Half Moon Rising

by ninjamouse1

There's a fine line between human and fiend and when Class VII is formed with ten members instead of nine that line will stretch to breaking point. When an experimental project is already blurring the lines between commoner and nobility, magical and mundane, one more chaotic element couldn't possibly hurt. What does it mean to be human? And is it worth trying to understand?

12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Now that Evander was free from his nightly remedial history lessons, he was back into his Occult Research Society Club meetings with the frustratingly obscure Beryl trying to teach him all manner of occult gibberish. She insisted that while before he'd been limited by the Imperial Government, he hadn't needed any sort of ritual focus to use his psychic gifts, they'd help him now. If he used crutches like crystal balls and tarot cards, he could use his powers without so much backlash from the hidden quartz designed to block him. In theory, they'd take some of the strain, and he wouldn't nearly kill himself trying to deduce someone's shoe size. The operative words being 'in theory' because it was his third night of staring into a crystal ball and so far the only insight, he'd received was that he hated Beryl more and more. She was moving higher up his list of people he needed to severely beat at some point. Actually, speaking of Beryl.

"Who was your mother?" asked Evander suddenly, looking up from the crystal ball to direct his piercing dark eyes onto Beryl. He couldn't believe he'd never asked before, after all, if Beryl was a quarter vampire, one of her parents must have been a dhampir like him. Considering that he thought the Half-Moon Clan were the only dhampirs in Erebonia, who had Beryl's mother been? And he was assuming it was her mother on a hunch, one he wasn't going to examine too closely lest he risk the wrath of his psychic limiter watch.

"She was not one of your clan," said Beryl, completely unfazed by his sudden question, "she came from elsewhere, far to the east. She was like you, in some ways, she sought to master her thirst. Only she couldn't rely on your word of iron, so tried to control the thirst through eastern meditative practices. There are some who say those descended from fiends will never attain enlightenment, but it did not stop my mother from trying. Maybe she would have succeeded, and escaped the thirst but we shall never know. She was killed."

"Vampire hunters?" asked Evander. His first instinct had been to say he was sorry for her loss, but he got the feeling that wouldn't have gone down well. He hadn't known her mother, nor was he particularly close with her daughter, any condolences he'd offered would have rung hollow to her.

"Ha!" Beryl let out a short, sharp laugh. Though perhaps laugh was the wrong word, because the sound was utterly mirthless. "You mean vampire hunters like your mother? That would be a cruel joke, wouldn't it? If your mother had killed my mother? I almost wish it were true, it would be more dramatic if I could swear vengeance upon you and wreak havoc with my darkest curses. But no, human hunters did not kill my mother. She was slain by vampires. Full ones, not cross breeds like you or I."

"But why? I thought true vampires ignored our kind?"

"Most do. Though there are some that hunt us. For all kinds of reasons. Some think we pose more sport than pure humans. Others see us as a dangerous dilution of their precious curse. Still others do it out of pure cruelty, simply because they can. It was the last kind that killed my mother. They found her attempts to master her thirst…amusing, shall we say. They captured us, my mother, my father, and me, and then attempted to force her to kill us, drink us dry. She refused, and she would not break, no matter what they tried. So they grew bored and killed her in front of us."

"And your father? Did they kill him too?"

"Not in the literal sense, no. He was a mortal, and not worth their time. So they didn't physically strike him down. But imagine, he had to watch the woman he loved, a woman who by all rights should have had eternity, die right in front of him. I remember it still, him holding her broken body in his arms. By the expression on his face, you'd think he was dead, not her. And he was, mentally, spiritually, emotionally, any way you want to put it. He became a shell, an automaton, blank faced and cold. I tried to help him; I really did. But I failed, and so I ran away, and I don't dare go back. Not because I'm afraid he hasn't missed me. Rather I'm afraid that he hasn't even noticed I've been gone in the first place."

"Why are you telling me this?" asked Evander after a long pause.

"Because you asked," she said, with a small smile, "and more importantly, so you know you are not alone with your miserable past. There are a million stories just like ours, and closer than you think. We cannot change what was, but we can show compassion moving forwards, to bring light to the darkness dwelling in the pasts of others."

"Is this your convoluted way of telling me to be nicer to people?" asked Evander.

"Perhaps. I have heard you have been behaving strangely of late, disturbing people. You look in the mirror and think you have the right to be strange, after the life you have had. But consider how many others suffered in the past, and are suffering now, or will suffer in the future. Try to be kinder Evander."

"In that case, can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead."

"Why can't you be kinder to your mother?"

"Excuse me?"

"You said you didn't know if she'd ever had reached enlightenment. I think that greatly dishonours her memory. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'd say she did find enlightenment. In the end. She did master her thirst. She died rather than harm the people she loved. Do you not see that? Or are you just wilfully ignoring it?" There was a long silence, Beryl just looked at him with the closest thing he'd ever seen to pure emotion on her face.

"I should curse you for daring to say that to me. I should curse you with the curse of a thousand shrieking mandrakes for your insolence."

"But you won't."

"No. Not today. Because you are right. I am ignoring the thought that she found enlightenment. Because if I accept it? Then what? What sort of world do we live in where my mother could achieve her life's goal, only to die mere moments later? To perish without ever getting to enjoy her success?"

"Would you rather she'd died without mastering her thirst?"

"No Evander," she said coldly, "I'd have preferred she'd have lived, thirst or no. I think this meeting is over." She noiselessly rose from her chair and stalked out, and for the first time Evander regretted his dislike for the girl. He stayed in his seat for a moment, to let her get away from him, and idly gazed into the crystal ball to pass the time. For a few seconds he thought he saw an image reflected in it, of Beryl and a woman who must have been her mother standing side by side, laughing and smiling. But he dismissed it as a trick of his weary mind, rather than psychic insight. After all, his gifts were supposed to show what would be, not what could never be.

