Disclaimer: I own neither Bloodborne or The Witcher. This work is merely fanfiction, and as such, earns me no income whatsoever. Please don't sue me, I'm really poor.
"Remember the last time you were here?"
Geralt thought back to the last time he visited Oxenfurt. It was just after the war with Nilfgaard was over. Peace had returned to the city, however, many important things had been lost. Many men had died, knowledge lost, and the emotional baggage that lingered from the war.
"It has been a while," said Geralt. He saw that time had indeed healed the scars on the city. The people on dirt road they trotted along was busy, with folk travelling in and out of the city. Merchants hawked their wares by the side, even though they were still on the outskirts of the city. It must mean that public security was good and that criminal activities were low if they were that confident to do business so far out of the city.
"I must insist that you are mistaken!"
Well, it didn't seem to be all that well.
"Witch Hunters," whispered Eskel.
Coarse and angry looking men in the leather uniform of the order surrounded a middle-aged man further up the path. They appeared to be accosting the man as bystanders passed and whispered from the sidelines, not daring to interfere.
"What are ye?!" demanded a witch hunter with a misshapen nose, shoving the man in front of him with a single hand. His other hand held a weird stick with silver cylindrical bells. "The Wand of Silverlight reacted to you! Are you a monster or a mage? It'll only sound at things that don't belong in this world!"
"That bauble is nothing but a toy!" The man being accosted adjusted his tousled jerkin. "Don't pretend it's anything else but! Not even an arrow's flight ago did it sound from a man's vegetables!"
"And we did right by it by chopping 'em cabbages like the foul spawn of evil that they were!"
"Wand of Silverlight?" said Geralt to Eskel. "Wasn't that the thing that travelling merchant tried to sell us back at Kaer Morhen a decade ago?"
"Yeah. Vessemir tossed him out and threatened to feed him to a kikkimora if he ever came back there."
"I remember," smiled Geralt. "Got a good laugh out of it. Thought he'd pop a vein when the merchant pulled out a gold-plated sword claiming that it was better than the silver swords we use. Lambert had to hold him back from using the sword on the merchant."
"Good times."
Once the witchers got closer, Geralt was surprised to find a familiar face. The man being accosted was none other than his old friend Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy. A good friend of his that worked as a barber-surgeon and has a good taste for liquor, which he likes to brew himself, even going so far as picking up the materials from places far and abroad.
He was also a very real and very powerful higher vampire.
"You either come with us or we can cut you down where you stand!" The witch hunter pulled out his sword, no doubt already sure he would do the latter.
"There a problem here?" Geralt parked roach next to them.
Another witch hunter seemed to recognize them by the swords on their back and whispered something quickly to his overzealous comrade. Regis was quick to recognize Geralt, of course, but stayed silent to see how he would play this out. The vampire was a pacifist, but that doesn't mean he'd let these men kill him in cold-blood.
"Witchers?" snorted the witch hunter. "Like we need you freaks protecting our own. Can't you see us real men cleansing the world with the light of the Eternal Fire? Be on your way. This man is to be taken into our custody for further interrogation."
"And that's according to that bauble of yours?" said Geralt.
"It is a Wand of Silverlight! Not a bauble!" The witch hunter was red in the face. "It can reveal evil just by pointing it at its direction. This device is a very valuable and very reliable item that can only be used by men of true character. Men with doubt in their minds cannot possibly see through its miracles!"
"Straight from the pamphlet," whispered Eskel.
Geralt pulled his witcher medallion from inside his armor. "See this? It's a witcher's medallion. It vibrates whenever it senses the presence of monsters or magic close by. It's what all witchers wear and use in our profession for generations. Tested and proven with our lives." He held it towards Regis. There was no sign of it reacting whatsoever. "Satisfied?"
"But this bauble—!"
"—must have cost you ten crowns, when it isn't even worth one. You got swindled. Let me guess, a travelling merchant sold it to you for a hundredth of its true cost because he knows you have what it takes to make this world a better place with it?"
The witch hunter grimaced. No doubt he remembered that exact line from said merchant.
"Piece of advice?" said Geralt. "Even if you had something as convenient as a witcher's medallion, it wouldn't be able to tell you what's evil or what's not. It's not that easy. You'll have to figure that out yourself. Hopefully you'll find that not all things are as evil as they seem. Kind of like that cabbage you slaughtered. It may be disgusting for some, but it's good for you."
"Damn piece of junk!" The witch hunter threw his bauble on the ground. "Come on, lads! That lying piece of horseshit might still be around!"
