The Homunculus Knight

Chapter 18: Paths Backward

“Sunlight, Silver and Sanctity. Any one of those will destroy a Vampire. There are other methods but they aren’t as reliable. Fire is a favorite but that can be double-edged real easy. Garlic, or more accurately sulfur won’t kill them but will make them hurt. Of course raw destructive force can also do the trick. Drop a building on the Leech and burn the rubble. Works most of the time.” - Philip Hardspade, Archeologist and unofficial Rest-Bringer.

Upon waking up, the first thing Cole felt was something warm and soft touching him, which was a major improvement over the pain and cold he’d felt before sleeping. Blinking away the last bits of sleep, Cole tried to get his bearings. He was still lying on cold hard ground, but a blanket of some kind covered him. Also, someone was asleep and nestled to his chest. Shifting the blanket slightly to see who or what was with him. Cole looked down at the sleeping form of Natalie.

Momentary confusion, replaced by surprise, then eventually, embarrassment flashed through Cole's mind. Even dirted by travel and ash, Natalie was beautiful and very, very close to him. It had been a decade since Cole was this close to another person, platonically or otherwise. And the lovely heart-shaped face of Natalie keenly reminding him of that fact. Cole tried to edge away from his surprise sleeping companion, feeling a rising sense of nervousness and mild panic. An effort that only resulted in Natalie moving closer, her sleeping mind not taking kindly to her heat source moving away.

After a few seconds of hesitation, Cole decided to rip the arrow out quickly, partially because he needed to check his own wounds. Freeing himself from the blanket, which he quickly realized was Natalie’s cloak, Cole got up slowly, trying to ensure Natalie did not awaken. He was on his knees and almost free when her eyes shot open. For an incredibly awkward moment, they just looked at each other. Cole’s still stunned expression met Natalie’s sleepy one. The moment broke as Natalie’s eyes widened in dawning horror. Her voice raspy with sleep, Natalie muttered a single word.

“Jag”

The multipurpose curse word encapsulated Natalie’s feelings perfectly. Pulling herself to a sitting position, Natalie started to sputter out an explanation, her face flushing red.

“You were freezing and needed the cloak, but it was too cold for me without it. I just thought it was a good idea. It just seemed practical. I didn’t mean to overstep or-”

Natalie trailed off as she noticed she wasn’t the only one blushing. Cole was looking away from her and fidgeting slightly, with definite color to his cheeks, which she was certain was not caused by the cold. Cole didn’t respond, and the silence quickly turned awkward. Attempting to salvage the situation, Natalie coughed slightly and said,“Well… um… you sure are in better shape than you were yesterday. Considering you’re up and about.”

Cole quickly took the offered topic and glanced over his bandaged body as he spoke. “Yes, the Silverub did its job. I should be good to continue traveling. Is your leg any better?”

Natalie got to her feet and tested her weight on the bruised ankle. After a few experimental steps, she winced but had her answer. “I’ll be moving slowly, but I can walk.”

Seeing her discomfort, Cole looked around and found the piece of wood Natalie used previously as a crutch. He handed it to Natalie, she accepted with a grateful nod and hobbled over to the smoking remnant of their campfire. Only a few stubborn coals remained, giving off some wisps of smoke but little heat. As Natalie checked the fire, Cole rummaged through his pack and pulled out a bundle of cloth. For a moment, Natalie thought it was a blanket and that she was about to die of embarrassment. If Cole had a blanket the entire time and she just didn’t check his pack, oh, she’d never live that down mentally. Thankfully, Cole unfolded the cloth, revealing a worn-looking shirt. After taking a moment to shrug out of the burnt scraps of clothes still clinging to him, Cole put the shirt on and with it his hourglass medallion.

Watching this, Natalie asked curiously. “Why didn’t you say anything about having spare clothes last night? It couldn’t have been comfortable to sleep in those tatters. “ she gestured at the barely intact strips of cloth and leather Cole had just doffed.

Grimacing slightly, an expression his scars made easy, Cole explained. “I lost a lot of blood and took a… uncomfortable number of blows to the head. Making it here and not simply passing out in Lungu took pretty much everything I had.”

