It was midday. Isaac awoke to the sound of Susan running around the kitchen, screaming. He reflexively reached for his dagger, again, only to find that familiar pain in his arms, again. He would not be able to fight for quite some time, he figured.
"Oh, don't mind her! She's just misbehaving" Samantha yelled to Isaac as she started to chase Susan with a broom. Isaac began to regain his lucidity, and was left perplexed. Why was this woman, who has a family and life of her own, go out of her way to help him? He had no money or belongings on him. Perhaps she knew of his talents and wanted salvation from hell, like the merchant? Isaac mustered all of his strength and stood up, grasping the wall for support. He walked over to Samantha, who had grown tired of chasing Susan and was washing the dishes in a tiny, makeshift stone sink. "Thank you for your hospitality" he spoke solemnly. Samantha continued to wash the dishes, but in a slower, more quiet rhythm, as if she heard the compliment, but was too preoccupied to give it proper notice.
Isaac continued "I do not have anything to give you, but I wish to repay you for your service. I am a forge-"
"Why that's very kind of you. You don't need to give me anything. If you're set on doing something, be a good man and grab some onions for me in the city square. If you need some more rest, I can grab one of the street boys to do it."
Isaac was taken aback once more, realizing that the only way for him to return his gratitude was to do as she said.
"Of course."
"Perfect, here's some coins." Samantha muttered as she took out her purse and handed Isaac 3 silver coins. She flashed a warm smile to Isaac before promptly resuming her task of washing the dishes and muttering directions to him. Isaac left the hut and proceeded to head towards the market square. He had been accustomed to having glares thrown at him whenever he would be in crowded places. The desert cities were seldom friendly, as everyone was either hostile, or nice for the sake of wanting something from you. Isaac had learned to navigate through this atmosphere through series of false trust and mishaps, and kept a stoic glare imprinted on his face whenever in a crowd of people. However, these crowds felt different. For example, outside of the hut was an open field that lent itself to gatherings of local townsfolk. Be it merchants, criers, or even children, none of them gave Isaac a second glance.
"Interesting, perhaps there will be more trouble when I make it to the square" Isaac thought as he began to weave through the narrow streets of the city. Surprisingly, even with the increased traffic, not a single malicious glare was given. He was not a ghost, he concluded, since they had moved aside for him when the streets got too narrow, and a villager had even muttered an apology after bumping into him. So what was this sorcery? Was this what it felt like to be a villager?
Isaac had finally made it to the market square, an open concrete field littered with a random assortment of grocery carts. To the left stood the produce, the merchants selling only the most basic necessities such as potatoes and leeks, as this was not a Southern town where spices ran galore. To the right stood a conglomeration of meat carts, the smell of salmon and rosemary lingering in the air. To the far center stood a stone monastery, etched in the gothic art style, its spires piercing into the crisp, blue sky. The market was packed with villagers, each bustling around the shopping carts like a swarm of bees in a hive. Isaac made his way left, to the cart selling onions, the merchant an older man with a weathered beard of grey. He had a scholar's look about him, with a pair of furrowed eyebrows that betrayed his intellectual curiosity.
"Excuse me, I would like to buy as much onions as these coins can afford" Isaac inquired as he approached the merchant.
The merchant gave him a curious look, before finally replying:
"Sure, go and grab yourself 6 onions, good sir."
"Good sir? Perhaps you speak too soon, for you do not know me." Isaac spoke with a external display of humor. Deep down, he was serious. The merchant was oblivious to the danger he was in.
"Aye, but what is the harm of calling one a good sir? For to speak the name cost me nothing, yet gives you a brief sense of happiness."
"I suppose so, if you believe that name calling is the key to happiness."
"Simple acts are! Its good business to keep your customers happy. Good business for your wallet, and good business for your soul. You'd be surprised on how hard it is to keep a produce stand running."
"I have no doubt. Thank you for the onions" Isaac spoke in a tone that implied that he was finished with the conversation.
"Of course. Grab another one while you're at it- another simple act of kindness for you" the merchant smiled as he gestured towards the basket of onions. His brows beckoning for Isaac's hand to take a plunge.
