"And what of Carmilla?"
"She asked a servant to escort her to the library."
"Ah. So I'm not the only one sick of sour blood."
"Yes... she said she would try and discern more about the culture of this place. I just hope she can remain focused on that task."
"Ah well, I'm sure it won't be a bother. I'd rather you all enjoy yourselves for tonight, it will take a lot of effort to reshape this place into a fitting home."
Laszlo raised an eyebrow. "So you are certain? This is the place?"
Vera smiled, twirling the Spring Lily between her fingers. "A hot spring town with a grand, gothic castle looming in the distance? It seems perfect to me."
"Then..."
"Yes." Vera stated, finishing the last drops from her goblet and placing back on the table. "Very soon I shall turn Alexios."
Irene stepped through the halls of the castle with as much grace as she could muster. The impossibly beautiful woman who followed her, Carmilla, was one of the Bishop's guests and had requested a visit to the library.
She had served as the Bishop's Steward for near a decade now, and so duty demanded she escort Carmilla to her destination.
Well, that and Irene had to admit the idea of spending time with a gorgeous, erudite woman was rather appealing.
"Here we are, Lady Carmilla." The pair stopped in front of a stone portal, through which Irene could see bookshelves well over fifteen feet tall, each one stuffed full of tomes, scrolls, and all manner of writings.
"Thank you, Irene. And please, just call me Carmilla."
"O-of course, Carmilla."
Best not to overstay and make her uncomfortable. Irene thought.
"Well, I'll leave you to it. If you need anything, please do not be afraid to summon myself or another of the staff."
The Steward turned around and tried to take a few steps away, but was stopped by a hand grabbing the hem of her sleeve.
"If its not too much of a bother..." Carmilla began. "I was actually hoping you would stay and chat with me."
Irene blushed.
"O-oh! Very well then, my Lad- I mean... Carmilla. It would be my pleasure."
Carmilla smiled.
Irene had caught a glimpse of the Lady Vera when they first entered the castle. That woman had a smile which could enrapture the moon and stars— impossible to look away from and almost terrifying in its beauty.
Carmilla's was more plain in comparison, still bearing the grace befitting her station but bearing those subtle blemishes which give a smile its charm and character. It lacked that hypnotic, almost coercive feeling given off by Vera, and Irene found it far more warm and welcoming.
The two wandered into the library, exchanging small talk about their favorite books and authors.
"I must sayay—" Carmilla began. "I am woefully unfamiliar with your country's literature. Is there a text you recommend I start with?"
The woman expertly pulled Irene into conversation. The two speaking for hours on all manner of topics ranging from theology and philosophy, to romantic fiction and sexual proclivities.
Carmilla spoke on each topic with an amount of intelligence and passion which Irene found utterly intoxicating.
"So... your people have quite the feud with the elves, yes?"
"Correct- while the fighting lulls and rises like the tides, it never ceases."
"Why?"
"I'm sorry?"
"It seems to me the elves would be perfectly happy to remain in their forest and left to their business... so unless I misunderstand something it would seem that the Conclave is the one instigating conflict, yes?"
"Well..." Irene felt the impulse to defend her country, but stopped herself. While she may have been a citizen of the Conclave, she was also a rational thinker who shared many of Alexios's misgivings about war.
Were it someone else, she may have given an evasive answer. Enough to satisfy her conversation partner, but nothing concrete enough to imply anything firm one way or another.
Carmilla though...
The idea of trying to justify a pointless invasion to someone who, as far as she knew, was here because her own home was razed by a conquering army, left a sour taste in her mouth.
"The Executive Council tends to pursue its goal of human prosperity with... great zealotry."
"I see. And what do you think of that?"
"...I'd rather we spent our time directly improving the lives of our people, rather than sending them off to die." She hadn't fought with the elves like Alexios, but she had found him huddled on the floor a broken, frightened mess muttering about trees and shadows enough times to know that it wasn't a fate good people should suffer.
Carmilla smiled.
"What a wonderful answer."
Carmilla reached over and took Irene's hand in her own. The Steward blushed, but did not pull away from Carmilla's touch.
"May I tell you something? Something very... very personal?"
"O-of course!"
"...I worry you won't see me the same after I tell you."
"No!" Irene found herself jumping to reassure Carmilla. They had been speaking for only a few hours at this point, but it was a conversation far deeper and more meaningful than Irene had held with anyone other than Alexios himself. Maybe it was naive, but Irene felt Carmilla had been nothing but genuine in all their interactions, and besides, some of the things Irene had said could have been construed as treason.
This would just be a matter of secrets shared between... friends?
Before Irene could fully come to terms with what exactly she thought their relationship was, Carmilla gripped her hand even tighter.
"Promise me. Promise me that you won't think different of me."
"... I promise, Carmilla."
Carmilla nodded, took a deep breath, then spoke.
"I am a Vampire."
