Codename Vestia

Chapter 28:

Gamal asked,
“Is she Alex’s wife?”

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

Yeonha paused, and silence descended upon the room for a moment. Gamal, unable to grasp the awkward atmosphere, grew puzzled. Yeonha soon responded with a cool smile.

“For now, the first.”

Ivan let out a small sigh.
“Yeonha is the only one.”

Doyeong couldn’t help but chime in.
“He’s like an ancient relic with barely any modern common sense. Lieutenant Kang, just let it slide.”

Gamal, bewildered, turned to Doyeong.
“What is?”

“In modern times, asking that kind of question is considered rude,” Doyeong explained, exasperated.

Gamal wore a face of indignation.
“I know that much. But Alex is…”

At that moment, Ivan raised his hand and spoke.
“Rather than standing around, why don’t we sit?”

As the eldest at the table, his suggestion prompted everyone to take their seats without argument. Technically, Gamal was the oldest by age, but even if he had insisted on it, no one would have acknowledged it.

“This might take a while,” Ivan said.

He began his story.
“It was about two thousand years ago, not long after I became infected. I happened to cross paths with Gamal.”

* * *

Ivan was walking through a forest path—or, more precisely, forging his way through the forest.

The woods were dark and somber. No human would venture this far into such a desolate place.

This dense and disorienting forest was a space that evoked terror. But Ivan pressed deeper into its heart. By that point in his existence, there was nothing left in the world that could frighten him, though he might very well become the source of fear for others.

He glanced behind him.

“Sorry, but I can hear you.”

For two days, he had sensed a presence trailing him. Lacking any killing intent, the figure seemed content merely to observe, so Ivan had ignored it. Yet, the persistence was impressive.

Rustle.

The sound came as the bushes shifted slightly, revealing a slender figure stepping forward.

Piercing red eyes, filled with suspicion, moved slowly, leaving an afterimage in the air. She looked no older than eighteen at most—a young girl.

Yet even Ivan, who had witnessed countless extraordinary things, found her astonishing. Though she wore rags like a fugitive outlaw, her beauty alone exuded an otherworldly, inhuman quality.

“I didn’t realize this place had an owner,” Ivan said in Latin, the most widely understood language of the time.

The girl, her gaze filled with wariness, looked Ivan up and down before speaking.
“Are you… ‘different,’ too?”

Her speech was peculiar. She seemed to have learned Latin later in life. Still, Ivan grasped her meaning and replied.
“You don’t seem human either.”

At the time, there was no established term for vampires. In truth, neither Ivan nor Gamal fully understood what they were—only that they were “different.”

Gamal asked, her tone curious.
“Then why don’t you attack?”

Ivan glanced around as though checking if he had missed something.
“Is there a reason I should, just because we crossed paths?”

“Most of the ‘different ones’ are ferocious,” she replied.

“They seem to have a possessiveness about their territory. But as you can see, I’m just wandering,” Ivan explained.

Despite this, Gamal remained wary. Ivan, sensing her unwillingness to accept him, turned to leave.

“Pardon the intrusion,” he said.

After a few steps, Gamal called out.
“Wait.”

Though they didn’t know each other, both Ivan and Gamal had gone a long time without conversing with anyone.

Gamal had been living alone in the forest for about five years after fleeing her hidden village when it was discovered by Kunis. Ivan, infected and uncertain of what he had become, had wandered aimlessly, never staying in one place.

Gamal had been observing Ivan ever since he entered the forest. Initially, she suspected he might have been sent by Kunis.

But Ivan was always alone. He might have been feigning it, but Gamal had known the moment she saw him—he was not someone Kunis could command.

Though his appearance was simple, like that of a humble traveler, he exuded a regal aura, as if armor would suit him far better. His dignified bearing was beyond the reach of anyone’s control.

Gamal said,
“Have a meal before you go.”

* * *

To Ivan’s surprise, the food Gamal offered was human cuisine.