Natalie nodded to that and left the large alcove they camped in. Shielding her eyes from the morning Sun. Natalie scanned the horizon until she saw what she’d been looking for. “Speaking of Lungu, do you think that fire will get out of control?” As she spoke, Natalie pointed to the pillar of smoke in the distance.

Cole saw what she was pointing at and hesitated. “It… should be okay. I didn’t expect my use of fire magic to get so out of control.”

His words sparked a thought in Natalie. She quickly found her pack and the spark-stone. Picking up the smooth black oval, she returned it to Cole and said: “This worked perfectly to start the fire.”

Cole felt the palm-sized rock’s weight for a moment before answering. “It's what it was designed for. I’m thankful my unusual use didn’t damage it.”

Snorting at Cole’s understatement, Natalie said. “Unusual use? You managed to burn down an entire village with that little thing.”

A little sheepishly, Cole half-muttered. “While I expected to use the stone in cremating bodies. I’ll be the first to admit, its effectiveness, when combined with Blood Magic, proved exceptional.”

Raising an eyebrow, Natalie got a concrete answer to what type of magic Cole used. She’d had some theories but lacked any real knowledge about magic to really guess. Since he’d broached the subject, Natalie figured it would be okay to ask a question or two.

“So what you use is Blood Magic? Isn’t that dark magic? Like as bad as Necromancy, Flesh-Crafting, and Mind Warping?”

Shrugging slightly, Cole sat down next to the near-dead campfire and grabbed his nearby pack before answering. “Kind of. If you’re using someone else's blood, then sure, it's dark magic. But I use my own, so the morality is not nearly as questionable.”

Natalie grabbed her own pack and sat across from him. They both started to fish through their bags, gathering some food to start their days. Thankfully Natalie’s burst water skin hadn’t ruined her rations. The dried meat and bread had been packed well. The two of them started to eat in silence until Natalie asked another question. One that she’d been debating for a while.

“Is that where your scars came from? Using blood magic on yourself?” Breaching this subject felt like a bit of a gamble, but Natalie decided it was worth the dice roll.

Cole froze mid-bite into a rather withered-looking apple and looked at Natalie. He set the apple down and hesitantly showed Natalie the underside of his forearm. A network of silvery marks covered his arms and fingers. They were incredibly light, barely visible if Natalie focused. They were old scars, the type that had decades to heal properly, not the semi-disfiguring burns and gashes covering most of Cole.

“These are my scars from Blood Magic,” he remarked before pointing at the scabbed-over wounds on his hands, the places where he’d cut himself to cast spells the day before. “A big part of using Blood Magic is conserving blood. Every spilled drop weakens me, so ensuring no waste is important. It's powerful stuff, Blood Magic, and most Blood Mages just pour all that power into their spells. At best, I’m… a mediocre Mage, and directing all that power is beyond my skill. So instead, I channel the extra power back into me. It's tricky, but I can use the excess magic to help heal quicker. It won’t save my life, but it will make sure a small cut heals fast and neatly.”

With that explanation, Cole went back to his apple. Natalie noted to herself that he’d only partially answered her question. Cole had evaded mentioning where he got most of his scars, and she doubted it was his habit to meander between topics was why. After that, they ate in silence. Eventually finishing their makeshift breakfast, they prepared to leave, Cole gathered up some of his protective dust from the line Natalie made. Not much, but enough to get the pouch halfway full. Natalie collected a few things scattered around the campsite and they headed out..

The weather was fairer than the previous day. The wind died down and faint autumn sunlight poked through the clouds. Natalie was intensely thankful for this because trying to keep her balance in harsh winds with a bruised ankle did not seem possible. In fact, not having that bitter gale to chill and slow them, the duo made better time than they’d expected. It had been mid-morning when they left the campsite, and by noon they’d gotten into the mountain’s shadow, where rolling hills turned into forests around the base of the mountains.

Natalie hadn’t the opportunity on the first leg of their journey to admire the colorful leaves of the forest. She took the time now as they approached the orange, yellow and red canopy that stretched off and up the side of the mountain. Higher up, they were replaced by boney trees devoid of foliage that crowned all but the most jagged peaks. The Dragontails are old and well worn, lacking the rugged peaks of some of their cousin ranges. Still, many showed adamant cliff-faces, and time-worn ridges that stood as a testament to the mountains forbidding nature.

