Chapter 20: Grave Goods

“The Halls of Master Time have as many different names as there are ways to die. Every culture has some version of them in their stories. The details of what the Halls look like vary drastically, but some details stay consistent. Chief among them is a section of the Halls known as the “The Poet’s Cloister.” Created by Master Time as a favor to mortal kind. The Cloister is a place where Dead souls can sleep away the years. Waiting for their loved ones to pass on and join them in the Halls. Where they might face Master Time’s judgment and petition to be reincarnated together” - Lord-Scholar Reuel’s commentaries on the Codex Mortis.

Leaving the Alukah’s Tomb proved to be a little more difficult than either Cole or Natalie expected. First, they tried to use the enchanted wall they’d first come through. Despite their best efforts, the stone stayed solid and impassable. Whatever magic Glockmire used on the wall died with him. So Cole and Natalie started the unpleasant task of clambering through the Ghoul-dug tunnel. Pushing through the breach poor dead Gurni had created, the duo entered the frost-caked cavern where Dietrich and Cole made their stand.

Holding up a glowstone he’d scavenged from the Tomb, Cole let its soft white light fill the cavern. A slaughterhouse greeted him; the Paladin and Scarlet Knight had cut through a small army of Undead. Covering the ground and walls in a layer of ash and gore. The tunnel floor creaked under Cole’s footsteps as frozen blood and offal strained under his weight. Ignoring that nauseating fact, Cole checked over the chamber and found no apparent dangers. Gesturing for Natalie to follow him into the Chamber, Cole moved deeper. Pointedly ignoring the frozen form of Dietrich lying nearby as he did.

“Oh, Jag!” sputtered Natalie as she looked around the gruesome room. The stolen glowstone’s light reflected off pools of frozen blood, filling the chamber with a strange otherworldly light. The sight walked the line between grotesque and beautiful. Shaking her head slightly to dispel her initial surprise, Natalie followed after Cole. The gentle patter of her bare feet on the ice contrasted with Cole’s crunching steps. Natalie did her best to not think about what she was walking on and to ignore how little the Cold bothered her.

Between Cole’s experience and Natalie’s enhanced night vision, they navigated through the first chamber with minimum difficulty. Moving past the frost and corpses, they entered a crude tunnel. Natalie had to duck her head to move through the tunnel while Cole had to practically bend himself in half to fit. The roughly cylindrical tunnel had been cut into the rock with little planning. Hundreds of chisel marks dotted the stone, and more than a few worrying cracks stretched between them. This tunnel had been hacked into existence with reckless abandon. Petar making full use of his Ghoul miners.

After a few minutes of slowly moving through the tunnel, they reached its end. Cole pulled himself from the tunnel's end, a roughly man-sized hole in the rock. Thankful to be free of the claustrophobic channel. He helped Natalie get clear of the tunnel as well. Cole did his best to not think about what would happen if the tunnel had collapsed on them. Pondering such a fate made Cole distinctly ungrateful for his immortality. Death could be mercy; one denied him if he were to become entombed alive. Pushing away that line of thought, Cole looked around their current location.

It was a larger sloping cave that spread out in two directions. The sound of dribbling water and the look of the stone told Cole this was a natural formation. Apparently, the mines of Glockmire were just part of the subterranean network within the mountains. Inspecting the chamber for herself, Natalie shrugged and started taking the path leading upwards. Cole reached out and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. Turning her in the opposite direction and gesturing towards the downward sloping path.

“See those stains on the walls and ground?” Cole gestured at brownish marks smeared on the living stone. Natalie nodded and winced. Now that she noticed them, Natalie’s Vampire nose caught the smell coming from the stains. It was a mix of dead blood and rotting flesh, clear signs that Ghouls had walked that path. Quashing the instinct to breathe, Natalie followed Cole as he took them deeper.

The Ghoul miners and their taskmasters hadn’t done anything to cover their tracks. So it proved easy enough for Cole to backtrack along their route. Following the decay, discarded equipment and destroyed walls. As they moved through the damp darkness, Cole started to piece together more of what happened. While gaining a new respect for the miners of Glockmire. Some natural or unnatural phenomena had left an incredible array of caverns and tunnels throughout the Mountains. Tunnels the Miners had exploited and expanded upon with gusto. It seemed Petars efforts to tunnel into the Alukah’s tomb were only successful thanks to generations of Miners carving most of the path for him. There was some poetry in that fact, but Cole had neither the time nor inclination to consider it.

For over an hour, Cole and Natalie trudged through the tunnels, occasionally doubling back when the trail went cold. The tight confines of the Cave, accompanied by their generally oppressive atmosphere, started to wear on both of them. They’d both been much, and the initial giddiness of victory and confessed love was starting to wear off. For Natalie, it was especially bad. Grief and shock she’d pushed away in the face of everything were starting to return. Accompanied by a sinister mixture of urges related to Cole. Every time she looked at him, an intense wave of desire would hit her. On the surface was just pure lust. Natalie had fallen hard for Cole and wanted to express that fact in the most classical of ways.

But beneath that already embarrassing wash of desire was something much more sinister. Whenever Natalie found herself staring at Cole’s broad shoulders, she found her newly sensitive hearing picking up his heartbeat. A sound that called to her new instincts with disturbing clarity. Natalie the Woman wanted to enjoy Cole, but unfortunately, so did Natalie the Vampire. Low on blood and only now starting to realize it. Natalie had to fight against the niggling whispers growing in volume. Whispers suggesting all sorts of fun ways to enjoy Cole. How she could take what she needed during the throws of passion. Or how easy it might be to lull Cole to sleep with a gentle touch and have her way with him. Pushing herself to ignore those increasingly deprived thoughts, Natalie let out a low, pained whimper.

To her Horror, Cole noticed the sound. Turning to face Natalie, Cole had a worried look on his face. Glancing over her, quickly checking for injuries, Cole’s flushed slightly. An odd look for his scarred complexion. Natalie was still practically naked, clad only in the ruins of Cole’s cloak. After his near begging insistence, Natalie had agreed to wear the tattered thing. It did little for her modesty, and at this point, Natalie was far, far past caring. She’d always been confident in her looks, and in the light of everything else, any embarrassment related to her near nudity seemed trite. Still, watching Cole squirm had proven a surprising boon for Natalie’s mood. That had changed now as her desire to tease and fluster the man was being subsumed by more… predatory desires.

Trying to regain his composure, Cole fixed his eyes clearly on Natalie’s face and asked, “What’s wrong? Did you cut yourself?”

A million different lies and deflections flitted through Natalie’s mind. She wanted to maybe fake an injury and elicit sympathy. She wanted to use his abashment to her advantage. She wanted to use her beauty to make him lower his guard. Natalie wanted to use that silver tongue of hers to ease away any wariness before she struck. It would be easy to claim her prey and make him enjoy every second of it.

Wait.

Prey?

Eyes wide in horror, Natalie felt sick. Her very mind was betraying her in some truly twisted ways. Feeding a never-ending stream of manipulative thoughts into her. Lips parted, licking her new fangs in nervousness, Natalie tried to say she was fine. To brush away the sinister thoughts, delude herself into normalcy. Instead, something else came from her. Something that made her Vampiric side scream in frustration. Natalie told the truth.

