Chapter 017

Worry

“A Dhampir?” whispered Alevier, scanning through his library in his mind. “Oh, a Dhampir. Wait, a Dhampir!”

A cross between a human and a vampire is called a Dhampir. Since vampires are half-Monsters, by simple logic one can say that Dhampirs are one-fourth Monsters.

One-fourth Monster… Any creature which preys on man and has the potential to threaten one’s life is termed as a ‘Monster’ by the Adventurer's guild. And Isella is twenty-five per cent Monster. Crap.

His spiritual force was on the edge. He did not have his grimoire so he would not be able to cast spells quickly, as such he would almost take ten seconds or more to form an ice pike spell. But the Dhampir girl was sitting quite close to him, so by the time he could have a two-metre-long shaft of ice floating beside him, he would have already turned into a shrivelled up corpse - assuming Isella can suck him that fast which, she probably could.

Thus, Alevier concluded that he was at her mercy.

“What are you preparing your spiritual force for?” she asked him warily.

Oh yeah, sensors could also detect the movement of spiritual force in others if they were close enough. Sweet.

“Uh, I was just-”

“Are you afraid that I will attack you?” she asked. The silvery moonlight that entered from the window bounced off her semi-vampiric expression.

Alevier smiled wryly in response.

Isella sighed. “I guess my aunt was right. People will fear me when I tell them about my origins.” She looked at him again, her eyes back to normal. “I thought you were different, Alevier.”

The tone of disappointment hit him hard.

But how is he not supposed to be afraid of her when she was drooling over his neck a moment ago. Did she forget that? Or did she expect him to unreasonably trust her and not care about his life? But he did not say anything, it would only make things more complicated. He was better off not contacting her anymore.

“But it is alright,” she continued. “I was the one at fault to expect anything.” Her tone suddenly turned sour. “No one will truly see me as another person - a living being just like them and not a monster.”

Maybe if she did not suddenly try to attack them and suck their blood, people will understand her. But how could he tell? He was not standing in her shoes.

Her shoulders drooped down and she turned away, facing the open window. Alevier silently wished that she would not start crying again.

“This sucks,” she said bitterly and stomped her fist on the bed. “I hate this. Why did I have to be born like this? Do you know how it feels to constantly carry this feeling in your chest and when you finally let it off in the hope of someone understanding you, but... but you are met with disappointment.”

She got up from the bed and marched towards the entrance of the room. As she threatened to leave in sorrow and resentment, for some unknown reason, Alevier’s voice sounded out. “Isella! I really don’t mind you being a Dhampir-”

She suddenly stopped in her tracks frozen in the action of walking through the door.

“-but you know… I am just afraid that you might lose control over yourself again and that would inevitably result in one of us getting hurt,” said Alevier. His mind told him to reconsider what he was about to say next, but he decided to just say it and get over with it. “And I don’t know about you but, if I end up hurting you… I don’t think I would be able to live after doing such a thing.”

Okay, that came out wrong, he meant to say that his conscience would be tainted and he would live on with a guilty feeling in his heart.

“Really?” she turned towards him. Her Dhampir eyes back on her face.

“Yeah, really,” he said. “I don’t want you to be sad, it is completely my fault that I am unable to help you. So I guess I will have to isolate myself from you.”

“Then… I shall learn to control myself so we can remain friends forever! You don’t have to isolate yourself Alevier, we are in this together!”

Why must his plan backfire? He was really thinking that she would simply understand the impracticality of it and give up less bitterly.

“Are you sure about learning to control yourself?” he asked.

“Yes, I just need a bit of practice,” she said as she closed the door behind her. “It is not my fault that I am unable to control myself sometimes - this is new to me.” She added after seeing Alevier’s doubtful expression.

“How new?” said Alevier. He had not read much about Dhampires, he had thought that those were just wild speculations of an eccentric mage researching on vampires. Heck, he would have not believed any real-life story on Dhampires until tonight - after all, it was absurd to think of a vampire getting that close to a human.