"Why.. Thank you." Isaac murmured, awkwardly taking the 7th onion and stuffing it with the rest. He began to walk away from the merchant, turning his attention to the streets he came from.
"Of course! Be sure to come back soon!" The man yelled back before he turned to a middle aged father who brought his son and daughter. As Isaac was further down the square, he glanced back at the stand and saw the merchant make a funny face at the boy, eliciting laughter from the siblings and the father. Isaac turned back and continued to weave his way back to the hut, his mind preoccupied. "What compels a man to be so happy? Is he oblivious to the world around him?" Isaac thought as he returned to Samantha and Susan's abode. It was sunset, and the darkness began to creep on the rooftops of the houses. As Isaac entered into the kitchen, he saw that the dinner table had been set for 3 people. Samantha was in the middle of cooking what seemed to be meat patties and mashed potatoes, and Susan was in the bedroom drawing on the floor. Samantha paused her cooking and turned around and walked over to Isaac, briskly snagging the onions from him.
"Thank you for getting the onions. Dinner should be ready soon"
"Dinner? I am not hungry."
"Well, suit yourself, but you haven't eaten in at least a day."
"Why are you offering me so much, when I have nothing to give in return?" his tone desperate to understand
"Because I saw you dying out there in the field, and I did not want to see a young man such as yourself lose his life because of war. There are too many that die too young because of war. Most importantly, I made some extra food and the alley cats are getting a little too fat."
Silence. Isaac pondered the offer and silently chuckled at the last statement. He was starving, actually. It would take some time to think of a plan to return back to his castle, and he needed to regain his strength to do so. Perhaps there would be no harm in staying for dinner, if this woman was insistent on doing so. He had reason to trust her intentions, and did not feel a sense of urgency or danger.
"Thank you. Come to think of it, I am starving. I would like to have dinner."
"Perfect. I'm finishing it up right now" Samantha stated as she began to load up the plate and call Susan to the table. Susan came running with a smirk on her face, as if she had just done something innocently mischievous, as most children do. Together, they all sat on the small oak table in the middle of the kitchen, barely large enough to fit all three of them. It was night time now, and the only illumination came from an assortment of candles randomly dispersed on the counter tops and tables. The food was simple- meat, lettuce, onions, and potatoes. However, it filled Isaac up far more than any meal in recent memory. As the awkward silence began to ease, Samantha asked, with a spoonful of lettuce in her mouth.
"So, Isaac, what brought you to Admont?"
A palpable tension filled the air. Isaac pondered the different ways he could word his answer, before finally uttering.
"I am a forgemaster. I am able to summon demons from the gates of hell"
"This was it" Isaac thought. This was when he'd have to unsheathe his blade and kill Samantha and Susan. It was a pity, since they had only shown him kindness. But usually people became hostile once they learned of Isaac's true identity. He had slowly regained his strength from the food, and was ready to pounce the moment he would hear abrupt movement from either of them.
"Hmmm.. Have you seen her grandmother by any chance?"
Susan spit the food out of her mouth, laughing as Samantha began to release a crackle. Isaac stood dumfounded, unsure of how to answer this question.
"I… Do not know…"
"I apologize.. Poor joke on my part. She was a good woman, just a bit too strict with the girl."
"I am not joking."
"I didn't think you were. They did find some night creatures out in the fields, I guess they thought they came with the army. So is this where you kill us and make us your demons too?"
While the question was worded lightheartedly, Isaac did notice a nervous tension in the air. He knew that he had the upper hand.
"I… No. You have shown me kindness and hospitality. I have no reason to."
"Well, that's good. I suppose kindness does make a difference."
The rest of the dinner was silent, as Isaac and Samantha became lost in their own thoughts. Susan, bless her young soul, was oblivious of the gravity of the situation. When she had finished her meal, she had asked to excuse herself, and ran back to her bedroom. After a few more minutes of cleaning their plates. Samantha stood up and took Isaac's empty plate from him, heading over to the sink.
