Chapter Three: Soothsayer

"There is pain in the fire, but beauty in the ashes."

*I just realized that technically the events of the series take place in 1930… But we're just going to roll with 1932 for now cause I like that better*

1932; Sakhalin, Russia

Mikhail felt his stomach drop at her words. Save him? Yevgraf was gone. Why would they have to save Yuliy?

"Save him? Why?" Idris leaned back in her chair before standing, collecting the empty bowls and bringing them to the sink, where she began washing the dishes out in quick, harsh movements. He noticed her nails were long and sharp and painted an inky black, a stark contrast to her mint green dress and the rose crown she had worn earlier.

"Because he possesses the Arc of Sirius. That can make a man a god or a demon. It could kill a man as easily as someone breathes. You saw what it did to Yevgraf. I only heard about it. There are ways to contain it, of course, but it all depends on if we can get to your brother in time. He's no doubt has some sort of plan in mind to use it. So I must ask, are you going to save him? If not, that's perfectly fine; I'm sure I have a friend somewhere who is willing to do the job for you."

Immediately Mikhail was standing from his spot and heading towards the front door. He had to save his little brother. If that thing was killing him, he had to get it away from him and destroy it. He couldn't lose the only family he had left. A hand laid itself on his shoulder, and he whipped around, ready to shrug off Idris's hand. She was looking at him with a curious sort of expression, eyebrows raised and mouth pursed in almost a pout.

"When I said we had to save your brother, I didn't mean just you. I did say 'we' for a reason." She said and retook her seat, gesturing for Mikhail to do the same. He did so with a slump,

"Why are you helping me? You have no reason to." He asked, after all, why would she? He was just someone she pulled from the ocean and saved. He wasn't even sure why she did that. Idris tilted her head as she mulled over what she was going to say,

"I suppose it's because you are intriguing to me. It's not often you meet a Sirius-turned-vampire. And I would rather like to see where you go with all of this. Life was getting dreadfully boring until you came around."

…

It was several days before Idris gave Mikhail a clean bill of health from his near-fatal injuries. Unfortunately, even with an advanced healing factor such as his, his sustained injuries still took a while to heal completely. Nevertheless, Idris had told him several times that he was lucky to have survived.

The day they agreed to set off arrived quickly. Mikhail had awoken at dawn and had spent the morning hours outside in the chilly Sakhalin air. Hunger didn't bother him, nor did he even feel the need to eat anyway. So instead, he simply sat on the porch bench and watched the waves roll up the beach. It was almost peaceful if the dread of Yuliy potentially dying didn't weigh heavily over his shoulders.

"Ready to leave? The car will be here soon to take us to the ferry station." Came Idris's voice, and he turned to see her leaning in the doorway. She wore a high-waisted navy skirt that fell to her calves with a floral blouse tucked into it. She held a matching navy blazer over her arm with a purse in the other, a pair of Oxford heels hanging from her fingertips. She had styled her hair in tight curls pinned at the nape of her neck, and a string of pearls around her neck topped it all off.

He himself wore a simple white button-down and a pair of dark slacks, a matching blazer, and a pair of brown dress shoes waiting inside for him. How Idris had his exact size of clothes and shoes was a mystery to him, but he figured he wouldn't spend too much time on it; she had told him she had an extensive collection of just about anything, so she was bound to have something that fit him.

New scars decorated his side from his fight with Yevgraf, puckered and pink and angry red. The disease that had ravaged his vampiric body no longer claimed him. When he had asked Idris about it, she had simply winked and held a finger to her lips, claiming that a magician never revealed her secrets.

…

The car ride was long, but the ferry to the train was even longer. Mikhail couldn't help but remember the last train he had been on; it had blown up if he remembered correctly. Idris sat across from him in her seat and watched the scenery pass by.

"Where are we headed?" He asked, and she glanced over at him, eyes hidden behind her black cat-eye sunglasses.

"To a friend of mine, he can help locate your brother and give me some insight on where the device to contain the Arc of Sirius is. We'll have to go to Coeluysium to get there." At the word "Coeluysium," her lips curled up in a smile, and she peeked at him over her glasses,

"You'll be the first non-draconian to be there in a very long time." He rolled up his sleeves and sat forward, leaning his elbows on his knees.

"Who is your friend? And what's Coeluysium like?" Idris let out a breath at his questions, leaning back in her seat across from him.

"It's hard to describe Opal. He's…. He's an odd character. You'll see it when you meet him. He's an air dragon, probably one of the only sane ones you'll meet. As for Coeluysium… Well, it's magnificent, absolutely gorgeous. There aren't enough words to describe how breathtaking that place can be. I haven't been there myself in a long time, but I still remember it as clear as day. You'll love it." She grinned then; he felt a shiver go down his spine at the sight of her sharpened teeth. He'd never get used to that, her unnaturally sharp teeth sitting on such a pretty face.

It took several hours before they finally reached land and took a short car ride to the train station, where they boarded a train towards Moscow.

…

"Why don't you tell me about yourself?" Idris asked one day out of the blue. They were a day into their trip towards Moscow, and she watched him over her glasses, cheek leaning on the palm of her hand. Mikhail sat back in his seat, crossing one leg over the other and crossing his arms over his chest. Part of him wanted to decline, keep his past to himself, but part of him knew he owed Idris. She had saved his life, after all, he owed her at least a little information on himself.

"I grew up in a town called Dogville. It was just me, my mom, and Yuliy, my little brother." He said and couldn't help but smile as he remembered Yuliy growing up, running around and getting under foot, even shooting his gun for the first time. He went on to describe his childhood, his friends, hunting with Yuliy. It was nice, talking about the small things and where he grew up in a positive light. It had been so long, over a decade since he had been able to.

