Embers
Through thick, billowing smoke, clinging heavy to the air, Mido searches the stony commons. Lumi had just finished screaming some form of nonsensical gibberish and vanished into the old shrine. Cruel laughter echoes through the quiet, raising the hair at the base of Mido’s neck.
Grimacing, he crawls across the commons, pressing his back against the cool marble of the fountain, searching for any possible escape. But as he peeks his head over the fountain, Lumi continues to thrash. The vampire’s laughter becomes a manic, insane sound that sinks dread into Mido’s gut. He knows there is no way he can help. I’ll just get myself killed, he thinks as fear claws at his chest.
A bright flash of heat lightning rips through the dark clouds above, casting an violent glow over Cochon. With his gaze locked on the heavens, he is unable to peel his eyes away from the dazzling display. The sky is now painted with a deep, glossy crimson hue—reminiscent of fresh spilled blood.
As if responding to the lightning’s appearance, the clouds expand and darken with angry streaks of red, crackling with energy. A sense of foreboding washes over him as he watches the ominous scene unfolds before his eyes.
He shifts and checks the shrine. As he does, a horrifying crack echoes through Cochon, like linen shredding. Lumi’s foot connects with the vampire’s head, sending blood and bone fragments flying through the air in a crimson mist. But it’s not just the attack that catches Mido’s attention—it’s the look in Lumi’s eyes. They blaze like an inferno, his pupils consumed by intensity. Deep lines etched around his eyes give him the appearance of being physically exhausted, even as he stands before the fiends with a look of determination.
The decapitated vampire falls to his knees at Lumi’s feet, lifeless. Whispering a language that Mido cannot understand, Lumi raises his hand above his head. A halo of pure light materializes above his palm, bright and expanding until it engulfs everything around them in blinding white, hot light. It pulses outwards, and Mido instinctively covers his eyes. But even through his closed eyelids and hands, he can still see the brilliant white glow.
The light intensifies, the earth beneath his feet shaking and rumbling. Ringing fills his ears, growing louder and sharper until it becomes a deafening screech. Torn between the blinding light and piercing screech, he covers his sensitive ears in a futile attempt to block out the noise. His hands dampen with blood dripping from his ear canals. The word of the gods is not meant for any other than the chosen—Mido remembers being told this countless times before.
Desperate to escape the unbearable noise and light, he tucks his head between his knees and tries to shut everything out. But even in this position, the piercing whistle continues to resonate through every fiber of his being.
What is he doing?
The rumble beneath his feet rises, and the white behind his eyelids slowly fades. Opening his eyes, his vision is splotched with dots. He turns back to the shrine. Lumi…
Where the shrine had been, there is now only rubble. Bits of stonework and a few columns are all that remain of what was once a sanctuary of the Faith. He brings his collar over his lips and stares at the destruction. Plumes of smoke rise into the bloody sky along with embers.
“Lumi!” The words leave his lips in a whisper.
He couldn’t have survived.
Bodies of vampires and thralls alike are strewn throughout the rubble, on either side of the fountain is rubble and gore. Mido rises from his crouch and stands at the back of the fountain. Dancing lights fill the sky like dancing stars. A handful at first, but more appear, multiplying until there are hundreds and hundreds more.
Every tale, every fable that Mido has heard about the saints throughout his life is no longer drawn in question. Every wild story, every legend now seems to carry weight.
“LUMI!” Mido calls, voice carrying through the chaos. He wraps his hands around his lips and calls again, unable to hear the sound of his own voice. “LUMI!” He repeats, unsure if his words are even making sound.
Along the central aisle of the shrine, through the plumes of smoke, Lumi stands. The clothing he wears is tattered, the bright woolen parka is blackened, one of the sleeves badly singed. Yet, despite the damage, he appears unharmed. His lips move to words unheard, and the ringing grows louder in Mido’s head. Unsure of what to do, he claps his hands over his ears and continues to shout out to him.