“It has just been a year,” said Isella. “And let me tell you honestly, I have never once tried to drink someone’s blood - I am that much restrained. But you are an exception to that, of course. I hate you for ruining my record.”

So vampiric characteristics don’t manifest themselves since birth? That was something new.

“How many people know that you are a Dhampir?” asked Alevier curious about her.

“Well, you have my aunt, the school’s headmaster and a few other school officials, and you,” she smiled as she walked back to the bed. “You are the first person to whom I told this secret myself. My aunt always warned me that if I tell that to others myself, they will try to immediately kill me.”

Alevier nervously laughed in his heart. Her aunt was partially right, people would have tried to kill her if they had the power to do so. Which Alevier, currently lacked. But he did not want to kill her, she was - for the most part - a fairly nice person. He would not mind hanging out with her if she did not start licking him like a popsicle every time he bled.

“Wait,” said Alevier as a sudden thought struck him. “Are you living with your aunt?”

“Yeah, she is my only family,” she said. “But I have a separate house for myself in the city. And this is my dorm room.”

“What about your parents?”

“They...” Isella revealed a bitter smile. “They are dead.”

“I am sorry for that,” Alevier quickly apologized. He knew better than to scratch old wounds.

“It is fine,” said Isella. “People die a lot.”

They die only once. But Alevier kept himself from saying that.

“I don’t mind talking about them,” she said wryly. “I have never narrated my life to anyone. I don’t have any relatives or friends, and my aunt is not the type to sit beside me and listen.”

“...” Was it going to be another monologue? It was his duty to prevent that. “...” But could he find a way to stop that without appearing too insensitive? His mind and heart gave up simultaneously. He sighed in defeat and said. “I don’t know Isella, I have never felt comfortable talking about my dead father - I doubt that you would.”

“Your father is dead?” she said surprised. “I am really sorry for that.”

“It is okay, just… let’s not talk about death, can we?” said Alevier.

“Okay,” she said in agreement. “However, there is this thing that has been bugging me.”

“What is it?”

“Why is your skin so different?” she asked, curiously poking his hand.

“It is cold because it reflects my personality,” said Alevier with the dry humour that he was born with as he retreated his hand.

“I see,” she nodded. “You are, indeed, cold to others.”

“Yeah...” Guess she did not get the sarcasm.

“But you know, that is not the most peculiar thing about your skin,” she said thoughtfully. “I guess the fact that it is able to mask such a powerful life force which flows through your vein makes it most… bizarre.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Alevier. “By the way, do you know someone who can smell lifeforce too?”

“As far as I know all vampires can do that,” she said. “It is some sort of bloodline ability exclusive to them.”

Oh crap. He was in deep trouble now.

“My lifeforce,” said Alevier worriedly. “You can sense it from how far?”

“I don’t if it was yours but when I was about to depart from Prestolciya, I did sense certain impulses of strong lifeforce. Since the distance was quite great, it had thinned and the signature was rather blurred so I was not sure if it was yours But now I am sure, it was your lifeforce.”

“How many vampires are there in Ambrosio?” he asked with a pale expression.

“None,” she said thoughtfully. “They are scared of this city for he resides here.”

“He?”

“The Headmaster of this school. He isn’t very fond of vampires you know,” she shrugged her shoulders. “However, I am half-”

“What about the cities around Ambrosio?” Alevier cut her off.

“They,” Isella paused for a moment suddenly realizing what Alevier was implying. “They do have a few vampire outlets which were not discovered during the third magus war, I don’t know their exact location but, I have heard rumours.”

“That means every time I bleed-”

“-they sense strong impulses of lifeforce coming from Ambrosio,” said Isella wide-eyed.

“I think I might be in trouble.”

“But the vampires won’t dare to enter the city as long as the Headmaster is in this city,” said Isella. “He is said to be the strongest Archmage in all of Ozyandous, even in the Frolow Republic, we say his name with respect.”

“Were you able to control yourself when I bled?” said Alevier.