“I’m hungry, and it’s… it’s… making it hard to focus or even be myself.” Natalie shut her eyes and flinched. Her new instincts screamed for her to run, while the self-loathing growing in her heart expected Cole to take that stolen halberd and lop her head off. She didn’t expect his gentle fingers to touch her chin and guide her lips to his wrist. Opening her eyes in surprise, Natalie looked at Cole. Staring up at the Paladin wide-eyed, Natalie wordlessly asked for permission. Cole nodded and murmured softly. “We will work out how to do this in the future, but for now, drink until I need you to stop.”

Gingerly, Natalie bit Cole. Her fangs sinking into his skin, through the blood-magic scars. Letting his ichor flow into her mouth. Cole let out a low noise of pain which almost made Natalie pull away. But to her shame, the taste of his blood was enough to overpower any attempts at being considerate. Drinking down his life, Natalie didn’t know if she wanted to cry, laugh, sleep or make love to Cole right here in this filthy tunnel. After a few minutes of lapping up the blood, Cole gently pulled his wrist away from Natalie. A vicious animal impulse told her to not let him, but now partially stated it was easier for Natalie to ignore it. As he pulled away, Natalie gave the puncture marks one final lick.

Cole examined his wrist and noted the rapidly forming scabs. The venom and salvia of Vampires are a disturbing mixture of magical and mundane toxins. While the addictive and mind-altering properties of their venom are widely known. That their salvia had coagulant properties was less known. Flexing his fingers and letting fresh blood flow into his hand, Cole looked down at Natalie. Her red eyes were wet and threatened to erupt into full-blown tears. The newly created Alukah, heiress to a legacy of slaughter, looked up at Cole with heart-wrenching guilt plastered over her face.

Freshly fed, Natalie’s body was acting as if it was alive, and that meant tears. When she had lacked the ability to cry, it had been easier to keep her emotions under control. But now that she could cry again, her body and mind were ready to dive right back into all that pain she’d been bottling up. Before an apology for what had happened could escape Natalie’s blood-stained lips, Cole kissed her on the forehead.

Gently in that low rolling accent of his, Cole whispered. “I love you, and I am here for you.”

That broke any little bit of control Natalie had left, and she sucked in a deep, ragged breath. Partially to reply in kind, partially because her body hadn’t yet forgotten being alive. Natalie tried to form words or even just cry in a dignified manner but was failing at both. Sobbing deeply, Natalie sucked down more air to fuel her weeping; and tasted something impossible in the air. Almost instantly, Natalie stopped crying and looked up and around them. Sniffing the air like a curious hound. She’d detected a whiff of something she did not expect to find in a dank cavern system. The rich floral smell of Tea. Faint but unmistakable, it hung in the air like some ill-fitting phantom.

Looking at a confused and slightly pallid Cole, Natalie asked. “Do you smell that? Do you smell Tea?”

Even more mystified, Cole answered. “No, I don’t. But you do? Where is it coming from?”

Latching onto this mystery to distract herself, Natalie kept sniffing the air and followed after the smell. Breaking away from the Ghoul trail, they took another route through the caves. Meandering through the tunnels as Natalie followed the strange smell. Any doubts about its validity or Natalie’s sanity fell away as they got closer. The smell only got stronger, and Cole started to pick it out from the damp, musty stink of the cave. After another hour of following the smell, they reached its presumable source. One of the cave walls was unnaturally flat, with odd grooves in it. The stone looked like panels of a huge cupboard stuck to the cave wall.

Looking at each other, Cole and Natalie shared mutual looks of confusion. After a few seconds, Cole shrugged and angeled the butt of his halberd into one of the Grooves. With surprisingly little effort, Cole managed to slide the stone panel to the side. Bright light and cold air met them as the panel moved. As the wall opened up into a large doorway, Natalie and Cole blinked away the light. Its brilliance was a stark contrast to the murky glowstone they’d used in the tunnels.

A familiar voice echoed from the other side of the entrance. “About jagging time. I was running low on Tea.”

In the doorway was Priest Matthias, the sole servant of Master Time permanently in Glockmire. The lean and weary-looking Priest was bundled up in winter clothing and carried a cup of Tea between mittened hands. Looking at the slack-jawed Natalie and Cole, he gestured for them to enter. “Well, don’t just stand there! I have a holy mission to complete.”

Confused, the duo stepped through the strange doorway and into the Temple Mortuary. As soon as they did, Matthias gripped a hidden latch and sealed the wall shut behind them. The cold chamber was empty of any corpses. Instead, its slabs were occupied by a portable tea service and a small pile of clothing. Sipping his beverage, Matthias gestured towards the pile of clothes.

“I don’t know if I found anything that will fit you, Sir Paladin, but Miss Stirga should find something in there.”

Exchanging another confused glance, Cole and Natalie went over to the clothing. Natalie easily enough found a simple dress and some sandals, while Cole had to tear a few stitches to get a pair of britches of fit. Seeing they were dressed, Matthias let out a low sigh and looked at Natalie. As he did, the sleep-deprived Priest did a double take and dropped his drink. Lukewarm tea splashed onto his feet, and bits of clay pottery exploded across the floor. Matthias, it seemed, had just noticed Natalie’s eyes.

With his own eyes wild and uncertain, Matthias whispered under his breath. “He will come with one corpse but leave with another.”

Natalie flinched at his words and looked away from Matthias. To her surprise, the Priest stalked over to Cole and glared at him. In a bitter tone, he snapped at the Paladin. “I hope whatever task Master Time set you was worth it. Dozens of people are dead or missing, and I don’t even want to think about what the Vampires will do when they find out you escaped them.” Looking back at Natalie, Matthias set his jaw and continued speaking to Cole. “Why have you failed her, Paladin? You couldn’t rescue her, and now you let this…falsehood wear Natalie’s body?”

Those words hit Natalie like a slap. Pushing past her momentary surprise, she stepped towards Matthias and snapped. “Dammit, Matthias, you’ve known me my whole life. I’m still me!”

The Priest looked at her with genuine sadness in his eyes. “This is the cruelest part of the Vampire’s curse. Natalie died when a Vampire infected her corpse. Now a morass of memories and a tainted soul think it's still alive. For now, it can still think and feel like a human, but that will change. It would be kinder to end this false life before the Curse can ruin her soul.”

Natalie was speechless; she wanted to punch Matthias as much as she wanted to escape back into the tunnels and never see another person again. Tears of anger and sadness started to boil up, but Cole interjected. “It's possible for a person to resist the worst of the Curse. To still be the same person they were in life. On top of that, there are other extenuating circumstances. Truly killing Natalie is not something I cannot do nor let anyone else attempt.”

Staring down Matthias, Cole let some of that intensity of his press against the Priest. The force of will of someone who’d seen and experienced things no mortal could ever understand. It made Priest quail slightly, shrinking under the pressure of an Immortal’s focus. “She is under my protection and in my custody. I will let no harm come to her nor let her bring harm to anyone else.”

Turning away from the Priest, Cole looked back at the shut passageway and continued. “Besides, the Court will have bigger problems than meting out petty reprisals. The survivors, if there are any, will be busy trying to survive the fallout of Glockmire’s death.”

Matthias just blinked and stared at Cole like the man had started speaking Gob-Tongue. Ignoring him, Cole turned back toward Natalie and started making plans. “I will need to find my equipment, and you will need to start packing for our journey.” Then after another moment of hesitation, Cole addressed Matthias again. “If I bring Wilhelm's body, could he be buried tomorrow?”

Pregnant silence filled the mortuary for a moment before Matthias nodded in assent. “I’ve had terrible dreams the past two nights. Dreams of cold and death that spoke of what might happen. In my dreams, I heard him; I heard Master Times commands. He said to gather clothing for you two and to prepare for a funeral. I did as our God wished and have waited here since twilight. We will bury Wilhelm before the day is out.”

