A Vampiric Problem (2)

Once again, I was careless. Slow to think. My thoughts were a muddled and confusing mess, full of useless questions and seldom any answers. 

I was fast, but would I be fast enough? 

Yet again another question.

Of course I fucking was! 

Swift with haste, I swung my hand and slapped the pillar of fire away, causing it to sear the edge of the counter instead. I then spun around, shattering the frost spikes with my other arm. 

With the halfling safe, I wasted no more time. I appeared before the vampire that had cast the pillar of fire and separated his head from his body with a quick swipe of my hand. 

Before the other vampire could react to his companion's demise, I had blurred the distance between us. I stood before him for a split second, towering over his puny existence before I slammed him against the floor. 

He was not dead yet. 

I knelt down and pulled his shattered face from the floorboards and stared into his quivering eyes. There was that same glimmer again. Their boss had returned to watch. Of course a maniacal dark magic user wouldn't be able to resist seeing how his pawns had fared. 

Hopefully he would remember how I ended his sorry group of vampires. For I would not exercise the same amount of restraint against him, or her. 

Whatever the fuck they were. 

"Whoever you are, wherever you may be, I will find you," I said, "And I will end you from where you stand."

As soon as I said those words, I slammed the vampire again, splattering his brain against the wood. The vampire shriveled up and died. 

My patience with this necromancer was running thin. I had barely even journeyed back into the confines of this godless world and already I was being harassed.

To add further to my frustrations, I was lost. My mind was elsewhere, always riddled with questions I don't even remember asking. What was I doing!?

I sighed, again.

I stood and walked back to the counter, ignoring the destroyed dining room and sat back on my still standing stool. 

The halfling was there to greet me with a full smile, oddly enough. He was feeling thankful, I guessed.

"Ya really are something, huh?" He said as he reached down the counter, "Ya deserves something for that."

I raised a brow, "I thought I was cleaning this place?"

The halfling chuckled softly, "Ya are. But ya still deserve something."

He gave me a large, overflowing mug of fizzy beer. I thanked the halfling and drank, accepting the gift. There was no use denying his kindness, especially since I was the reason his tavern was turned upside down in the first place.

It could be argued that the vampires were the ones who started it, but they were after me in the first place.

Zeal was still sleeping soundly upstairs, unaware of the battle that had occurred from underneath her feet. I felt the defense ward brimming with energy, active and ready. 

She was the safest person in this city by far. I doubted the high councilor of this place had the same luxury. 

Guards were good, but a potent ward that spun out invisible webs of certain death would even give the deadliest of assassins pause. 

And that was assuming they were aware of what the ward was capable of doing.

As the halfling and I drank together against the backdrop of a ruined dining room, the shuffle of a few broken chairs caught our attention.

"One of em survived," The halfling said, looking oddly annoyed rather than concerned, "Should I put a stake into its heart?"

I shook my head, "No, I intended for her to live. I can't exactly extract answers from the dead now, can I?"

The halfling snorted, "Ya sure she ain't a threat no more? I've fought against them before. Back in the day..."

"Vampires ain't no joke."

"You can rest easy," I reassured, "I broke most of her ribs and spine, and that is excluding how she slammed against your wall."

"Huh, right then. How'd you manage that with just a punch?" The halfling asked, sounding curious.

"I'm a martial master," I said, leaning forward, "The force I exerted and concentrated into my fist was not enough to blow through her chest, but just enough to pulverize everything inside." I explained.

Martial power was second only to magic. Only a fool would disregard its use. A great many mages, my past self included, had fallen victim to the arrogant assumption that magic trumped all.

It did not. A capable warrior could as easily defeat a complacent mage when given the opening. 

Not to mention the strength given by martial Skills. A hard body that seldom needed the protection of spells, speed that relied not on the machinations of mana, and power summoned by the will of the one's own flesh.

If magic was using nature's energy, martial skill was using one's own. 

However, saying this completely disregards the fact that mana is generated by all living beings, only varying by amount and concentration. Hence why only a blessed few can call upon it, let alone use it. 

But martial skill could be taught or learned by anyone. 