Scene Break Here

Evander thought their next meeting would be awkward, but Beryl was back to her usual self and just ordered him to shuffle a deck of tarot cards as though their last conversation had never happened. Weirdly enough, that made Evander feel even worse about hurting her, so he resolved to take her advice to heart. To try and be a better person. She'd been right, everyone had been saying similar things, not just her. Instructor Sara had pointed out something much the same back in Celdic, that he'd been straddling the fence between fiend and human, holding himself apart from either and thinking that made him exempt from social conventions. With that new lens, watching back his actions of the last few days was almost painful. Ambushing Monica in Le Sage Boutique with his weird demands, scaring the life out of Emil when he could have just knocked on a door. Sara was right, he would never be a vampire, but he could try better at being a man. And one of things men did, and that Evander at least could say he was good at, was keeping their word. So, he arranged a meeting with Colette to honour his promise that she could design his new wardrobe. He didn't really want to, because fashion interested him about as much as moss growing across a stone did, but he'd given his word. And it would make her happy, which might stop the memory of Beryl lecturing him about being a light in the darkness from playing through his mind.

So that's why he found himself in an empty classroom after school hours with Colette flittering around him, taking measurements and muttering to herself. She seemed totally absorbed in her work, and not at all bothered by the lack of conversation, but Evander was finding it as awkward as hell. He wasn't suited to being a clothes horse and was finding this whole process more than a little disconcerting. So, he tried to make some conversation to pass the time, and relieve the weirdness.

"So you said back the assembly that you wanted to make your name in the fashion industry," he started. "Why come to Thors then? Do you want to design army uniforms or something?"

"Not really," said Colette, "I'm more into accessories to be honest."

"Combat accessories? Like uh, grenades? Ammo belts?"

"No silly. Cute ones like Mishy."

"And studying at a military academy will help you with that how exactly?"

"It won't."

"I don't mean to sound rude then, but why are you here?"

"I don't know," Colette shrugged, "does there have to be a deep reason for everything? I just threw a dart at a map of schools. Besides, not everyone who comes here joins the military. Heaps of students go on to do other things, it's not a requirement."

"I know. It just seems like a really strange choice. It seems like I can count on one hand the students I've met who would actually be suited for military service. There's even a girl here who wants to be a nun. This place is just weird."

"Why did you come here then? Do you want to be a soldier?"

"I didn't have a choice, I was kind of pressganged into it."

"What do you actually want to do then?"

"Promise you won't repeat this, because my classmates would never let me hear the end of it, but I've always wanted to be a farmer. Even before I found out my father used to be one. Weird huh?"

"Hmm, vampire farmer, that's a new a style! Ooh, you could have a scythe! That'd fit with both!"

"Please don't try and dress me like a farmer," said Evander, "besides, it'll never happen. I asked Beryl what I'd be doing after graduating and she said I had a life of service ahead of me, whatever that means."

"Service? Like a waiter? Vampire waiter, that's interesting too!"

"Don't dress me up like a waiter either! Are you actually good at this or are you just crazy?"

"Hey! I have an amazing eye for fashion. You'll be the best dressed vampire on campus."

"That's a pretty low bar, but sure."

"Alright, I'm done," said Colette, putting her measuring tape away. "Just let me do some calculations," she pulled out her notebook and start scribbling some numbers down.

"Um, what exactly are you calculating?"

"The cost," she said simply, oblivious to Evander's distress.

"You do realise I'm broke right?" he said finally when was still scribbling a minute later.

"Just sell one of your castles then," she said, "I thought all vampires were rich."

"I don't have any castles!" protested Evander, "look, I'm going to need some time to get mira together, so don't start anything until I give you the all clear!"

"Okay!" she said, flashing him a smile, "I need some time to work up some sketches anyway, so this will work out."

"That remains to be seen," muttered Evander, "time for another brilliant plan."

Scene Break Here

Evander realised he technically already had a job spying for the Intelligence Division, so his 'brilliant' plan was to contact them and ask when he'd be getting paid. Of course, he did this in usual ridiculous style. He found a quiet spot to use his communicator and then the nonsense started up.

"Yo dude, it's the Leech here!"

"Who?" came the annoyed the reply.

"The Leech man! I'm selling battery acid!"

"Oh Aidios the lunatic is the on the comms again," groaned the man on the other end, "what do you want Starving Leech?"

"I'm looking to reel in some mira," said Evander, "when can I start working for the Intelligence Division?"

"What sort of work do you do?"

"Oh, you know, model train construction, listening to Northen Rock, repairing orbal lamps, playing the fiddle. Whatever you've got."

"None of those sound like things we'd need I'm afraid. We do information gathering_"

"Oh that's me man!"

"You need experience to work here, what experience do you have?"

"I experienced RockStock man."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously! I was there! Rolling in the mud and drinking blood. I grew up in Celdic man, imagine it, every year Northen Rock blaring over the orbal speakers out in the fields under the stars."

"Yeah, somehow I don't think that qualifies you for intelligence work."

"Dude, you're tripping me out! Don't be a flatliner! I need the mira really badly. I'm broke."

"How come you're broke?"

"I don't know man, my life sort of started going downhill when I stopped drinking blood. The thirst drives me crazy; I haven't slept since last Friday."

"Yeah well, I don't think we can help with that."

"Put Captain Claire on the comms!" complained Evander, "she'll help me out!"

"Captain Claire is extremely busy right now."

"She'll make time for me. Put her on the comms!"

"She's not even here."

"Then give me a lift to where to where she is."

"Me personally?"

"Yeah, come and pick me up."

"I'm in Ordis! Do you know how far Ordis is from Trista?"

"I don't know, do I look like a travel directory to you?"

"You sound like a time waster, I know that. I'm going to get off the comms now."

"Don't you dare hang up on me! I'm going to be a rockstar one day man! You're going to hear me on the radio!"

"Yeah, well I don't even have a radio, so I don't think I'll be hearing you. Goodbye!" The comm went dead.

"Damn! Those guys are such bastards!" muttered Evander.

"Who? The voices in your head?" Evander spun around and nearly died of shock. Crow Armbrust was standing right behind him.

"What the hell man!? Are you a ninja or something? How'd you sneak up on me!?"

"You were so busy talking to yourself, I guess you didn't notice," said Crow, shrugging. "What's the problem?"

"Oh you know, I was just looking for a job," explained Evander. "I need to reel in the mira."

"What happened to the millions you made at the track?"