At those words, Cole moved towards the door, gently pulling Natalie behind him. The newly turned Vampire accepted the help without complaint. Matthias’s words had robbed Natalie of what little strength she had left. As they started to leave, Matthias called after them.

“Natalie. I don’t know if what the Paladin says is true, but I hope it is. Hold onto your humanity because your very soul itself will be trying to cast it aside.”

Not meeting his eyes, Natalie just nodded at his words. Oh, how true they were. Matthias didn’t even know half of it.

They left the mortuary and the Temple. Stepping into the predawn streets of Glockmire. Idly, Natalie wondered if they would change the town name with the Lord dead. The first hints of pale sunlight were visibly cresting the distant peaks, and the town was still asleep. Taking the familiar path from the Temple to the Silly Goat was disconcerting for Natalie. Looking around, it was like nothing had changed. Just another fall morning in the town of her birth. But for her, everything had changed. This place wasn’t truly home anymore. It had been where she’d lived a human life, but that was over.

As they walked, Natalie asked Cole. “I really have to leave, don't I?”

Cole squeezed her hand gently and answered. “Yes, we are now both being hunted. They will do so on the principle of me being a Paladin and you being a Vampire who aided me. Our presence will bring nothing good to this town. That's not even considering if the Courts realize what you now host. Drakovich and his rivals will want that power. Getting out of the Blood Duchies and out of their reach is crucial.”

Natalie had known or guessed most of what Cole said, but she just wanted to double-check. While she’d been thinking about leaving Glockmire for weeks now, having that choice thrust upon her in these circumstances made it suddenly very bitter.

They arrived at the Silly Goat and found its door still open. Cautiously they entered the chilly building and found Wilhelms body. Someone had laid a white sheet over the corpse, something Natalie was incredibly grateful for. She had no desire to see her Father’s body. Without prompting, Cole picked up the corpse, keeping it wrapped in its shroud. Natalie couldn’t bear to look at the body. Instead, whispering softly as Cole left. “Goodbye, Dad. I’ll always love you.”

Stepping past the bloodstain on the floor, Natalie walked deeper into Silly Goat. The building was much like her father's body. A cold empty reminder of something once wonderful. Absently Natalie traced her fingers along the carved banister, and other bits of woodcraft she and her mother had made. While she knew she should be packing, Natalie knew she needed to take this moment. A moment that was quickly broken by the clatter of dishes from the kitchen. Natalie froze and whirled towards the sound. Irrationally wanting the sound to be her father. Fearing it would be a Vampire or their servants. It was neither. Stockings sat on the counter, looking at Natalie with an inquisitive expression.

Smiling sadly, Natalie stepped towards the Cat; Stockings tensed at her approach. Taking a more wary stance. Grimacing, Natalie realized the Cat knew she had changed. Making a clicking noise with her tongue, Natalie slowly approached Stockings. Wary and uncertain, the Cat held still but was ready to scurry away. Eventually, Natalie ran a hand along the Cat’s back, and the familiar gesture got Stockings to relax. Petting the Cat for a few minutes, Natalie realized she needed to do something with Stockings. They couldn’t take the Cat with them, but leaving her here in this now dead building was wrong. An idea struck Natalie, one that solved a number of problems at once if she dared make a gamble.

Slowly, so as to not alarm Stockings, Natalie picked up the feline and left the Silly Goat. The walk to Barnbas’s shop was even more familiar than the walk to the Temple. Clutching the mildly annoyed cat to her breast, Natalie arrived at the store and knocked loudly on the door. After a few moments, she knocked again. Still, nothing happened, and by the third knock, Natalie was fearing the worst. Before fear could truly take hold, Natalie’s newly sensitive ears heard the sound of muffled curses coming from inside the store.

Smiling as the tension left her, Natalie ignored the squirming cat in her arms. Now was the moment of truth. A familiar sleep-addled voice called out to her. “Who the Jag is it!”

Taking in a deep pointless breath to steady herself, Natalie answered. “It’s me, Barnabas. I’m back”

There was silence for a time before the sound of locks and deadbolts being undone reached Natalie. Slowly the door opened a crack, just enough for Barnabas to see Natalie on his front step. Calmly, Barnabas asked her. “What did I give you at your sixth birthday party?”

Natalie actually laughed at that. “You missed my sixth birthday party. You were on the road with the last merchant convoy you were part of. But when you got back, you gave me a dress I had outgrown in a month.”

Barnabas yanked the door open. Wearing day-old clothing and generally ungroomed, Barnabas looked terrible. But that wasn’t what caught Natalie’s attention. In the crook of one arm was a Crossbow tipped with a silver bolt. She never knew he had such a weapon but was glad he did. Barnabas’s exhausted smile of relief upon seeing Natalie died as quickly as it arrived. The blood-red eyes and fang of his niece killed it. Barnabas started to lift his crossbow against her but stopped.

With a defeated sigh, he let the weapon drop to the ground and simply said. “So Cole failed. I… I had hoped. Well, fine, let's get this over with.”

Barnabas shut his eyes and expected death. Instead, he got a face full of fur. Surprised, he looked to see Natalie holding out Stockings, pressing the cat to his chest. Confused and operating on instinct, Barnabas took the Cat into his arms. Looking up at Natalie, he was mystified.

Natalie just smiled sadly and said. “Cole didn’t fail. I’m a Vampire Barnabas, but I’m not one of them. I’m still me.”

Barnabas was still confused, so Natalie elaborated. “Cole rescued me… Well, we kind of rescued each other. But what matters is I’m not like them. When the Court creates a Vampire, they do everything they can to destroy the good in that person. Cole stopped them from doing that to me, and he’s going to help me.”

Looking away from Barnabas’s eyes and towards Stockings, Natalie continued. “I’m not a monster, but I could become one. So I can’t stay here. I’m going to go with Cole and find a way to be a Vampire and a good person.” Gesturing at the cat, Natalie explained why she had brought the feline with her. “I can’t take Stockings with me, and… well, I thought her company might help you.”

Barnabas set the Feline down, giving her a scratch behind the ears as he did. Then he reached out and hugged Natalie. The surprised Vampire hadn’t expected that but returned the embrace. After a second, Barnabas pulled away from her slightly and looked her in the eyes, forcing himself to not flinch away from the faintly glowing scarlet he saw there.

“The bastard who killed your father, did you get him?” asked Barnabas, his earlier shock fading as the reality of the situation sunk in.

Natalie actually smiled. “Yes, and pretty much every other Vampire in the Castle.” Natalie’s smile died as she elaborated on the chaos she and Cole caused. “Things are going to change around here, Barnabas. Lord Glockmire and the Vampire who killed Dad are both dead. The other Nobles won’t take that news well. It's in part why I need to leave.”

Barnabas absorbed that information with a nervous gulp. Sighing in resignation, he looked back into his store and ignored the Cat rubbing against his ankles. “You will need to leave quickly, but I am sure I can gather up you and Cole some supplies.”

“Thank you” was Natalie’s response; as Barnabas turned to work, she continued. “We are going to bury my Father before we leave.”

That got Barnabas to pause for a second before he nodded and got back to his task. Natalie stood in the doorway just watching him work. Seeing the old man bustle about for what was probably the last time brought a strange mix of emotions to Natalie. There was melancholy in spades but also a sense of resolution. Events had forced Natalie to make her choice, and with that choice came new certainty. A grim but solid feeling she could fall back onto in the face of overwhelming loss.