“...no,” she said, defeated. “But I will be able to control myself soon! I am very serious about that. Not to mention you caught me off guard there - I did not know you have a titanic mass of lifeforce under your skin.”

“I wonder how will you practice controlling yourself,” said Alevier. “I hope you are not thinking of visiting the hospital, are you?”

“No,” she said thoughtfully. “But I have an idea.” She gave him a strange look.

Alevier moved back uncomfortably. “I hope that idea does not require my assistance.”

“It does,” she smiled. "All you have to do is to you cut yourself and I will try to control myself. Can you do this? Please.”

Alevier knew better than to knock at death's door.

“No,” he said bluntly.

“Hey, listen to the whole thing,” said Isella. “You can have a stunning spell on standby so if I lose control, you can hit me with it.”

Wasn’t she seen the impracticality of it? At this distance, he would already be dead before he could utter a scream.

“Please,” said Isella. “Don’t you trust me?”

No, he did not. He was not as naive as her.

“Please, Alevier,” she pleaded. “Give me one chance to prove myself to you.”

By having his life put at stake? No, thank you.

“I don’t want to do it,” said Alevier.

“Please,” she continued to press on him. “Wait, I have another countermeasure.” She got up and went for her almirah, leaving Alevier in deep thought of how he should escape.

The muffled sound of her scrambling through her clothes was distinctly heard in the placid silence of the early morning.

"Ah! Found it," said Isella as she pulled out something from a drawer. She trotted back to the bed with something in her hands.

"Here," she thrust something into his hands. Something cold and metallic. Alevier stared at the sharp gleaming edge of the dagger Isella gave him. It was heavy and he was barely able to hold it up with his weakened limbs.

"What?" asked Alevier, scared of what she wanted him to do.

"If I go out of control then thrust it into my heart," she said, the confidence in her voice was a clear indication that she was not planning to die.

"But-" before Alevier could protest, Isella took out a small sharp blade and struck his cheek with it, drawing a short red line on which beads of blood began to appear. She immediately threw away the blade and jumped back.

Alevier cursed under his breath - he was not the kind to make rash decisions. And even if he managed to stab Isella with his frail arms, what will he do about the aftermath?

But his thoughts were cut short when he saw Isella frozen in her place, standing still in the dark. Then one of her eyes flashed red and he knew that she had lost control.

He had a newfound hatred for himself - he had a goddamn second chance at life and he just ruined it by being 'dragged' into a life-threatening situation. If only he could have been more decisive and delayed everything, he would not be stuck here.

But Isella did not care for his thoughts, she simply rushed towards him and pounced upon him. Alevier was unable to move in time and was painfully pinned down with a heavy thump which made the bed creak a little. Isella once again bared her fangs against him. Maybe she was restraining herself as her expression continuously twitched back and forth and her breathing was heavy. Her tongue slowly reached out for his wound as her hands wrapped around his neck and strangled him. Her red hair fell over his face as she sat on his chest.

Alevier’s arms, now empowered by adrenaline and his will to live, lifted the dagger under her. Isella did not notice him trying to aim the dagger at her heart. Maybe because she was too focused on trying to not lick his wound.

This was shit. Alevier should have asked her how to stab her in the heart, he did not want to place the dagger in the wrong place and effectively reduce his chances of survival to zero. Heck, she was not even a machine on which he could place his hand and feel her parts.

Alevier’s grip tightened around the dagger, now he did not give a damn where he stabbed. He was almost out of breath and he did not want to die. As he was about to thrust it he heard Isella’s voice.

“I can d-do it,” she said with much difficulty, and her body trembled. Maybe she thought that he had not dared to point the dagger at her so, the concern in her eyes was not for herself but for him. “Al-Alevier, I won’t... hurt you. N-never.”

Despite her words, her grip around his neck was tight, he felt as if his neck would burst opened from the pressure. He knew that she was going to kill him, this wound, unlike the last one would continue to bleed because of the pressure she was applying and he had no way to delay her enough for it to heal.

His mind which was almost deprived of air told him only one thing - he must stab her. Now.

