Nicolas Notes: I dunno what to say. Well, I'm proud to say that I finished this a week ahead of scheduled, buuuuuut I had to wait for my editor to be in a good mood until she can edit this chapter. So yeah, though I couldn't shake the feeling that something's wrong with this chapter...
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MEMORY CHAPTER 2: This is how it began
Year: 1505 (Based on the Gregorian calendar)
Date: October 6
4:22 Anti-meridian (Based on the Present's timetable)
England, the village of Carmine, the Outside
Time… Ever flowing similar to a great rushing river, no manmade object would be able to obstruct its wrath as it sets itself in motion. In the passage of time many things change, the lands, the waters, the Mother Earth and the people that dwell within its embrace. Change is a part of nature; however there is such a time when change is not welcomed with open arms for it traditionally brings along with it the grotesque appearance of conflicts. In time, mankind has proceeded to create their own systems of living, what with their exchanges and class discrimination. Life was supposed to be simple, yet it is mankind who insist it to be complicated…. I do not even know what I am writing anymore….
The boy with gray eyes let out a sigh before setting aside his quill along with its ink. His thin gloved right hand instinctively crept towards the jug of mead that sat upon the smooth flat surface of the hardened wood of the counter. Downing a gulp, another sigh escapes his lips as he stared at the smooth wood with a bored expression.
"More mead for you, Mister Scholar?" comes a gruff and aged voice in front of the boy.
A small smile cracking upon his lips, the boy promptly replies, "A scholar who cherishes the love for comfort is not fit to be deemed a scholar"
With his head continuing to study the polished counter, the boy did not see the man before him raise his eyebrows at his reply. The man did not even seem to be offended by the boy's rather mocking way of speech and instead released an infectious hearty laugh.
At the sound of laughter, the boy seemed to be pulled back once more into reality as he finally recalled where he was and what he was doing there. Looking around him, he realized that he was inside a noisy pub, filled with laughter, music and drinks. Men exhausted from working at the fields and exchanging products with other merchants were happily enjoying themselves in the night's embrace.
The entire establishment was lit by eight orange candles which all hung from the ceiling by an old rusted chandelier, casting a clear orange light all around the feasting area.
At the far corner was a blazing fireplace which provided the pub's customers the warmth they had longed for after braving through the harsh autumn was raining outside which meant that everyone who entered the pub was dripping wet and had to be told off by the barkeeper's wife for dirtying the carpet.
The boy lifted his head to show the barkeeper the polite smile he had on his face. Wiping a tear from his eye after laughing, the barkeeper then proceeds to tell the boy off, "Take off your hood boy and stop speaking in riddles! Now would you like more mead or not?"
"More please, and it is not a riddle what I have said, but a saying from the merchant's continent" replies to boy to which the barkeeper snorts in amusement.
"By Lao Tzu is it not?"
The revelation almost made the boy choke in his drink as he was about to gulp it down in one sitting. The boy's reaction managed to coax out another booming laughter to erupt from the barkeep as he coughed and choked on the mead he was supposed to drink. Stupid old man caught me off guard again, thought the 'boy' as he wiped off the mead of his lips.
"BUWAHAHAHA, caught ya there lad. This village gets all sorts of people from all sorts of bizarre places, so I ask you not to be surprised if anyone ever spooked ya like that. BUWAHAHAHA, you looked like some village fool, you shoulda' seen your face!" laughed the barkeeper, his large belly bouncing up and down as he massaged his ribs.
Once has finished laughing, the barkeeper proceeded to fetch the boy another mug of mead while the young man pulled back his hood, revealing a shaggy untidy blonde hair that somehow covered the boy's ears. A pair of weather beaten boots kept his feet dry and warm from the rain he had faced earlier as he made his way to the pub to seek shelter.
The straps of his dark olive green pants wrapped themselves over the shoulders of his long sleeved shirt which has somehow adopted a yellowish color, probably from overuse.
Over these, was a brand new bought brown travelling cloak in which the boy still wore despite being already indoors, the barkeeper's wife complained about it angrily but since he was a regular in the pub and has close relation with her husband as a friend, she consented and only if he did not ruin the carpet.
Soon barkeeper returned, still his usual attire of an olive green shirt under a pair of brown overalls as if he were working in a forge and not in a pub. This however did not disagree with the generous spark in his eyes and the prideful look on his face as he observes around the fruits of his hard labor.
The boy had to agree, from the information he has gathered, this man was hard worker and it was only right for him acquire these rewards of a stable business. A wild beard grew upon the man's chin making him look like one of those woodcutters near the foot of the mountain at the western roads while his hazel brown hair sat on his head similar to that of a burnished wood.
Lifting his mug as a gesture of a toast, the boy drank while the barkeep went back to polishing his wares.
"So…"began the barkeeper, "If what you say is true that you are no scholar, then if I may ask how come you are able to come up with words as if you seize them from the air itself, aye?"
"Take it as a hobby," responds the boy, while making his mug sway in his grip, "enjoyable tasks that we perform out of whim. If I were a sailor then I would say that whims are akin to that of the wind; unpredictable and random at times"
"But you are no sailor and there is no sea in this valley" answers the barkeeper.
