Welcome to the Headsman Academy

Under the warm embrace of the sun, Talos rode his horse with a contented smile, his thick mustache framing his lips.

The picturesque landscape of the forest surrounded him, casting dappled shadows on the winding path.

Meanwhile, Alfred lay sprawled on the back of the horse, nursing a sizable bump on his head.

As the road transitioned into a more open expanse within the forest, a weathered, Gothic castle emerged on the horizon, a hidden gem enshrouded from the outside world by the dense foliage.

The castle, with its ominous architecture and imposing presence, stood as a haunting testament to time's passage, a relic of a bygone era steeped in dark history.

The castle's towering spires reached towards the heavens, their silhouettes adorned with intricate, wrought-iron finials that seemed to claw at the sky. Gargoyles, frozen in grotesque contortions, clung to the stone walls, their leering expressions seemingly mocking all who dared to approach.

The castle's windows, once grand and now stained with the passage of centuries, bore the remnants of intricate stained glass, casting eerie, multicolored shadows upon the  courtyard. 

A wrought-iron gate, twisted with age, marked the entrance, and its intricate patterns of thorns and crosses added to the eerie ambiance. Ivy, thick and unruly, crept up the castle's walls, ensnaring the stone in its sinister embrace.

The air around the castle was heavy with a sense of foreboding, and a palpable chill seemed to seep from the very stones themselves.

"We are here. This is the Headsman Academy," Talos announced with a mixture of pride and nostalgia.

Alfred peered up at the castle, his skepticism evident. "More like a haunted abandoned castle to me," he remarked.

Talos turned back with a stern expression, his hand rising to deliver a quick and affectionate slap to the back of Alfred's head. It was a gesture demanding respect, a reminder that their current destination was a place of importance and history.

"If you want to take revenge, then you have to become stronger," Talos asserted, his voice firm but carrying a trace of genuine concern. "There is no better way than this. This is where I, too, became a headsman."

"But you couldn't defeat that thing," Alfred retorted, his frustration evident in his voice.  Talos sighed inwardly, acknowledging the truth in Alfred's words.

'Well, he's got me there. If I had managed to kill the beast, he'd still be just a young boy.'

As they approached the castle gates, a sense of anticipation hung in the air. To their surprise, the gates swung open, inviting them inside.

The courtyard unfolded before them, a scene of bustling activity and training.  A group of a dozen or so half-naked boys engaged in intense one-on-one combat, their young faces contorted in concentration as they sparred with wooden weapons and shields.

In another corner, a couple of girls practiced their archery skills, drawing bows and releasing arrows with precision.

The clash of weapons ceased as all eyes turned toward Talos and Alfred's arrival. The atmosphere tensed, a mixture of curiosity and evaluation visible on the faces of the young trainees. These were not mere children playing games; they bore the marks of training and effort, their lean forms revealing the dedication to their craft.

"Who said you could stop?" A commanding voice resonated across the courtyard, quelling any idle chatter.  In a synchronized manner, the boys started to create a path, allowing a figure to emerge from their midst.

Standing at around one and a half meters in height and width, the old man's wiry frame was deceptive, for his presence commanded respect. Galf, the seasoned trainer, sported a long, woven goatee that almost reached the ground, a testament to his age and wisdom.  Galf's gaze sharpened as it fell upon Talos, his tone carrying intrigue. "You're late, and where are the rest of you?"

Talos continued his steady pace on the horse, his expression unwavering. "The final exam will be postponed," he stated, earning a raised eyebrow from Galf.

A moment of surprise gave way to understanding as Galf nodded slowly. "Luck seems to be on your side today, boys. You'll have the chance to spend more time in my illustrious company," he said with a hearty laugh, though it was met with only weak chuckles from the boys.

However, Galf's demeanor shifted swiftly, his tone turning serious. "Now get back to work!"

Talos and Alfred continued their journey through the courtyard, the eyes of the academy's trainees still following them, filled with curiosity.

Then, in a moment of spontaneous exuberance, Alfred sprang up behind Talos on their trusty horse. His proclamation rang out clear and exuberant, breaking the stillness of the courtyard.

"I'm going to be the Omega!" His voice carried with it an air of youthful confidence, accompanied by a beaming smile that radiated unbridled enthusiasm.

The cadets who had been observing this brief interruption exchanged glances, sharing a collective chuckle at Alfred's spirited declaration.

With a shared understanding, they returned to their rigorous training, the incident offering a momentary respite in their demanding routines.

****

Amidst the encompassing darkness, Talos and Alfred stood, a few flickering torches casting dancing shadows that stretched and swayed along the stone walls.

Five imposing figures, shrouded in robes, were seated around a large, ornate table at the center of the room. The council of headsman, their faces partially hidden by the hoods of their robes, exuded an air of authority and mystery.

Talos lowered himself onto one knee, a gesture of respect before the council. "Council, I have come before you bearing grave news."

A heavy silence hung in the air as the council members regarded Talos, their expressions  inscrutable.