"The cot is still yours, if you'd like it. Otherwise, I can't hold you here against your will. I'd greatly appreciate it if you didn't make me into a night creature, I'd like to see my little girl grow up one day."
"You have my word."
"Thank you. I'll be in the other bedroom. If you need anything, holler."
"Thank you."
Isaac made his way back to the cot. Perhaps he could make his way back to his city tomorrow morning when the sun rose? Or should he stay an extra day or two and help Samantha in repayment for her hospitality? Isaac decided towards the latter, drifting off to sleep once more- the warmth of the meat and potatoes easing his body into a peaceful slumber.
"Get dressed! I have to show you something" Lenore giggled as she began to push Hector out of bed. Hector still struggled to grasp the events of the night before, but to no avail. He soon dropped the subject and began to dress himself in the black cloak Lenore had given him yesterday.
"I don't suppose you're showing me another cell?"
"Hmph, silly. I'm showing you your new forge!" Lenore said as she began to wait by the door, smiling.
"Already?" Hector was surprised at the quick turnaround it took to build his home. It had taken Dracula 3 days to build the forge alone.
"Yes! We vampires are quite efficient you know." Lenore purred seductively, blatantly eyeing Hector's body as he clumsily dressed into his new tunic.
"Al.. Alright then." Hector failed to return the seductive nod.
"Good boy. Come on!" Lenore beckoned, her patience waning. Hector finished putting on his shirt and walked over her. She gripped Hector's hand.
Lenore began to drag Hector through the labyrinth of hallways once more, this time taking a slightly different path than the one before. Hector realized that she was leading him through a section of the castle he had never seen before, the walls were less ornate and the breeze became stronger. Before long he found himself walking outside the castle towards a polished oak house, adorned with a crimson roof, emerald colored door, and a hearty marble chimney- its warmth creating a welcoming glow that contrasted the frigid outdoors. If Hector had the means, he would have imagined that this is what his dream home would look like. As he followed Lenore inside, he noticed that the home consisted of four rooms. A modest but high quality kitchen with a stone island countertop stacked with an abundance of spices awaited them upon entering, connected to a master bedroom with furniture similar to the one they had just left. This bedroom had a few differences such as wooden floors instead of marble, neutral colors instead of crimson, and less ornate of a design. It seemed that Lenore had created this house in the image of what she believed Hector would like, with a flair of her own. While the feminine qualities of polished wood and silk bedding remained, the art design took a more masculine and minimalist tone, acknowledging Hector's simplicity while respecting Lenore's appreciation for the extravagant. The third room was a study that resembled a mini library, seethed in the scent of paper and mahogany. It contained a multitude of shelves stacked with various tomes of magic and forging, the walls so packed with shelves that there was no room for any wall décor. Simplistic, just how Hector liked it.. In the far center of the study stood a decent sized oak desk illuminated with candles- was it the same one in the cell? It seemed that Lenore took notice of Hector's affinity for reading. The final room was a forge- modeled with the exact same design as the forge he had in Dracula's castle, the only addition was a large marble fireplace in the center.
"Forgive the design, but we've never had a forge master before, and we wanted to make sure the forge was a model you were used to working with." Lenore murmured, her hand still tightly holding Hector's.
"Uhm, thank you." Hector responded, still trying to process it all.
"Do you like it?" It seemed like a genuine question.
"Yes, I suppose."
"Good." Lenore turned around began to embrace Hector and give him a peck on the lips, then parting herself and stating, in a wistful tone:
"I have to go back to the council chambers. But I'll be back tonight."
"Alright" Hector responded, going with the flow of the moment. He had been too preoccupied with the overload of sensory information to be properly in the moment with her.
Lenore glided out the door, leaving Hector alone to adjust to his new surroundings.
"Will the forge do?" Striga asked as Lenore entered the council chambers, Morana And Carmilla were in the far left corner, pouring themselves a glass of blood.
'I suppose so. I guess the puppy is still processing it all" Lenore responded in a matter of fact tone as she walked towards the table. Carmilla turned around, surprised at her response.