As soon as the men were out of sight, Regis went and picked up the dropped item, examining it with some amusement. "The things men do to make even a single coin never ceases to amaze me."
"It got you, didn't it?" smirked Geralt. "I might have to reconsider its uselessness since it seemed to work on higher vampires, unlike my medallion."
"Oh?" Regis smiled as he threw the bauble away, sinking into a pit of mud. "And I suppose you'll be adding carrots, cabbages, tomatoes, and other vegetables to your bestiary?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves here. Unlike those men, I like to think myself more intellectually capable. Tomato is a fruit, not a vegetable. It gets a free pass, for the time being."
Geralt unsaddled himself and dropped to the ground, where he held arms with the vampire and greeted each other with warmth.
"It's been a long time, Geralt," said Regis. "I do wish we'd meet in under better circumstances, though."
"I'm fine with it. Having a friend like Dandelion, you get used to meeting friends in less than merry circumstances and be ready to dive in and pull them out of it."
"Married life hasn't settled him?"
"Had to rescue him from some drowners after he was thrown off a river by 'Jealous men that has not even a single taste bud for art.' Priscilla can't watch him all the time."
"So same as always," nodded Regis.
Geralt and Eskel decided to walk the rest of the way with Regis. Their horses needed the rest anyway and the city was close. It was nice to catch up with an old friend. Geralt hadn't seen Regis since that time at Toussaint. Given his trouble with other vampires then, it's understandable why they haven't met for such a long time.
"Not that I'm unhappy to see you, Regis," said Geralt, "But what are you doing here? Is that thing with the higher vampires over?"
Regis sighed. "It will never be over, Geralt. What I had done is something that cannot be forgiven by my kind. It's not something time can heal. As for why I am here… well, I came here to investigate a rather important matter."
"Something I should know?"
The vampire seemed reluctant until he said, "…A week or two ago, a higher vampire is said to have been killed somewhere here in Velen. I don't suppose you had anything to do with that?"
"Came across a few lesser vamps that needed killing, but no higher vampires," said Eskel. He'd been quiet around the vampire, but only now did he break it since the topic became work related. Whilst he trusted Geralt's judgement, he was still lukewarm to the idea of having a vampire as a friend.
"A higher vampire isn't so easy to kill," said Geralt. "Could've been a mage or even maybe another witcher. Still, would be quite the feat to kill one. Though, I don't see why you're interested in this? It's not every day you hear about it, but it does happen. Why the need to investigate it?"
"Whilst it's not impossible for us to be killed, you need only look to my own experiences to confirm that, it is a lot harder for us to be killed permanently," said Regis.
Higher vampires, unlike the lesser species of their kind, are far more powerful in almost every way than even the most dangerous of monsters. Aside from their numerous abilities such as, turning invisible, mental manipulation, invulnerability to sunlight, fire, and a multitude of other characteristics that make them far more formidable than most kinds of monsters a witcher may face, they also have unbelievable regenerative powers that allow them to return to life after their supposed "death." Regis himself had been ripped apart and melted into glass by a mage before. Though it took many years, the vampire did eventually return to the world of the living.
"Permanently?" Geralt raised an eyebrow in question. "Killed by a higher vampire?"
It was the only way that a higher vampire can be killed, as was what Regis had done in Toussaint that earned him the ire of his kind. It was one of the few crimes that their kind will not tolerate.
"No, Geralt." Regis shook his head. "That is the problem. The higher vampire was not killed by our own. It was done by someone else. At least, so I was told."
"How can you be sure?"
"There was another higher vampire—a survivor of that encounter. It is through her familiars that I heard the news. She sent them out wide across the lands to the ears of every one of our kind, pleading to help her as she had been injured and unable to flee far from her pursuer. Though the case of someone other than a vampire permanently killing one of our own is ludicrous and begs investigation, the majority of us will most likely choose to ignore her pleas."
"Not like I expected much from vampires," said Eskel, "But why won't they help her?"
"Many of us like to think us better than our lesser blood-drinking kin," said Regis proudly. "However, there are still quite a lot of us that cannot quench their thirst for blood. This higher vampire had been found to have been secretly doing so. In a most deplorable manner as well. As such, she is disdained by those of us who do not." He sighed. "Still, there will likely be some sympathizers who will answer her call. I can't say that all of us have chosen the better path. Some will not leave behind our blood-soaked ways."
Higher vampires can blend in undetectable in human society. They do not need to feed on blood like the common vampires that plague the lands. Most are actually law-abiding citizens in wherever country they dwell in, usually with power and riches that they've taken for themselves using their supernatural abilities.