After a minute or two, Natalie stepped inside the store and felt a strange tingle on her skin. A pins and needles sensation that lasted for less than a second before it faded. Confused and wary, Natalie stepped out of the building. Tentatively, she passed back through the doorway and felt the same sensation. As it faded, realization struck Natalie. Vampires couldn’t enter a place without invitation, and Barnabas had never properly let her into the shop. Now a little nervous, Natalie waited for the unpleasant feeling to return, but it didn’t. However, her body felt a little sluggish, and her senses were somewhat dulled. As an Alukah Vampire, she wasn’t truly prevented from entering uninvited, but breaking that taboo did not come without consequences.

Taking this into account, Natalie reached down to pet Stockings and waited for Barnabas to finish up. It didn’t take the old Merchant long. He returned to her with a large pack slung over one shoulder and a short scabbard in his other hand. Setting the pack down, Barnabas explained what was inside it.

“Sleeping bag, rope, pitons, dried rations, two canteens, flint and tinder, Maps, bandages, some choice ointments, a new lily soap I set aside for you, and this.” he held out the scabbard to Natalie. Gingerly she took the weapon and unsheathed it. About as long as her forearm and completely straight was an unusual short-sword. It lacked a cross guard, and its scabbard was made from some sturdy dark wood. The tip of the blade was a clean point that shone brightly, and Natalie reached out an experimental finger to touch it. It felt like she’d just touched a hot stove. Pulling her hand back in surprise, Natalie realized the short-swords tip was coated in silver.

Barnabas winced as he saw Natalie singe her finger. It seemed her resistance to most Vampire’s banes didn’t extend to silver. Sheathing the shortsword, Natalie asked. “What is it?”

“A Dueling Spatha from the White Isles. An old family heirloom of mine. Never got much use out of it but figured you might.”

Natalie looked at the weapon and started to say. “Barnabas, I can’t!-” the old merchant cut her off. “What am I going to do with it? Give it to a Son I don’t have? You're the only family I have left in this world, Natalie. I might not be able to protect you, but that doesn't mean I can’t give you something to help you protect yourself.”

Nodding in surrender, Natalie picked up the pack and the shortsword. With them both in place, She hugged Barnabas and left for the Silly Goat. Her adopted Uncle watched her go with a new cat in his arms and tears in his eyes.

Weighed down by her pack and emotions, Natalie walked slowly through the streets of Glockmire. Drinking in the sights for perhaps the final time as the Sun slowly crested the mountain peaks. Pale daybreak started to bleed into golden dawn; as the first Roosters crowed, and the day arrived in earnest. From her place on the street, Natalie could watch the Sun’s light move towards her as it crested the peaks and buildings. Shutting her eyes to the approaching dawn, she murmured under her breath.

“Moment of Truth.”

Dawn struck Natalie like a hammer blow. Instantly she felt a wave of exhaustion hit her. Accompanying it was a faint prickling feeling on her exposed skin. A minor but constant itch that reminded Natalie of hot summers and sunburn. Opening her eyes, Natalie winced at the light; it made her very eyes ache. Blinking away the pain, she looked down at her hands and focused on the prickly itch. It felt like the lead-up to a Sunburn but didn’t quite hurt like the actual thing. Trying to stifle the exhaustion that now weighed her down, Natalie shrugged and kept walking.

“Could be worse,” she said to no one in particular as she readjusted her dress to cover more skin.

By the time she got back to the Silly Goat, Natalie was about ready to pass out from the sheer weariness of being in the Sun. She dragged herself up to her room and started packing. As she did, the call of her bed became an irresistible siren song. Every minute or so, Natalie would find her focus drawn back to the familiar sheets and blanket. Her mind interpreting the Vampiric Torpor as mundane sleepiness. The temptation to crawl into her bed and enjoy its familiar comfort one final time was almost debilitating in its intensity. The desire and her own exhaustion gnawed on Natalie’s self-control with every second.

As she found herself slowly drifting towards the bed, Natalie forced herself to pause and think. All of Petar’s minions had used the Alukah’s blood to stay awake in the day without issue. She was now the Alukah, or something close to it. Her exhaustion made no sense! The unfairness of that pricked at Natalie. Dredging up her infamous stubbornness. Forcing herself to stand, Natalie thought about this. Something didn’t add up, and she wasn’t about to let it go.

Natalie knew Vampires had a variety of magical powers powered by stolen blood. She, however, didn’t know how to use any of these abilities or if she even had any available. After all, she had barely been a Vampire for a day. Maybe the mysterious potential she’d inherited would take weeks or even months to show its head. With leaden arms and heavier eyelids, Natalie realized she didn’t necessarily have that time. Cole could only do so much to protect her, and Natalie was damned if she became a millstone around his neck. Whether she liked it or not, Natalie was a Vampire now. One with the power of a primordial monster, Natalie Striga was not about to ignore the opportunities that came with this curse.

Thinking about her current…state of existence and the events that led to it dredged up ugly memories of Natalie’s transformation. In the morass of pain and fear those memories summoned, something caught Natalie’s attention. An offhanded comment about her Mother and her family. How Natalie came from a lineage cultivated to have natural talent for Blood Magic. A talent that Natalie was fairly certain she tapped into once before with Cole’s Spark-Stone. She’d used her innate skill before she’d become a Vampire. Could she do it again?

So Natalie pieced together her experiences with magic and made an educated guess. Shutting her eyes, reached inside of herself and found what she’d been looking for. The empty ocean inside of her soul. Which, as she looked, was not entirely empty. At its heart, in the center of the great basalt plain, was a puddle of blood. Cole’s blood. Stolen and stored for later use. Still not entirely certain on what she was doing, Natalie reached for the blood and imagined herself feeling energized.

The effect was instantaneous. Natalie felt like she’d been dunked in ice-water, force-fed a pound of raw sugar, and having an anxiety attack all at once. Letting out an undignified yelp, Natalie stumbled backward and landed on her butt. The overwhelming energy sent her limbs spasming and her mind racing. Thoughts racing at a kilometer a count bombarded Natalie, and she felt like she was about to pass out from sheer overstimulation. But in this mess of overactive body and mind, Natalie could feel her reserve of blood rapidly emptying. The small puddle of ichor inside her was shrinking with every second. Natalie panicked at that sight. She didn’t want to think what would happen if she ran out of blood while alone in the middle of town.

With a bit of mental effort, Natalie stopped the blood’s flow and let the exhaustion hit her again. The whiplash was enough to make Natalie’s head spin. The amount of blood this effort had consumed was shocking…but so were the results. Carefully, Natalie tried again, trying to pour only a few drops of her stolen blood into the effort. The weariness started to fade, and with a few more drops, it was totally gone. Blinking her eyes in surprise, Natalie stood up and flexed her limbs. Testing them and finding she’d found a palatable balance.

Shutting her eyes and letting out a defeated sigh, Natalie turned to her room and packed. She needed to get to work. Experimenting with what exactly she could do could come later. For now, she was safe from falling asleep or being consumed by her hunger. While she needed to spend blood to stay awake and focused, it was a small amount. It would be nightfall before she needed to feed. Which was another whole bag of worries she needed to sort out.