It was simple—flatbread baked without yeast and a stew made with rabbit meat—but it was decent. Ivan, who had spent a long time on military campaigns, had eaten better rations in wartime, but he no longer had the inclination to complain about food.

Although Ivan intended to leave after lunch, the forest quickly grew dark. While their nature as vampires meant navigating the darkness posed little issue, wandering through a damp, shadowy forest at night wasn’t particularly appealing unless it involved hunting.

Perhaps due to remnants of human memory, Ivan still preferred the warmth of a crackling fire and a comfortable place to rest. Since Gamal didn’t insist on his departure, Ivan decided to stay the night.

“When did you change?” Ivan asked, sitting by the fire.

“A long time ago.”

Gamal answered curtly, sizing Ivan up.

“You’re young.”

At the time, Ivan was not yet 350 years old, and his eyes hadn’t turned red.

Ivan chuckled.
“It’s been ages since anyone called me young.”

Although he had grown accustomed to his unchanging age, hearing it from Gamal, whose appearance suggested she was no older than eighteen, felt somewhat absurd.

“Your eyes will turn red soon,” Gamal remarked nonchalantly. Ivan looked at her, noticing her vivid red eyes, as if the fire’s embers had been reflected in them.

“Now that you mention it, how did your eyes turn like that?”

“One day, I woke up, and they had changed. Live long enough, and you’ll change. All the long-lived ‘different ones’ do.”

“Just what I needed—to stand out even more,” Ivan muttered, resigned.

He had collapsed with a fever after a victorious battle celebration, unconscious for four days. When he awoke, he had become something entirely different—something that could no longer be called human.

Forced out of the life he once considered natural, he found himself wandering the wilderness. Despite searching for answers about his transformation, he had found none and continued his aimless existence.

Ivan asked, “Is that why you live hidden away in this forest? Because of your eyes?”

Red eyes were unmistakable; no human could possess them. While albinism existed, even such rare traits attracted undue attention in those days.

But Gamal didn’t answer. At the time, she was still searching for a place where she could disappear forever. With her heart so closed off, she was nearly in a state of isolation akin to autism.

Ivan shrugged and didn’t press further. The crackling of the fire filled the silence.

Suddenly, Ivan covered his mouth, coughing. After a few coughs, he lowered his hand to find blood smeared across his palm. He wasn’t particularly surprised—it had been a long time since he had drunk blood.

“You haven’t had blood in a while?” Gamal asked, her tone tinged with surprise.

Ivan wiped the blood off his hand indifferently.
“If I go more than a fortnight without drinking, I start coughing it up.”

“It’s damaging your organs.”

“You seem to know a lot,” Ivan remarked, as though Gamal had experienced the same deprivation.

He stared at his bloodstained hand. Outside, empires rose and fell, rebuilding and collapsing in cycles, while he still hadn’t unraveled the mystery of what he had become.

Suddenly, Gamal handed him something.
“Eat this.”

Ivan frowned.
“A flower?”

What she held out was a red flower, the same color as her eyes.

He shook his head.
“Sorry, but eating raw flowers isn’t really my thing….”

But Gamal pressed the flower toward his mouth insistently.
“Eat it.”

Ivan was taken aback. No one had ever done something like this to him before. Unwilling to argue, he planned to tear the flower and add it to the boiling stew.

However, Gamal grabbed his arm firmly.
“If you burn it, it’s useless.”

“Useless for what?”

“It doesn’t quench your thirst, does it?”

Her eyes suddenly gleamed with an uncanny light, as though she could see right through to Ivan’s insatiable thirst.

“Nothing you do will ever take it away,” she continued. Then, just as abruptly, her expression returned to normal, and she withdrew to her spot by the fire.

“But eating this will help. Not completely. You’ll get hungry again soon. But it’ll help.”

Ivan stared at the flower, its color reminiscent of blood. While he had tried various experiments to find a substitute for blood, nothing had ever worked. Creatures like them, the “different ones,” were bound to drink blood to survive.