"Indeed, I am a builder. Surely you have already known this for it is my profession that my father has passed along me, so it would mean that my whims are similar to a builder. My whims are not like the winds which are unpredictable and random; my whims are similar to all things that I build: it has purpose and is always precise," replies the boy in a philosophical tone.
"Hmph, it seems that I learn something new every day," responds the barkeep in a defeated voice.
"Ah, worry not good sir! It is not every day that you are schooled by the youth!" laughs the boy while lightly banging the counter. Youth…. One would wonder how he would react if he knew how old I really am…
"Indeed, however I suggest you refrain from shooting off that clever tongue of yours if you do not want to be tied upon a whipping post while the village elder feeds you a blazing charcoal fresh off the hearth! " says the barkeeper jokingly as he releases his booming laughter, mixing it along with the other noises in the establishment.
"I will be sure to keep that in mind, good sir" replies the boy while taking a sip from his mug. The barkeeper observes him with a gray eyebrow raised as the boy set down his mug once more to examine the parchment he had written on. On the boy's right side were four mugs of mead, all drained of their contents while the one who drank them all was still clear minded and was re-reading his work with focused eyes.
The barkeep could not help but procure a sweat drop at the amount of mead that the boy has consumed; he did not even have the appearance of a heavy drinker. In fact, he only had the look of a boy in his mid-teens and yet he has already taken in more mead than a normal drunkard would usually drink. No, he has seen this scene for a very long time now so the barkeeper shook his head dismissively and went back to polishing his mug.
The barkeeper could recall that one time that he questioned the boy's drinking habits.
"Say boy, why do insist on drinking when you never get drunk yourself like the next bloke?" asked the barkeep one September evening.
Taking a sip from his mug, the boy casually looks up and stares at the barkeeper straight in the eye while in a nonchalant tone he replied, "To blend in. Besides, the mead helps me think"
He had to shake his head once more to dispose his mind of the boy's queer answers. After that conversation he never dared question the young man's actions. His entire village did take in the weirdest of all people, but they were good people making good business. This boy was only one of them so it should be fine.
Now that he thought of it, this boy only arrived in the village two winters ago and he has already been a lot of help to most of the villagers. A good natured fellow, though he could be sometimes be a bit quiet.
The boy would usually come to the village to sell his wares, which meant that most people would guess that he was a blacksmith of some kind, however he proved that he was not only skilled in making metalwork but was also excellent in crafts having made the village statue of the mountain lion that has been the village pride ever since it stood this spring.
Even after that, still he remained silent about his name. This of course aroused suspicion about the boy's history whether he was a slave or fugitive with a large amount of gold sitting on top of his head, however the barkeeper did not believe in such tosh. This boy had contributed quite a lot already compared to that of the village leader's so it is only right to respect his wishes to remain a mystery, besides he did not seem like a bad person at all.
Sighing, the barkeeper shook his head again to ward his mind of any other troubling thoughts about the boy before him. The other men in the pub were too busy laughing and singing 'the old goat with a long fringe' to order anymore drinks, which left the barkeeper nothing to do than idle next to the boy.
The same scene…. Apparently having experienced this before, his conversation earlier with the young man already felt like a routine to him. Soon, the boy will ask him how his wife and child are doing and he would reply with his usual response, after that the boy will order five more mugs before getting up to leave for the night to his home somewhere at the plains. At least that was what the barkeeper thought… This night seemed to be a bit different than those before.
Once he had set down his mug for the third time after a sip, the boy's eyes turned to the side as he heard the sharp sound of bells ringing at the door over the loud voices of the throngs all around, declaring the arrival of a new customer. The chair beside the boy uttered a tiny screech barely audible over the noise of the pub as the newcomer took their seat at his side.
From the edge of his vision, the boy identified the stranger to be a man in his early thirties, clean shaven with a cheery face that seemed to be always smiling. The man's silver hair was tied into a pony tail at the back of his head right under a larger than necessary top hat.
What was interesting about this man was not the bronze handled cane he had and neither was the fine jade green silk coat that he wore, but it was the shoes that he had on for they were so neatly polished that they seemed to shine.
From a first glance this man seemed to stand out among the people in the pub by wearing such an exquisite outfit like that of a noble, or maybe he is a noble. Two or three strands of gray hair lay across the thin oval glasses he had, which he was now cleaning with white handkerchief that he took out of his coat pocket. Strangest thing about this man was that he was not utterly drenched compared to the last five people that had come in the last fifteen minutes.
The boy's gray eyes trailed towards an emblem that seemed like the stranger's coat of arms: A bat bearing a cross behind its back with two spears impaling what looked like the earth.
His eyes widening, the young man choked upon his drink for the second time this evening.
"Good evening barkeep, I would like to have the most affordable wine that you have," requested the stranger in a cool suave voice that sent chills up the boy's spine.
The barkeeper responded with a smile of his own before going to the back fetching the wine bottles he was going to serve, leaving the newcomer and the boy alone in the midst of the loud building.