"The G-Men stole it," groused Evander, "could have left some of it behind but they looted the lot!"

"Sucks to be you man," said Crow, laughing, "but I think I can help you out. You know Fred over at Kirsche's Café right? He owes you a huge favour over that tip you gave him on the horses. I'm sure he'd hire you as a waiter or something."

"Seriously!? I don't recall telling him anything about horses but who cares! I'm going there right now! Thanks Crow!"

"Hey, that's what I'm here for, just remember me next time you get a hot tip for the Summer Races."

"Dude, I don't do that anymore!" said Evander. "Whatever, I'm going to be a vampire waiter after all. This day just gets weirder and weirder."

Scene Break Here

"Well well well if it isn't the horse whisperer himself!" said Fred, perking up from his afternoon slump the moment Evander walked into the café. "Got another tip for me? I made a killing on Telepathic Titan last time! Those idiots at the track all thought that horse was a lame nag! The odds were through the roof!"

"You know, I think my reputation for being crazy is grossly underserved," complained Evander, "if I can walk into a café and get greeted with nonsense like that. I have no idea what you're talking about man."

"Oh, you can't talk about it right? I heard you got arrested for race fixing or something. Typical huh? Anyone gets a little too good at playing the odds and suddenly they're a criminal. The house always wins and all that. How can I help you then? I don't think we have any drinks with blood in them."

"You've seen me drink normal tea," said Evander, rolling his eyes, "and I'd be kind of concerned if you did serve blood here anyway. Do you know a Crow? A human called Crow, not a bird."

"Yeah sure, great kid, comes in here all the time."

"Thank you Aidios! Finally we're getting somewhere!" said Evander, "he mentioned you might be able to give me a job as a waiter?"

"You want to work as a waiter?" Fred sounded genuinely baffled, "aren't you a millionaire?"

"Man, I don't even have two mira to rub together right now," said Evander, "the government nicked all my winnings."

"That sucks alright," said Fred, "couldn't they have just put it into a trust until you were older or something? I mean sure, you don't want to encourage underage gambling but with you it's not even gambling. That's like locking someone up for saying the sun will come up tomorrow."

"Exactly! You get it! Gambling wasn't dangerous for me, so I shouldn't have been punished for doing it! You're a weird dude, but a cool dude. Anyway, about the job…?"

"You might be perfect for a new idea we were thinking about lately," mused Fred, "midterms are coming up soon and students will be looking for a place to pull all-nighters to study. The library stays open around exam time but they don't have food and drinks like we do. If you could work nights we could keep the place open and make a killing on coffee sales."

"Then I'm your man!" enthused Evander, "I have chronic insomnia anyway, so working nights wouldn't be a problem for me. And I could always catch some sleep in history class anyway if I did get tired."

"Then we've got a deal!" said Fred, "welcome to the team! Come back after closing time and Dollie and I will give you a crash course on your new job."

"Wait a minute," said Evander, some pieces were falling into place in his mind, leading him to realise this was a perfect opportunity to test out Beryl's lessons on the use of rituals as a psychic crutch. "Can I have a menu please?"

"Do you want to order something after all?"

"Nope. I've come up with a cunning plan to make this the greatest café in all Erebonia. The only one with a psychic waiter!"

"Now this I have to see!" said Fred, reaching behind the counter and handing Evander a menu.

"Thanks, now I'll just need a few other things. Like…a hat!" Without a word of apology or explanation Evander walked over to an old man dozing at the bar and whipped his hat off. "And a pen!" He looked around and saw Machias sitting outside, sipping a coffee and working on a crossword. "Perfect!" Evander walked outside and patiently stood directly in Machias' light until the boy looked up and noticed him.

"Of course," he sighed, "I take one five minute study break and the universe punishes me by sending Evander to ruin it. Even Aidios wants me to cram for midterms," he reasoned.

"Is that any way to talk to your best friend?" groused Evander, "your old pal from the million mira race heist?"

"I have it in writing that I was forced into that!" snapped Machias, "now I've got one clue left to solve and then I'll have time for whatever nonsense you've got planned_"

"Sanguine," said Evander. "That's the answer."

"Excuse me!?"

"Check. It fits right?" Scowling the whole time, Machias checked out the answer Evander had provided him, allowing Evander to subtly wipe away the trickle of blood from his nose. It had been painful to use his psychic gift for something so petty, but worth it just for the look on Machias' face.

"It does," admitted Machias eventually, "but I don't like to rely on hocus pocus for this sort of_"

"I need to borrow your pen," interrupted Evander.

"I don't think so. You want to borrow it like you 'borrowed' several million mira from the Heimdallr race track? I don't want my pen to end up locked in an evidence locker."

"How about you lend me the pen or I tell you the answer to every single clue in every crossword you want to do for the next week?"

"You wouldn't dare!" blustered Machias.

"Try me. I'm crazy remember? I'll do it."

"Fine! Take the pen! Just promise to return it in a timely fashion and don't use it to commit any felonies." He said, handing the pen over.

"I'm hurt that you think so little of me," said Evander, adopting a fake expression of severe pain.

"I'll really hurt you if you don't clear off and leave me to my coffee break," threatened Machias.

"Alas poor Machias," said Evander, "finally learning that there are some things coffee cannot solve."

"If I threw it in your face it'd solve you alright."

"Not unless it was made with garlic extract," mused Evander, thinking the threat over far too seriously. "Did you make it with garlic?"

"Yes, Evander," deadpanned Machias, "my coffee is full of garlic."

"Gross! That's sick Machias! I'm out of here!"

"Huh?" Machias watched him leave in a state of mild shock, "I guess coffee really does solve everything. Even meddlesome dhampirs."

Scene Break Here

With his hat and his pen, Evander nearly had everything he needed for his experiment and he finished the ensemble when he spotted some kids drawing in the park. He was able to convince them to give their paper to him and go looking for Jusis instead. Apparently it was easy to convince them that the noble student was handing out free candy at the front gate of the campus and that mentioning Evander to him would earn them an extra share. With that done he just needed to cut the paper into strips and write down all the menu items onto them. Lacking scissors however, he'd drawn one of his swords and was trying to figure out how to delicately dice paper when he was hailed from behind.