He looked at her dead in the eyes and saw his own reflection in them. His scornful face stared back at him and a question suddenly struck him - was this the kind of expression she had to face every time someone was informed of her lineage? What kind of pain was behind those eyes?

The question echoed in his mind and his hands trembled.

He cursed himself - he could not make himself kill her. Even if he had seen a mindless monster in those eyes, he could have not stabbed her. Despite that fact that he had met her only some time ago and she had tried to kill him twice, she had been a good person to him. Yeah, she had her flaws, but wasn’t she a friend? He had once craved for friends too - things got lonely for him sometimes. How lonely had she been? He had never mentioned her talk of her previous friends in any of their conversations. Both of her parents were dead, she only had her aunt as a part of her family. That was just… pitiful.

“Damn you Isella.”

He threw away the dagger and closed his eyes as he was about to slowly blackout due to suffocation. Isella shrieked and pulled her hands apart releasing Alevier’s neck. She quickly pinched her nose and slowly her fangs retreated back into her gums. Her eyes switched back to amber.

“I c-can control myself now,” she said with a weak smile. “Hey, wake up.” She shook his head back and forth. “Don’t die on me like this!”

She vigorously shook him with both her hands as she held her breath. “What the hell? Don’t die! Alevier! I just grabbed your neck a little tightly, you cannot be that weak!” She slowly took in another breath and her fangs threatened to burst out again but she controlled her instincts and prevented that. Then she held her breath again and continued to shake him.

He was not dead. But Isella’s shaking made him incapable of replying.

“S-stop,” groaned Alevier as he finally managed to overcome nausea, he breathed slowly and deeply. He was sure that if she had done it for a little more time, he would have died.

“You are alive!” she exclaimed.

“Urgh,” his head hurt and he was seeing two Isellas now. “Next time, please think twice before forcing me into a lethal situation.” He rubbed his neck.

“I am sorry for that,” she apologized. “But hey I-”

She quickly turned her head away from him and let out a long breath before covering her mouth and breathing in. She turned towards him again and said, “-I can control myself now, even when you are bleeding!”

“That does not seem to be the case,” he said looking at her holding her breath.

“But this w-works!” she said before repeating her previous action.

Alevier wiped off the blood droplets on his cheek. The cut did sting, however, it was a small one so it would heal quickly, but Alevier decided to cover the wound with his palm just in case.

“Fine, you win,” he said. “We can remain friends.”

“Yes!” she exclaimed as she suddenly pulled him close and gave him a surprise hug.

Alevier was taken aback, he was not used to hugs, rather, he was not used to physical contact at all - he was on the slightly extreme end of the introvert spectrum after all.

“Uh, Isella, can you leave me,” he said despite secretly liking the smell of tulips which came from her hair.

“Oh,” she said as she pulled herself back. “I er- lost myself for a moment there.”

“Yeah...”

Suddenly, a white light flashed beside the bed and with a crackle like that of a whip, someone familiar appeared out of thin air.

“Wake up Alevier, it is time for your training,” announced Jarkiso in the dark. He looked around the dorm and said. “What in the world are you doing-”

His eyes turned towards Alevier who had his shirt still unbuttoned (he had tried to button it but it was just too difficult for him; he was just too awkward to ask Isella to do it) and Isella who was on top of him with her arms around the boy in her nightgown. It was quite an inappropriate setting.

“-Oh, young love! Sorry for disturbing you two. Alevier, I will come back in an hour - make sure you finish up by then. Well then, I am going.”

“Wait!” exclaimed Alevier. “It is not that!”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell it to anyone. I do not like to interfere with the personal lives of my students. But you are on your own if Waelecia finds out.”

“I mean-” before Alevier could complete his sentence, another uninvited guest appeared out of nowhere.

“What should I find out?” said Waelecia. Maybe she was just about to get out of her bed when her scrying spells detected her name being uttered her and she thought it to be a nice idea to teleport to this location, but she was still in her sleeping pyjamas. Her hair, however, was neatly tied into a bun. She nonchalantly looked around until her gaze stopped dead at Alevier.