"What are you doing here? Aren't your kind supposed to be in hiding?" says the boy, his words barely over the loud noises of the pub yet he ignored it and kept his gray eyes fixed at the edge of his vision to keep the man beside him in his sights.
"Whatever are you saying, my boy?" chuckled the man while casually turning his head to the side to look at the boy. "Clark is my name," continued the man while offering a white gloved hand, "A pleasure to make your acquaintance." The young man regarded the man's gesture with a cold stare, making the stranger draw back the hand and rub the back of his neck while chuckling nervously.
"Go away, now…." Mutters the boy in a low tone, yet he knows that the man can hear him very clearly.
"Hm?"
"I don't know why you're here but I am warning you, sir, cause as much as one scuffle in this village and I will vanquish you without mercy"
"Whatever are you saying? The drink must have addled your mind my boy! If I were you, I would—"
"Vampire….." the boy then proceeds to lift his mug for the man to see. At the other side of the glass, the boy's reflection was clear yet slightly distorted by the mug's surface and by the tiny beads of water that appeared due to the mead's coolness. The next side on the other hand was empty, as if no one was there.
The man releases a small puff from his nostrils before setting down his hands on the counter and opening his eyes. As expected, they were blood red and intimidating. A cold aura began to radiate from the stranger, washing over the boy causing his mind to tense tightly, alert of an unexpected attack.
"I suppose it is no use pretending something I am not after being found out. Lighten up boy, I have no interest in consuming you," says Clark, still using his pleasant tone and way of speech. From what the young man could see, the smile and nervous expression Clark had were genuine, years of experience told him that the stranger before him bore no hostility and was not pretending. One could never be too careful however…
"So let me start again, shall we? My name is—"
"I've heard you the first time and I don't want to hear it again. Besides, I am not interested on whatever it is that you want from me," cuts off the boy while relaxing his shoulders before taking a sip from his mug. Setting it down he then adds, "Leave, now"
The stranger produces loud clicking noises from his lips as he says, "My, my, my aren't you the rude one, have you no respect for elders? And you have not even given me the chance to recount my tale."
"I don't care and I only respect the respectable and those who deserve it. And I already know what you want seeing that I have encountered more of your kind in the past than you can imagine not only your race but others too so I advise you to not take me so lightly"
"Ohohoho, not to be taken lightly indeed. Have you ever known of your reputation in the world of the supernatural? Why I would not be foolish enough to challenge you, knowing your status in the eyes of the other races and you will not be as equally foolish by challenging me in return, eh? I think the two of us should know our place before we shoot our mouths off, shall we? Now, I think I have something that will interest you; A new project."
"Heh, so what will it be, vampire? Do you want me to make you a weapon of mass destruction that will make genocide appear harmless? Do want me to seek a dragon's hoard for you while offering me the half in return?" says the boy apparently irritated by the stranger's offer and stubbornness. Why won't he just leave? "Do you want me to create you an army a thousand fold larger than that of Alexander the Great so that you will be able to conquer Europe with as much breaking a sweat?"
Clark the vampire's eyes blinked twice in disbelief of the boy's words. At that exact moment the barkeeper returns with a large green bottle that had a yellowish parchment pasted at its front.
As the barkeeper pours Clark's drink into his glass, a mischievous smile creeps upon the man's lips, causing a slight unease on the boy's part before he says, "You speak as if you had a hand in those things that you have relayed. No, this project will be a whole lot different than your past ones."
Lifting his glass to his lips, the vampire takes a sip from his drink before setting it down again to add, "I want you to build a house,"
"Wha—?"
The moon had finally shown once the clouds have drifted away from the busy village, though it seems like the night still goes on and still remains dark at the few corners of the loud settlement. Though despite the eerie howling echoes that sounded at the alleys, the gentle autumn breeze kept the atmosphere on almost anywhere at the village comfortable and accommodating, yes even the cold backstreets behind the pub.
From the dim light of the moon and that of the main streets, the two distinct shapes of people could be easily seen within the alley. The shorter one seemed to be leaning with his back against the cold wet stone wall of the building he just exited while the other merely sat on an empty wooden crate. The second figure seemed to be a bit taller than the first one and appeared to be more relaxed with the situation.
The scuttling of the mice and the flapping of the pigeons asleep in their nests above the rooftops seemed to be the only things that pierced the two men's silence aside from the faint sound of the crowd at the distance.
"So what do you think of it? Of my offer? It seems reasonable, doesn't it?" says Clark while nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders with a bright smile on his face, "An easy job with a wage that's more than fair, let's say a hundred thousand gold pieces? You don't have to worry about paying for the materials that you'll need for I will surely take care of it to lighten your burden."
Still scowling, the boy releases a small puff from his nose as if still uncertain of the vampire's strange request.
"A house?" he repeated incredulously for the fifth time, "Are you certain that you haven't confused it with a fortress or castle? Just a simple house, no Wyvern guarding the front gate, no dramatic appearance or anything that could considered….. Otherworldly?"