"What'd that paper ever do to you?" inquired Emma pleasantly, she and Fie had been walking back to the dorm when they'd spotted Evander apparently menacing a piece of paper.

"It insulted his mother," deadpanned Fie.

"Huh?" said Evander, unable to read her sarcasm. "It did?"

"It said she was a three-legged dog," said Fie.

"It said she was Elliot?" replied Evander, still looking confused.

"Oh, not this again," sighed Emma. "Elliot is not a three-legged dog. There is no three-legged dog."

"Not here anyway," said Fie ominously.

"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Evander curiously.

"You know what? We're getting sidetracked," said Emma, wanting to head off whatever disturbing story Fie was planning to tell about seeing a three-legged dog some time in her mysterious past. "Why are you trying to kill that piece of paper Evander?"

"I just want to slice it into strips for an experiment," explained Evander, and no sooner had he expressed this had Emma reached into her bag and produced a pair of scissors.

"Here you go," she said, handing them over with considerably less difficulty than it had taken to get the pen off Machias.

"You just carry those around?" asked Evander curiously.

"Of course, it always pays to be prepared for any situation and_hey!" Fie was rummaging around through her bag.

"Where are the weapons?" she asked, "I haven't seen anything in here deadlier than those scissors."

"I don't carry weapons!" protested Emma, looking scandalized.

"Then you're not prepared for any situation," said Fie simply.

"I worry about you sometimes," said Emma, sighing.

"Don't. I carry weapons."

"That's kind of why I worry. Anyway, what's this experiment you're doing Evander?"

"It's a secret," said Evander, "but I need to write down the name of everything on the menu onto these strips of paper and then put them into this hat."

"Oh, you're going to use them to predict orders at the café?" guessed Emma, proving she was secretly the world's greatest detective. Evander gaped at her.

"Are you telepathetic too!?" he demanded.

"Not really," said Emma, looking shifty all of a sudden for some reason, "can we help? It'd be good for Fie to practice her handwriting."

"Hmm," Evander thought about it, "I guess so. Fixing Fie's handwriting would be doing a service to society. Our instructors wouldn't have to take three hours deciphering it anymore."

"I resent that," said Fie.

"You shouldn't. You write like a three-legged dog."

"I do not write like Elliot."

"Elliot writes quite well actually," interrupted Emma, "can we divide up the work now? Evander, how about you do drinks, Fie can do desserts and I'll do main meals. We'll finish in no time."

Scene Break Here

With a little help from his friends, Evander was finally ready to debut as the only psychic waiter in Trista. He had a hat full of the names of everything they served at this new place of work and his inherent psychic talent to aid him. When he walked back into Kirsche's Café after closing time Fred and Dollie the waitress were waiting for him. Dollie ran over the moment he walked in and shook his hand.

"It's so good to meet you Evander! I read your story in the newspaper, and it was beautiful!" she said, confusing him thoroughly.

"It was?"

"Yes! How you and everyone in Celdic got together and prayed for rain and Aidios answered! It was one of the most inspiring things I've ever read! And now the Goddess has given me the opportunity to work with you and teach you everything I know."

"Oh," Evander was deeply taken aback, he figured someone as devout as Dollie would have been put off by his fiend ancestry rather than inspired by it. "So you aren't bothered by having to work with a dhampir?"

"Of course not! As far as the Goddess is concerned, you've proven yourself as human as anyone else and that's good enough for me," she said.

"And you don't mind me working psychic gifts in here?"

"I was a little hesitant at first," admitted Dollie, "but then I realized if Aidios hadn't wanted you to use your gifts, you wouldn't have them. And if you're using them for the good of Trista, bringing more business here, I can't complain."

"Alright then, well allow me to demonstrate," said Evander, offering the hat to her so she could see the strips of paper inside, "pretend you're a customer for a moment, and think of something you'd like to order."

"And you'll pull the name out of the hat?" asked Dollie, sounding impressed.

"With any luck, yes. Shall we give it a go?"

"Alright, I'm thinking of my order." For a moment Evander wasn't sure exactly how to go about this in a way that wouldn't lead to a stabbing pain in his head, so he tried to remember Beryl's lessons. She'd told him the easiest way to bypass his psychic limiter was to think of himself as the conduit for his powers rather than their source. To believe that they came from another place, and through the use of rituals like tarot cards and crystal balls were channeled through him to take form in the material world. So with this in mind, rather than trying to wield his insight against Dollie's mind directly, he imagined he was letting fate itself guide his hand to the correct answer. And it seemed to work, his hand hovered over the hat for a moment, and then was drawn down like it was being pulled by a magnet towards the correct answer. His fingers closed around a piece of paper that felt correct, and there was a slight throb of pain behind his eyes, but nothing like the burning knife wound he usually felt when using his gift. With a proud flourish he whipped the paper out of the hat and presented it to Dollie.

"Is this, your order?"

"Yes! That's amazing! I bet even nobles won't complain about the service if you do it like that!"

"Ha! I can't believe it! It actually worked!" Evander punched the air in triumph, "and it barely hurt! I'm back in business!"

"Alright, alright, don't get too excited," said Dollie, "you've still got a lot to learn about being a waiter. Taking orders is only part of the job. First, I'll show you how to properly set a table."

Scene Break Here

It was late into the night by the time Evander had finished his first training session in the arts of the hospitality industry, but he had one more task to do before he was due to return to the dorm. He had to thank Beryl for effectively restoring his psychic gifts to him and luckily he knew where to find her. She'd be in the Occult Research Society Club Room, she practically lived there after all, even at this hour. You might even say especially at this hour, because she liked to say the night was more conducive to the dark arts. The fact that the campus was supposed to be closed at night didn't seem to bother her. Nor Evander for that matter, he had a habit of going wherever he pleased. So it was no surprise to him that when he burst into the club room in the early hours of the morning that she was sitting there, peering into her crystal ball.

"Beryl! You were right! You're a genius!"

"I know," she said simply, not even looking at him.

"You're not going to ask what I'm talking about?"

"I already know. You got a ritual to work earlier tonight, didn't you? One at your new job? And it didn't cause you undue pain. You should trust me more, I know what I'm talking about."