“Al-” she suddenly noticed Isella on top of him who was blushing red and still. And after an indefinitely long time, Alevier saw the expression of shock on her face.

But that shock was suddenly replaced by rage and a vein bulged on her forehead.

“What the hell do you think you are you doing with him?” she addressed Isella with every bit of hostility her tongue could produce. A small glowing blue portal opened up beside her. “Alevier, you, too, shall bear my wrath, but after I kill that wretch.”

“Wait! I can explain,” exclaimed Alevier, reflexively, he lifted his arm but the sudden action ended up in him pulling a muscle. “Ow!”

“Alevier!” Isella quickly got off him and tried to help him.

“Oh, I have had enough of this,” snapped Waelecia as she pulled out a short sword.

“Will you all just SHUT UP!”

Jarkiso’s yell made everyone freeze in their track. “Waelecia, put your sword back in your pocket dimension. Er- you are Isella Elam - one of the transfer students, right? Calm down. And Alevier, you better start explaining all this - I don’t think your sister will listen to me for long.”

Waelecia grumpily put her sword away.

“Okay,” Alevier gulped down his saliva and began speaking all the bullshit his brain could make up at the moment. It took half an hour or so but, he managed to persuade Waelecia who strangely forgot to use a lie-detection spell on him; it was great that Jarkiso did not interfere for he did not look convinced.

But, all's well that ends well, Alevier’s day went on without any remarkable events. There was an argument with Jaysaun but it was not worth mentioning. And thus, Alevier was back in his dormitory finally resting after a long hard day.

* * *

Jarkiso walked the empty corridors of the school. It was strangely dark and cold but he was a seasoned soldier and a powerful mage, he was not bothered in the least. With the sound of his boots echoing across the hallways of Yarukok, he climbed up the stairs.

He reached the sixth floor, which was not much different from the rest of the floors. But he did not climb six flights of stairs to take a look at the research paper of the numerous scholars who did their advance study here. He headed towards the centre of the floor - towards a winding staircase located in the very heart of the whole story. It was the winding staircase which no one dared to go up for it led to a very special place.

That special place was not the Dungeon located under the Academy, but the office at the top of the tower.

People would always wonder what was the use of the unusually tall tower in the centre of the academy, it certainly radiated grandiosity with the five crystal towers which floated in the air in a circle around it, but it also stood out as unusual and mostly plain like a very long grey and yellow candle sticking out of a birthday cake.

Maybe if they had better eyesight and the low lying clouds of mist did not obstruct their view, they would have never called it ordinary-looking, for innumerable rows of small lovely runes and finely detailed designs were carved on it. Not to mention the little windows dotted across it were uniquely designed. Thus, the tower's very surface was a marvel of craftsmanship.

And in that tower, Jarkiso was climbing up the winding staircase. He had uttered a chant - more of a password - which activated a certain mechanism in the tower and made the steps of the stairs rotate upwards hence, carrying him up. But he was feeling a bit impatient so he was climbing the escalating stairs.

A minute later, almost three thousand feet in the sky, Jarkiso stood in front of a wooden door. The door looked old - very old in fact, its paint had long peeled off and blotches of green moss cover its bare planks which were held together with rusted riveted plates.

Jarkiso looked around nervously, the shadowy walls showed off its red and grey bricks which had patches of mud and small plants emerging out of its cracks. Those walls looked incredibly frail to Jarkiso as if they would come down cascading upon him with a light touch, even after knowing these were the very walls which protected this little parlour form the strong winds outside.

Although the air did smell old and moist, and the room was small with an ominous, creaky trapdoor in one corner and had an eerie old wooden door in one of its walls, it felt strangely comforting.

“Come in,” said an old voice from behind the door.

“Yes sir,” replied Jarkiso as he pushed back the heavy door to reveal a wide round office.

