Chapter 7 : Saint.

He didn't know how long he laid curled up by the abandoned fountain, sniveling and shivering like a bedraggled rat. The verdant forest around him was virtually lifeless – only gnarled yew trees intertwining their skeletal fingers around the branches of their kin were scattered around him. It was cold and dead.

Just like seven years ago, Kurda realized sadly. No better when the plague hit.

A sudden flash of a kindred woman with golden locks and a cheery smile made his eyes swim with unshed tears.

Mother…

He hissed at the pain that sliced through his heart – the agony that coursed through his veins. His brother was missing. His mother was dead. His mentor deserted him. He was alone.

Alone…All alone…

He choked and coughed, the salty pearls finally running down his cheeks. He didn't even notice the faint rustle in the thicket ahead, neither did he pay attention to the low growl that echoed right in front of him.

Mother…Vaclav…

Why did they leave me? He wondered balefully, shaking with numbness. Wasn't I good enough? Wasn't I…?

The growl increased by an octave and Kurda flinched. He lifted his head by a fraction, only to stare into hungry amber eyes. He winced at the large teeth bared at him – at the ferocious wrinkled muzzle that was drawn back in a guttural snarl.

But he didn't do anything. Why should he fight when no one was left? Why live when death was staring at him in the eye, taunting him in the form of a beast?

No, the vampire blood in him counteracted, boiling with wrath at his bland submission. You are a vampire – a true creature of the shadows. You are not a coward. Fight back. Fight to reclaim your life.

Too late, he argue miserably as the panther sidled into a crouch, its hackles raised as it prepared for a savage leap. No use fighting against a beast that needs to fill its belly.

No! Fight back! Get up and fi-

The panther leapt and Kurda squeezed his eyes shut, awaiting for the razor sharp claws to sink into the delicate skin of his throat. He was startled however, by the loud yowl that suddenly pierced the night, followed by the thunderous clang of metal slicing through bone. Wondering who had saved him from the jaws of certain death, he snapped his eyes awake, only to watch in awe as a man – or rather creature of some sort – fend of the larger animal, hacking mercilessly at its forelegs.

With one final mewl of terror, the panther limped towards the forest, its pathetic keens of pain swallowed by the pressing darkness. The man before him drew in ragged breaths, before turning to glance at the fetal-crouched vampire, a short scythe held in his hand.

Through dazed eyes that mirrored shock from what he had just witnessed, Kurda couldn't help but notice the lavender and burgundy markings. "You're a vampaneze!"

The vampaneze smiled gently at him, and for a long while, Kurda Smahlt couldn't help but grin back happily.

-

His name was Marlon – Marlon Degussa. He was a great warrior among his kin, his hands capable of wielding any weapon he touched for the first time with perfect expertise. He was three hundred and twenty nine years old – a loner by tradition who used to have an apprentice, but the latter part ways with his master two years ago on account of having his own assistant someday.

This much information Kurda managed to gather from the odd stranger before him as they waited for the fish in front of them too cook.

"So how long have you been on your own, boy?" the vampaneze rasped, prodding the tiny spit in front of them with a stick.

Kurda's spirits dipped a little. "Not very long," he said quietly.

The purple skinned man chuckled throatily, before turning around and rummaging through the tiny leather satchel that laid by his feet. He pulled out a small blue box and tossed it at the younger vampire.

"That oughta put a smile on your face, aye?"

He winked and Kurda stared at the tiny parcel in confusion. Carefully placing the tip of his finger under the lid, he popped it open, only to blink in even more puzzlement at the curved shape object at the bottom.

"Leopard fang," Marlon answered, poking the fish once more. "Killed the cat back in the Amazon when I was a wee urchin by vampaneze years. My master told me leopard blood tasted the best, so I thought I'd have some fun trying to test the old codger's words." He scrunched his face up, as if reminiscing some horrible tragedy. "Damn beast was harder to take down than I'd expected. Nearly gouged my eyes out with its blasted claws – not at all a coward of a cat like the one that tried to eat you."

Kurda didn't say anything. He handed the box with the fang back to the vampaneze, but to his surprise, the man declined.

"Gah, keep it. I can kill cats anytime on my own. Might get lucky and take down a lion this time."

Kurda gaped at him openly, his cheeks flaring.

"Wh-What…?" he spluttered in disbelief.

Marlon sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "You're a good assistant, kid. That much I can sense in you, even if you're from the opposite end."

The blonde half-vampire shook his head. "But nobody wants me. Even my master left me for dead in the forest…"

"Then he's a right bloody fool!" Marlon thundered, his blue flecked eyes losing all its warmth. Kurda shied away at the sudden anger his tone; the vampaneze sighed heartily as he watched the half-vampire's reaction.

"My apologies, boy. I didn't mean to frighten you."

"It's alright," Kurda mumbled, staring at the bright ambers that licked the underbelly of the spit.

Marlon shook his head. "No, it isn't. It irks me to see how one could abandon one's assistant so carelessly and unmercifully. One should not teach, lest he be prepared to handle an untrained student." He smiled kindly at Kurda. "You're not as half-bad as you seem, boy. Granted, you did not spar well, but every wave has its ups and downs."

Kurda's mouth flopped open and close like a goldfish. "You were spying on us?"

"Nay, I was merely observing."

"Sure you were," the younger vampire teased, raising his left brow.

Marlon laughed and slapped his thigh. "I knew saving you wasn't a bad idea at all." He poked the fish one last time, before shooting a grin at Kurda. "Up for some fish, my boy?"

Kurda smiled in return. "Sure."

Marlon doused the simmering flames with some water from his canteen and removed their meal from the spit gently, pausing once in his task to glance back at Kurda.

"Oh, Kurda?"

The half-vampire looked up from the leopard fang he had began to trace with his finger – his first gift. Oddly enough, he felt quite giddy and ecstatic with it.

"You may call me master if you wish."

And Kurda Smahlt had never heard happier words in his life.

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