"You know, I could do without your smug attitude, but whatever, I'm so grateful right now that I don't care. Being able to tell what people wanted to drink was one of my favorite things about these powers and now I have it back! Thanks to you! I could kiss you!"

"I'd really rather you didn't," said Beryl, making a face.

"It's just an expression," said Evander, "but will you at least settle for a handshake?"

"There's no need," said Beryl, "I accept your gratitude, but I was merely doing my duty as custodian of the dark secrets of Thors. I need my apprentice to be as effective as possible."

"I guess so. But there's something else I'd like to offer you as well. Other than my gratitude. And that's my apologies. I shouldn't have brought up that nonsense about you being unkind to your mother. Obviously, I have no idea what I'm talking about. I'm sorry." Beryl finally looked up from her crystal ball, her dark eyes piercing straight into Evander's.

"It's alright," she said, finally, "I understand why you did it. You and I, people like us, we have an insight into the world, that other people don't. Though our insight isn't infallible, we're not omniscient after all. Sometimes even I get it wrong. And even when our insights are correct, that can still hurt people. Even knowing that, when we get these insights, it's almost impossible not to share them. It's part of our curse. And Aidios knows it alienates people. How many people do you think I've scared away by revealing their terrible fates to them? People come to me for advice, true, but they don't stay to be my friend. I am… unlikable. There is no other way to put it."

"I won't insult you by uttering some platitude about how that's not true," said Evander, "because you'd see right through it. I'm not a good liar, even if it would make you feel better if I tried. I understand too, better than you think. I'm unlikable as well, for a multitude of reasons. For the longest time, I'd accepted that about myself. But you make me believe that I could change that one day. That I could be better. Until then, well I guess the two of us can just be a pair of unlikable oddballs together."

"That…" Beryl blinked, "may well be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. I may have to curse you for it. But instead, let me tell you a secret. The guardian spirit I talk about sometimes. It's my mother. There is a reason our kind are called the deathless ones, she still here, in part, guiding and protecting me."

"Is she here now?" asked Evander.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, I can't see her."

"Don't be sorry. Of course, you cannot see her, she's here for me after all, not you. Though thank you for believing me."

"In this room, I could believe anything. But her being alive, in a sense, explains something I saw in the crystal ball the other night. I think I saw your mother in it, with you, and I thought it was a mistake. But if she's here, then maybe my vision was true. Can I ask you, or her I guess, a question? In the form she's in now, is she finally free from the thirst?"

"Yes," said Beryl, "you understand, don't you, that the thirst is a curse of our bodies? A consequence of our enhanced abilities. She has left her body behind, and the thirst with it."

"And how does it feel? To be free of this damnable, insatiable thirst? To be able to look at someone and not feel this ravening hunger?"

"It is strange, that the absence of something can have a presence. But the hunger of the dhampir is so immense, so all consuming, that its absence is like an immense weight being lifted from you only for another to replace it almost immediately. You feel lighter and heavier all at once. The loss of the hunger compounded by the sudden weight of your new freedom from it. I don't know how to describe it other than that."

"That's enough Beryl," said Evander, solemn for once, "that's more than enough."

Scene Break Here

Evander returned to his dorm room to find a note addressed to him pinned to the door.

Evander, I sincerely hope your studies have progressed to the point where you can read this so I can tell you how little I appreciate your little stunt earlier today. I don't know why you would tell the children of Trista I was giving out free candy, but when a mob of the little cretins burst into the library, hollering like lunatics and demanding their free candy in the name of Evander you almost got us all thrown out of the library. If I had to study at Kirsche's Café like a certain reformist attack dog whose name I shall not mention I would be very displeased with you. The fact you did all this just to procure a piece of paper of all things makes me think you were suffering a severe psychiatric breakdown at the time so I will let it slide this once. However, I feel some sort of recompense is called for, so I have attached the receipt for the price of all the candy I was forced to buy below. Actions have consequences, and nobles should always settle their accounts so I shall expect payment within the next seven days. I am reliably informed you have taken up some sort of menial service job, so this should not be an issue for you. As a side note, whatever scheme you have going with Paula better not get her injured, she does an adequate job caring for the horses and her absence would be mildly inconvenient.

Yours sincerely, Jusis Albarea.

"What in the blazes!? How much candy did he buy!?" complained Evander, looking at the receipt pinned below the note. "Am I being ripped off? And how did he know I was working with Paula? Is the guy running a spy network?" Sighing in disgust, Evander entered his room and found another weird message waiting for him inside. It appeared as if Machias had been by and left a stack of completed crosswords. Evidently he'd been afraid Evander would in fact reveal the answers to him, and had a done a week's worth of crosswords in one day to preempt Evander's sabotage. "Sheesh, and they call me paranoid! This has been the weirdest day I've had in a long time!"

Scene Break Here

It was a few nights later that another of Evander's obligations caught up with him. He'd finished his training as a waiter and had worked a couple nights now when Munk came in, wanting an interview with a dhampir. Of course, weirdo that he was, he didn't say so in as many words, just meandered into the café one night, muttering to himself and scribbling into his notebook.

"I walked into the vampire's lair," he said quietly, "and found it to be surprisingly innocent of the trappings of sinister evil I had been expecting. I detected the strong aroma of roasted coffee, permeating the air like an obfuscating fog. Was it designed to conceal other scents, I wondered? Freshly spilt blood perhaps? The vampire had sworn he no longer partook of that crimson, life-giving liquid but was I to believe him? What made more sense? That he was a bad liar? Or a bad vampire?"

"Nice to see you too, Munk," said Evander, appearing before him, "I assume you're here for that interview I promised you? We've got the place to ourselves for the minute, if you'd take a seat I'll join you."

"The vampire told me we were alone," intoned Munk, still scribbling away furiously, "a threat? Or just a statement of fact? He was unarmed true, but is a vampire ever truly unarmed? A sword, he can put down, but his fangs will always loom out of his mouth, glinting in the dark the moonlight shining off the bells in a church graveyard."

"You're not going to do this narration thing the whole time are you?" asked Evander, "because that's going to get old fast."