Lumi ignores him with an aloof expression before he tilts his head to the dancing lights. His whip-like tail swings with a measured sway behind him. The whirling lights in the sky descend, quick streaks like falling stars. Bursts of light obfuscate Mido’s vision. He shields his eyes from the light, opening them to witness stony rubble and wooden splinters hail down from the destruction.
The blood from his ears drips down his scalp and over his brow. He presses his hands back over his ears, whispering an inaudible incantation. Warmth flows from his hands, and rushes through him. A sizzling sound forms until he can hear once more. The sounds he hears are equally as violent as the sights. Explosions in the distance erupt, dozens at a time, illuminating the distance in blooming light. The ships he can see from where they stand buckle, rupturing with the impact of the heavenly lights crashing into them.
Mido hurries from behind the fountain, crossing the distance between, nearly smashing into Lumi. Lumi’s eyes are still turned to the sky, wide as saucers. A rage burns pure and deep in his eyes, a look of elation gradually creeping across his features. His lips begin to move, the painful screech reverberating through Mido’s ears. A god is trying to talk to me.
Throughout the history of Talmus, the chosen had always been known to act as vessels of the gods. The duration these chosen could maintain their form while harboring these deities had never been long. But even a moment of divine intervention could render the strongest chosen incapacitated or worse. He’s going to die…
“Just listen!” Mido shouts, shaking Lumi’s shoulders. Lumi is hot to the touch, even through the parka he can feel the heat. “You’re going to kill him!”
Lumi’s lips move again, and Mido falls to his knees, folding his ears down. Lumi steps past him, steam rising from his exposed skin. The rubble slips beneath his boots as he climbs the broken bits of the shrine. Once atop the stony structure, he turns his eyes back to the blood-red sky. Why didn’t I tell Ennui?
The ringing lessens in his ears, the tremendous booms continue in the distance. There were people here.
“Lumi! Not everyone here is under their control! There are people hiding! You can’t just blindly kill everyone!”
The sky wrinkles with displeasure, the lights manifest among the crimson clouds. Lumi ignores his words and turns his nose higher into the air. He draws in a deep breath. But Mido, unwilling to surrender, forces himself up the mound of rubble. Along the jagged stones and rocks, he slips a dozen times. His fingers graze Lumi’s calf, and he looks up with pleading eyes.
“Whoever you are, be you god or demon, please let him go,” Mido whispers, “he has so much hope. His journey shouldn’t end in Cochon. Not here. He’s more than a vessel. You know that! You have to see that!”
His words once again seem to fall upon deaf ears. As he straightens himself on the debris, Mido can see the fires raging in the distance, half the city is engulfed. The snowdrifts that had wanted to pile on the earth melt have melted away, leaving behind a hellscape unlike anything Mido has ever seen. The heat from the fires rushes through the wind against his face.
In the distance along the docks, there is movement. A crowd scurries over the wooden pier, their movement drawing Lumi’s gaze. The wooden pier beneath their feet explodes into splinters. Another thundering boom roars across the city.
My family could be here.
“How can you just kill so indiscriminately?!” Mido shouts, his eyes shaking with rage. “Lumi wouldn’t, Lumi would never!”
Once more he gazes about the destruction, buildings in the far distance, the outskirts of Cochon are ablaze. Fires as far as his vision allows release billowing black smoke into the sky. Screeches sound through the fire, monstrous sounds that send a shiver along Mido’s spine. Within mere moments, the entity inside Lumi had unmade hundreds of years of labor, lifetimes of work. There had to be a better way.
Lumi turns to Mido, his eyes rolling into his head. “Mido,” he rasps.
Mido barely has time to act, he catches Lumi in his arms, tottering down the mound of rubble with him. A final series of explosions sound throughout the city, and within seconds the blood-red sky fades to the gray hue it was before. Lumi lays limp against Mido at the base of the rubble, his body heavy. The fall has inflicted both their bodies with scratches and scrapes, Mido’s leg is wracked with pain; a dull ache just above his ankle.
Heat lightning rips through the clouds, thunder rumbles overhead. Mido pushes Lumi to the side and forces himself to his feet, a yelp breaks from his lips. He pulls up the fabric to reveal the shard of glass penetrating his leg. Rivulets of his blood drip around the yellow stained-glass. A pained shout escapes his lips as he pulls at the shard, but it’s embedded far too deep.