"Yes, a normal house big enough for my family to live in and no I don't need something as grand as those things," explained the vampire with a light chuckle, briefly exposing his fangs, "And also if I may request you to keep a simple and one track mind while near me. I tend to get bored easily with excessive formalities and other boring whatnot. Ahahahaha!"
If it weren't for his lack of reflection and red eyes, I'd say he's just another normal human. He sure is a strange one, thinks the boy as he watches the vampire give in to his laughter, has he no pride for his race? The vampires that I've encountered so far were more different, serious and wicked, whereas this person…. No, I have to stay alert. I can see that this is no normal vampire before me; looks can be deceiving after all. I need to stay vigilant and do what he asks me to get this done quick…
"Very well…." Answers the boy, reluctance evident in his tone as he rubs the back of his neck, "So for what reason would you hire me anyway? You do know that all sorts of strange people come and go this valley, meaning that if any anomalies concerning your activities here were to rise, the church will know about it faster than you can say 'a barrel full of bad apples'. Are you really sure that you will have your home near such a dangerous place? Why not move unto somewhere your family is more comfortable?"
Clark was silent for a moment as if he had not considered the thought before, however it seemed like he already did for with a smirk on his features he says, "Well, this area has been tranquil for the past century hasn't it? Yes there a few hazardous risks here and there but it is the only place that I know of in which I know where my daughters could be safe."
Looking up from the ground he stares the boy straight in the eye, the crimson orbs meeting the gray ones, he then adds, "You have just arrived two winters ago, aye? Well you see here boy I have been citing this land for over a century and so far it seemed like an ideal place for my family to dwell in. I know far more about this land than you do and you will have to be careful lest you want me to alert my contacts."
"Oh," replies the boy coolly as if to mock the vampire before him, "Well pardon me good sir for my impudent manners. But I was merely expressing my concern for your….. Unlife? Rest assured that your request will be done. Even half heartedly…."
"Good! Now it's best not to meddle with a vampire's business lest you are interested in suicide!" laughed Clark in a rather unruly manner. He seems to be too loud for a vampire. The young man wondered of his origins and…. Did this man just mention daughters? From what rumors say, vampires are not able to reproduce through birth due to being….. A walking corpse, but how?
The young man shook his head in confusion. Clark was correct, it is better not to meddle with vampire's business even though he was the very center of it.
"Well, before I get to work may I ask for a small favor on my part?" asks the boy, uncertain whether the vampire will consent of his idea.
"Very well, if I will be able to receive your full cooperation then why not? Let us hear it," comes the vampire's answer, leaning close even though it was not necessary with his heightened senses.
"I'll have to ask you to find other means of sustaining your diet without laying a single hair upon the humans that reside here, do I make myself clear?"
A mischievous smile creeps across Clark's features as he replies, "That will not be a problem. I have arranged everything beforehand. I am a light eater so there is no need to worry about my victim's death and— ah, ah , ah I have not finished yet so please save that glare for later. As I have said that most of my victims survive long after I have fed upon them but do not think even twice that I will harm the people of this quiet village even if it means feeding my family. No, I have an acquaintance that provides me with our food supply and as much it is looked down upon by others of my kin, I think myself and my family as more civilized than actual hunters of the night. Barbaric fiends most of them…. This acquaintance of mine is just like you, one who works for the supernatural in exchange for gold. One who will never give out secrets, very much like you so there is no need to worry."
A vampire who dislikes the presence of other vampires? Or maybe he just doesn't want to be placed in the same group as the others, echoes the boy's thoughts, this man is strange alright. To speak so openly about his own kind just like that and he says he's a light eater? Victims survive even after feeding upon them… Doesn't that heighten the risk of the human becoming a thrall or vampire? If he's able to aid the human into maintaining their mortality long after feeding upon them, then he must be quite skilled. And to be that skilled he has to be quite old and wise. This is not something normal…
Sighing, the boy finally gives in and says, "Very well. I shall hold you to your word. The building materials and the site that you want it to stand, give me the list tomorrow night. I will meet you once more tomorrow night, at the outskirts of the village. The little conversation at the bar may have attracted unwanted attention, and I really would appreciate it to have my head still connected to my neck"
"Tomorrow night already? Well, I see that you are eager to get started already, or do you just want to finish this so that you can leave in peace, hm?" says the vampire with an annoying smile plastered on his face. His eyes twinkling behind his glasses as he awaited the boy's answer.
To his disappointment the young man began to walk away.
D-did I offend him? Mirrors the vampire's thoughts as he just remembered what he was supposed to ask a few minutes before.
"Wait!" calls Clark, his hand hovering before him in a gesture for the young man to stop.
His footsteps coming to a halt, the gray eyed youth turns to face the vampire once more and in an irritated tone he asks, "What do you want?"
"You still have not given me your name. It is vital for me to at least know the name of the person I have just hired. Besides I have given you mine so it is only natural for you to give me yours."
The boy considers this for a moment before finally making his choice.
"Corvice, Corvice Samuel Mason. It is better for people to know nothing of my name; after all, names have power. It can even make an all immortal god fall to its knees"
"Corvice…. Derived from Corvus which means 'crow' in Latin. So should I be referring to you as 'Crow' now?"
