I Wish You Were Never Reborn

Tyvan secured Shay’s safety belt into its buckle. The click elicited a surprised squeak from her as she pulled back and away-- as far as her secured safety belt allowed.

The young lady was far too easily startled. However... being quick to panic and flee was a viable survival strategy. He respected it.

Just as Tyvan shifted the gearbox into drive, Shay quietly mumbled something resembling an apology.

Her scent matched her misery. But what was she apologizing for?

...Was it for the embrace? No. That was very nice.

For neglecting to affix her safety belt on her own, then?

“Your safety is paramount,” he assured her.

“I mean... for picking me up. I know I was kinda far.”

Ah, of course. Tyvan quietly cursed himself for his short-sightedness. If he’d examined the situation in its full scope, he’d have been more understanding.

“‘Tis no trouble, considering,” he said. “Never hesitate in requesting simple favours such as this.”

The young lady sighed, smiling softly. She was safe. She should have been relaxed. From her scent... she wasn’t quite that.

Approximately four minutes passed in quietude.

Tyvan usually appreciated silence, particularly if that silence was shared in good company. Shay had proven to be such on several occasions.

Yet... the mood in the vehicle felt too sombre.

“I... don’t wish to force the matter,” he said, “but did you have something you hoped to share?”

In particular, he was quite interested in the contents of her brown paper bag and its tantalising scent.

“Tyvan.”

She said his name-- and without further exposition.

Did she... forget what she was going to say? She stared out the car window, taking in the passing scenery.

And while the passing scenery was gorgeous and nigh-breathtaking... the ominous naming followed by nothing bid him to seek clarification.

“Continue-- if you would.”

The young lady turned back to him. A thoughtful gaze. Curious yet concerned.

“Tyvan... what-- Hah... What eats... blood?”

Hm. Peculiar question. And the timing of it was more peculiar, still.

“All carnivorous predators consume blood. Humans, especially.” He pursed his lips, hesitating for a moment. “Would you like to eat... a meal with blood as a focal ingredient?”

“Ew.” Shay winced. “No. I don’t.”

That was a shame.

Tyvan had three particular blood dishes in mind. One was Chinese-- using pigs’ blood as a tofu-esque block in a vegetable-filled soup. Then, blood sausage was a classic side dish-- a lovely pairing to a hearty breakfast (in addition to and not a replacement for several strips of thick-cut, cured, maple bacon.) And there was an odd Filipino dish that... Hm. That one tasted better than it looked.

Shay turned back to look at him, her eyes earnest.

“Are there vampires in Archangel?”

“Yes. But worry not. They generally keep to themselves and their... dark and gloomy dwellings.”

Tyvan’s answer was one given without much thought. It was safe, overly generalized, and largely ignored any and all nuance.

The local vampires lived in caves and castles a touch more modern than those in his previous world. However, the creatures themselves were much the same, eschewing bright light and hiding themselves out of fear of violent human persecution.

However, the vampires of Archangel had significant... presence.

Their influences were omnipresent on the surface and in the shadows, in laws written and laws scrawled in blood. However... it was a sin of their society for their existence to be acknowledged by the humans they preyed upon.

Therefore, as a human, Shay had naught to worry from vampires. And further, as a member of ❴The Kingdom❵, no reasonable vampire would dare offend her.

Granted, it was inevitable that Shay deal with agents of ❴Eminence❵. But most likely, she’d be dealing with a servant, subordinate, or otherwise human representative. As long as she wasn’t facing a vampire directly, she had no reason to fear their claws, fangs, or blood magics.

“Tyvan,” Shay said. “What are... their weaknesses?”

Tyvan narrowed his eyes, “Withered stomachs. All vampires, to my knowledge, are unable to eat regular food.”

Shay gave a wry, unamused smile. “I mean... what are they scared of?”

Hm. That question was potentially more complex. However, Tyvan still had a simple answer.

“Me.”

The young lady snickered in response. Tyvan did not know why; he was being rather serious. But, as the mood had lifted, he chose not to raise questions.

“I believe much of vampire knowledges are accessible by the public,” he said. “If you’re curious, why don’t you do some research?”

Shay pouted, furrowing her brows. “But isn’t that stuff just myths and legends?”

“Myths are derived from facts,” Tyvan explained, “and perhaps you might discover something even they don’t know.”