"Right, sorry," said Munk, "I'm just converting this into a form that makes for the best material. I'm planning on submitting this to Abend Time you know, and it has to be written flawlessly if it's to be accepted."

"Okay…and I guess, 'I walked into a café and the dhampir dressed up as a waiter told me he'd be right over in a minute, just wouldn't cut it?"

"Exactly! You understand!" Munk swung himself into a seat at the closest table and Evander sat down across from him. "Now, I've studied the newspaper article about your adventures in Celdic meticulously and if I understand correctly, one of the doubters in the audience brought up that any human, with enough training, could perform similar feats to you and your clan. Is that true?"

"Completely," said Evander, "you can see examples of that very fact in the rest of Class Seven. I have no doubt that Laura is every bit my equal in physical strength, just as Fie is every bit as fast as me. And Rean's skill with a blade quite frankly puts me to shame. The big difference between me and them however, is that I didn't have to train to achieve of those levels. If I did work hard at increasing my skills, I could improve, but so could anyone else. And there are people, who, as far as I know, are completely human, that would still wipe the floor with me even if I trained for the next five years. Instructor Sara for example, did you know that on our first day here she nearly knocked me over with just one finger? And she wasn't even trying that hard. I was born with certain advantages, but I'm not the most dangerous person at this school, that's for sure."

"To be fair though," said Munk, "it wouldn't be your speed, or your strength, or your skill with a blade that scares people the most about you. Or makes them think you're dangerous. But your thirst for blood. That's what's going to freak people out, that's what people can't understand."

"And you want to try and understand?" prodded Evander, "understand what it's like to thirst for blood all the time?"

"In a way, yes. I want to know what it means to you. For example, what does blood taste like to you?"

"I guess the best way I can put it is this," said Evander, "imagine your favorite food, and your favorite drink combined. Now multiply that flavour you're imagining by a thousand. You don't just taste it in your mouth, but it lights up your whole body, sets your brain on fire. And you know how people say if you worked in a chocolate factory and had free chocolate every day for life you'd eventually grow to despise it? That never happens with blood. Every time is as good as the last, and not only do you never tire of it, but you never stop craving it. The thirst is always there, it can never be sated. No matter how much you drink, you'll always want more. Some people think the fact that we can barely taste regular food or drink is some facet or our curse. I personally disagree. I think that after tasting blood, our brains become so wired and addicted to it that everything else we consume becomes little more than a pale, bland imitation in comparison."

"But what does it actually taste like," pressed Munk, "if you had to compare it something else?"

"Nothing compares to blood," admitted Evander, "no offence to the chefs of the world, but nothing ever could. But if I had to say something about it's flavour I'd say it was sour, and it's sweet but most of all incomplete. I know incomplete isn't a taste, but what I'm trying to say is that you could drain a person dry and it would still just feel like an appetizer rather than a full meal. It's a taste that whets your appetite for more."

"And you constantly crave it?"

"Yes. Always have, always will."

"Do you understand then why it might be hard to just take your word that you won't drink another drop?"

"Of course. I don't expect people to just take my word for it. Trust in my abstinence will have to be earned over years, decades even. The cravings will never go away, sometimes they drive me half insane."

"How do you cope with that? I mean, how do you resist them?"

"It's an addiction, a form of madness. And there are only two ways to fight madness. The first, healthy way, is to combat madness with its opposite, clarity. But gaining clarity isn't always possible. So sometimes you have to fight fire with fire. Challenge one lunacy with another. I cannot break my word, no matter how much I might want to do so. No matter what benefit I might gain from doing so. It's simply impossible for me. That compulsion to always keep my word is infinitely more powerful than my addiction and will always win. If I even think about breaking my word, it physically hurts me. More than that, I get this sense of terrible dread, of impending doom. Like the very world will end, that terrible things will happen to me or the people I love if I don't comply. And even if some small part of me knows that it's nonsense, that people lie and break their word all the time without consequence, that knowledge is drowned out by the rest of me. By a sense of unerring certainty."

"This compulsion you talk about, do all dhampirs have it?"

"Not my specific ones, no, but in some sense or other, yes. Our minds are naturally unstable because of our existence in the twilight state between life and undeath. A body was not meant to exist in such state, and the fiendish power of our blood poisons our psyche even as it strengthens our bodies. We're all at least a little mad, it just so happens that my madness makes me safer to study with than the rest of my clan."

"Thank you! This is great material," said Munk, "now I just have a few more questions_"

"I'm going to be here all night, aren't I?" groaned Evander, "okay, fire away. But if any other customers come in I have to serve them first right? I really need to reel in the mira you know?"

Sure enough, Munk did stay there until dawn, asking question after probing question, and he even came back the next night with more. Evander didn't mind though, because it helped take his mind off the thirst which usually nearly unbearable during the long hours between dusk and dawn. And if that was the reward for humouring Munk's curiosity, then it was more than worth it in Evander's opinion.

Scene Break Here

A few days later Evander arranged to wrap up the last of his obligations from that fateful assembly when he had revealed his nature, or at least confirmed it, in front of the whole school. Fidelio of the Photography Club had wanted a photo of a vampire standing in the sunlight and Evander figured that shouldn't take too long to get out of the way. Obviously he'd never had too much contact with artists, because his thoughts that this shouldn't take long were grossly wrong. Firstly he had to hang around the club room waiting for Fidelio's apprentice Rex to finally turn up, because for some reason he'd been invited along as well. And when Rex did turn up, he seem entirely uninterested in taking Evander's photo, instead asking if the dhampir knew any 'vampire babes' he could photograph instead. Once they finally got out of the club room, Fidelio dragged them all over the campus and the town of Trista looking for the perfect location and lighting for his shot. Eventually he settled for the school roof before taking about a thousand different pictures of Evander and encouraging Rex to do the same. Evander had the sneaking suspicion that all Rex's photos of him would turn out blurry or out of focus. Or more likely to be of the various girls walking the grounds below instead of him. Before he was allowed to leave and get on with his life, Fidelio asked him to turn invisible to see if he'd still show up on photo quartz even if he was invisible to the naked eye.