"The one who killed the higher vampire—know who it is?" Geralt had a suspicion of who it might be. "The other vampire must have said something."
"Unfortunately, no. Her message was short and panicked. She did not spare much detail into it aside from what had happened and her asking for help."
Geralt glanced at his fellow witcher, who nodded his understanding. "I don't suppose you need our help with this, Regis? Seeing as if you continue to investigate this, you'll likely meet your brethren… and most likely attack you on sight for what you did. No doubt the killing of another higher vampire would put them on edge too. You probably won't even get a chance to speak."
"That is… a likely course to happen," admitted Regis. "If it were only me and the surviving higher vampire, it may have been more civil. Even with my crime, she wouldn't attack without greeting me first."
"Sounds like you know this vampire?"
"I do," nodded Regis. "And so do you, in fact."
"What…?"
Regis stopped walking and turned to Geralt with all seriousness and answered, "The higher vampire… you met her in Beauclair—Orianna. She's the higher vampire that survived the encounter."
After they walked passed the bridge connecting to the city of Oxenfurt, the high walls of the city seemed much darker and foreboding now that the witchers knew what to expect inside. Somewhere hidden within its walls are a nest of blood-drinking higher vampires. It is in this large Redanian city, a bustling and bawdy haven for students, scholars, artists, and merchants, that they must seek out a single woman… the predator or the prey. Of both they are unsure which is which.
Two weeks ago…
"My lady, the night is upon us. Though we are close to the village of Mulbrydale, I'm afraid travelling in the darkness is much too dangerous. We must seek shelter."
The light of the sun was quick to extinguish. Lady Maria and her witch hunter companion, Byron Tralfor, had ridden from Lurtch village after hunting down monsters in the area. They had stayed there for a week, Lady Maria offering them her aid in dispatching monsters and their nests, before setting off in the morning.
"There!" said Byron. "I see a light! It's a building made of stone. Curious, I don't remember this place being here a few years ago. We need only ask the people for shelter. I'm sure they will gladly assist us, my lady."
Lady Maria nodded her agreement.
The building was far larger than Byron had thought it to be. It was easily twice the size of the stone abbey from his home town. Though all was quiet, the single burning lamp by the doorway indicated that it was inhabited.
"Is there anyone inside?" The witch hunter pounded hard on the double doors to the building. "We are travelers seeking shelter from the darkness. By the light of the Eternal Fire, I swear we are people of good faith."
The rattling of chains can be heard and opening of a lock. The door opened slightly ajar to reveal the eyes of a young woman. She stared at the witch hunter before moving on to Lady Maria. Her eyes seemed to widen a bit at seeing her before moving back to the witch hunter.
"The Eternal Fire?" she asked Byron. "A witch hunter?"
"Yes," nodded Byron. "I am of the order. The lady beside me is of foreign lands, and I guide her to the city of Novigrad. Kind woman, I do not ask for your hospitality, though it would be appreciated. We simply seek shelter for the night to pass."
"A moment, please."
The door was once more locked. All was silent outside as they waited for the woman to come back. At least the lamp gave them some small refuge from the night, cold as it was. After a few minutes of waiting, the door opened wide. Standing inside to greet them was the young woman from earlier, smiling warmly at them. The light from the torches made her features clear. A lovely young woman with an oval face and full lips.
"The Orphanage of Warm Hearth welcomes you!"
Byron stepped inside to the lit halls of the building, followed slowly by Lady Maria from behind. The witch hunter seemed perplexed as he gazed at the magnificent arches and well-furnished hall of the orphanage.
"This place is an orphanage?"
"Yes," nodded the dark-haired woman. "My name is Cara. I am one of the caretakers here."
Cara gestured for them to follow. They passed the long hall, moving deeper inside. Though it was chilling to the bone outside, warm air filled the hall.
"I must confess, I had never heard of this place." Byron marveled at the architecture and other decorations. His hand traced the oiled wood of a canvas. "Does this not seem a little too extravagant for an orphanage? Especially one so far from the city. The prices on some of the furniture alone could probably feed a whole village for a week."
Cara giggled in response. "Our orphanage is sponsored by wealthy nobles from Oxenfurt. The lady—she visits us often, and desires this place to be helpful whilst also being pleasing to her eyes. In fact, it is with her permission that she has graciously asked that you join her for supper."
"We are to join a noble for supper?" said Byron, surprised. "That is most gracious of her. Our hosts are most kind, Lady Maria. I am happy to know that you will not have to suffer my bumbling attempts of what may pass off as a meal."