"You're mistaken. Back in my hometown, they refer to me as the 'child born under the raven sky' so in turn my mother named me that way. The strangest thing is that my village never saw me as a bringer of bad luck considering the superstitions of others all over the world regarding the crow. However you are correct, Corvus does indeed mean crow, but you may never know if this is one bird that will truly act his nature"
Seemingly satisfied with the boy's answer, the vampire widens his smile and waves his left hand as a gesture of good bye, "I see, farewell then, friend. And may you reach your coven safely."
Without as much paying the vampire a second glance, the boy sets off into the night in his journey home.
Year: 1505
Date: October 28
3:56 Anti-meridian
England, Construction Site twenty miles from the Village, The Outside
A week after the human and vampire's agreement had passed, Corvice immediately set to work and the manufacturing of the 'house' had been going on smoothly ever since. The vampire came to check upon the boy's progress and was quickly impressed on how Corvice managed to gather all of the materials he needed for the construction of the building. As time went on, plans seemed to have changed.
One night as Clark came to check upon the boy's work, Corvice found him sporting several rips upon his person while his left boot was missing as he displayed a healing cut on his cheek. Corvice merely raised an eyebrow as Clark explained with a quick "wife" before collapsing on the ground.
It seemed like Madame Scarlet (yes that is Clark's current surname) was the one who requested her husband to find a person capable of meeting her demands in regard of her house. It also seemed that she wished that the 'house' was to be larger than what her husband previously envisioned.
"A mansion?" asks Corvice as his eyes scanned every word written upon the parchment he within his hands with mild surprise, "Well, this seems to be more of what I have expected for it is completely in contrast with your simple description."
Corvice held up a badly drawn box with a triangular roof upon a paper for Clark to see.
"I'm afraid that I couldn't draw art even to save my own life, so it seems that you will have to excuse its bad quality," explains Clark with a half-hearted shrug before reaching out with a hand and taking the drawing away from Corvice's hand. "Well from afar you could almost see the superior workmanship, if I do say so myself. You do know what they say, lad, one must step away to appreciate a work of art!"
Well, it's good to see his ego still in place for a vampire, thought the boy as he releases a tired sigh. He then examined the list Madame Scarlet had delivered to him of what he was supposed to do. Based from what the note had said, Clark's wife requested the same style and structure as those mansions she had seen as she was passing through Paris only that it would have to be made through Corvice's own design.
Roughly a third of the size of the great Roman Coliseum. This woman was either very demanding or just plain mad, but at least she was giving the boy specific instructions and the general detail of what he was supposed to construct unlike her husband…
Hmm, even at that size it's too big. I could make it, yes, but the question then would be how would I hide it? Maybe the size of a normal mansion would be fine and all I have to do is rework the space within the mansion itself. Expanding the space within without increasing the mansion's bulk seems like a work for magic… Corvice the glances to his side where his supplies were located. The boy was then deep in thought before he finally makes his choice, startling the elder vampire who was resting on the grass.
"That's it!" exclaims Corvice while keeping a serious face, "All I have to do is plan out a design that will meet both of your expectations thus creating something that is both grand and simple. I need to call upon those spirits again to lend me a hand in this one. But in order to call them, I'll have to pay them their wages… For that I need…."
Turning to his right side, Corvice stares down at the vampire below him, "I need gold, lots of them."
"Eh?" came Clark's confused reply.
"I'll explain once you do so. Think of it as if I'll be retrieving more supplies for this construction. Your wife is a very demanding woman from the looks of things"
"O-o-okay, though you do not know half of the story about my wife."
"And I have no wishes to know more than I already do," replies Corvice, eyeing the spots where Clark received many injuries as he made his way to the site.
With a silent agreement, the vampire had left for his home as he sensed dawn fast approaching. It seemed like that it was going to be another dull night.
1 week after that night.
7:44 Post- meridian
It was sunset and the night was slowly swallowing every bit of the sun's rays in the cool November sky. Corvice had just finished re-heating the mortar he had just processed and was now taking a short rest as he sat upon a closed wooden crate. Behind him, the sounds of hammers and wheels turning were heard. Gulping a drink of water from his water skin, Corvice then noticed the faint sounds of hooves and wooden wheels coming towards the construction's location. Feeling a cool breeze blow overhead, he closed his eyes and waited for the visitors to arrive.
When the boy had opened them once more, he was barely surprised to see Clark sitting at the driver's seat of a black coach wearing his silly top hat at the roof of his head. The vampire's smile did not seem to disappear from the moment the boy had met him, though it seemed like Corvice was already used to this. The young man could not help but wonder of the person sitting within the coach.
Has Clark finally decided to introduce his wife to the boy? Whoever it was, Corvice did not care. Clark's usual presence was irritating enough and it would not do him good by entertaining the presence of another , Corvice turned to look towards somewhere to his left in an attempt to ignore the approach of the elder vampire towards him.
"Well, are you ready to meet her?" asks Clark assumingly with a bright smile upon his face.