By the time it was all over, Evander was tired, bored, and extremely thirsty. On some occasions he felt that keeping his word was rewarding but this wasn't one of them. When he wandered over to the photography club later to see the finished product, he was thoroughly underwhelmed. Though Fidelio raved about the lighting and contrast all Evander could see was himself standing on a rooftop looking thoroughly annoyed at life in general. If that won any prizes at all he'd be surprised. An artist, Evander was clearly not. Still, he'd kept his word and paid all his debts and life went on as usual at Thors Academy. Soon his fellow students were finding their approaching midterms to be far more concerning than any vampires on campus. Evander seemed to be one of the only people who was utterly unbothered about the impending academic doom approaching the student body. Probably because he was far too busy with other things to care very much. Any time he'd gained by escaping remedial history was swiftly eaten up by his new commitments. Regular night shifts at the café and his self-improvement quests to learn swimming and horsemanship. Speaking of which…

Scene Break Here

"Evander, I can assure you, the horse is more scared of you than you're scared of him," said Gaius, "there's no need to be afraid. He's picking up on your fear and it's making him even more anxious."

"No need to be afraid!?" demanded Evander, "need I remind you of our first lesson?" He didn't need to remind Gaius actually, that disastrous lesson was burned into everyone's minds permanently. Gaius had been trying to teach Paula and Evander the correct way to mount a horse when everything had gone completely insane. Evander, astride his mount and nervous as hell, had suddenly been afflicted by an intense hunger pain, his craving for blood stabbing through him like a hot knife. He cried out in alarm and his horse had bucked wildly, eyes rolling in blind panic. The beast's flailing hooves nearly struck Paula's mount and the girl had screamed in terror. The combination of her sudden high-pitched scream, and whatever terrible dread the horses were picking up from Evander was the last straw. Both horses bolted, taking their terrified riders with them. By the time Gaius was able to catch up and calm them down the pair had been on a wild ride all over Trista, including jumping the river like professional show jumpers and somehow managing to survive.

Ever since, Gaius had started their lessons with a short meditation exercise so both of them were as calm as possible before they even got near the horses. It had helped, sort of, and Paula at least was doing well under Gaius' tutelage. Evander on the other hand hadn't made much progress. He had a hard time getting the horse to do anything he wanted it to and was yet to manage even a short circuit of the sports field without his horse wandering off or stopping dead and refusing to budge. Evander had finally had enough tonight when Paula had completed her third lap while Evander was yet to finish his first.

"Ugh! How are you so good at this!?" he demanded. Paula reined her horse in and looked back in Evander in askance.

"I'm just following instructions; this is actually kind of fun!"

"Yeah, well I follow instructions too, but this horse hates me! Can we swap?"

"No Evander," said Gaius, riding over, "you need to establish a rapport with your horse if you're going to get anywhere. Swapping horses won't fix anything."

"I can't even make a rapport with a human," protested Evander, "how am I supposed to make friends with a horse!"

"In some ways it's easier than making friends with a human," said Gaius, "a horse will sense your good intentions well before any human would. You know what? Maybe we need to start you off caring for horses before you worry about riding them."

"Seriously? You think I can impress Laura by brushing a horse's coat or something? I need to do something badass like riding a horse out of a burning stable. Or dropping out of a tree straight onto a horse's back and riding off like nothing happened."

"Yeah, I think that might be a little too advanced for you," said Gaius, chuckling. "I don't think Laura would be too impressed by you getting kicked in the head by your horse, which is all that would happen if you tried any of that. Why don't you start off by feeding your horse some treats?"

"Ah, bribery! Now that I understand! Shadowflax! Show them the meaning of haste and you'll get an apple! Come on!" The horse gave him a look that almost screamed 'are you for real?' "No? It was worth a try. Apples suck anyway. Why don't we ride over to Brandon's General Good and just buy you a whole bag full of sugar instead?" Shadowflax's ears almost seemed to prick up at that and Evander laughed in surprise. "Hey! That almost worked!"

"See, what did I tell you?" said Gaius with a grin, "you're reaching a rapport already."

"I like that you're making progress and all," said Paula, "but please don't feed the horses a whole bag of sugar or Jusis will blame me when they get all sluggish and their teeth rot."

"Ha! He'd have some nerve doing that, seeing as I had to give him half my day's wages to cover all the candy he's been throwing around Trista. Sister Ornella said the children in Sunday School were so hyperactive that day they were almost climbing the walls!"

"Evander, do your weird adventures make any sense to you?" asked Gaius, "or are they just as baffling to you as they are to everyone else?"

"To be perfectly honest, I think they make even less sense to me," admitted Evander. "I swear, I don't know how I get into these messes."

"Try thinking about it a little harder," said Paula, rolling her eyes. "It'll come to you."

"You mean I shouldn't just do the first thing that comes into my head every time I have a problem?" asked Evander, "but that would involve having to think and plan and that's way too much effort. Things just work out for me this way; I dare anyone to disagree that's it's better." Shadowflax threw his head back and neighed loudly, as if he understood the conversation. "Hey! You don't count!"

Scene Break Here

Swimming lessons weren't going much better for Evander either, everything about water was offensive to his senses. It took him quite a while to even get used to being in the pool without immediately panicking and trying to get out. The sensation of the water was intense on his skin and when he tried to fully submerge himself, he found the deadening of his hearing, clogging of his nose and irritation to his eyes almost unbearable. His teacher, Caspar, mentioned that some people back in the coastal town he lived in actually preferred it that way, and there was such a thing as sensory deprivation therapy using those exact effects of water. Evander couldn't see how becoming blind and deaf was any sort of therapy, used to the barrage of information from his senses as he was, the thought of living without that constant input scared him. So the first few lessons barely covered any of the technical aspects of swimming and had more to do with having Evander just spending increasing amount of time floating in the pool until he was finally comfortable enough to pay attention to further instruction. Caspar tried to teach him the basics of the front crawl or free style stroke but Evander was having a hard time grasping it, his effects looking more like the flailings of a drowning cockroach.

"Did I get it right this time?" gasped Evander, after taking several minutes to barely travel a quarter of the pool's length.