Cole had walked the empty streets of Glockmire and delivered Wilhelm to Matthias. The Priest had taken the body into his custody and said to return to the Temple when its bells were rung. Cole accepted that and left the Temple. He had other matters to attend to. In the pre-dawn light, Cole gazed up at Castle Glockmire and let out an annoyed sigh. He needed to get his equipment back. He also needed to find Isabelle. That thought sent a twinge of guilt through the Paladin.

Things had advanced with Natalie far far far quicker than he’d imagined. Leaving him in a very confusing and shameful position. In his time alive, Cole had never once thought about something like this. Being in love with two different women, who both loved him, and were both dead. While Isabelle was certainly more dead than Natalie, she wasn’t completely gone. That fact that had helped push the Paladin forward for years was now weighing heavily upon him. He couldn’t abandon what remained of her, but he also couldn’t ignore his feelings for Natalie.

Covering his eyes with a well-calloused hand and letting out a deep sigh. Cole knew all he could do was move forward. So he set out to the Castle to retrieve what he’d lost and maybe get some final answers.

He took the switchback up to the Castles backdoor and pulled on the massive oaken doors. They hadn’t been barred, which was what Cole had expected. Between the Vampire’s arrogance and his own God’s influence greasing the wheels of fortune. Cole had guessed he was in for that much of a lucky break. What did surprise Cole was how easy the doors were to move. They were hulking solid things meant to withstand an actual battering ram. But they swung open like simple wooden shutters. Cole idly wondered at the engineering or magic at work there.

Inside, Cole found the small atrium he’d been to before and its myriad of doors leading deeper into the Castle. No sign of his pack or Isabelle in the chamber. He would need to go deeper, and Cole had no desire to do that unarmed. He’d left his stolen halberd back at the Temple and didn’t think his boot knife would cut it. Glancing around the room, Cole noticed a single suit of armor standing in the corner. Cole wandered over to the armor and lifted up its visor. Alabaster bone stared him back. Before the Eternal Legionnaire could awake, Cole slammed his fist into the open visor. He’d expected to knock the Rattler back and get time to dismantle it. Instead, his fist shattered bone and bent metal. Instantly destroying the Rattler.

Stunned, Cole looked at the fallen Undead for a moment before he filched its Pole Axe. As a “perfect specimen,” as Isabelle had called him, Cole’s physical attributes were at the very peak a normal human could reach. Looking down at the crushed helmet, Cole knew he’d surpassed that already high bar. The only question was how?

Testing the Pole Axe’s balance, Cole knew the answer was obvious but also opaque. When he’d used up his soul in that final attack on the Feeder, his regeneration had been different. He’d healed far faster than normal and with fewer scars. There was also the aggression he’d shown upon awakening, and now this enhanced strength. Something had changed, and it worried Cole. He now had a more practical reason to find Isabelle’s skull. She was perhaps the only person in existence with answers.

Taking the salvaged Pole Axe, Cole nicked his forearm and cast a simple tracking spell. One meant to find his pack and weapon. The connection of his blood pushed through the simple secrecy enchantment and guided Cole to his prize. A glob of blood slithered up into his palm and floated into the air. Stretching out slightly in the direction of his quarry. A crimson compass needle suspended in his hand. For the next ten minutes, he stalked through the deserted halls of Castle Glockmire. Following his morbid compass to his prize.

There was no movement nor any defenses. The Castle Guard had been expended against Cole and Dietrich. The thralls were in hiding, dead or possibly comatose. Thralls to a Vampire who was heavy-handed in their mental control risked all sorts of ugly side effects if their master died. Vampires exactly the type of Monster Cole had cleaved through earlier in his “last stand.”

Eventually, Cole found himself in a storage room of sorts. A small chamber filled with packages, crates, and over-burdened wooden shelves. On one of those shelves lay a familiar set of belongings. Laid out like bones awaiting reassembly were the contents of his pack. Someone had carefully removed everything in his backpack and set them out for later examination. Including his Halberd, his Spark-Stone, and Isabelle’s skull. Breathing a sigh of relief, Cole dismissed his tracking spell and got to work repacking his belongings.

After a minute or so of this, Cole slung the familiar weight over his shoulder and picked up his halberd. Giving the room one final glance, Cole noticed two things of note. Next to his equipment was a small silver hair-clip shaped as a bird in flight. Cole pocketed the ornament and walked over to the other interest. A stack of sturdy-looking black fabric. Smiling to himself, Cole took off his shredded cloak and grabbed the fabric. With a few spilled drops of blood, his cloak had absorbed the fabric and repaired itself. Enjoying the comfortable embrace of his newly patched garment, Cole left the storage room.

Someone was waiting for him in the hallway outside. Cole instantly leveled his halberd at the thin waifish looking woman standing before him. Clad in a simple dress and looking positively unwell, the woman had short red hair and weary blue eyes. Cole thought he recognized her from somewhere but knew not where.

The woman looked at Cole for a second before asking in a thin voice. “Are you the Restbringer?”

Cole nodded in confirmation, and the Woman's posture changed slightly. She seemed to relax and tense at the same time. “I am Yara, servant of Sir Dietrich. Where is he?”

It clicked then for Cole. He’d seen her the day he’d first met the Scarlet Knight. Hiding in his shadows when he’d entered the sitting room they’d met in. Now in the dim light of the hallway, Cole could barely make out the small pattern of scars on Yara’s neck and arms. She was Dietrichs blood-slave and a loyal one at that. Having risked exposing herself to ask Cole about his fate.

Cole wanted to lie and tell the woman her master was dead, but his old instinct for honesty won out. “He is in a secret crypt below the Castle. Dietrich has been magically frozen and might never awake even if he were to be thawed out. If there were a time to flee, it would be now.”

Yara stiffened at that and narrowed her eyes at Cole. “He’s my master. He took me in when no one else would. Sir Dietrich gave me a purpose and… and he spared my life when he spent others. I will not abandon him in his hour of need.”

Cole simply sighed in resignation. He knew what Yara felt all too well. Cole reached to his collar and pulled it down to show his own scars to Yara. Recognition shone in the Thrall’s eyes. She understood Cole’s message. Gently, Cole elaborated.

“I know what it's like to be bound to one of them. To be… loved by one of them. I also know what it's like to be consumed and discarded by them. I’ve seen both sides of the coin, Miss Yara, and I’ve met plenty of people who didn’t know which side they stood upon. I don’t know enough about your connection with Dietrich to judge. But I do know now would be the time for you to evaluate where you stand.”

Yara’s eyes flicked away from Cole in a moment of doubt. Which Cole knew was about as much as he could expect from her. Walking down the hallway and passing the Blood-Slave, Cole left her with some carefully chosen words. “You don’t need another to give you purpose, Miss Yara. In fact, no one but yourself can do that. So think about what has happened and consider the possibilities.”

Wise words, but ones also reeking of hypocrisy. Cole had learned many truths in his relatively short life but had not learned to apply many of them. He was still bound to a Vampire, two of them now, in fact. While his purpose in life sprung from divine commission. Those sour truths in mind, Cole left Castle Glockmire. Praying he’d never enter its blighted depths again.

By now, the Sun had risen, and the first hints of life were returning to the town. The clatter of dishes, the crow of roosters, and other markers of early risers. Cole ignored them as he returned to the Silly Goat. He found Natalie in the tavern, sitting at a table and staring at the space where Wilhelm’s body had laid. Worried red eyes flicked up to Cole, softening as she realized who was at the doorway. The new couple smiled tentatively at each other, and Cole moved over towards her.

“Matthias said the Temple Bells will ring when it's time,” said Cole, setting his pack down and sitting next to Natalie.