“Heavens.” He groans, fingers shaking over the glass. Even subtle movements bring a gush of crimson surging over his leg.
He sighs then bites down on the collar of his tunic, his teeth grit hard enough against the wool that he can feel the fibers tearing. The pain is excruciating, but he forces the shard from his leg with a jerky tug. A squeal of pain. The shard shatters over the rubble beneath him. The flow of blood intensifies, running down his leg, flowing into his boot. Eustes had only taught him a few invokations here and there. The healing methods he had learned were rudimentary at best. His eyelids flutter, his hand presses against the gushing blood. He mutters a prayer and hopes his incantation works. Healing requires focus and passion, and at this moment, he’s unsure if he can manage either.
“Auxilium,” he mutters, warmth flows from his hands and wraps around him like a fleece. The wound stitches closed, the flow ceases. With a sigh of relief, he leans back against the rubble, massaging the area where the wound had been. “What did you do?” he asks, glancing at Lumi from the corner of his eyes.
The fires rage, their flames like greedy hands reaching for the heavens. The streets are illuminated. Despite Lumi’s size, every attempt Mido makes at carrying him ends in failure. Time and time again, he drops him or stumbles. Finally, Lumi’s feet slip from his arms, and he lays back into the rubble with a sigh. The exhaustive effects of healing make him feel as though he is melting. His eyelids grow heavy, the labors of the entire evening seem to weigh on him at once.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve just done…? Cochon is part of the Empire i-if they find out what happened, they’ll hunt you down. But I guess that doesn’t matter to you, does it?” he questions under his breath. “Only one thing really matters to you. Isn’t that right?”
After some time, the snow starts to fall again, melting as it touches their skin. Mido turns his gaze to the manor in the distance. There is no movement or light, only the stars in the heavens and the burning city.
“When we met, I never would have expected you to be the Saint of Flames. You’re nothing like any of the chosen. I grew up reading about them, you know? In Loria with Augustus. He’d take me to the archives, and we would read for hours and hours. Almost all the saints that have much written about them are described as being stoic. Thoughtful.” He snorts softly to himself. “Then there’s you. You’re nothing like them, are you? You have such an optimistic personality, always smiling, always filled with hope.”
He forces himself to stand, but with a loud grunt, he stumbles down the remainder of the pile.
He huffs. “When I was younger, I used to imagine what it would be like if I had been one of the chosen. How everyone would look up to me, how I could rise above my status. Maybe my family would have shown up, been proud of the person I could have been. I-I am not envious. I realize now that had I been in your position, I don’t think I ever could have been up to the task. There is a reason the gods chose you.”
Thunder rumbles overhead, the snow comes down in dense swirls. The mixture of the wet cold touching his cheek with the warmth of the fires nearby is oddly comforting.
“You’re brave, Lumi. You ran into a city filled with monsters to save Khimi. If the roles were reversed… if I had to save Augustus. I-I would like to think I would have done the same. I want to think that I could be that brave. But the truth is, I would have stayed by his side, too afraid. Too scared to face these monsters. Ennui was right to call me an egg.”
Mido grunts as he places his arms beneath Lumi’s legs and the center of his back to lift him. Using what little remaining strength he has, he heaves Lumi up against his chest and hobbles through the city, ascending the hill back to the forest. The dull ache in his leg remains, each step proving more difficult than the last.
“I don’t like to think of myself as an egg. I am j-just not like you guys. Ennui is terrifying, Khimi is scary… you can be scary. Hells, you kicked off that vampire’s head,” he says, struggling with Lumi’s weight. Once past the fountain, he raises Lumi up against his body. “And I saw you kill that one, I watched the whole thing from up the hill. You slayed that woman…”
At the base of the hill, his breathing becomes more labored. “I can’t e-even tell you,” he grunts. “When we first met, how enamored I was with you… but I realized that whatever you felt for Khimi, you could never feel for me. I-I was upset at first, I just couldn’t understand—”
Mido dips Lumi onto the ground before him, his body is gently cradled by the soft blanket of snow. Three pairs of crimson eyes stare down at him from the top of the hill. Instinctively, he reaches for the shotel, only to remember its location on the bottom of the Lorian sea. His breathing is unsteady from carrying Lumi, his body sore from training, his mind is numb from the exhaustive healing magick.