"Ya know, as a child, I always taught magic was cheatin," The halfling said before drinking from his mug, "When I joined the Restoration Force, I thought a mage would be the end of me. Ya know? The stories about great wizards smiting entire armies off the land..."

The halfling trailed off as his eyes found themselves staring at something unseen, a memory from his past.

"And... it was true... the elves..." The halfling's voice cracked under the weight of whatever memory he found himself in. His brows sunk like sinking ships against the sea of his cheeks.

I had seen those eyes before. A blank stare into nothingness, a void that consumed the souls of those who were unfortunate enough to gaze upon its unseen existence.

The manifestation of a unique melancholy. A monster so powerful not even the greatest of magics could slay it. And the bane of all who had been in war.

It went by many names. But none had been enough to describe it in all its horror.

I knew better than to let the halfling suffer alone. Reaching out, I placed a hand on his shoulder and patted. 

"S-sorry.. it just-" The halfling looked scared. I shook my head and hushed.

"There's no need to apologize. It's okay." I said.

The halfling looked at me for half a minute before retreating from the counter, "Am... drunk. Gonna go to bed."

"What about the tavern?" I asked.

"Dining room's busted. Ha. And ain't nobody coming here no more. Make yerselvs at home."

And with that, the halfling removed himself from the counter and headed to the back of the tavern, disappearing behind a crooked wooden door. 

I was now alone inside a ruined dining room. I chose to be alone when I exiled myself from the world all those years ago, and thus being alone had been my natural state of affairs ever since.

But no matter how much I denied it, how much I pretended that I was anything but satisfied and accepting of my current situation, deep inside I couldn't help but feel the stranglehold of loneliness.

It was always an ever-present feeling. A heavy burden that bore down upon me without end or mercy. 

I found myself remembering the first time Barleyon and Wheatley cooked me a meal. It was bland, boring, and somehow tasted like tree bark. 

But I didn't care that they failed at such a complex task. Back then I was justifying their creation by telling myself I needed helpers.

Mindless automatons to help me maintain the little corner of the world I had carved for myself. An army of blank golems to keep me company till the end of time itself. 

The smile I had on my face as the two helpers attempted and failed until they eventually succeeded betrayed these thoughts of mine.

They were not the mindless automatons I had envisioned them to be. They were my children, not by blood, but by the sweat and tears I shed to create them.

A family of my own design. 

And so it pained my heart to remember that Wheatley was gone. I placed my hand over my chest, feeling the ache that seared underneath. 

I miss him. 

I miss them all. I miss everything I ever loved.

Why was everything so cruel?

Did I not deserve the happiness achieved by others? Was I destined to endure this immortal life full of nothingness and despair?

I could not understand myself. I thought I wanted nothing more than to fade away, to leave this world behind and finally be at peace.

Death stared me in the face. But instead of blinking and embracing its call, I stabbed it with my sword. I defied my own wish, rejected my paradise. 

Shaking my head, I retreated from these gloomy thoughts and looked around. Though the dining room was a mess, it wasn't a mess that was beyond cleaning. 

I could summon a portal and have my helpers clean everything, replacing the destroyed furniture with our own craftsmanship.

Speaking of summoning a portal, I figured it was about time I checked on Barleyon's and Frank's progress. I was beginning to miss my home.

But first things first, there was a paralyzed vampire I needed to interrogate and possibly torture for information.

Hopefully she would resist, there was no better way to treat a vile creature of the night such as her kind other than through extreme pain. 

Memories of murdered villages and burning cities crossed my mind as I remembered what these vampires were capable of. And why I hated them so much.

I stretched my back and stood, yawning as I checked on the time by summoning a magical illusion which showed the position the sun relative to the world.

Perfect. I had enough time for such interrogation and to make a short visit back home. 

As I walked towards the paralyzed vampire laying between the rubble, I couldn't help but think about the theories I had in my head about what this necromancer was planning.

A keen interest on me was one thing, but what for? What could I possibly offer that would make me worth their time? 

The vampire shuffled helplessly as she heard me walking closer. I could sense the fear and desperation from her.

Good. She had a lot to atone for.