Bacorium Legacy by Nicholas Alexander
Chapter III
The Killing Moon
The scent of blood was heavy in the air.
He ran. He ran and ran and ran until his chest burned. Until his veins flowed with liquid fire. Until his eyes bled. And yet he continued to run.
Was he being hunted... or was he the one doing the hunting?
It didn't matter. He could feel the rush of adrenaline. His blade was at his side, ready to be drawn between two breaths. It was a hunt, and that was all that mattered.
Through trees, ducking and weaving, he ran. His feet scarcely touched the ground. He was running so fast he was practically floating.
It was exhilarating, yet terrifying at the same time.
His attacker appeared in a flash. He drew his blade immediately, and parried the attack that would have killed him. They exchanged several blows. They did the dance of blades, swinging and striking, each waiting for the precious moment when the other would make a mistake.
It was he who faltered first. Their blades met, and he was trapped in a parry. His opponent responded by producing a dagger with his free hand, which was used to impale him in the eye.
He screamed. The pain was unbearable. Blood ran down his cheek in tiny red rivers, dripping down to the earth below. But he did not stop fighting, not even for a moment. He was a warrior, and he would fight until he could not fight any more. Even with missing limbs, he would still bite, even if that was all he could do.
His pain and fury gave him strength. His attacks turned to the offencive, and he drove the enemy back. His opponent struggled to block his vicious strikes. Gradually, the tide turned in his favour. He struck a decisive blow. The enemy fell to the ground in defeat, and he mercilessly decapitated the foe.
Red blood flowed.
He stood over his enemy's corpse, a smiled stretched across his face. He breathed heavily, his skin tingled and glistened with sweat, and he gripped his sword firmly and with passion. The thrill of a kill; it was exhilarating.
He looked down at his dead enemy, noting the white hair and blue eyes. His very own.
And then he saw his own face reflected back at him in the ever-growing pool of blood.
The face of Zinoro.
Luca awoke, not screaming, but gripped with terror nonetheless. He had predicted he would have nightmares, and he had been right. His fingers drifted to his right eye, the one he had lost in his dream, and he was relieved to find it was still there.
The very eye Zinoro was missing.
He sat up, shivering in the cold night air. Despite how cold he felt, he was sweating. His hands trembled, and he felt slightly nauseous. After running his hands through his white hair, he shook his head, hoping to regain some degree of lucidity. When that did nothing, he rose from the bed and went to the window.
The outside was still shaded by the darkness of the night. It was likely midnight or later. Luca knew himself well enough to realise that trying to get back to sleep would be pointless. Once he was awake, he always stayed that way.
Emila was no longer dancing outside in the snow. She had certainly gone to bed by now. But her artificial snow still remained on the streets outside, preserved by the night's cold air.
A glimpse of movement caught Luca's attention. A goblin roamed the streets, sniffing with its pig-like snout at the air.
Goblins were a simple beast, standing at half a man's height, with grey to green skin, and animal-like features. Like most monsters, they emerged at night to hunt for food. It was a safe bet that if you saw one, there were nine others nearby. They bred quickly, and were even prone to eating one another if they failed to find a meal, but they were more of a nuisance than a threat. They were dumb, slow, and weak. A decently trained swordsman could handle a dozen goblins with little trouble.
Upon seeing the easy target of the goblin outside, Luca was filled with the urge to kill. Lingering sentiments of his dream drove him forward. He pulled on his fur clothes, complete with his coat, and took his father's blade and hung it at his belt. He then went as quietly as he could from his room to the front door of the inn.
He paused there, listening carefully for any sound indicating that he might have disturbed Emila. After a moment, satisfied that she slept, he opened the door and stepped outside.
Luca shivered. The cold was sharper than he had thought, striking him suddenly as he moved from the warmth of the insulated inn to the stark outside. Summer in the southern lands was nearing its end, and the nights were getting colder. The fur coat he wore over his back kept him warm, but his cheeks were bare to the elements.
The goblin noticed his presence immediately, and gave out a shrill cry to the open air. It was a call to its companions, telling them it had found prey. The others would come for this. That suited him fine.
Luca drew his sword and charged at the goblin, running through the snow. The beast raised its weapon, a knife carved from an arm's bone. Its meagre attempts were no match for his trained swordplay; he quickly cut the creature down, and pierced its heart with his blade.