"What about you?" He asked, and she blinked several times. It was late into the night now; all the passengers were fast asleep.

"Me?"

"Yeah, what about you? What was your childhood like? I've been talking for hours now; tell me about yourself." He said, and Idris gained a sort of sad look on her face.

"I'm afraid I don't remember much of it. Not my early years, at least. I was quite the troublemaker when I got into my teen years… But when you've lived as long as I have- you don't remember much of the beginning. I'm sorry." She said the last part quietly and then shook her head as if ridding herself of bad memories.

…

1932; Irkutsk, Russia

They disembarked briefly in Irkutsk, and for once, Mikhail was grateful for the thick trench coat around his shoulders. A blizzard raged, and they could barely see three feet in front of their faces.

Idris sported her own woolen coat with a fur muff to cover her hands. They trudged through the snow, Mikhail's socks slowly getting soaked through his dress shoes, but Idris seemed intent on trudging on. She made a beeline for the ticket station and smiled tightly at the man selling tickets, her hair slowly getting soaked with snow.

"I'm here to pay the fare for two people traveling to Moscow." She said in perfect Russian and set a sack of jewels on the counter. The man raised an eyebrow,

"We only accept Rubles." He said, and at this, she sighed,

"A fare to Kashchei. Tell him it is from Idris Tana, please." She said, and the man gained a knowing look in his eye before taking the jewels and nodding.

"Safe travels, miss."

Idris and Mikhail boarded the train again and set off. Mikhail shed his coat and shook out his hair to get rid of the extra snow still clinging to the strands.

"Who is Kashchei, and why do you need to pay him?" He asked, and Idris glanced up from taking off her coat,

"A dragon, we're passing through his territory, so I need to pay him to pass through without a fight or drama. I included you just in case. I don't know how stingy he is about vampires in his territory. Jewels are the easiest way to appease a dragon, so it's the most common way to pay fares. Don't worry, though; Moscow is a neutral territory, so we won't have to pay a fare to anyone once we get there."

…

1932; Moscow, Russia

Seven days, one ferry, three trains, and one taxi later, they finally reached their destination, Moscow, Russia.

Mikhail was worn out, his coat weighed heavily on his shoulders, and his feet ached. But they still trudged on. Idris seemed intent on finding something, in particular, yellow eyes hidden behind her sunglasses yet still scanning shop names and storefronts. He didn't say anything though, what could he say? He didn't want to ask more questions, and conversation wasn't exactly a skill Yevgraf held great pride in teaching during the years of their Blood Pact.

The snow had thankfully stopped, but that didn't prevent Mikhaik's feet from freezing. He shoved his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat and trudged after Idris's shorter form. She ducked briefly into a shop but reemerged several seconds later before Mikhail could even enter the shop.

"Not the right shop. Mind helping me? We're looking for a shop called "Opal's Emporium and Fortune Telling," it should be along this street." She said, and Mikhail glanced up to the shop names and pointed,

"You mean this Opal's Emporium and Fortune Telling?" Idris blinked several times and paused, glancing up at the shop just across the street from where they were. It was a ramshackle little thing, with a sagging roof and dirty windows. The sign creaked and swayed in the breeze, advertising the shop. Idris nodded and clapped a hand once or twice on his shoulder with a smile,

"See, I knew there was a reason I brought you along! Let's go inside." They quickly crossed the street, and Mikhail opened the door, a bell chiming overhead.

Inside was a complete mess. Someone had piled stacks of knick-knacks and books and miscellaneous objects high towards the ceiling. Bookshelves lined the walls, stuffed with books, scrolls, and papers. The hardwood floor beneath them was covered in a layer of dust, their shoes leaving tracks as they walked further and further into the store. Rugs covered nearly every inch of everything else except for a single path winding through the shop and presumably towards the front desk. Idris glanced to Mikhail, shrugged once, hung her coat and muff on the bent coat rack by the front door, and began the trek through the store. Mikhail shed his coat and began to do the same. At one point, Idris and Mikhail had to turn sideways to fit between two bookshelves before they even got to the front desk.

The front desk had seen better days; the old oak was cracked down the middle and piled high with books and papers, an old mirror sat on top of one pile, and a basket of what looked like jars of jams and jellies on another. A rusty old bell sat in front of them, and after a moment, Idris rang it. There was the sound of something crashing in the backroom before the door to said back room opened with a plum of dust, and someone came crashing out.

At first, Mikhail couldn't tell what he was looking at; was it a person? Whoever it was, they were covered in dust and soot from something. Then, abruptly, the person shot to their feet.

The man was tall, with a wild shock of white hair sticking out like he had been electrocuted. His eyes were a deep green with slitted pupils. He wore a bolo tie and a rumpled button-down shirt with bunched-up sleeves tucked into a pair of equally rumpled trousers. His feet were bare, and he had a near-maniacal grin on his face, showing off his pointy teeth.

Spotting Idris, the man let out a delighted shriek and bounced over, grasping her face and planting two sloppy kisses, one on either cheek.

"Why, Miss Idris Tana! What a lovely surprise! I didn't know you were in Moscow! The man crowed and wrapped her up in a hug, lifting her off the ground. Idris let out a rather pathetic-sounding squeak as her feet left the floor, and she awkwardly patted the man's back.

"It's good to see you too, Opal; put me down now, please?" She gasped and quickly straightened her clothes and hair once set on her own two feet. Mikhail watched this entire exchange in amusement. This Opal fellow almost reminded him of Klarwein. Just less psychotic obsession over machinery and experiments. Idris finished straightening her blazer and gestured to Mikhail,

"Opal, this is Mikhail; he's a Sirius turned vampire. Mikhail, this is Opal, the Soothsayer. He's going to help us find your brother.