"You think too little of yourself, Byron." Maria gave him a gentle smile. "I have no complaints of what you have worked hard to make. I am grateful for it."
"I am but a humble man of my order," nodded Byron appreciatively.
"Well, your supper here will be anything but humble, I'm afraid," laughed Cara. She opened a door into the dining area. Sitting on the far end of a long table was a beautiful woman with red hair. Her dress and jewelry were obviously of fine make and expensive, yet they were only second to her beauty. She greeted them, raising her cup of wine at their arrival.
"Greetings and welcome, weary travelers. I offer you hospitality within these walls. Sit with us and share our meals. I only ask that you tell us your stories, to better pass the time in enjoyment."
"Thank you," bowed Byron, taking off his cap. "Your hospitality is most appreciated, my lady."
"Please," laughed the noblewoman, the light of the candles flickering in her eyes. "Such formalities are best left in the city. I came here for a little respite from all of that. Call me Orianna."
The supper was magnificent. Roasted chicken that was moist to the cut, succulent pig with an apple on its mouth, mouth-watering potato and stew that teases the nose—It was a feast alright. The kind that only nobles could afford to eat. There was only one mild problem.
"Is the food not to your liking?"
Byron's frowning and hesitation mixed on his face had been quite obvious. It was, however, understandable—his hesitation. The last time he'd seen a feast was on that horrid night when a witch had put a glamour on the butchered limbs and bodies of monsters and men. Meat from his own comrades was added to it soon after. Any man, after seeing that, would be wary at any food set at their table.
"It's a… uh, quite exquisite," he said nervously. "So much so that I have trouble believing what I'm seeing…"
He most likely would have continued to stare at the food until the light of dawn had Lady Maria not taken the first bite. She had cut a small piece of the roasted meat and delivered it to her mouth.
"It is quite savory," she said.
Seeing her eat, Byron seemed to have finally found his appetite, as he now devoured the food before him with much fervor. His enthusiasm surprised their hosts quite a bit due to his earlier reluctance. After taking a few more bites and emptying a glass or two, their host asked of them their travel.
"I'm afraid Sir Ballard and I have not traveled much past Oxenfurt and this place for quite some time." A tall nobleman beside Orianna bowed to them. Unlike Orianna, he seemed to look at them with more coldness in his eyes. "Your tales we would gladly welcome as we let the food simmer a bit in our bellies."
With some food and some wine in his stomach, the witch hunter was more than happy to tell them his tale. He told them of how he came to be with the order, how he joined them after his family had been killed by packs of ghouls during the great Northern war with Nilfgaard. He had no one else and nothing but the burning hatred for the monsters that had taken his family from him. Though his family was slain, their village was saved thanks to the arrival of men of the Eternal Fire, witch hunters. It was then that he offered himself truly and faithfully to the order.
"A sad tale indeed," nodded Orianna. "One that is far too common among us nowadays. The war had left the kingdoms weakened as the monsters run amok in the lands they've devastated. Though the kingdoms of men are at peace, the monsters of old have flourished. Due to that second Conjunction of Spheres, the world is once more beset by terrible creatures from other worlds we once thought extinct. There are even cases of new ones we've never known appearing. Only near the major cities are the people relatively safe. Sir Ballard and I have invested heavily into this orphanage, yet there are still many children that are left forgotten. We can only take in so much."
"…The orphans here?" asked Lady Maria. "Have they eaten?"
"The children had taken their supper and are asleep in their rooms," assured Cara, she stood beside Orianna. "There is not much else for them to do once night has set. It is best for them to rest and sleep it away the night until the morning light. I am sad to say that many of them know this from experience."
Unwanted children wandering the dark are quick to vanish. No one goes looking for them. Be it done by the will of men or monsters, most will ignore it. Their fellow street urchins could only quietly mourn their loss come the daytime.
"Aye," agreed Byron. "It is only with the help of nobles such as yourselves that my order is able to take in orphans as well, though we take those only who are fit enough for our training." He grimaces at the thought. "We can only take those who can fight. Even the light of the Eternal Fire cannot fill the bellies of every child lost in the world. We do what we can for those we can save. Only those in the cities have the luxury of staying awake once darkness sets in. Though, I find it strange that this place so far from the city can stand by itself without men guarding it. Even my order's outposts are not free from the touch of vile monsters."
"Which is why this place is made of stone," answered Orianna. "Sir Ballard here had most generously offered the services of a mage he personally procured to cast spells that hide this place from monsters. It has been four years since these walls were built, and not a monster had ever stepped foot here."
"And bandits? With such extravagance here, this place would surely attract the eyes of such men."