Raising his hand before him, he shouts the incantation most familiar to him. Ventus. It had been the first spell he ever learned and was the easiest for him to master. Wind encompasses the area around him and blows at his back. The first set of eyes is met with the howling winds, which rip through the snow-covered hill. The snow lifts in a flurry as crimson eyes rush down the hill to meet him. The direction the wind travels is clear through the snow. It smashes into the one moving quickest, his body tumbles towards them, crumpling over the icy cobblestones. He begins to rise, only to fall back onto his knees. The remaining assailants hurry through the snow, undeterred by Mido’s display.
The thralls glide down the snow with ease. Mido’s attempts to catch them off guard with the same trick fails. The winds criss-cross through the snow and finally meet their target. The first stumbles, then regains their footing, but there is no time for Mido to defend himself. The creature descends upon him with such speed and ferocity that they both collapse backwards into the snow. He calls out to Lumi, reaching through the snow. The pale figure snarls atop him, spittle drooling down its cheek. He does everything within his power to keep his savage attacker at bay. Kicking does little to deter him, the creature bites, teeth snapping. Mido gasps as the realization hits him. These aren’t people, so far gone, these creatures are detached from whatever humanity had been there before. From the corner of his eyes, he watches others gather over Lumi.
He closes his eyes and focuses his energies on his hand. There is no joy in ending a life, no matter whose, but there is no time to think. The shotel appears, the hilt pressed against his palm. The blade swings in a short, decisive arc. Blood splatters across his cheeks, the creature’s throat split open before his eyes. Back on his feet, Mido dashes to Lumi’s aid. The creature before him snarls and looks up, blood dripping from the crimson lips. Lumi.
“Ossa Terra!”
The words are uttered quick and without thought. The earth shakes around him, spiny growths of stone curve from the ground, piercing the air. The beast leaps back, evading the moving earth. Mido huffs, his stamina depleted. The heavy use of magick has already left him drained. The shotel in his hand vanishes in a sparkle of light, and he falls to his knees. His vision blurs with tears; there is no strength left in him to stand. The creature bounds at him through the snow, running on all fours like a beast.
“I’m sorry, Augustus,” he whispers, as the creature falls upon him, sharp nails tearing through the woolen jacket. “I wish I was stronger.”
Fists pummel against his face, pain fills him. Every effort he makes to shield himself fails, his hands fall to his sides in the snow beside him. The words for various incantations run through his head. Help me. He looks at Lumi, his body still limp.
A silver light flies across his blurred vision. Sching. A thump in the snow. He turns his head to the side and opens his eyes as wide as he can through the swollen socket. The eyes of the creature stare back at him through its severed head. Mido turns his head to look up, the pain in his neck is so severe it hurts to move at all. A woman stands above him, her silvery braid hangs behind her. The blade in her hand is thin like a needle—thinner than the rapiers even Ennui brought them. It reflects the light in such a way, the steel appears almost as white as the snow. The blade returns to its sheathe with a flick of her wrist. The woman looks down at him, her eyelids pinched closed. There is coldness about her, her skin is white as milk, her expression unmoving, unreadable.
“W-who are you?” Mido asks, pushing himself up by his elbows.
Initially, the woman does not respond. She stands in silence, surveying the surroundings, her eyes still closed. “It doesn’t matter,” she replies, voice curt and cutting.
It takes every bit of effort for Mido to rise to his feet. “We need help,” he whispers. “I need to get him back. I-I don’t think I can carry him.”
His words seem not to touch her. She looks about thoughtfully. “This Saint of Flames is different from the others,” she whispers to herself.
Fear grips Mido. “Leave him alone,” he whispers, repeating the words again in a shout as the woman takes her first steps towards Lumi.