Gazing up at the landscape, Natalie felt a smile cross her lips. The wilderness of the Blood Duchies might be a monster-infested waste, but it was still beautiful. It seemed tragic that her people never really stopped to admire the proud mountains that surrounded them. The idea that she would leave this part of the world brought some urgency to Natalie’s admiration. It was best to let the good of her homeland soak in while she could. So Cole and Natalie walked in silence together, both lost in their thoughts.

The little bit of calm reverie Natalie had managed to get was quickly broken as her eyes caught a blemish marring a distant mountain. It was barely visible, little more than a squat black smear clinging to the side of a peak. But Natalie could still identify Castle Glockmire. Grinding her teeth, Natalie realized she’d stopped in her tracks, and Cole was up the trail a bit waiting for her. Hobbling up to where he waited, Natalie decided to try and get some more questions answered.

“Can you explain to me more about binding Undead? You made it sound like doing so was costly to the Feeder. Why is that?”

Cole looked up at the sky, figuring out the best way to explain concepts he barely understood. “I’m no Necromancer, and my magical talent is…questionable at best.” a statement Natalie found a little ridiculous since she’d seen him cloak himself in fire and punch a Charnel pit to death. “So my ability to grasp exactly what’s involved is shaky. I honestly know just enough to make problems for Necromancers. But from how I understand it, creating Undead is not the major challenge in Necromancy. Keeping them controlled is the problem.”

“It’s actually what kills a lot of beginners.” continued Cole. “I’ve dealt with dozens of situations where some fool tries to create a Ghoul servant and only manages to get themselves eaten; leaving a town with a possible plague of Ghouls or similar dangers. But even if a Necromancer gets it right. Keeping Undead controlled is taxing, and the more powerful the Undead, the more taxing it gets. So having at least five dangerous Undead on a tight leash for any extended period would not be easy. Not something done without a major reason.”

Natalie nodded; she understood so far. But some of what Cole said clashed with stories she’d heard about Necromancy. “That makes sense, but how do the Duke’s armies work? Drakovich and his vassals command entire armies of Undead soldiers. Shouldn’t that keep all their magical power tied up?”

It was well known across the Western Continent why the Blood Duchies survived despite being surrounded by hostile powers on all sides. Legions of armored skeletons marched at the Duke’s order. Entire armies that didn’t need to sleep, eat or drink. Armies that could recruit from the enemy's dead, and would never disobey orders.

“The Duke’s ‘eternal legions,’ as he calls them, are very different from other more volatile Undead,” remarked Cole, his words touched with venom. The mass desecration of corpses required to create those armies disgusted him. “The magic used to create them ensures they will not act unless directed. There is no actual drive to them, be it instinct or will. Only complicated magic and their General’s focus make them more than idle puppets. Vryko-Ghouls, by contrast, are driven by incredible hunger. To keep one from hunting aggressively would take near-constant focus. It's one thing to direct that hunger for a time, which is what Necromancers often do with powerful Undead. It’s something else to completely control them, keeping them as some kind of hidden weapon.”

Pondering this, Natalie continued a line of thought she’d had days ago. “So getting the Walking Charnel to attack Filip’s sister would be much easier than keeping it hidden in that well?”

“Exactly,” said Cole. “There are ways to get around it, but they require complicated and tricky rituals. I knew a situation where a very nasty Ghost was kept under the control of a madwoman in possession of the spirits remains by….”

Cole trailed off, rethinking if the details of that particular incident should be shared with anyone. When he’d explained what he’d discovered to the haunted city's Mayor, she’d vomited all over the floor, and two of her attendants had fainted. Shaking the images from his head, Cole found Natalie staring at him and something about the moment stopped his thoughts. Her head was cocked slightly, and a curious expression on her face. Despite, or perhaps inspite of that, Natalie looked strikingly beautiful.