Trusting her for once, Ivan placed the flower in his mouth and chewed. A sweet, grassy flavor spread across his tongue. As someone who had preferred meat and alcohol over vegetables even when he was human, it wasn’t a taste he enjoyed. However, the more he chewed, the stranger the flavor became.

It was bitter like herbs yet sweet and fragrant, almost like blood.

Ivan glanced at the pouch of flowers by Gamal’s feet.
“I’ve never seen a plant like this before.”

“They don’t grow here. You have to climb high mountains,” she replied.

“Where did you find something like this?”

“On a mountain that touches the sky.”

Ivan furrowed his brow.
“Why did you go somewhere like that?”

“To escape,” she said in a tone so detached it sounded like someone who had long since stopped feeling anything.

“Escape from what?”

Gamal raised her eyes.

Crackle, crackle.

The fire contorted its body in a surreal dance. If they had known of the fairy tale they’d later hear, they might have thought the flames resembled Karen in her red shoes, dancing eternally.

“From bad dreams,” Gamal answered.

* * *

Before she came to the forest, Gamal fled to the mountains to escape Kunis.

The mountains were high and blanketed in snow. Having chosen the tallest peak she could find, she only learned much later that it was the Andes.

The perpetual snow’s cold was so fierce that even a vampire’s skin—usually indifferent to temperature—felt as if it was being burned. She discovered that extreme cold didn’t feel like freezing but rather like white flames clinging to her fingertips and toes.

Crunch.

Even the snow had frozen solid, breaking beneath her feet. As a dry, white flurry obscured her vision, an enormous feature revealed itself.

A crevasse.

It looked as though a giant had taken a crescent moon as a weapon and struck the earth, leaving a jagged wound.

Seeking any space that might be survivable, Gamal descended into the crevasse.

Exploring such an environment as a human would have been insanity. In fact, the only person who would dare to venture into such a place centuries later would be Dr. Mariette Blandus, who would discover the first flower in the Andes and develop the Flos plant.

But Gamal was merely searching for somewhere to survive. Then her keen sense of smell picked up a scent.

It wasn’t blood, yet it evoked the thought of blood. Driven by instinct, she followed it.

The deeper she went, the less snow and ice there was, revealing bare soil. It felt as though she were approaching the core of the earth, as if the “Lost World” might appear at any moment.

And then Gamal saw it—a field of red flowers stretching endlessly.

Had Gamal been familiar with Korean folklore, she might have thought she had found the Seocheon Flower Garden. The bizarre flowers, unlike anything she had ever seen, extended beyond her gaze.

Mesmerized, she approached the flowers. Plucking one, she examined it closely, confirming it was an unfamiliar species. Her years of wandering through forests and mountains had given her extensive knowledge of plants, and she could tell this was unique.

Then…

“Delicious smell…”

Unconsciously, driven by hunger, she bit into the flower.

The taste was peculiar. It was bitter, as plants often are, but also carried a strange sweetness. Chewing it further brought out a flavor reminiscent of blood.

Before she realized it, Gamal was devouring the flowers in a frenzy.

That was the moment Gamal discovered the “flowers.”

Though she stayed in that cavern for some time, even a vampire’s resilience couldn’t make it livable. The food supply was plentiful, but it was too cold, and she was completely alone. Not even animals were present. She felt as though she might lose her mind.

During the day, there was light, snow, and silence. At night, there was darkness, snow, and silence.

In the end, Gamal gathered as many flowers as she could carry and descended the mountain.

* * *

“Bad dreams?” Ivan asked.

Gamal stood up.
“Sleep.”

Then she walked away to another spot.

When Gamal had first seen Ivan, she thought he resembled Mars descending from his altar. Yet, there was no Mars to protect her. Only another victim.

She closed her eyes tightly.

“Leave.”

Suddenly, Gamal spoke.