A small fire crackled in the stone hearth and but its cheerful flame failed to enlighten the entire room. One could see that the walls were covered with rows of which housed thick tomes and archives. A number of strange golden instruments lay on a rectangular table that rested next to the bookshelves in which a few cabinets were embedded.

Portraits of unknown people along with blue wisps of small fires floated in the air next to the shelves in an orderly manner.

Jarkiso glanced up at the ceiling, he always did this when he entered this room for he was always fascinated by the infinitely high ceiling, his eyes would run up those shelves and up the golden ladder until it eventually disappeared off in the darkness.

“Old habits die hard,” came a calm voice.

Jarkiso turned his attention to the person sitting behind the desk placed in the centre of the room.

The wooden desk was quite untidy with sheets of paper and metallic instruments lying upon it. One of the few remarkable objects which populated the desk and caught Jarkiso’s eye was something that resembled a gyroscope which was continuously spinning on its axis, there was also something like a small steam engine too, whose piston moved slowly but, steadily as it puffed out small globes of smoke. There was also a glowing crystal ball whose eerie green light was unable to reveal more than the thick white beard of the man to whom it belonged.

Shadows seemed to have shrouded the face of the man who sat behind the desk, they revealed a little less than his silky grey robes which were covered with magical runes.

“Sorry for that, sir,” responded Jarkiso as he stood erect in full attention as if he was addressing his commander.

“Be at ease, Jarkiso, take a seat if you may,” said the man behind the desk. “And please refer to me by my name - ‘sir’ doesn’t quite suit my tastes.”

Jarkiso hesitated for a moment. By no means Jarkiso was weak, but the unconscious pressure which pushed upon him by knowing who the man behind the desk was, made him cower.

“Understood, Professor Azriaz,” said Jarkiso as he loosened his stance. “Now can we discuss the urgent matters.”

“Time is of the essence,” said Azriaz. “Tell me, dear Jarkiso, what important news made you journey over here?”

“Professor,” said Jarkiso. “It is about Alevier Tuwymir.”

“Ah! That boy, one of the Xederus siblings again - the one was least talented in magic.”

“I am told to not speak that name,” said Jarkiso.

“I am quite confident in the enchantments which I placed here myself,” said Azriaz. “They might not be unbreakable but they can ward off most prying ears. Thus, have no fear to speak as you will.”

“So be it. It is about Alevier Xederus,” said Jarkiso, his voice serious as ever. “But before that, why did you not tell me that we had a half-blood vampire amongst our students?”

“I did not think it to be necessary to burden you with such knowledge, Isella Elam is a bright student and a kind person. Despite her lineage, she seeks to harm no one. And please do not bear any ill-intentions towards her or see her in suspicious eyes, she has suffered as many tragedies as you; notwithstanding being a child, she is very strong and very brave,” said Azriaz. “I feel it is Yarukok’s duty to aid and guide such people who wish to learn and to grow.”

“And what if something does happen with her?”

“Then I will be there to stop it, even yesterday morning when she lost control over her vampire blood, I was watching her closely, seeking to intervene to prevent any irreversible damage,” he said. “But I don’t think that I will ever need to monitor her for after that event, she has learned to restrain herself.”

“If you say so, I will believe. But tell me, why does her soul lean towards Alevier?”

“You used your spirit vision on her?”

“On Alevier, to be exact. I was curious about how true his story was, it had hardly been two days since he left the hospital and he was already sleeping with a new student,” said Jarkiso. “I saw her soul wanting to get closer to him as if she desperately wanted him.”

The man chuckled behind the desk.

“I assure you Jarkiso, that boy was not doing such a thing. As for your question, I have heard her say that he possesses a very strong lifeforce - a ridiculous amount of it coursing through his vein masked by his cold skin. Thus, she is unnaturally attracted towards him.”

“Then the situation is much worse than what I thought.”

“I too happen to know that the boy is in grave danger. But tell me, what do you intend to say.”

“You haven’t personally met the boy, have you?”

“I have, on three occasions if I recall correctly.”

“I mean, have you recently met him?”

“I am afraid no, but I can sense that he has changed remarkably,” said Azriaz.