She was so overflowing with life, passion, and, strangely, trust. While he’d angst fiercely over endangering her with knowledge or his presence. Natalie had been shockingly open with him after that painful night she’d found him lying against the town gate. The young woman jumped headfirst into matters she should have avoided. Largely, it seemed, because it felt like the right thing to do. Natalie stayed by his side even after his attempts to push her away and her own encounters with nightmarish things. While Cole started to happily explain the world he lived in, he’d not actually opened up in any true way. Bombarding her with information, much of it horrible or extraneous, instead of responding to her interest in him. An interest that he still didn’t fully understand. Cole was fairly certain it was more than Natalie wanting something from him, but more than that, he could only guess.

So out of a mixture of guilt and hope, Cole answered her curious gaze with some frank honesty. “I’ve been immersed in a world of horror for a long time, Natalie, and sometimes I forget that it's not normal to see the things I have. So when I try to talk openly, I either horrify or endanger them. I’ve done both with you, but you’ve continued to accompany me and proved to be a good friend and ally. Something I have not had in a long time, and I’ve practically forgotten how to reciprocate such things.”

Taking a deep anxious breath, something that almost looked comical on his huge frame. Cole let down a bit of the defense he’d built up after the tragedy that started his path. “We are away from town and by ourselves. Details of Necromancy can wait. If you have any questions about me, I will answer if I can.”

Natalie had never been hunting, something odd for someone in Glockmire. So she had no context for the saying “frozen like a stuck Deer” except for hearing it. But at that moment, she guessed her expression matched that of any Doe caught in a trap. This was not at all where she expected this conversation to go. Cole’s sudden frankness had come out of nowhere and blindsided her. Had he regretted his earlier evasion? Was he serious in his offer?

It took one look at the slightly nervous-looking Paladin for her to realize Cole was indeed serious. This man had faced down Gods knows how many nightmares. And was still happy to leap into terrible danger. But the idea of letting her know him a bit better had Cole downright unnerved. Natalie had a million questions, her curiosity having grown insatiable since that first night they met. But the first question to exit her mouth surprised Natalie. It wasn’t what she’d meant to ask, and it just fell out somewhat unbidden.

“Who is Isabelle?”

Cole looked like he’d been struck. His face agape with shock. Cole’s expression cycled through anger, surprise, worry, confusion, and finally settling on cautious intensity.

“Where did you hear that name Natalie?” he asked in a disturbingly monotone voice. Uncharacteristic for the soft-spoken man. His body language and voice were the same as when Natalie asked about the Vampire skull he kept. A fact Natalie noticed and took as enough answer to her question.

“You said it in your sleep, you scaredy-cat. And I’m curious as to who she is,” responded Natalie, her voice dripping with snark. An act of bravado, partially for Natalie’s own comfort and to prove that Cole hadn’t scared her off with his moment of intensity.

Visibly relaxing, Cole slumped a little bit as he digested her words. A hint of shame in his posture. “I…am sorry. She is a tender spot for me, and years of worry related to her have made me jumpy.”

Natalie just snorted at that. Cole was usually so polite, if a bit evasive. So whatever was involved with this, Isabelle must have left a very much open emotional wound in Cole. Natalie swore she could see the internal conflict in Cole’s eyes. His desire to keep this particular secret at war with his attempts to reciprocate Natalie’s trust. After a few moments, Cole glanced back at the waiting Woman and grunted slightly. The sound of a man setting aside a burden so old it had become familiar.

“Isabelle is the woman I love and the reason I became a Paladin. I lost her to a monster and tried to buy her back through service to Master Time. While I’ve found more reasons to continue this path, it still traces back to simply wanting her back. “

A flash of shame crossed Cole’s face as he mused on his choices. “I’ve devoted myself to helping people find closure. Hunting Undead and helping the grieving when I can. So how much of a hypocrite must I be to refuse to let go of my own tragedy?”

The grief and shame in Cole’s voice shocked Natalie. They stood perhaps two or so meters apart, and Natalie couldn’t decide if she wanted to step back from Cole in surprise or step forward to offer him a comforting hand. Ultimately she did neither and instead asked her next question, even though she already knew the answer.