Orianna had taken a long sip of her wine before saying, "Perhaps the monster that couldn't find this place found them instead? We don't get many visitors here at all. Still, the children are well-cared for here. They see no reason to leave outside the safety of its walls. It is a dangerous world out there after all."
"Of which we would like to hear what part of it you came from, Lady Maria," said Sir Ballard. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "I must say that never in all my time have I ever seen such clothing before, and I have traveled far and wide for the longest time before settling at my current residence in Oxenfurt. There is something different… quite different about you."
Lady Maria crossed her legs and held her hands together in a manner befitting one of noble lineage.
"I could say the same to you," she said, as she stared straight at them. A heavy silence fell upon the room as the nobles at the table seemed to just sit and stare at each other from opposite ends. Byron noticed the heavy atmosphere but could only drink his cup in silence.
"You must be tired from your long journey," finally said Orianna, breaking the atmosphere with a bright smile as she placed her cup on the table. "I know I am. Cara will show you to your quarters. I hope you've had a pleasant evening with us."
And just like that supper was over. As she had said, Cara showed them the way to their quarters. She left them in front of their quarters at a dimly lit corridor.
"That was rather… sudden," commented Byron.
"Byron," called Lady Maria.
"Yes, my lady?"
"Stay in the room." Lady Maria looked at him seriously. "No matter what you may hear—No matter the cause, do not leave it unless I return here. Wait and have your sword ready. Things are not as they seem."
Byron frowned. He was momentarily confused by the request, but ascertained that danger must roam the walls if that is what her ladyship says. "Will you not allow me to help you at least?"
Lady Maria smiled at him. "You are a brave one, I make no mistake of that. However, I fear the beasts here will find you easy prey. Even I fear my confidence may waver against them. It is better for me to fight alone so that I may focus on them."
Byron sighed, then nodded. "Though I would gladly die fighting by your side, I shall agree with your decision. Though it pains me to admit, you have far more experience than I. I will have my blade ready and pray to the Eternal Fire for your safe return."
Lady Maria walked through the corridor they have just passed earlier, though the torches on the walls no longer burned. Through the darkness, she found herself at the center of the orphanage, a wide open courtyard with a fountain at the middle of it. The night sky was overcast, but it was still better than the total blackness inside.
"Out for a stroll, are we?"
From the shadow of a pillar, Sir Ballard came out to the green of the courtyard. He held his head high with his hands behind his back and a smirk on his face. He walked up to the fountain, opposite of Maria. Though he wore thick boots, his footsteps were oddly silent.
"I must say you have me intrigued," he said. "Never before have I encountered one such as you. Come, shall you not accompany me as you share more about yourself? Your tale ran short during our most pleasant supper. Orianna did you such a disservice by ending it so early. Why not leave your weapons by the fountain? They seem awfully heavy for such a lovely lady as yourself."
Instead of doing as she's told, Maria unsheathed her blades. "Such a fearsome thing, beasts that whisper sweetened words such as yours. How many have fallen to it?"
"Oh? So it was as she had suspected." Sir Ballard's smile turned fierce. "You seem to know what we are. Sadly, I can't seem to say the same about you. We have a keen nose, you understand? A heightened sense for detecting prey. It is what we are born with. It is because of this that I can hear the heartbeats and breaths of even the smallest of prey. But what I find truly magnificent is the scent—the blood the runs through their veins. The sweetest scent comes from the children sleeping inside their rooms here." He smacked his lips. "Even though I've taken my fill earlier, just talking about it has sent me craving for more."
In the next moment, as if a trick of the light, Sir Ballard's handsome face vanished and was replaced by a hideous visage.
"You, however, I cannot sense as such," he snarled. "I cannot smell your blood, nor taste your fear even after seeing me change before you. Even witchers perspire at the sight of a higher vampire."
"If it is fear you wish to taste, then you'll find none in me," said Maria. "Though if it is blood you seek, then I shall be happy to oblige. My own seeks yours." The clouds soon parted, allowing the full moon to bathe them in its light. She pointed her moonlit blade at him. "It calls to me… It sings to me… Therefore… I must spill your blood. The very essence of beasts and Hunters."
"It is your blood that I shall have!"
Sir Ballard pounced on her and their battle began…
A/N:
I haven't updated in a while because I've been having problems with putting my thoughts into words. I am not sure what I can do to fix it, but I still want to continue writing. The problem is that I just can't use right words.
I'm hoping I can just trudge on through it by continuously writing. I am assuming that action will lower the quality of the posts though. Bear with me as I get out of this slump.