The woman glances back over her shoulder, and a flash of her fangs reveals her monstrous nature. “Why should I?”
“H-he’s a good person.”
“Is he?” the woman asks, a taunting smirk on her lips. “I don’t believe that this is the work of a ‘good’ person.”
Mido’s head pounds, his thoughts a jumbled mess. “He did it for the person he loves. Because if he didn’t, they’d die.” The shotel forms in his hand, only to vanish in a blink.
“Spare me your reasons. I have no intention of harming him,” she says with a surety. “Why would I have saved you otherwise?”
Mido eyes the dead bodies around him. There are far more than the initial three. “Then what do you want from us?”
“I’m simply repaying a debt.”
Mido massages his temples, the pain from the attack coursing through him. “A debt? To Lumi?” he questions. The words sound ridiculous, even to him. Stumbling forward, he drags his feet through the snow.
“Doggy, sit still. You’re going to make those injuries worse. If you spread your blood through the snow, you’ll just draw more of them here.”
“Why did you kill them?” he questions, forcing himself forward, leg dragging behind him. He releases a growl as he inches closer. “You’re one of them, aren’t you?!”
The woman laughs, a shrill and harsh sound. “Don’t compare me with those beasts. I am far above anything they could ever hope to be.”
“And what of us? If you’re so superior to them, what are we to you?” he questions, his voice shaking. “Why would you choose to save us?”
She sighs, then takes a knee at Lumi’s side. “It has been ages since I’ve felt the thirst for blood. As we age, our hunger diminishes. At times I must force myself to remember that I require sustenance. All the same, to my kind. To me. You are nothing more than food.” She pauses, brushing Lumi’s hair from his eyes. “But I have a debt. And it has been ages since I could repay it. There have been others that came before. Those influenced by the sun priests, sent to the north on ‘holy missions.’”
“What are you saying?” Mido whispers. Sinking into the snow beside the woman, he studies her.
“My debt is ancient, but it will be paid tonight.”
“What is this debt?”
“Would you like a taste first?” she asks, bringing Lumi up in her arms slightly. Her lips, the slightest shade of pink and dusted with frost, brush along Lumi’s cheek before her fangs sink down into the softness of his lip.
Mido gasps audibly. “Don’t!” he shouts.
She does not heed his call, her lips move against Lumi’s, forcing his mouth open in a thirsty kiss.
Paralyzed, Mido can only whisper, “Please. Stop.”
She pulls back, the expression on her face has changed. With her head tilted to the sky, tears glisten along the lines of her closed eyes. “Sun and summer, no one tastes like this,” she murmurs, shifting to Mido, panting erratically. “I can see it, you want a taste of him, don’t you?”
She offers the boy up like a treat and no matter how hard he fights against it, there is something alluring about her words that draw him in. Like a moth to a flame, he edges closer.
Mido’s chin trembles, unsure of how to answer. “I-I don’t.”
His heart thumps faster in his chest, betraying him.
“Your heart says otherwise, puppy. Come, come, he’s perfect,” she whispers, each word echoing like a song in his mind. Soft and soothing, like warm milk on a cold night.
Mido’s movements feel methodical, almost unwanted, but necessary. Lumi is limp in her arms, weak but breathing, a red line drips from his lips.
“Come, puppy,” she encourages again, lifting Lumi’s head towards Mido. “Just a quick taste. Don’t think too hard.”
He watches Lumi’s chest rise and fall, the blood painting a slow line down his chin. He brings his lips against Lumi’s, plump and soft against his own. The taste of blood blooms across his tongue. Unsure of why, he presses his mouth harder against Lumi’s wanting more, tasting more. It is just as she said, he’s like the warmth of a sunny day against his skin. His breath is soft and fragrant, inviting. And for a moment, he is filled with resentment, filled with envy that he has tasted something he could never have, something he should never have. Filled with sorrow because he wishes he could. His fingers move across Lumi’s body, wanting to take him from the pale woman, his lips still connected and moving.
“Enough.” Seething, she knocks Mido back. His eyes still linger on Lumi’s lips. “Greedy puppy.”