At that, Corvice could not help but blink twice before asking in return, "Meet who?"
"How rude, did I not tell you that I was about to introduce you to my eldest tonight?" says Clark, chastising the boy for his poor memory, "For shame my friend! You do not realize that you are about to see a living wonder of the world!"
Corvice slowly raised his eyebrows, threatening them to disappear above his fringe as he resisted answering back; Living wonder? How could she be living when she's an undead vampire? He was glad that he had managed to stop himself before he suddenly found himself dead on the ground. Clark was one thing when he was insulting his own kind, but Corvice thought that he would be something different if the boy ever dared speak that way towards his own flesh and blood.
Deciding to play along for the deceivingly naïve elder's sake, he then asks, "Living what?"
Smirking, Clark prepared to impress the young man with his beloved jewel's beauty by calling her out, "Oh Remilia, time to come out now~!"
Not a moment too soon, the carriage door slowly swung open and the first thing Corvice saw was a pink shoe step out from within the coach before a young girl emerged from behind the coach door wearing face mixed with confusion and bright curiosity. Her father then gestures her to go to him who caused the little girl to jump and skitter towards the elder vampire, hiding behind his back. The girl then tentatively peeked from behind Clark, staring at Corvice with her cherry red eyes.
In return to this action, Corvice tilted his head slightly to the left inquiringly for he has never seen a child with a light shade of blue as the color of her short wavy hair.
"Now, now Remilia, there's no need to be frightened, this man is my friend and rest assured that he will not harm you. Corvice is a good human, correct me if I'm wrong, Corvice," says Clark while giving him a quick wink, however the boy's response to this was to cross his arms in front of his chest and sigh disappointedly as he shakes his head. He then ceases shaking his head the moment he had noticed this girl, 'Remilia' as Clark had called her, pluck up the courage to reveal herself and net her knees as a gesture of a curtsy.
The young man then acknowledges this with a nod of his head before turning towards his employer and asks, "Can we talk over there?" The boy then points towards behind the carriage where he thought it would be the most private to hold a conversation.
Starting off with on a brisk walk, Corvice quickly made his way behind the coach with Clark following him from behind.
As they reached their destination, Corvice then proceeded to turn towards Clark's direction and ask with a serious expression, "I can put up and tolerate your presence as I work, but bringing your own child here is much worse! What does your wife think of me, some mind of nanny that has to look after her husband and eldest child while she…she…..she does whatever she does?! Do you not know of the risks of her being here? What if there was to happen and—"
"Friend, I would have to ask you to calm yourself," says Clark, cutting off Corvice in the middle of his sentence. The boy had no choice but to clamp his jaw shut and listen to the vampire's explanation.
"Good, now that I have your attention, allow me to explain. Now she," Clark the jabs a thumb behind him, directing it towards his daughter, "Needs more fresh air. It has been twenty years since she has last seen and ventured outside of our house and I only found it right that she deserved to see the moon once again. Due to her shy nature, the girl barely leaves the house if I do not even go out of my way of bringing her along. Besides that, Madame Scarlet insisted that I take her. You do know how my wife is, hm?"
"yes, yes, but—"
"No need to worry my friend. If you are troubled that if anything would happen to her, let's say if she got caught by the church, and that if you were proven to have been involved with a vampire, I will make sure that you will have not be caught. She is with me, and I am her father. I will keep her safe"
"KYAAA~! FATHER!"
"You just had to say something," deadpans Corvice before the two them went around either side of the carriage as quickly as they could. Balling his right hand into a fist, Corvice proceeded to gather electricity upon his hand while expecting the three of them to be surrounded. A few moments passed and he let his entire body relax as he found the little vampire sitting on the grass as she poked the soft surface of the formless green spirit that by some miracle held on a wooden mallet without the aid of hands.
Clark on the other hand was on the verge of a heart attack as he realized what had happened. Corvice was ready to gamble his entire wage for this project that Clark was thinking on how to explain things to his wife if anything were to happen to his daughter.
Setting his hands to his side, Corvice then approaches the little vampire and kneels beside her as she and the spirit she was interacting with were poking each other playfully.
"Alright that's enough fun poking the vampire. Get back to work already," scolded Corvice as he addressed the greenish transparent spirit which seemed to shake its entire body twice before rushing off somewhere.
Remilia only blinked twice before turning her head towards Corvice and ask, "What was that?"
"That? A spirit, worker spirits from nature. I call them Wisps," replies Corvice in a nonchalant manner.
"Ah, but I thought that only sorcerers or sorceresses were the only ones who controlled and enslaved spirits to do their bidding?" questions Clark as he steps in front of his daughter and begins to dust off the dirt upon her pink dress as he knelt down.
"Those people enslave spirits and use magic to bind them. I, however, am an amateur when it comes to the arcane arts so magic is not an option for me," gazing upon the construction site before him, "I befriend spirits, not enslave them. I specifically choose the spirits that have love for building, for creating so that they are not doing something against their will and nature. No, I let them run free; give them instructions and new ways of creating something worthwhile. I give them the chance to relive what they were when they were still alive and well. I'm kind to them and so they are kind to me."