The goblin collapsed in the snow. The creature's thick green blood stained the ground and Luca's sword. Its body did not dissipate into mana as a human's did when death took them. Rather, it left behind a lifeless corpse. Goblins, like most monsters, were soulless beings, and they had no souls to be retaken by the spiritual realm.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention. Luca turned around to find that a set of three more goblins had appeared from behind a building across the street. They were all armed in a similar fashion as their companion, wearing shabby scraps of clothing stolen from their prey, and carrying crude knives carved from bones.
He approached the beasts slowly. He considered using magick to blind them, so as to make the kills easier, but the surge of mana would likely awaken Emila. And he really had little need to, for he was certain he could handle three goblins with nothing more than swordplay.
The goblins saw the sight of their fallen companion, but gave no reaction. No anger, no rallying cry, no sorrow. They were mindless creatures of instinct, and death to them was merely a part of everyday life. They did, however, take note of his approach, for they eyed him warily. At last, the dumb things seemed to decide they could handle a single human, and they moved in to attack. The goblins on the left and right moved to either side of him, while the centre goblin approached him directly. A simple strategy; they likely figured that he was unable to defend himself from multiple attacks. These goblins were clearly new to the hunt, though there was really no such thing as a veteran goblin. They never survived long enough to learn from their mistakes.
Luca sprang suddenly to the left, decapitating the first goblin before it even had a chance to react. The goblin on the right cried out in its thick, wordless voice, and raised its bone-knife to stab him while his back was turned. Luca anticipated the attack and rolled aside, which caused the goblin to stumble. As he came back to his feet, he slashed the goblin across the chest. The sharp blade cut through the goblin's thin skin like paper, and the beast fell forward with a choked cry to bleed to death on the ground.
Luca turned to the final goblin, which had ceased its approach and was now reconsidering its attack. He figured there was likely a fifty percent chance of the beast turning and fleeing for its life, or stupidly attacking him anyway.
Not caring to wait for the beast to make its own mind up, he swung his sword through the air and severed the goblin's hand, which held its weapon. It gave out a cry of pain and stumbled back, clutching its bleeding stump. He stepped forward and drove his sword through the goblin's head.
Silence took the air once more.
He kicked the goblin back, pushing it off his father's sword. He turned and saw the second goblin, which still lived, breathing in ragged gasps. He raised his sword up and drove it down into the beast's neck, putting it out of its misery.
After cleaning his sword off on the rags of his fallen opponent, Luca sheathed the blade and walked slowly back to the inn. A modicu
A cold breeze enveloped him, and he felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.
Luca stopped.
He listened carefully. It was almost inaudible, but he had no doubt of it. He could hear the sound of breathing.
Luca turned, his hand drifting to the hilt of his sword. He searched the area, peering carefully into the thick darkness. There was no movement that could give away the location of the unseen voyeur. But now that he had detected it, he had no doubt that he was not alone. He could feel a single set of eyes locked on him, studying him like the meal it no doubt thought he was.
Whatever this new arrival was, it was no goblin. A goblin would have charged stupidly to its death, as the four he had already slain had. This beast was watching him, waiting. It had no doubt been doing so since he had emerged, and had silently witnessed his slaying of the goblins as well. It was intelligent enough to keep its distance, yet it had also seen him effortlessly kill four goblins. And it likely realised he knew it was there, too, yet it did not flee.
Luca drew his sword slowly. The sound of the steel blade brushing against the metal tip of the sheath carried through the dead silence of the ghost-town. It was his announcement. He was saying, 'I know you are here, so come and face me'.
And the creature responded, emerging from the shadows with certain, unhesitating steps.
The monster before him was shaped like a human woman, with a pretty face and hair was black as the shadows that had concealed it. And indeed, it had once been human. But its skin, as grey and lifeless as a corpse's, and its eyes, as red as blood, betrayed its true identity.
The vampire spoke to him, with a voice like lavender wine.
"Your instincts are refined for a human. I expected you would return to the building and return to sleep."
"You would have killed me in my sleep," Luca spat.
"Of course," the vampire said with a raised eyebrow, as though surprised that anyone would be surprised by that. "Two humans staying in the town? I would be a fool to pass such an opportunity. I grow weary of these goblins. Their blood sustains our kind, but it lacks in flavour."
