Niero said very little during their meal.

In fact, after Rachel asked him to train her in the art of killing vampires, he only made a single statement, “Let me think,” he said, saying it more forcefully each time he was forced to repeat himself. “I still haven’t decided yet.”

She was malnourished and did not have a particularly diverse diet. But working on a farm had given her a bit of muscle, even if it did not have much definition. Growing up with so many brothers probably meant she could fight, at least a little. She must know how to tussle, thought Niero. But the most important aspect for a vampire slayer was courage.

Rachel did not fear him, which was rare for a human. But fear had its uses, especially against a vampire. Once a being came of a certain age, they started to feel near invincible. Fear - and the wisdom that came from it - were some of the only advantages a human had in a fight.

Had Rachel managed to tame her fear, or had she simply killed it and left it to rot in the corner?

This is what Niero had to find out.

“Oh, before I forget,” he said, reaching into his cloak. Rachel leaned forward with anticipation. This was the first time he had said anything other than the polite equivalent of “shut up.”

“You should take this,” he said, passing her a small vial of purple medicine.

“What is it?”

“It’s a cure, to that poison you took back at the farm.”

“What poison?”

“Please, that poison is an effective tool against the weaker vampires, but it’s not entirely odorless. And don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’re nearly as pale as I am.”

Rachel was about to explain that she had no need for any antidote, because she had no idea what he was talking about, when she coughed up a small globule of blood. She stared at the blood, then at Niero, then at the floor. “How about this?” she said, slowly raising her head. “If I drink the antidote, then you teach me.”

“What kind of deal is that?” scoffed the vampire. What was wrong with this girl? “That antidote costs two gold pieces, and even if you have the money, it’s not easy to come by. How do I owe you?”

“Well, you need me alive,” said Rachel. “So if I die, you wouldn’t be able to find your vampire, right?”

She flashed him a cheeky grin.

The vampire simply leaned back in his chair, sighing heavily. Of all the people who could have had the mark, why did it have to be this one? “Relax,” he said. “I believe I have a compromise. I will train you…” He had to hold up a finger, to stop Rachel from jumping out of her chair and screaming with delight. “It is

provisional. If you pass the first week, I will train you. Otherwise, you are simply my traveling companion. Do we have an understanding?”

“How do I know you won’t take back your word as soon as I take the antidote?” she asked, holding it high in the air, as if she were about to smash it.

“Smart girl,” he said, removing a scroll from his robe and unfurling it. Next he took a small vial of ink out and waved his hand over it, commanding the droplets to float upwards and land on the page, forming perfectly neat handwriting.

Lastly, he removed a bright red feather and handed it to Rachel.

“Sign here,” he said. “This is a blood contract. If I disobey the rules as stated, there shall be dire consequences.”

Rachel glanced at the contract. It was written in a very straightforward fashion for a legal document, probably so she could make sense of it. It said just as the vampire had just told her - that he would teach her to slay vampires if she could pass a week of lessons, and that she would obediently help him on his quest if she should fail.

“Can you pass me the ink?” she said.

“There’s no need,” he replied. “Ink does not work for a blood contract. That feather will extract what it needs from your arm.”

Rachel grimaced as she caught his meaning, then slowly brought the feather’s tip to the parchment. She felt a prickling in her arms as the feather made contact with the paper. A small blot of blood stained the page. She made sure to write her name in as tiny a font as possible, to spare herself the blood.

“Very good,” said Niero. He grabbed the feather and signed his own name next to hers, writing in large, dramatic letters. “Now finish your dinner and we’ll go to our lodgings for the night.”

After the most extravagant meal of Rachel’s life, Niero took her to a door in the back of the restaurant. He inserted his magical key in the lock and an eerie blue light emanated from the other side of the door. When she passed through, Rachel found herself next to a crumbling shack in the middle of the woods.

“Is this where we’ll sleep?” she asked.

“No, our lodgings are still a mile north of here,” he replied.

“Then why don’t we go there using that special key of yours?”

“Because, it’s time for your training,” he said, handing her a drab green cloak and wristbands. There were glowing white letters sewn into the fabric, which were somehow both warm and icy to the touch.

“So what do those do?” she asked.

“They’re called runes,” said Niero. “They’re letters of great magical power. Depending on which ones you use, they’ll have a different effect.”

“What kind of effect?”

“Well, if inscribed correctly, these ones should make the clothes heavier.”

Rachel raised an eyebrow. “And if it’s incorrect?”

Niero looked down. “Horrible nausea, diarrhea, indigestion.”

Rachel considered that for a moment, before throwing the cloak over her clothes. It was roomy and reeked of mildew, and was terribly itchy, but other than that, she didn’t feel any different.

Only a few ounces heavier at most.

“It’s not working,” she said.