"Um no. What you were doing was more a dog paddle," said Caspar, "but," he continued, trying to be encouraging, "that is technically a swimming style!"

"Dog paddle?" demanded Evander, "great, now I really am Elliot."

"What?"

"Sorry, inside joke," said Evander, before clawing his way to the side of the pool and hauling himself out. "Look, I'm sorry I'm so bad at this, I swear you're a good teacher, but it's just the moment I get in this water everything flies straight out of my head and I start to panic. And there's some sort of chemicals in this pool, they're wreaking havoc with my allergies." Sure enough, Evander's eyes were terribly bloodshot and he appeared to have come up in hives.

"We could try river swimming instead," said Caspar, "there are no chemicals in fresh water after all. I learned how to swim out in open water myself, I'm probably better at that than this."

"In the river!? With the fish? I hate fish!" complained Evander.

"To eat, or just in general?" inquired Caspar, not sure why he was humoring Evander's nonsense.

"Both! I think if I was swimming in the river and a fish so much as looked at me with those spooky cold eyes I'd just keel over and die. I'll take my chances with the chemicals, maybe I'll eventually develop an immunity. Do you have any advice for my next attempt?"

"Extend your arms out further," said Caspar, "like you're reaching for something in the water and pulling it back towards you. Right now you're just sort of slapping at the water and clawing at it. And if I were you I'd breath more often, tilting your head up to the side like I showed you. You don't need to breath after every stroke, but you barely seem to come up for air at all."

"I can hold my breath forever," boasted Evander.

"Yeah, I'm sure, but that's not the point. Just because you can hold your breath doesn't mean you should. Don't you pay attention in Instructor Beatrix's Health Science Class? Oxygen is imperative for most sustained forms of exercise. Otherwise you risk all sorts of acid buildup among other things."

"Is that what that pain is?" complained Evander, "all that acid and I can't even spit it out like a villain in Bat Boy. I've been ripped off. Alright, I'll have another go."

"That's the spirit!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be a spirit myself by the time I get a handle on this," groused Evander, but he slid back into the pool, ready to try again. "This is Monica's revenge for my joke about her not being able to swim ten rege isn't it? Why does learning things have to be so hard!"

"I'd say this will be a hell of a lot easier than our midterms," said Caspar, "sometimes I wake up in a cold sweat after having this nightmare I've turned up to an exam with my mind completely blank."

"Midterms this, midterms that! I don't even know what a midterm is," admitted Evander, "what's so scary about some silly exam?"

"Exams. Not one exam, but a whole week of exams on every subject we've covered over the last couple of months," explained Caspar. "And the results are posted publicly for the whole school to see afterwards. And it's not just individual students ranked either, but class averages. So if you do poorly you don't just embarrass yourself, but let your whole class down."

"Well crap," said Evander, "who do you think would kill me first? Jusis or Machias? Maybe even Emma would get angry. Great, now I'm going to have add studying to my list of things to cram into the space of a day."

"That Emma girl got the highest marks on the entrance exam didn't she?" asked Caspar, "couldn't you ask her for help?"

"No, she's already tutoring Fie and that's a full-time job. I'll have to suck it up and ask Machias for help. Anyway, I'll have another go at this front crawl thing," said Evander, but in spite of this, he just stood there treading water for a long moment, until Caspar finally asked what he was doing.

"Sorry," said Evander, "just weighing up the pros and cons of drowning myself before midterms. Joking!" he added quickly, "I don't need a therapist!"

"Do people often suggest you do?" asked Caspar mildly.

"Nah, just Laura really. There was this thing where I jumped out of a window right in front of her," Evander waved a hand dismissively, "I'll explain later. Anyway, onwards and upwards! He who hesitates is lost and all that!" Evander once again attempted the simplest of swimming strokes and Caspar was pleased to note a slight improvement. He looked less like a drowning cockroach now and more like one who was maybe going to pull through and live another day. Small victories, you had to take them where you could.

Scene Break Here

Evander had decided the best way to deal with Machias was to ambush him and keep him on the back foot so he couldn't work up a head of steam and get all pompous with him. So with that aim, he took the pen he'd borrowed from Machias and lay in wait invisibly outside the dorm. When Machias was returning from some no doubt tedious activity, Evander appeared behind him and threw the pen like a dart, striking Machias right between the shoulder blades.

"Ha! For shame Machias! That could have been a knife!" he hollered.

"What the hell!? You deranged menace!" snapped Machias, whirling around and glaring at Evander. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Returning your pen," said Evander, smiling innocently, "I swear it wasn't used to commit any felonies. Except that assault on you just now, but you won't press charges will you?"

"I'm thinking about it," said Machias, "now what do you want?"

"How do you know I want something?" asked Evander, genuinely curious.

"Because you always get weird when you want a favour," said Machias, "you're being weird now, hence you want a favour. Basic deduction."

"Could you tutor me for midterms?" asked Evander, "only on some subjects!" he added when Machias looked horrified, "I'm good with history and maths!"

"What brought this on?" asked Machias, "as far as I knew, you didn't give a rodent's rear end about midterms before this."

"That's before I knew what they were!"

"You didn't know what a midterm was!?" Machias nearly exploded.

"Never went to school remember. I've taken exactly one exam in my whole life, the one to enter this school. And they gave me special consideration for that one. But now that I know what I'm dealing with I don't want to let everyone else down. Please help me."

"You're serious? This isn't part of some silly scheme is it?"

"No, I swear. I want to do well on the midterms. And just think, if I do better than Fie that makes you a better teacher than Emma. You'll finally have beaten her at something!"

"Hmm, that thought is certainly is worth pursuing," said Machias, "if only to shut up Jusis with his sneering about me being number two in the academic rankings. Alright, I'll help you study. But this won't be some laughing matter. It'll be deadly serious. If you hold me back in any way I'll cut you loose. Are we clear?"

"Yes sir!" said Evander brightly, "I'm going to kill these midterms with your help!"

"Oh Aidios," Machias massaged his temples, "I'd forgotten your ridiculous enthusiasm. I hope I don't regret this."

"You won't! Now just to be clear, when thing on the paper is Name, that's my name right? Not a cryptic question?"

"I already regret this," groaned Machias.