The vampire grinned, displaying her sharp incisors. Luca kept his eyes away from the vampire's own. If one met a vampire's gaze for too long, the vampire could hypnotise them.
"I first saw the girl when she arrived here, two days ago," the vampire told him. "What a beauty. And her hair is already dark as the night. She would do well as one of us. As for you... your blood would make a fine meal, but your mana reeks of light."
With his left hand, Luca began to press his fingernail into his palm. His right hand tightened its grip on his sword, and he was ready to move in a second if the vampire should. A moment's hesitation was all a vampire needed to kill a human.
"I guess its a good thing for me that I'm a fitful sleeper, eh?" Luca asked with a smirk.
The vampire shrugged. "It will make no difference in the end. Some of my kind like to make prey of their meals, to amuse themselves. I always preferred merciful kills. But being discovered will not spare you and or keep me from turning the girl."
And then the vampire sprang forth with the speed of sound, closing the distance between the two within a second. He swung his sword, aiming to take off the thing's head. But the vampire had sharper reflexes than his own; she easily sidestepped his attack, and was standing before him a second later.
Luca felt himself being lifted off his feet, the vampire's grip around his neck like a steel brace. He felt like his head was about to pop off. He could feel the vampire's fingers digging into his flesh. It burned. The vampire then opened her mouth, displaying those long fangs, and prepared to sink them into his neck.
Luca flicked his wrist before the vampire's eyes, spraying her face with a few drops of crimson blood. The vampire's red eyes went wide, and she dropped him involuntarily, lightly touching the blood on her face. The vampire couldn't help but to taste his blood on her fingertips. She was dazed for the moment, not having expected such a thing.
He used these precious seconds to roll back and rise. With his left hand, which bled freely from the self-inflicted wound, he summoned and released a considerable amount of his mana in the vampire's face.
Light filled the street.
The vampire blinked, trying to restore her disabled vision. Unaffected by his own magick, Luca charged and drove his sword through the vampire's chest, where its heart should have been.
This did not kill the vampire. But he knew it would not. There were only two things that can kill a vampire: decapitation and fire. What he did was push the vampire forward, up against the wall of the inn. His sword, protruding from the other side of the vampire's chest, went through the wall of the building, pinning the creature in place.
The creature hissed, and struggled to free herself like the trapped animal she was. Her vision had not yet fully returned, so she swung her arms with abandon, not sure where her target was standing.
Luca let go of his sword. The vampire was stuck; she wasn't going anywhere. He took a step back, and coughed. A few deep breaths later, he felt the lightness in his head fading.
The vampire blinked, her vision returning. Her former haughtiness was gone; she looked like a frightened girl. She looked to Luca, pleading with him with wide, red eyes.
"Please don't do this..."
Luca glared at the thing. His throat hurt too much to speak, but he felt little desire to communicate with the monster anyway. A moment ago, the vampire would have drained Luca's blood, turning him into a withered husk, and then gone into the inn to turn Emila into a soulless thing like herself. And yet, she thought that batting her eyelashes and pleading for her life would save her. There was no mercy in Luca's gaze.
His hands returned to the hilt of his sword.
"Please, don't! I know your-!"
Before she could finish, Luca drew the sword free, and spun in a single movement. The blade sliced through the vampire's neck. The bloodless corpse collapsed.
Luca let out a heavy sigh, and sheathed his sword once more. There was a crumpling sound as the headless body of the vampire dried and shrivelled into dust before his eyes.
He turned to find Emila standing at the entrance of the inn, her eyes wide.
"Luca, what just happened?"
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Instead, a sharp pain shot through his throat. He took a step forward and stumbled, a wave of dizziness rushing to his head.
Emila rushed to him, and pulled his arm over her shoulder to keep him from falling.
"Careful," she said gently. "Come back inside, I'll heal you."
She saw the scattered bodies of the goblins in the snow, but said nothing.
Luca's small, child fingers were wrapped around the blade in his hand. A single drop of blood fell from the tip of the dagger as he held it up and looked at the silver blade. Not red human blood, but the green ichor of a monster.
Luca looked down at the small creature he had killed. A jakalope, an almost harmless monster found in most part of Bacoria. It had put up little struggle, only trying to get away from him, until it had realised it could not flee from the small corner of the cave Luca had cornered it in. Only then had it hissed and tried to bite as he drew near.