“The wristbands,” said Niero, pointing.

Rachel looked at him skeptically. But as soon as she put them on, it was as if some giant had grabbed her and thrown her to the ground. Dirt was being pushed into her nose and mouth, and her bones were going numb under the pressure. It took all her strength just to breathe.

“Too much weight?” asked Niero.

“You think?” gasped Rachel.

Niero pulled the wristbands off and his new apprentice gasped for air, rolling onto her back.

Niero understood humans like he understood a recipe. He knew all the ingredients, how they went together, he even knew what the finished product should look like, right down to the number of eyelashes on each eye (in Rachel’s case, a hundred and thirty on the left, a hundred and twenty eight on the right).

But he did not know what the result should actually be like. He understood all the different parts, but not the whole.

“Here, how about now?” he asked, adjusting the ancient inscription.

“Better,” said Rachel. She could breathe more easily now, and even sit up, but her legs were still planted on the ground. It took her three minutes of pushing before she managed to get to her feet, her legs wobbling violently.

“I’ll have you wear these as we travel,” explained Niero. “And I’ll add weight as you adjust.”

“Travel?” said Rachel, stumbling forward. “I can hardly even stand, let alone walk. I’m supposed to walk all day in this?”

“Ah, that’s right, I forgot,” he said. “The human spirit is so delicate and fragile, like a bear. Stab it once and it’s dead.”

“Screw you, this is nothing,” said Rachel, lunging forwards, nearly falling as she landed.

Niero couldn’t help but smirk to himself - he didn’t fully understand humans, not yet, but at least he knew a little of how they worked.

Stubbornness and pride, those were things a vampire could easily understand.

“Very well, let us keep going,” he said. “The inn should be just a mile up the road.”

“Great. That’s nothing,” said Rachel, running forwards and falling, managing to catch herself on a tree. Fat beads of sweat were already forming on her forehead, and her legs were quivering, but she kept moving, lunging from one tree to the next.

“That’s an interesting technique,” said Niero.

“Shut up,” said Rachel, grunting as she landed against the next tree, the bark scratching her skin. She continued to do this until the path cleared, and there was nothing left to cling to.

“What will you do now?” asked Niero.

“Improvise,” she told him.

Rachel slowly lowered herself to the ground. She had to be careful, because if she landed completely on her back or her stomach, then she may not be able to get up again. She managed to position herself on her elbows and knees, then started crawling down the dirt path.

“You’re quite determined, aren’t you?”

“Damn straight.”

By the time she finally reached the inn, the skin on her knees and elbows had been worn off, and the blood had hardened and started to turn to plaster. For the final few yards, she was forced to lay on her belly and drag herself by her fingertips, the ground digging into her stomach.

She did not remember what happened next, but when she woke up she was tucked into bed, covered in bandages and scabs. Niero was sitting beside her, applying ointment to her elbows.

“You kept the runes on,” she said, struggling to lift her wrists.

“You need to get used to them,” said Niero. “Besides, I was afraid you’d get mad if I took them off, accuse me of going easy on you.” He turned her over and started applying ointment to her face, which has also accumulated quite a few scratches. “Besides, you need to get used to it. We’ll be going even further tomorrow.”

Rachel realized she should have asked for a better contract. There was nothing in it that said Niero had to make unreasonable demands. If he wanted, he could always have a part of the test that was physically impossible for a human to pass.

But somehow, despite the fact that he was a particularly dangerous vampire, she had the feeling Niero would never do something so unreasonable.

She would pass the tests, no matter what.

“Hey, can you tell me something?” she said, turning to the vampire.

“Sure,” he replied, flicking his wrist. Suddenly the aching in her body started to subside.

“Back at the farm, you mentioned killing some farmer - that you found something in his house. I was wondering, what was it? Whatever it was, I got the feeling it shook you.”

The vampire smiled and nodded, though he took some time to actually respond to her. His expression was distant and vacant, as if he were in the process of reliving some memory.

“As a vampire, I’ve seen many things in my life. This includes many great pieces of art.” He handed the bottle ointment to Rachel, so she could finish applying it herself, then he stood and moved to the window. The moon was full and brilliant that night. “But I’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as this. I realized that this farmer was in fact a genius, capable of creating something that could rouse a soul as long dead as my own.”

Niero was turned away from her, but Rachel had the distinct feeling that the vampire was crying.

“It made me realize...” he said, now turning back to her, his eyes wide and dark and full of passion. “I had the terrifying thought that so many geniuses will be born and die anonymously, as simple farmers or thieves. That people who could have changed the world will hardly see any of it.” He flicked his wrist once again, as Rachel felt an even greater weight pressing down around her. “That is why I will test you fairly. I shall give you a chance to prove your own worth. I believe you deserve that much.”