The drained Vampire chewed on her lip, showing her fangs. “The Temple has a bunch of different ways to ring the bell, each with different meanings. Matthias means to give Dad a proper funeral. The town will be there.”

That prospect seemed to stress Natalie. Looking at her red eyes and fangs, Cole understood why. Matthias had reacted reasonably, all things considered to her current state. Being chased from her own Father’s funeral by her friends and neighbors would be another layer to the sickening amount of Trauma she’d experienced.

Shutting her eyes in resignation, Natalie spoke. “I’ve spent the last little bit trying to disguise my eyes. I saw Lorena do it, and I should be able to as well. But no matter what I try, I can’t do it!”

Absently, Cole reached into his bag and grabbed out a roll of bandages. Taking a length of the thin cloth, Cole gently said to Natalie. “Close your eyes.”

Confused but willing to trust him, Natalie did as he asked. Cole wrapped the bandage around Natalies’s eyes in a makeshift blindfold. Instead of tying the cloth, he used the recovered hair clip to fasten the bandage in place. As his hands moved away, Natalie gasped at the familiar weight. She reached up to touch her returned memento but stopped herself. It was made of silver, something she could no longer touch. A pained noise escaped Natalie at that realization.

Soothingly Cole said. “In Vindabon, there will be metal smiths who can coat the ornament in gold or another metal.”

That got a slight pained chuckle from Natalie. Opening her eyes, she looked at Cole and was surprised at how well she could see through the bandage. The thin cloth obscured her supernatural vision much less than she’d ever have guessed. Placing a gentle hand on her knee, Cole continued.

“Vindabon has some of the best scholars on the continent. We can get answers about the Alukah there and maybe some insights on how to use your abilities.” pausing slightly, Cole then awkwardly asked. “I’ve never gone to the Opera in the city. I should be able to get us tickets. Would you like to go?”

That got an actual laugh from Natalie. For two-fold reasons. The box of coins and jewels hidden in her pack would more than guarantee they could afford tickets. While the timidity the seasoned Undead-hunter had in his voice was so endearing. Cole was asking her on a date in his own obtuse way.

Natalie nodded in ascent and then did something stupid. “Could I see Isabelle’s skull?”

That got Cole’s demeanor to shift, but after a tentative second, he reached into his pack and retrieved the Vampire skull. Nervously he handed it to Natalie. Holding the cold bone, Natalie picked her words.

“I don’t know how this is going to work, the two of us. But I’m I want to try” looking down at the skull, Natalie’s forehead creased in a frown. “I don’t know if it's possible for her to return, but we will cross that bridge if we come to it. For now… you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

Cole understood the message was not just for him but for the spirit of Isabelle hidden in the skull. Slowly, Cole nodded in agreement. Seeing this, Natalie handed the skull back to Cole. As she did, one of its fangs pricked her finger. Yelping in pain, Natalie looked down at her finger, seeing the drop of black blood that had welled up quickly becoming new skin. Muttering more to herself than anyone else, “I don’t know if I will get used to that.”

Frowning slightly at what happened, Cole tucked the skull away. That was another mystery to add to the growing pile. Cole was about to comment on it when the deep sonorous bells of the Temple echoed through Glockmire. Natalie and Cole looked at each other, surprise and trepidation on their faces. They knew Matthias had already done most of the preparations in advance, but this was still quick.

Slowly they got up, picking up their equipment and heading to the door. As they reached it, Natalie paused and pulled her make-shift blindfold down. Looking over her childhood home, Natalie felt a lump form in her throat. Blood-Red eyes flitted over the empty inn. Drinking its sight in one last time. Cold and dim, the Silly Goat was a shadow of what it was supposed to be. For decades the Inn had been in the Striga family, and generations had poured love and commitment into this building. That time was over now. The Silly Goat had died alongside Wilhelm.

In barely more than a whisper, Natalie addressed the building and the life that it represented. “Goodbye.”

Turning away, Natalie promised herself she’d remember the Inn not as it was now but as it had been. A place of light, warmth, laughter, and good company. So for the last time, Natalie left the Silly Goat. Saying goodbye to one empty shell and heading to the Temple to say goodbye to another.

They didn’t talk as they made their way through the waking streets of Glockmire. Clad in black traveling cloaks and haunted by grim purpose, Cole and Natalie made an eerie sight. Townsfolk who were slowly leaving the safety of their own homes shied away from the duo. With their hoods up, they looked like a pair of Psychopomps charting a course of death and loss. Which, all things considered, was not all that off from the truth.

By the time they reached the Temple, the street was filled with a small stream of confused citizens. Each of them looked around and wondered the obvious question, “Who Died?” The Temple Bells had signaled there was to be a funeral, but not for who. The past few days had not been kind to the usually sleepy town. Disappearances and Deaths had rocked Glockmire as the consequences of Petar’s Coup reached every element of the town.

The growing crowd parted for Cole and Natalie. None wanted to get too close to the strange figures in these dark times. One exception came from Barnabas; the weary-looking Old Man had been leaning against the Temple fence and now idled over to the pair. He gave Cole a curt nod and Natalie another hug.

She accepted it gladly and pulled down her hood on reflex. A few surprised gasps echoed from the surrounding crowd. Natalie grimaced, careful to not let her teeth show. It must have looked like she’d been blinded. Few Priests or other Mages had the magical skill to heal such an injury. With none Glockmire remotely capable of such a feat. Internally Natalie wondered how they would react if they knew what truly had happened to her.

Ending the hug with Barnabas, Natalie looked around at all the curious faces. She knew all of them, if not by name, by sight. Realizing they were all looking to her for answers, Natalie made another foolish decision. She told her neighbors the truth or at least part of it.

“This funeral is for my Father.” the crowd barely reacted to that; it had been two days since Wilhelm had been murdered, and the news must have spread. “He was murdered by a Vampire for the crime of trying to protect me” that got some surprised murmurs, but again the people must have heard some whispers about that. Natalie doubted they would know anything about what she would say next.

“The Vampire responsible sought to overthrow Lord Glockmire. In a scheme, I helped Rest-Bringer Cole uncover. Because of this, he attempted to kill both of us. He failed, but his scheme did not. Lord Glockmire is dead and most, if not all of the Court with him.”

Stunned silence filled the Temple grounds. Nothing could have prepared the people around her for that news. Hells, Natalie wasn’t even prepared, and she’d lived through it. “The Usurper was Petar the Steward, who sought to take the Lord's power and rebel against the Duke. He was stopped by the will of Master Time. Who saw fit to send one of his champions to defend this town and its people.”

At that, Natalie gestured towards Cole. The Paladin froze, not expecting any of this and not knowing exactly what the Jag Natalie was doing. If she noticed, Natalie didn’t pay his reaction any mind. “That bastard Petar was behind the Breach three years ago. He caused all that death as an experiment. He was cultivating monsters using our flesh and blood, monsters now destroyed by Cole. Chief among those monsters was Petar himself.”

The confused babble of the crowd started to grow frantic. Natalie gently traced her bandaged eyes and said. “I got revenge for my Father, my Mother, and everyone else Petar took from us. But I paid bitterly for the opportunity. I’ve lost much in the last few days, and I fear losing more. I’m leaving Glockmire with Cole, to protect everyone from any vengeful Vampires and to get aid for my… condition.” another thing that was technically true but still a questionable interpretation of events.