"So you agree that he's an idiot?"
"He has a lot to learn" Lenore spoke diplomatically, focusing her attention on the battle map.
"How soon do you think he will be able to build us an army?" Morana enquired as she began to move towards the center table, joining Striga and Lenore. Carmilla remained by the cabinet, her face slighltly annoyed as she let out a scoff.
"He'll be able to build it as soon as we damn well tell him to. He has the forge" Carmilla responded curtly. She knew the question was not meant for her.
"Yes… But he's a bit exhausted from all the change, I'd say we should give him a couple of days before he's back at his full strength" Lenore suggested meekly- she knew Carmilla would have none of it.
"Oh bloody hell, he's our forge master. We tell him to build and he'll do it."
"Carmilla, I think that this time we should listen to Lenore, she did fix this problem" Morana reasoned. She knew that Lenore was far too diplomatic to argue with Carmilla when she was irritated, and this compelled her to side with Lenore from time to time. Usually this would yield fruitful results, but Carmilla was having none of it today. She was now bordering on bewilderment and fury.
"Are you all just going to stand there and pamper the idiot like he's a fucking prince?! We gave him a forge, we gave him a home, so he better make us something when we tell him to! Now, if you three aren't women enough to do it, I will" Carmilla exploded as she waited for one of the sisters to challenge her. After an awkward silence and no responses, Carmilla rushed out of the council chamber, cursing under her breath and she slammed the door and began to pace down the hallway toward the hut.
"Hector."
Carmilla called dryly as she invited herself into his new home. He was in the study, still examining the countless tomes of sorcery gifted to him when she found him. She had attempted to sneak up behind him but Hector noticed her scent, turning around to face her as she entered the study. A palpable tension filled the air. Hector stared at her nervously, he had not forgotten the months of abuse she had given him during their march to Styria. He let out an involuntary flinch when she began to move closer to him.
"How do you like the forge?"
"Good, I th-"
Carmilla cut him off
"Good. Listen, I need you to start making an army NOW. Frankly, we're a bit behind on production so Striga will give you a pile of bodies within the hour to work on, and I expect you to work until its done.
"Today? I haven't even been he—"
Carmilla raised her hand to strike Hector. He involuntarily flinched and braced himself for the impact that was about to come, but as she swung, Carmilla felt a jolt of searing pain course through her body, originating from her striking hand and making its way down to her core. If someone had poured electric lava on her body and allowed it to flow through her like a lightning rod, she would have been a smidge happier. She fell on the wooden floor, screaming as her body began to throb uncontrollably. Hector stood dumbfounded, standing over her, trying to make sense of what was going on. After a minute of wailing and clenching the pain instantly subsided, with Carmilla panting on the ground, her eyes wide from shock. "What the fuck was that?!" Carmilla internally screamed, her mind going instantly towards the ring that Lenore had given her. Hector continued to stand over her, this time his face stern, and his posture powerful. Once she regained the energy to stand up, however, his meekness began to resurface. Carmilla crawled away from him towards the door before finally assuming her full posture.
"This isn't over. I still expect an army" She glared.
Hector regained his powerful stance. A wave of trepidation washed over Carmilla. Hector did not respond.
Carmilla had the urge to demand a response, but was too shocked to follow through. Apart from disbelief, she almost felt a sense of awe towards the human- she had forgotten how tall and powerfully build Hector really was. She jolted through the main door faster than Hector's eyes could manage, leaving nothing but the scent of fear and panic. He stood motionless.
As strange as it sounded to him, Hector had enjoyed seeing Carmilla scream and squirm. He had always identified as a pacifist, but seeing this wretched monster experience an ungodly amount of pain gave Hector a jolt not even Lenore could compensate for. It left him with a subtle tingle coursing through his body, washing over his chest like ecstasy. He had liked being in control. Liked seeing the horror take over as he stood there, invincible. For a blessed moment she was nothing, and he was everything. A perfect parallel to the world that she had given him. A smile began to surface on his face as he walked back to his desk, resuming his research on Vampire physiology.