Of all the things Irene expected to hear, that was nowhere on the list. It was like a child building up some great threat they faced only to reveal it was the imaginary monster under their bed.
It was just... silly.
And yet.
Irene looked at Carmilla's smile once again.
The third tooth from the center, what should be the stumpy point of a human canine was instead a long, needle sharp fang which went from her upper gums all the way down to her lower jaw.
Irene felt her partner's hands on her own. Smooth, gentle... and icy cold- like a corpse.
It was true.
"H-h-how?" How did she not notice?
Carmilla grimaced.
"I'm sorry. I lied to you. Charmed you. Not enough to totally override your decision making, but just enough that you wouldn't notice the more... obvious signs."
"...Why?"
"Because I owe my life to Lady Vera. Because I cannot risk anything that would put her in danger, and your people, understandably, have a great distrust of those like us."
"Why risk telling me then?"
"Because you are intelligent and rational, and most importantly want what's best for your people."
Irene took a moment to collect herself. She had promised that she would not think less of Carmilla, no matter what, and she intended to keep that promise. But her would-be lover's words implied far more than just Carmilla's true nature.
Irene realized, with deepening horror, that Alexios had welcomed five vampires into their home.
Even if Carmilla could be trusted, what about the others? What about Vera, and her smile which drew obsessive loyalty from even the strongest willed?
"What does your Mistress want?" The Steward found herself asking.
"A home." The Vampire paused for a moment, as if unsure how to continue. "We are from... somewhere beyond this world. While a partial obfuscation, our claim of being refugees was not untrue. My Lady wishes for a new, permanent place to call her home, her domain."
"And what is to become of us who built this place? Who actually call it home?"
Carmilla winced. "In truth? Nothing. Aside from the occasional tithe of blood, there is nothing you could offer my Lady she does not already have, least of all power. Lady Vera is many things, but above all she is hedonistic to a fault, far more concerned with her own whims and pleasures than any grand desires of conquest or domination. And it is well known that the most delicious blood comes from happy, healthy humans who are more than willing to offer it up for free."
"But why me? Why lead me on through this game?"
Carmilla paused a moment. "It was never my goal to lead you on. I tell only the absolute truth when I say I find you intelligent and beautiful, and because of your empathy for your fellow man I believe you to be the right choice to offer my gift."
"Gift? What do you mean?"
Instead of answering, Carmilla took one of her hands away from Irene's. The Vampire hovered her nails, eerily sharp and deadly by Irene's reckoning, above her other wrist.
In a swift motion she drew those nails across her veins, blood spilling out forthwith from her wrist.
Carmilla held out her bleeding wrist towards Irene.
"By drinking my blood, you would become one of us. Turn to a Vampire, possessing a power capable of ensuring my Lady Vera never harms a hair on your people's head."
Irene locked eyes with Carmilla.
"Why? Why risk yourself all for my— our sake?"
The Vampire shrugged. "Honestly? It is far less of a risk than you think. There is very little I can do to fully turn my Lady against me. I find you mortals beautiful and fascinating, and I wish nothing more than to let you live your lives in peace. Seeing as my Lady herself created me, imparting those feelings unto me, I suspect she harbours similar thoughts. Offering you this power is the most effective path I can take to ensure the humans of this land have someone on their side that my Lady will take seriously beyond myself."
Carmilla stayed silent, waiting for Irene to respond. When nothing came, she continued.
"I know it is a lot to ask. An offer like this must seem impossibly suspicious, no matter how I phrase it. If you need time to think, I underdsta—"
Carmilla was interrupted by Irene turning the situation on its head. Grabbing her lover's hand and holding her bleeding wrist up towards herself.
"Its okay, Carmilla. I understand."
Irene knew that what the Vampire said was true. That she meant no harm... and that the 'gift' she offered was meant to allow Irene to protect her home.
"I accept what you offer. I place my trust in the gods... and you."
Irene planted her lips on her lover's wound, the blood spilling into her mouth, and began to drink.
The blood was... sweet. Like fruit.
She kept drinking— drawing in as much of the sanguine nectar as she could.
Irene felt a soreness in her gums which quickly evolved to a warping pain.
Her sense of magic energy, which before was limited to the simple constructs of the four elements that the gods taught, rapidly expanded as Irene became aware of the breath and blood and gore flowing through all the servants loitering nearby the library.
It was overwhelming, and soon Irene found her hold of Carmilla's wrist slipping as she collapsed back into her chair. The edges of consciousness creeping further and further away from her with each passing moment.
Carmilla, for her part, also seemed drained from the interaction. Nonetheless, she maintained a tight grip on Irene's hand.
"Sleep, Love." The Vampire said. "When you wake up... we will have much work ahead of us."
Irene could no longer stay awake. She let the creeping darkness take over her vision and gave herself into the exhaustion.
It would be the last time she let the night pass in mortal sleep.