“The skull, it's Isabelle’s, right? She was a Vampire, and you still loved her?” Natalie was confused. This revelation did not line up with the sheer hatred she’d seen in Cole when it came to Vampires. But as she considered it, Natalie started to understand. The most powerful hate can only be born from love. That kind of betrayal or loss could make a person hate like nothing else.

Nodding in affirmation. Cole reached towards his pack and touched the skull hidden inside. “She was betrayed and destroyed by other Vampires. Their monsters Natalie, all Vampires are monsters. Isabelle is just one of the few who tried not to be.”

‘Is?’ Cole referred to Isabelle as the woman he loves, not loved. Natalie felt a familiar chill go up her spine as she followed her intuition and blurted out: “She’s still alive, isn’t she? Isabelle is still attached to her skull. That's why you’re so protective of it?!”

A hint of a smile quirked Cole’s face as he said. “You’re a very clever person Natalie. It's one of the things I admire about you. You’re right. But perhaps ‘still alive’ is a bit too generous. Isabelle is dead like all Vampires, but not as dead as she should be. They burned her to death, Natalie, no Vampire can survive that, yet a bit of her still clings to her remains. So I am left with a forlorn hope. If something is not totally dead, then are they not yet a bit alive?”

That last sentence held an almost pleading air in Cole’s voice. It was the sound of a grieving man still bargaining for his lover's life. Natalie recognized it well; she’d heard that tone often in the days after the breach three years ago. As often as she talked, Natalie chose to stay silent then and let Cole fill the air with his pain.

“I know I’m a hypocrite and deluding myself. Death is part of life, it needs to happen, and Vampires can only cheat for so long. Isabelle had her life and centuries more that she stole. If I was a better man, I’d have buried that skull and said goodbye. But I just can’t bear to do it. The idea scares me more than anything.”

His words trailed off, and Cole stood, their sadness and shame pouring off him like rainwater. Natalie still didn’t understand everything, and she decided not to push any further. Opening up to her like this seemed to have taken more from Cole than she’d expected. The stalwart man who’d fought monsters and won seemed absent. In his place was a shell of grief and pain. A pain that seemed deeper than even the loss of a loved one could provoke.

The loose shirt Cole wore exposed his neck far more than any other clothes Natalie had seen him in, and the collar of scars around his neck was clearly visible. A flash of realization punched into Natalies’s mind as pieces fell into place. Cole hadn’t just been Isabelle’s lover; he’d been her thrall. The Vampire's favorite food source. Natalie felt suddenly sick as she understood more and more. A Vampire’s venom was addictive and could distort a person's mind. Judging by the sheer number of marks on Cole’s neck, he’d been dosed with Gods only know how much of the stuff.

Seeing the pain in him and beginning to understand his story, Natalie made a decision. Despite his past and whatever demons haunted him, Cole had still decided to help her and her town. He was a good man and one who would gladly bleed to do the right thing. Cole helped her break free of the trap she’d been born into; helping her realizing the terrible truths of Glockmire and her life. So she’d just have to return the favor.

Stepping lightly toward him, Natalie wrapped her arms around Cole. Hugging the tall man close, Natalie tried to impart all the care and kindness she could. Her face nestled towards his chest, Natalie whispered a few simple words. “You’re a mortal like the rest of us, Cole. You can make mistakes and have flaws. It’s okay and doesn’t change the fact you’re a good person.”

Cole said nothing, uncertain of the accuracy of her words but still willing to accept them. After a moment, he gently returned the hug, and they held each other for a moment. Before a pained grunt from Cole made Natalie step back. He was still badly bruised, and being squeezed in an embrace had hurt.

An awkward silence hung in the air between the two for a moment before Cole said. “You continue to amaze me, Natalie; I’m glad I met you. Thank you for your kind words. I cannot continue to stew in my pain. I may have started this path in a twisted place, but that doesn’t mean I have to let it be a twisted path.”

He put a large hand on Natalie’s shoulder and lightly squeezed before turning to walk towards Glockmire. Natalie watched him for a second, seeing that the stalwart Paladin had returned and the husk of pain had been banished. A faint smile crossed Natalie’s face, and she started to follow after Cole. He’d saved her, she would save him, and maybe in the process, they’d save her Hometown.