"Our convoy was ambushed and destroyed, attacked by a vampire," Talos declared, his voice echoing in the cavernous chamber.

Murmurs and hushed conversations rippled through the council, their voices a collective murmur of concern and speculation.

"There has been no precedent for such an event. How could a mere vampire defeat a convoy of headsman?" questioned one of the council members, his voice laced with skepticism.

"Because… I believe it wasn't just any vampire. I believe it was Belze," Talos revealed, his words causing a stir among the council.

The council erupted into a fervent exchange of opinions, their voices overlapping and mixing in a symphony of conflicting ideas.

"Belze, the former general of the great vampire war? Do you truly expect us to believe he suddenly emerged from the shadows to attack us?" countered a council member, his tone dripping with incredulity.

"He matched the description from the ancient texts," Talos retorted, unwavering in his conviction.

Once again, the council engaged in animated discourse, their debates echoing off the stone walls of the chamber.  "What of the shipment?" questioned yet another council member, his voice cutting through the chaos.

"All but one vial was destroyed. It seemed that was his primary objective. Perhaps the vampires are organizing," Talos reported.

"Absurd! Vampires are no more than feral creatures. Them organizing is just a mere fantasy," dismissed a council member, though there was an undertone of uncertainty.

Amid the council's discordant debates, Talos cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "The truth is, I returned empty-handed."

"Explain yourself. Have you lost an angel blood vial?" accused a council member, his voice laden with accusation. "Do you realize the gravity of such a loss? We only get five in a year. Do you know how much it is worth? Wars have been waged over a single vial!"

"I didn't lose it… more like I used it," Talos admitted.

The council erupted once again, their arguments escalating to a crescendo. Amid the chaos, a single voice cut through the din, rising above the rest. "How?"

Talos rose to his feet, his grabbed Alfred shoulder, who was trying to get a booger out of his nose. "This kid was wounded by Belze. I gave him the vial…He drank the whole."

"It's impossible! No one has survived the angel blood assimilation without proper headsman training," an angry council member exclaimed, his tone laced with frustration.

"Don't play games with this council, Talos. You are already on thin ice anyway because of your last failure. And now you lost our angel blood shipment, and came up with a nonsense story"

"He did consume the entire vial," Talos asserted, his voice calm and resolute.

Once again, the council members entered into heated discussion, debating the authenticity of Talos's claims.

Finally, a voice rang out above the rest, commanding silence. "Enough! We will put the boy to the test as every cadet. If he indeed survives, then perhaps Talos's story holds some truth."

Amid the hush that followed, the council member continued, "We have questions for the boy. His name, his age, his profession."

Alfred, who had been engrossed in getting the booger out of his nose, was brought back to attention when Talos slapped his head. "Ah, Alfred. I dunno. Cutting wood," Alfred answered nonchalantly, seemingly uninterested.

The council's scrutiny intensified, their collective gaze fixed on the young boy. "Did you truly drink the entire vial?" one council member inquired, his skepticism evident. 

Alfred, having redirected his focus to extracting a stubborn booger from his finger, mustered an affirmative nod while attempting to flick away the nuisance.

His efforts, however, resulted in the booger being launched directly into the midst of the council members.  "Oopsie" says Alfred.

An instant of stunned silence was followed by a shrill scream from one of the council members, who recoiled in horror. "Get it off me! Disgusting!"

The chamber was immediately alight with commotion as the council members leapt to their feet, frantically attempting to assist their distressed colleague.

Illuminated by the torchlight, the council members' identities became clear—five aged men, each garbed in flowing black robes that bore symbols of their faith.

As the council's attention remained on the unfolding scene, Alfred seized the opportunity to  approach Talos, curiosity evident in his gaze. "Are these geezers really your leaders?"

Talos, his expression a mixture of amusement and weariness, replied in a hushed tone, "Headsman are tied to the church. These elders guide us because they possess the angel blood's source. And the service of vampire hunting brings them wealth and power."

Alfred's eyes scanned the council members once more, a tinge of disappointment in his gaze. "They don't look that strong to me."

Talos let out a soft chuckle, accompanied by a hint of irony. "They are strong…in faith…maybe."

Amid the exchange, Alfred, displaying his typical nonchalance, strolled toward the center of the dimly lit chamber. His audaciousness was evident as he addressed the council with a casual demeanor. "Hey, old guys. Do you know my father? He's a headsman, too. His name is Alfred."

The council members fell silent, their gazes narrowing in response to Alfred's audacity. One council member offered a retort with conviction, "Your father cannot be a headsman. Headsman are infertile."

Alfred nodded, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. 'Well, these old men don't seem to know him either. Perhaps finding my father won't be as straightforward as I thought. And what's this about being "infertile" anyway?' he mused silently.

  A commanding voice finally broke the tense silence. "Enough. Let's put this cocky kid to the test and ascertain the truth of Talos's claims. Welcome to the Headsman Academy, kid."