"Ah, so that explains the rumors of your completing a full scale project in the matter of days," says Clark who seemed impressed by the amount of spirits the boy has 'befriended'.
Before them lay the construction site in which first appeared to empty and devoid of any signs of life only to surprise onlooker by tools flying at random times in the air, hammering and sawing as they did their respected tasks. There appears to be no one working at a first glance, however if one had a sharp eye or just waited for a few seconds, they will be able to see numerous greenish blobs float in the air rushing about the place.
Three blobs were erecting what seemed like wooden pillar which perhaps will serve as the mansion's temporary foundation while four more blobs whizzed past the three people with large heavy blocks on top of them. Five blobs on the east corner were tending to the flames of the forges where three more blobs seemed to wait impatiently for their turn.
Over at the supply area, one big red spirit was overseeing the progress of six lesser green spirits as they sawed, hammered, disassemble; put back together numerous pieces of materials. The red one seemed to be angry with the drones' sluggish movements and urged them to go faster by making it glow. The workers were alarmed enough to go as fast as their incorporeal hands can go.
When Corvice turned to see Clark and Remilia's faces, he saw that the former one was sporting a shocked expression with his jaw hanging loosely from his mouth while the latter's eyes seemed to shine at the prospect of catching one of the cool and soft creatures.
"There's so many…" says Clark in a weak voice, a dark shadow covering his eyes in disbelief.
"They're so adorable!" squealed Remilia in delight in contrast with her father's reaction.
"Wait, what?!" roars Clark while holding his hands up defensively. Remilia turns to face her father while keeping both of her hands behind her back.
"Dearest father, may I ask your permission for me keeping at least one spirit for myself?" asks Remilia ignoring her father's incredulous look. From what Corvice was seeing, he noticed that Clark was not the type of father that could easily say 'no' to his child. If this were the case, Corvice will be losing a worker, and he knew that he was going to lose more than one knowing that the child was…. a bit pampered. His eyes trailing to the elder vampire who was rubbing the back of his neck, Corvice chose the time to intervene.
"Excuse me to interrupt this, however I cannot allow you—"
"YOU CAN TAKE THEM ALL! ANYTHING FOR YOU MY DEAR~!"
Dammit I was too slow… echoes Corvice's own voice within his mind. The boy was about to scold the elder vampire, but was stopped by Clark smiling as he gestured Corvice to stop. This action miraculously worked and the boy's head unconsciously faced the direction in which the younger vampire flew off to. There, he found the tiny vampire grab a spirit from its task and proceeded to hug it tightly as she tumbled around the air, giggling like any human girl would whenever receiving a gift.
Releasing a sigh, Corvice decided to let this one pass. It seems like letting her have one, but not a dozen wouldn't hurt. He would have to increase the spirit's benefits in the future in compensation for its noble sacrifice.
"Ahh, the innocence of the youth…" sighs Clark as if he were daydreaming.
"Wisps aren't toys, please keep that in mind" replies Corvice in a cool tone as he stepped away to return to his work in which the vampire only smirked at. As the boy headed to check the forges once more, he was were that the elder vampire was following him from behind, looking around the construction site with mild interest. To kill time and prevent Clark from doing anything stupid while in the middle of the site, Corvice decided to explain to him the basic principles of mixing mortar and heating steel.
Clark was a good listener despite his airy nature and annoying tendency to show a suspicious smile once in awhile. Corvice began to wonder what was running through that vampire's head. Was the man even listening? Ah, that may be a story for another time…
"Why did you bring her here?" asks Corvice without warning. The young man comes to a halt a few meters from the site and into the outskirts of a forest. Turning around, he finds the elder vampire leaning on a tree with a thoughtful expression as if he were choosing his words.
Blinking, the vampire's eyes trail towards the boy as he says in all too innocent tone, "What do you mean by that?"
"I know that you're planning something in that thick skull of yours and don't say that 'we've already talked about this' because I know that you have other motives. Care to share them?"
"So what is it? I cannot even bring my own child to her future mansion? Oh dear that would be like I'm hiding something from my own daughter, the truth of what she'll inherit. And I never keep anything from anyone, especially not to my own child,"
Corvice let out a snort, clearly not satisfied with the vampire's words.
Sighing in defeat the vampire says, "Very well. From what I can tell, you're worst than my wife…"
"Out with it," barks Corvice, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"Haven't you guessed it yet? I hinted it awhile earlier," begins Clark, shooting Corvice an assuming glance, "you did catch it, I believe?"
Shaking his head in confusion, Corvice says, "No, I have no clue of what you are speaking of."
"The truth. Do you see it? Can you feel it in your mind? The truth on what lies deep in your very soul?"
"You are not making the slightest sense…"
"I see it in you. There lies in you a pathetic wounded creature, hiding behind a cloak that conceals what you really are and feel"
Corvice stiffened at that and gazed at the stoic vampire with wide eyes.