“Remarkably is an understatement,” said Jarkiso. “The boy has his mana reserves almost doubled, his soul shines like a miniature sun, even his demeanour is different. Now I am told that he has a ridiculous amount of lifeforce in him? Had it not been me consulting a fellow sensor who told me that it was indeed the same Alevier Xederus who came back from that Quest five months ago, I would have taken him for an imposter.”

“That quest, it was indeed a tragic experience for that boy,” said Azriaz. “If my memory serves me right then, he had gone to on a quest to fix the farm in a village and decided to help an adventuring party after his job was done. Those adventurers were looking for some treasure in the nearby hills.”

“Yes, apparently, they found a cave in those hill in which the said treasure was but, due to some unknown seismic activity, the cave collapsed leaving only four survivors including the boy.”

“Alas! Fate is such a cruel lady,” said Azriaz. “I believe that you consulted the boy after this event.”

“Yes, I did. I did not want him to isolate himself anymore. He was a cynical person, it would not be a surprise if he hung himself in his room.”

“Nonsense! He is stronger than that! He is not the type of person - if my assertion is correct - who gives up easily.”

“Indeed he is, but he had a wounded heart then. Love can kill more people than a good sword,” said Jarkiso.

“Was that the case? Love is a beautiful yet, a terrible thing,” said Azriaz in a thoughtful tone. “But the past is past, we must focus on the present and make arrangements for the due future. Time is of the essence. Tell me is Alevier’s change the only thing that troubles your mind?”

“No, Professor Azriaz,” said Jarkiso. “The change is a good thing for him as well as for the people around him. But the suddenness of the change and the threats in the background are what I fear the most. I suppose you know well about the Nightstalker attack even though you were not at the school during that time?”

“I very well do, I left no stone unturned,” responded the man, his tone suddenly turned grave. “But the person who caused this event is someone of powers as great as mine. Thus, do not ask me who sent it or what was its purpose, you are not ready for those answers. I can only tell you that Mr Lumious, Mr Xederus and Miss Salathor are in grave danger and will face many perils in the coming future.”

“I did not think that it was this bad,” Jarkiso clicked his tongue. “But they are in danger, right? What do you plan on doing about it?”

“I will protect them with all my ability but there will come a time when they must fend for themselves for I am far from being omnipotent. And you, my dear Jarkiso, must train them - prepare them for the coming perils - for the future is dark with despair - there is only a small shimmer of hope. The Enemy does not only seek to harm the boys but every one of us - those who abide by the Virtues.”

“I understand,” said Jarkiso. “There is also one last thing that is worrying me.”

“I pray you, tell me.”

“There have been rumours of vampires assembling in the nearby cities, they are migrating from the Frolow Republic as well as from the Gudsenth States. They say that they are thinking of attacking Ambrosio.”

“Goodness! You need not worry about that, I have been keeping a track of them too,” said the man. “I think you know their objective too.”

“Indeed, I thought that it was a conspiracy against Ozyandous by Frolow and the Gudsenth States. I was going to inform you after the news on Alevier, but after you informed me of the event between Alevier and Isella. I am afraid their objective is something entirely different. Tell me, will they do it to drink the boy’s blood?”

“A vampire grows stronger with every ounce of life force it devours. And vampires are very ambitious - especially that one whom I assume to be staging this ploy. I believe that they will come, and soon,” said the man. “But rest assured, I have a plan no harm will come to the boy. I only need a little cooperation from a few teachers and our Student’s Council’s President. I request you to not inform the government about it - it shall ruin my plans and cause more harm than good.”

“For the greater good?”

“For the greater good. You may leave me alone now, I have some preparations to make,” said Azriaz as he stood up from his seat.

Jarkiso nodded and turned about his heel to leave the office. The impatient heart he had come up here with rested comfortably in his chest for if that man had a plan, things were surely going to work out.

After all, he was The Master of The White Staff, the greatest wizard of the century, the headmaster of Yarukok - Grand Magus Azriaz Tolseia.