The crowd seemed to still at that. Just as Natalie knew them all in some small way, they knew her. Twirling around to look at all the familiar faces through her bandages, Natalie finished. “So please do me the favor of helping me bury my father and honoring his memory.”

After a few seconds, the returning silence was broken by a deep rumbling voice. “The Strigas have been a backbone of our town for as long as anyone can remember. I can’t say I’m happy to see young Ms. Natalie leave, but I understand her reasoning. The worlds gone and bloody well changed on us far too quickly for my liking. But that doesn’t mean we can’t give ol’Wilhelm a proper send-off and Natalie a true goodbye.”

The voice belonged to Matko, the stalwart miner standing flanked by his family. Including young Filip, who stared up at Cole with wide awe-filled eyes. As Matko’s words echoed through the crowd, murmurs of agreement spread with them. A murmur that grew louder and louder as the people of Glockmire agreed with Matko.

Just then, the Temple doors swung open, and the town's Priests exited. Gellam the High Priest, in service to Mother Earth, was at the center. Flanked by Matthias on his left and Trude on his right. The Priest of Master Time was startled to see Natalie in the center of the crowd. She stood in the late morning Sunset unbothered by what should have been a death sentence. Trude, by contrast, had eyes only for Cole. The Priestess was glaring daggers at the Paladin. Unconsciously Cole gulped nervously. It seemed Loom-Matron Trude had a bone to pick with him.

Clearing his throat to get the crowd's focus, Gellam spoke in a clear voice perfected by years of sermons. “We are gathered on this hallowed ground to honor our friend and neighbor Wilhelm Striga. Today we will deliver his body to the earth, his soul to the beyond, and his memory into our hearts.”

Stepping into the crowd, Gellam continued a speech too often rehearsed. “I need six volunteers. Folk willing to shoulder the fallen’s burden.”

Barnabas stepped forward first, followed by Matko and then four more friends and acquaintances of Wilhelm. Gellam gave Barnabas a questioning look, clearly worried the old man was not up to being a pallbearer. A truly vicious glare from the merchant shut down any possible dissent. He was going to help bury Wilhelm, even if it was the last thing he did. The six pallbearers went into the temple to collect the casket. Leaving Gellam to call for the next group of volunteers. “Who will help guide Wilhelm’s path?”

Natalie stepped forward now, followed by eleven others. Each was passed a candle by an acolyte. The twelve took positions, forming a chain from the temple door to the graveyard. Natalie taking the last place, standing at the cleared patch of ground reserved for her father. This would be the second time she’d helped guide a parent to the grave. The task hadn’t gotten any easier.

A faint pop caught Natalie’s attention as the candle in her hands ignited. It's flame a flickering ghostly blue. Supposedly these candles burned incredibly bright in the Aether. Calling out to a dead soul and helping them move on. Absently Natalie decided she would need to ask Cole if that was true later.

Looking up from the candle, Natalie saw the pallbearers approaching. Following the trail she and her fellow light-bearers had made. As the coffin passed, each candle snuffed out, leaving a faint whirl of smoke in the coffin’s wake. Stoney-faced Barnabas had one of the front positions on the coffin, his face remote and unnaturally calm. Natalie could guess he was forcing himself to not cry. She wasn’t the only one to participate in both her parent's funerals. Slowly but surely, the coffin reached Natalie. The six pallbearers gently sent the dark wood onto the ground. As the wood settled onto the graveyard's cold soil, Natalie’s candle went out.

Matthias approached the coffin and kneeled before it. Gellam took position opposite of him, and the two Priests set their hands on the wood. They started to chant, each with a different song that somehow blended together in a strange harmony. Natalie felt pressure against her being, the stolen blood inside of her rippling under the waves of power emanating from the priests. Slowly the ground started to shift, the soil becoming almost liquid under some magical influence. The coffin sunk into the ground like a piece of driftwood pulled under by some unseen current.

The earth accepted the coffin, parting for its passage. Leaving an open grave in its wake. Held open only by the two priests' magic. Barnabas stepped up to the grave and pulled two things from his pocket. A tarnished silver coin and a shot glass. He dropped both into the grave, where they made a clink and clatter.

Next, it was Natalie’s turn. Stepping forward, Natalie pulled the three times from her pack she’d prepared. First were the two small wooden statues her Mother had carved for her parents' ten-year anniversary. They fell into the grave with a solid clunk. The third was a worn old blanket, something Natalie had tucked away years ago. A memento from her childhood, a blanket her Dad had wrapped her in on one cold night when she’d been scared. It symbolized the safety she felt from her father, and it seemed appropriate to bury the blanket with him.

Trying desperately not to cry, Natalie turned away from the grave and wandered a few steps away. Behind her, a slow procession of people made small offerings. Coins for unpaid bar tabs. Silverware accidentally taken home. Little things that people had brought that symbolized their connections to Wilhelm. Natalie watched a few people dash home to get offerings. These were the ones who hadn’t guessed who the funeral was for. Out of the corner of her eyes, Natalie watched Cole approach the grave. Curious about his contribution, Natalie saw him drop a handful of coins into the grave.

Turning away from his offering, Cole slowly approached Natalie. Unsure if he should give her space or not. When she took his offered hand and limply leaned against him, Cole got his answer. In a tired monotone, Natalie asked, “What were the coins for?”

Cole shrugged slightly “Payment for room and board.”

Natalie actually snorted in laughter, which quickly turned into barely controlled sobs. Today Natalie fought her tears not out of misplaced pride but fear of exposure. The fact she could not truly cry as a Vampire made the threat of breaking down sobbing dangerous. Cole put a comforting around Natalie and hugged her. Letting her nestle her face into his chest. Gently he whispered to her, “You can cry now. No one can see.”

That broke the dam. Natalie burst into heavy wracking sobs. It had all been so much. Too damn much. All the loss, all the madness, all the pain. Natalie felt the weight of it all crushing her like grain under a millstone. Her very being ground down by a series of traumas that showed no signs of ending. Natalie cried in the strange dry sobs of a Vampire for the rest of the offerings. Only recovering herself some when the mourners started to sing.

A low dirge in garbled Saint-Speech. Carried on the lips of the hundreds of people who’d come to the funeral. Matthias was leading the song, and his eyes caught Natalies. He nodded towards the grave. Something that would clearly give away her ruse, but Natalie didn’t really care now.

Stepping next to the grave, Natalie joined the song. Looking down at the small mountain of offerings that completely covered her father’s casket. A tangible marker of the respect the community had for him. As the song reached its climax, the two priests by the grave relaxed their magic. Letting the soil flow back into place and cover the casket. As they did, Natalie felt another deep thrum of power. A yanking sensation at her core, like something distant, had been snapped.

Cole stepped next to Natalie and whispered. “This might sting a little, but I want you to see what I do.”

He set a hand on the back of her neck, and she felt a sharp chill enter her body. Letting out a surprised gasp, Natalie blinked her covered eyes against the pain. As she refocused, she noticed something strange. Silver mist seeped up out of the grave, a steady stream like smoke from a hidden fire. The mist drifted up and up, fading away as it did. For a split second, Natalie swore she saw an outline in the fog. The shape of a man's hand outstretched to her. On instinct, Natalie reached out and let her hand touch where she thought the outline had been.

For the first time since her death, Natalie felt truly warm. A bone-deep warmth that brought forth memories of her Father’s soup, the Silly Goat’s fireplace, and the blanket now buried. The feeling passed, and it left Natalie breathless. Stopping the useless instinct in its place out of sheer surprise.