He thought for a moment before adding, “In a week or so, I’ll introduce you to a vampire aligned with ❴The Kingdom❵.”

--or perhaps two weeks would be more appropriate? With that timing, he hoped that Scarlet wouldn’t see his newest employee’s innocuous inquiries as him asking for a favour.

“That... that sounds good,” Shay said.

She brushed his sleeve with her hand. The touch came as a surprise-- and was not wholly unwelcome. He could always assume that she meant well.

“Did you just come from a mission?” she asked.

“I did.”

“You must be hungry.”

“...Am I so easy to predict?”

A sly, mischievous grin formed on Shay’s face. How interesting.

“You wanna do something special?” she asked.

“I would love to. What do you propose?”

Her expression blanked. Did he say something wrong? Her heart rate had increased to a noticeable degree. Ah, but she was frantically wiggling her fingers. Hopefully, that was a good sign.

She reached into her brown paper bag... and she revealed...

A garlic bulb?

White... with thin, purple stripes? It was a rather gorgeous specimen. And it was fresh, discerned by its lack a strong, garlicky scent.

“Nuri,” she said... “My friend-- she said that this is a... Creole garlic?”

She looked up, her expression uncertain. “I don’t know what’s so special about garlic grown in the southern states, though?”

“It’s an older name,” Tyvan smiled. “It’s for a garlic group cultivated in Spain and France. It’s rare-- why, I don’t know... but I read that Creole garlic is so lovely that it can be eaten raw.”

“Ewh,” Shay frowned. “Really? But isn’t garlic spicy?”

“This one isn’t as much-- shall we split a clove when we get home? Ah-- and we must try it in a dish. That is to share, yes? Shay?”

Shay couldn’t sit still for the rest of the drive back to Elysium. She kept bouncing her knees and she was smiling so much that her cheeks started to ache. She pressed her fingers to just under her cheekbones and rolled them around a bit.

Parking lot. As soon as she unbuckled herself and got out of the passenger seat, Tyvan picked her up. He carried her in his arms, bounding across the lot and across the walkways.

“⌈Doma⌋, the door, if you would,” he said.

Was that a magical incantation? The door to his apartment swung open on its own.

Tyvan took her through and put her down... like... they were newlyweds.

Shay stood and stared, going into full daydream mode. Her back and her legs-- the places where Tyvan touched her still felt tingly and warm.

Suddenly, Tyvan clapped his hands together, snapping her out of her daze.

“What shall we cook?”

Shay blinked a few times-- “I uh... I bought some groceries yesterday. I’ll... go get them now.”

“Ah. Of course. Knock when you return.”

Right.

Shay nodded.

She left.

She practically skipped, heading to Heidi’s. Heidi let her in. Explanation-ating occurred-- though probably not entirely discom-bobulable? Was that the right word for it? Shay probably made no sense.

(Also, how was it not even 9 PM? Shay thought it was at least past 11 with so much that had happened!)

The ingredients in Heidi’s mini-fridge, they bought together... and were supposed to be for practice. But practice could not occur! The time was right! (Ripe?) The iron was hot! Shay had to stRiKe.

“I can’t waste the perfect-ism of Tyvan sPecifically requesting that he eat me!”

That was what she aCciDentally said aloud-- to Heidi... as some sort of horrible, nonsensical explanation.

“M... mayhaps you might ask Mister Valorum to cook,” Heidi suggested. “He’s a very accomplished home chef.”

“This chance might never come again!” Shay cried.

“If... if you truly feel that way,” Heidi sighed, “I must implore thee to be careful.”

Shay knew Heidi would understand. After giving her a quick hug, Shay ran off, back to Tyvan’s apartment.

He answered the door, wearing a dark-green cooking apron. It had a cartoon image of a snake and a caption below it that said ‘Deliciousssss.’

It was so cute.

Oh, right. Food!

“Leave the cooking to me!” Shay exclaimed. “Where’s the kitchen!?”

Just as she said that, she looked past him and spotted the open kitchen, right behind a counter.

“I’m gonna use the kitchen!” she exCLaiMed.

“... Yes,” Tyvan said. “Feel free.”

Shay got to the kitchen. She was planning to make a homemade spaghetti! With a homemade sauce! In Tyvan’s home!

Easy! It was so easy!

It was the first time in her life making it, but how hard could it be?!