“Wh-why does he taste like that?” he whispers, wiping his lips on his sleeve as he stares.
Frustrated tears roll down his cheeks. The pale figure’s words are barely audible as she speaks. His eyes still locked on to Lumi’s plump, smooth lips, smeared red with blood.
Mido interrupts her abruptly, stopping whatever speech she had been giving. “W-what is this debt, what did you do?” he asks, forcing his gaze back to her.
She clicks her tongue, her lips begin to move, only to stop. Her tongue rolls over her lips, painting the pale lines with a stroke of blood. The line of her jaw clenches. “When I was first changed, the Saint of Flames spared my life. My maker, among others, had been vanquished. Routed within moments by the sun priests. I waited for her to kill me, but she chose mercy instead, leaving me with a bit of wisdom. She told me that I was not the monster that the world believed me to be. That there is always a choice, and that she hoped one day I would help others see that truth. Those words meant more to me than any ever spoken. They have, and will always, linger in my mind.”
“Really?” Mido casts a sidelong glare. “Have you lived by those words?”
Her lips twitch at the corners. “You don’t believe me? Can’t say I blame you. It is within our nature to deceive others. I don’t need to lie to you. If I wanted to make you believe me, I could do that too. So how about you trust me? Just a hint will be enough.”
Mido breathes through his mouth, the fog of his warmth breath curls before him. “What are you going to do with him?”
“Bring him somewhere safe. I doubt he will live either way. He invoked the power of a god, his body may not have been strong enough to host the divine,” she mutters and lifts him effortlessly. His body rests limp in her arms, his clothing ripped and torn. She starts to climb the hill. “Are you coming, dog?”
“Where are we going?” Mido questions as he takes his first steps forward. The weight of his body proves to be too much, and he crumples into the snow.
She stops and turns back. Without making a sound, she approaches. Treating Lumi as though he were a porcelain doll, she places him tenderly in the snow. “You exhausted your strength. Overexerted yourself performing spells and magick beyond your scope,” she states flatly. Her closed eyes seem to take all of Mido in.
He shivers, shifting his gaze away. “I had to do something.”
“I can’t fault you for wanting to save your friend, but you should understand the importance of self-preservation,” she whispers. The wind blows her braid behind her, the platinum hair sweeps against her shoulder. “Canis, can you trust me?”
“What choice do I have?” Mido whispers, his fingers clench into the snow with a subtle crunch.
No part of him wants to trust the woman, nor does he understand her. Her scent is unlike anything he has experienced. Beneath the looming scent of death is something fragrant, calming. Chrysanthemums. The flower, often grown throughout Lorian gardens, could be found in sun-filled valleys and among fertile soil. The scent brings credence to her story.
He looks up, boring holes into her.“Do you miss it, being alive?” he asks, breaking the silence.
Her lips twist back into a smirk. “You’re smart for a dog,” she whispers. She reaches for a bottle at her hip, then shoves it against his lips. “Drink,” she insists. “You’ll feel revitalized.” A hand threads through his hair, holding him still.
Mido closes his mouth, his lips pucker against the glass lip. The scent of herbs closes off his senses, and without hesitation his tongue laps at the thick liquid. The taste is strong, the liquid harsh down his throat. His legs kick through the snow, wanting to resist. Unable to stop himself, he clings onto her arm, drinking deep until he forces himself to stop for breath. With a loud gasp, he breathes as if taking his first breath. His eyes open wide, the sounds of the crackling flames, the impossibly soft sound of the falling snow. It all sounds crisp, clear. From behind his eyes, down to the tips of his toes, a prickling touch courses through him.
Her smirk startles him. “How do you feel?”
“Fine,” Mido admits, squeezing his palm. A strange tingle flows through him.
“Good, I was reserving that tincture for him,” she says, ripping the bottle out of his grip. “Now come on,” she says, lifting Lumi again.
“We’re staying at the manor on top of the hill,” Mido says, wanting to trust.
“I’m aware.”