Cole let go of Natalie’s neck, and the mist instantly disappeared. Gently, Cole said. “It's rare to see that. A soul strong-willed enough to persist for a few seconds untethered and uncorrupted. I don’t know what he gave you, but I’m glad he could.”

Uncertain of herself, Natalie asked. “That… that was him?”

Cole nodded and explained. “It's tricky but not impossible for most people to catch glimpses of a soul being released. I see more than a glimpse without really trying, and I wondered if I could share that. I’ve never tried forming a bridge like that, but I assume it worked?”

Not fully processing Cole’s words, Natalie asked again. “That was really him?”

Cole looked up to where the last bits of silver fog had faded away and answered. “Yes, that was your father’s soul.”

Awe and phantom warmth filled Natalie's still heart. “Thank you, Cole-”

Shouts and a scuffle interrupted her. The duo and everyone else at the ending funeral turned around to see a man pushing his way through the crowd. Sallow-skinned and lanky the man wore the crisp black uniform of the Daymen, now disheveled and stained. Wild-Eyed and manic, the Daymen pushed toward Natalie, shouting, “Mistress! Mistress! I found you!”

Frigid dread hit Natalie far, far harder than the little icy chill Cole’s miracle had provoked. With the court dead, the Daymen were now without leadership. Something their bent minds had been twisted to never accept. Cole had expected the Daymen and other thralls to flee, become comatose or otherwise carry on in denial of their master's death. He’d never expected this possibility.

Sandu, the gruff ferrier, stepped in the Daymen's way and snarled. “This is a bloody funeral, Gorrick! Have some shame, I don’t know what you’ve been drinking but go sleep it off!”

Gorrick didn’t seem to hear Sandu or ignored him. “Mistress, you must come with me! You are the only one left! The only Noble to carry both Lord’s blood!”

That got a stir from the crowd, who almost as one stepped away from Natalie and Gorrick in equal measure. In Glockmire, everyone knew what Noble meant. Another funeral goer, named Bogdan, shouted. “You were walking about without a cane or anything, Natalie. I saw you looking into the grave, you aren’t blind, are you!”

Five years ago, Natalie had shot Bogdan’s attempts to court her rather brutally. It seemed the little rat had found a time to get revenge in a truly spectacular way. All eyes on her, Natalie looked around. Her disguise failed even more with every second. Seeing no other option, Natalie reached up to her blindfold. Cole put a hand out to stop her. But she shooed it away gently.

Taking a deep breath, the first since seeing her father’s spirit. Natalie pulled the bandages away and showed the funeral her new eyes. A few startled gasps and even some panicked shouts broke out. Like a single living creature, the crowd pulled back from Natalie. Leaving only Cole, Barnabas, and the closing in Dayman near her. Free from Sandu’s grip, Gorrick ran towards Natalie. In a single smooth motion, Cole stepped forward and punched Gorrick clean in the face. The strike cut through the air with a resounding crack. The lunatic Dayman fell backward, knocked out by the horse-kick of a punch Cole delivered.

Blood spurted from Gorrick's broken nose, and with it came a colossal pang of hunger for Natalie. She looked away from the blood and only saw fear in the eyes of people she’d known her entire life. Flinching away from the sight, Natalie stepped behind Cole, trying to hide from the people around her.

Cole looked back to see the devastation on Natalie's face. It made Cole’s heartache. So he decided to do what came naturally to him; he told the truth. “Natalie is not a danger!” he said, his words echoing across the graveyard. “She was infected, fighting off a Vampire attempting to consume her. But the process did not go as planned. Complications brought on by Petar’s Coup, and some magical abnormalities stunted the Transformation. She is cursed but not Damned. The person you see standing next to me has red eyes and fangs, but she’s still Natalie Striga!”

Bogdan, ever the petty idiot, objected. “What proof do you have! How do we know she hasn’t bewitched you!”

Before Cole could respond, Barnabas did. “She’s standing in the fucking sunlight, you sheep-fondling moron! When’s the last time you saw a Vampire do that?”

Cole exchanged a grateful look with Barnabas before elaborating. “The weaknesses put upon Vampires are put there by the Gods as punishment. Chief among them, they burn in the Sun. A Vampire offered mercy by the Gods needs not fear the sun.”

That got some curious murmurs from the crowd. They had all read the Book of Miracle or had parts of it read to them. What Cole said lined up with conventional wisdom. So pressing the advantage, he said. “This is also why Natalie is forced to leave with me. She is willingly abandoning her home to protect you all.” Cole gestured at the Daymen. “This poor wretch and his like would have her become a monster like the Nobles. She could accept their offer, ruling over Glockmire as the sole remaining Vampire. But she won’t because despite what's been done to her, she’s a good person.”

Reaching towards his neck, Cole pulled his battered medallion free and held it up. Brilliant silver light shone from it, light powered by his soul and its connection to Master time. “I know this and swear by it as a Paladin of Master Time.”

Nobody moved as Cole’s declaration. The shock of Natalie’s nature being revealed hadn’t settled, so having another surprise of this magnitude just couldn’t sink in yet. At least for most of the people attending the funeral. For some, it explained much. Nestled between his siblings, little Filip looked up at Cole with pure-hero worship.

Slowly, Natalie stepped out from behind Cole, her head low in nervous fear. Softly she said. “I’m sorry for lying. I…I didn’t want to scare anyone.”

Matko then stepped forward, breaking the ring that surrounded Natalie, Cole, and Barnabas. He bowed slightly to Cole, unsure of the exact decorum for dealing with a Divine Champion. Internally Cole winced at that. He utterly hated the pomp and circumstance some people associated with his title.

Turning to Natalie, the gruff miner spoke seriously, “What I said to you at the Silly Goat still stands. You will always have a place in Glockmire Natalie. I don’t know what place that might be now with your…current state. But know our gates are still open to you.”

With a burst of superhuman speed, Natalie rushed forward and hugged Matko. Surprising both of them in equal parts. Natalie didn’t know what let her move that quickly, and she winced at the surprised grunt that came from Matko.

Gingerly releasing Matko, she stepped back towards Cole and said. “Thank you. That means more than I can possibly put into words.”

Matko just massaged his chest in surprise. Then shrugged and smiled. “You and Paladin Cole got justice for us. That means more than I can put into words.”

Gently this time, Natalie went over and gave Barnabas one last hug. “Look after Stockings for me,” she whispered to him and then broke the embrace.

Barnabas idled over to Cole and said gruffly. “I know you two are together now. So normally, I’d threaten to come back and haunt you if you hurt her. But…I guess to you, that's not as much of a threat to you. Still, look after her and prove my worries wrong.”

The two men shook hands awkwardly for a moment before Natalie took Cole’s free hand and started moving out of the graveyard. The crowd didn’t truly part like she expected. As they passed through, a forest of hands reached out to pat her or Cole’s back or shoulders. A wordless thank you. Despite all that had happened and everything revealed. Everyone in that crowd had lost someone to Petar’s machinations and would have lost more without Cole and Natalie's intervention. As they passed through the last of the crowd, the truth of that hit Natalie, and she held her head up a little higher.

Together the unlikely pair of Paladin of Death and newborn Vampire Queen left Glockmire. The sound of a few final hymns coming from the resumed funeral echoed through the clear Fall air. As they reached the Gate, Natalie looked at Cole and said. “To Vindabon?”

Cole smiled, squeezed her hand, and replied, “Together.”

Natalie returned the smile, looked out at the road, and said. “Together”