Only a sip

Alfred climbed to his mother's side on all fours, tears welling up in his eyes. He looked up at Talos, with a mixture of confusion and anguish.  "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion.

"It was necessary. Your mother was already dead, no need to make her suffering any longer," Talos replied, his voice firm yet tinged with sadness.

He reloaded his weapon with practiced efficiency, his eyes never leaving Alfred. He noticed the deep gushing wound on Alfred's face.

"Where did you get that wound?" Talos inquired, concern evident in his eyes.

"From that thing. It scratched me," Alfred replied, his hand touching the wound gingerly.

Talos's expression shifted, as if contemplating something. He reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial containing a black substance - the angel blood.  "Maybe there is a way…" Talos said, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone.

He offered the vial to Alfred. "If a vampire bites you or scratches you, you will turn into one. But every headsman after his exam drinks this to gain power that matches the bloodsuckers and makes us immune."

Alfred's eyes widened in surprise and curiosity as he took the vial from Talos's outstretched hand.

"You are very lucky that I have some. It's very rare because we have only limited access to it." The angel blood, a potent elixir with the power to grant supernatural abilities, now lay in Alfred's hands.

"Only drink a sip of it, or you will probably die," Talos's gaze shifted around the dimly lit cabin, as if searching for something.

"Do you have a-?" he began to ask, but before he could finish, his eyes met with Alfred who already drunk the whole vial.

"Oopsie," Alfred muttered with a sheepish grin.

  *Ah, sh*t," Talos muttered under his breath.

As the elixir took effect, Alfred's vision blurred, and the room seemed to tilt around him. His body felt weightless, almost as if he were floating in a sea of stars.

The cabin's walls appeared to bend and twist, blending with the darkness of the night outside. Everything became a kaleidoscope of colors and shapes.

Talos rushed to Alfred's side as he collapsed to the floor, the vial slipping from his hand and clattering against the wooden surface. Concern etched lines on the headsman's face.  "Kid, do you have a-?" he asked.

But it was too late. Alfred had already succumbed to the elixir's power, slipping into a deep and dreamless slumber. The room was enveloped in an eerie silence, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl in the forest outside.

****

As the sun dipped its toe out, the forest and the little cabin were painted with a surreal beauty. The golden rays of the sun kissed the leaves, casting mesmerizing patterns on the ground. It was a moment of tranquility, a brief respite from the darkness that had befallen the cabin.

But beneath this picturesque scene, a mound of dirt lay, and the peaceful atmosphere was disrupted by the sound of dirt slinging across the space.

Each toss of the shovel sent another bunch of dirt flying, and the mound slowly grew larger.  Alfred, lying on the ground nearby, stirred as a clump of dirt hit his face.

He blinked, his once deep wound now fully healed, and confusion clouded his expression.  "What happened?" he asked, his voice still dazed from the effects of the angel blood.

Talos, emerging from the hole he had been digging, popped his head out. "I had to search for the shovel, but how are you alive? Only a small percentage of headsman cadets survive the angel blood assimilation."

"I'm strong?!" Alfred replied, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief.

"That's good to hear," Talos said, climbing out of the hole and tossing the shovel to Alfred. "You can finish it while I finally get some rest to heal fully."

He walked a few paces away, laying his tricorn hat down as a makeshift pillow,  Talos, without the headman's signature tricorn, had a presence that demanded attention. Hidden beneath that hat was a testament to his battles and struggles.

When he removed it, revealing his bald scalp, an intricate tapestry of scars came into view. Each scar told a story, a testament to the countless trials he had faced. The lines crisscrossed his head, creating a map of his past, etched into his skin.

He pulled out a pistol and knife. In a remarkably composed manner, he lay down holding one in each hand, as if like he was a corpse.

"I have so many questions," Alfred said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm sure you do, and you will get some answers in time," Talos replied, his eyes already closed, ready to drift off to sleep. "Now finish the work."

He instantly fell asleep like he was knocked out.  With that, Talos fell into a deep slumber, his body taking advantage of the momentary respite to heal from the wounds he had sustained during the battle with Belze.

Alfred looked at the shovel in his hands, then back at the grave that Talos had already started. It was a somber moment, the weight of the night's events settling upon him.

Taking a deep breath, Alfred climbed into the hole, his heart heavy with a mix of sorrow and determination. He sank the shovel deep into the ground, feeling the earth give way beneath its blade.

****

Talos' eyes moved rapidly under his lids as he slept, his body tense from the lingering effects of  his nightmare.

Suddenly, the sound of hooves approaching was heard. His horse lowered his head next to his and licked it.

Startled awake, Talos instinctively pointed his gun at the horse's eye and held his blade to its neck. His heart raced as he realized what was happening.

"I want to become a headsman. You are one, right?" Alfred said, looking down at Talos from the horse, with a hopeful smile.

Talos tried to catch his breath and gather his thoughts. His wounds had fully healed, thanks to the angel blood, but he was still a little disoriented from his nightmare.  "Yes, my name is Talos," he finally managed to say.

"Alfred," the boy introduced himself. 

"Get off my damn horse, Alfred," Talos grumbled, still feeling a bit groggy.

But Alfred didn't budge. He continued to pet the horse, which seemed to enjoy his company. "But he likes me," Alfred protested.

"He is not a pet. Headsman horses are trained to—" Talos started, but Alfred interrupted him.

"Don't be like that. I would be a good companion if you would make me your apprentice," Alfred insisted. 

Talos sighed. "Headsman are made in an academy," he explained.  Alfred looked dumbfounded.

"It's like a school, you know," Talos added.

Alfred grabbed his chin, thinking. "I heard about it. That's where you learn things?"

"Correct," said Talos.

Alfred made a sour face, as if he had bitten into a lemon. "I don't want to be a headsman anymore," he declared.

Talos raised an eyebrow, taken aback by Alfred's determination. "Oh, but you will, because you survived the angel blood," he replied, trying to reason with the boy.

"No, I don't wanna," Alfred retorted, and the horse seemed to understand, taking a step back.

"Don't fool around, kid. You are special," Talos said, trying to impress upon Alfred.

"I will go with you, on two conditions. One, you help me get revenge on the thing that killed my mother," Alfred said firmly.

Talos nodded, his eyes filled with understanding. "It's my plan to kill it anyway, so sure. What's the other one?" he asked.

  "You help me find my father. He is a headsman like you, his name is Alfred," Alfred revealed, his voice tinged with hope.

Talos' expression turned more serious. "Who told you that your father is a headsman?" he asked suspiciously.

Alfred pointed to the finished graves, where a single flower lay before a wooden memorial.

"My mother," he replied.

"Oh really…" Talos hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Sure, kid, we will search for him," he agreed. 

"Then it's a deal. We don't have time to waste. I need to become the Omega." Alfred said with determination, patting the horse behind him. "Hop on."

Talos' face darkened at Alfred's cheekiness.