Mido follows close behind. They pause at the top of the hill before turning into the forest. The fires continue to run wild, an occasional explosions rings out, filling the night with haunting screams. Great plumes of smoke rise over the landscape. The starry night, obscured by destruction.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” she questions in awe.
Mido bites his lip. “How can you see it?”
“Same as you. Smell, taste, touch. The rumble beneath your feet, the sound of the magick weaving through the air,” she starts pensively. Her brow pinches. “If you listen hard enough, you can hear it.”
Mido draws closer, brushing against her as she enters the forest. “I’ve never heard magick.”
“Song was the first form of magick discovered on Talmus. The incantations that are spoken, they too are a form of song. A quicker weave of magick. Magick such as yours comes from the power of faith. The faith the people have in their gods.”
“How do you know so much?” Mido questions quietly, rushing to keep up with her silent strides.
The woman stops at the start of the forest, a look of contemplation clear on her face. “When you live as long as I have, you’re bound to gain knowledge. Knowledge in things you desire to know more about and things you have no desire to know, all the same. I was never gifted in magick, but I sought it out all the same.”
Curious, Mido continues his questioning. “You said you were above them, the ones you killed?”
She exhales and releases a knowing chuckle. “It doesn’t matter. We won’t know each other long enough to tell you this story. Besides, if I feed you my tale, you may look upon me with pity in your heart. I would much rather you treat my kind as the monsters they are.”
“I-I don’t pity you, I just want to know. What would make someone like you so much different than the others.”
“There are others like me, that much I can assure you. I’ve met many and have taken many of their lives. My loyalty is to Emil and my own sense of self-preservation. Something that you yourself should learn.”
The freezing air hits Mido, he swiftly bundles his arms into his jacket. “And if he found out that you’re helping the Saint of Flames?”
An airy chuckle passes through her lips, and she twists her head from side to side. “I would surely be brought into question, but that is why there will be no witnesses left in Cochon. There are only a handful remaining. There will be none before the sun rises today.”
Mido’s teeth clatter. The wind picks through a clearing in the forest. The conifer’s pointy branches hang overhead like jagged nails. “You’re so sure of yourself, what if any of them live?”
“They won’t.”
Mido scoffs, glancing up at the manor easing into view. “There aren’t many hours left before dawn.”
“There are enough.”
Mido remains quiet for the remainder of the journey. They arrive just outside the iron gates of the burnt-out building. The woman turns to Mido and holds Lumi, her arms extended. An air of uncertainty hangs over him as he looks up at her, studying her features in the dark of night. Even through the shades of gray, he can tell that she must have been quite young before her untimely death. Perhaps even the same age as himself. Lumi’s body slides into his arms, his warmth is almost scalding against his bare skin. Never could he imagine being in the company of two opposites. The woman’s touch had been frigid, her fingers colder than the snow.
“We’re done,” she says, shifting to face the manor. “Never speak of this again. If we cross paths, we may not be on the same side.”
“She was right,” Mido whispers. He shuffles Lumi awkwardly in his arms. “You can show the world that you’re different.”
“No, I cannot. The blood of thousands stains my hands. I am no different from a warlord. No different from a devil. Emil ordered that Cochon be overtaken, and I ensured that it was. I killed the Lorian consul. He groveled at my feet before I broke his neck open and fed the young ones. I wanted to urge Loria to wage war on our kind. I thought surely the empire will not sit by while their newest possession is overcome with evil?”
Mido places a hand on the gate and shoves against it. The loud creaking echoes through the empty, snow-covered yard. “If you want to die so badly… why don’t you kill yourself?”
She scoffs. “Just because I miss my humanity does not mean I wish to suffer mortality. There is greatness in being undead. Yet, there is suffering too. Never knowing the touch of the sun. The taste of food or drink once savored on my lips. Where beastkin’s senses and desires are heightened, ours are only dulled to nothing. Our emotions border apathetic. The more we age, the less we feel.”
“It’s never too late to change,” Mido whispers, the gate closes behind him with a bang.
The woman turns away and tosses her braid over her shoulder. “Never speak a word of this. Not. A. Word.”
“I promise.”