"Oh ho ho, so I am correct. Let's see, it's been two centuries since you chose to hide that truth, however the wound is still there. Interesting…" says Clark with his own red eyes staring back against the gray ones of the 'human' boy.
Corvice's eyes slowly rested unto his gloved right hand. Taking the leather glove off, pure white electricity began to course through his palms before disappearing again. A memory flashed of him lying on the sand filled ground as a dust storm blew all around him. The hymn of the wind that was filled sadness mixed with the wicked laughter of two women reached his ears. He has not forgotten of the ones that made him what he was now, and he will make sure that they will not forget him either.
"You have the power to see the truth within people," states the boy as he fought to keep his composure. What has happened…. All he want is to keep it hidden even for just a little longer. He cannot afford himself to be troubled by it for now. With these thoughts he then continues, "Coaxing out their darkest secrets just by looking at them and begin reading them. Your power revolves around any kind of truth, may be it the truth in words, actions and being, you can easily identify it."
A sly smile begins to make its way across the vampire's features as he says, "Well, that saves me time explaining it to you. Yes, I see the truth however I cannot manipulate it or bend it to my will."
"And from those truths you then deduce what might have happened for your object of interest to hide it," says Corvice, narrowing his eyes.
"Not only would I be able to deduce what may have happened but I may also do something in order for that truth to surface. To make my, object of interest as you say it, realize it and accept it," replies Clark with a satisfied grin now that the boy has caught on.
"So what was the reason for it? For the girl?" asks Corvice finally growing impatient.
"On whim, I believed that she would somehow help you move on. I don't know I think strangely at times…." Replies Clark in a rather strange way as he gazes far off into the distance. A loud smack indicated that the boy had finally unleashed his contained irritation for the past week in the form of a fist to the vampire's jaw.
Without further ado, the boy attempted to storm back to the construction site when Clark spoke again, stopping him on his tracks.
"I expected you to hit me, however I have never expected you to hit me that hard," complains the elder vampire, fixing his glasses which somehow survived the boy's assault as he tried to regain feeling of his jaw. He was actually a few seconds away from biting his own tongue. "There's actually one more thing I would like to know, Mr. Mason"
"What do you want? I'm very busy!" growls the boy.
Sitting cross-legged, the vampire then answers with a question while bearing a cunning expression, "Your women preferences. I would like to know them."
"What?!"
"I would like you to give it some thought for now. Remilia will gain herself a possible suitor right here right now and I will be able to raise her into a woman of your liking."
Turning around with a shocked look on his face, Corvice began sputtering on his words, "wha-! How-!? What?! No, wait—! You… you indecent fool! What kind of father would do such a thing to his own daughter! How could even think of such a thing?! I'm just a builder for hire and— Dammit all, you're the worst! You're impossible, hopeless!"
The vampire watched as the boy turned his back on him and proceeded to head back into the site.
Seeing all of this happen the vampire then mutters in an inaudible whisper, "So he's interested in the silent types, hm?"
It was four hours to dawn when the coach left with both vampires saying their goodbyes. Corvice was left all alone at the site once he gave the Wisps his permission for them to leave. Most of them were glowing more brightly though slightly shaken by Remilia's playful attitude. Corvice knew they had both a tired and rough time so he better make them rest early for them to be more efficient the next time he needed them.
Rubbing the back of his head as he gazed at the now deserted location he was in, he started to feel a tiny twinge of regret for making the Wisps go home earlier than scheduled. Releasing a heavy sigh, the boy then strengthens his resolve of working alone.
He then grabbed a shovel that was lying around and started to dig a hole on the ground for a pillar to stand on. With every time he dug on the ground, he was then reminded of what the vampire had told him. How could that girl do anything about him? How could she help him take his mind off those people that made him into what he was? It's impossible, really.
An odd sound forced the boy's task into a grinding halt as a breeze blew by. The wind was not strong enough to make an entire sack of sand to fall flat on the floor. Straining his ears and his limited vision, he tried to make out what made that noise. He could feel a faint presence in his midst. It was somewhere around the site, though the only problem was he had no clue on where it is now.
"Who's there?" he calls, receiving no response. Gripping his shovel and placing it at his side, he then slowly walks through the construction site, alert of any sudden movements that his vision caught.
Looking up at the starry sky, Corvice then realizes how late it was and how peaceful the night seemed. The day animals were probably resting comfortably in their dens now. The thought made the boy feel drowsy all of a sudden.
He was about to dismiss the noise earlier and call it a day when all of a sudden, a sandbag hit him from above. Groaning in pain, the boy proceeded to shove the sandbag from his stomach only to be surprised to hear it yelp. Sandbags do not yelp, they do not even have the voice to do so, unless…
Rubbing his aching ribcage, Corvice sat up and through his eyes which were watering in pain he saw a little girl clad in red with two fluttering wings sprouting from her back.
Nicolas Notes: Again, I do not own Touhou or any other touhou related materials.
Well, Felicita doesn't seem to want to make an editor's notes this time since she's exhausted like me. maaaan, were those exams nightmares. They completely slaughtered us all!
Well, that's all. Special thanks to the guys at the review sect for keeping my decreasing morale up!