The young boy felt sick to the stomach. He'd felt so sorry for the poor creature as he had drove the dagger into its small body. The first stroke hadn't killed it, so it had suffered for a few seconds until Luca could muster up the guts to stab it again.
He hadn't wanted to go in the first place. He didn't like to see anything suffer, especially not cute little creatures like jakalopes. But his father had told him, that if he did not bring back one, then he would not eat that night. And he was hungry and worn-out from the long day of travel. He
Luca picked up the dead jakalope by its antlers and carried it back with him through the forest to the small camp his father had set up. Lodin watched him as he emerged, and a proud smile appeared on the man's bearded face.
"Well done. Now, you can eat."
Luca looked down at the small fire at his father's feet. There was no meal there.
"Father, I don't understand. There's nothing here to eat."
Lodin leaned in towards Luca, and placed a hand upon his son's shoulder.
"My boy, where do you think the meat we eat comes from?" Lodin asked his son. "Why would I go out hunting every evening, if there was nothing to gain from killing the beasts I come across?"
Lodin took the dead jakalope from his son's hands. "This creature was killed by a superior being. Now, its flesh will sustain you." Luca then felt his stomach turning as his father skinned it.
As his father placed the jakalope upon a spit and held it over the fire, Luca sat beside him, pale-faced at what his father had said. He had never hesitated to eat the meals his father had prepared for him, even when he saw the dead and bloody bodies Lodin had dragged back with him. He had simply never given it that much thought. But now that he himself had killed, he felt a different feeling.
Lodin spoke to him as he turned the jakalope over the flames.
"You are old enough now. From now on, you can join me in my hunts."
Luca stared down at the fire despondently.
"When we die... do monsters eat us?" he asked quietly.
His father turned to him, and shook his head.
"When a human dies, they are retaken by the spiritual realm. Nothing is left behind. That is our payment to the Old Ones for using magick, the gift they gave us. Monsters have no souls, and they have no mana to give when they die. The flesh they leave behind is their gift."
Luca sighed. Lodin took note of this. "You are unhappy to hear this?"
Luca nodded, and replied hesitantly.
"I suppose... I would not feel so bad about slaying and eating another creature if I knew that it could do the same to me."
"Ah," Lodin said, scratching his beard. "Yes, there is always a feeling of guilt. But that will fade in time. You will see."
Lodin took the jakalope out of the fire, now cooked down to red meat. After turning it over to confirm it was done, he handed the spit to his son.
"Here. It is your first kill, so you may enjoy it yourself."
Enjoy it? Luca had his doubts. His stomach growled, so he would eat the jakalope, but he doubted he would enjoy it. The guilt of seeing the poor creature cower in terror continued to plague him.
How could his father make him do this? How could his father think he could enjoy hurting an innocent creature?
Luca knew he would never enjoy taking another life.
Emila took Luca back inside the inn, and had him lay upon the sofa. She gathered her mana, and her hands glowed with pale blue energy. There was no point in objecting, as he needed the healing, so he said nothing. Not that he could have anyway; the vampire's attempt at crushing his throat had rendered him temporarily mute.
In a few minutes, the pain in his neck faded away. The vampire's grip had been so powerful that it had left red marks in the shape of hands upon his throat.
Once Emila's job was finished, he sat up. He still felt lightheaded and his arms and legs seemed heavier than usual. He didn't know why... he hadn't felt so exhausted before fighting the vampire. Still, his wounds were treated well.
"Thank you," he said to her.
Emila nodded and smiled, but there was concern in her eyes. She glanced at the door they had come through. The darkness outside told no tales.
"That was... a vampire, wasn't it?" she asked slowly.
Luca nodded. Emila frowned, needing to know more, but unsure what to say.
"Did you... well, how did you know it was out there?"
"I didn't," he replied. "I simply woke in the middle of the night and decided to relieve some stress. That was the goblins. It was by chance that I realised the vampire was there."
Emila met his gaze for a moment, her eyes wide. Apparently, that was not what she had expected to hear.
"Are you saying...?"
"If I had not woken and gone outside to kill those goblins, that vampire would have walked in the inn and killed us both," he told her in a voice devoid of emotion.
Luca thought of the vampire's words, and how she had spoken of Emila. Her tone of voice had been obsessive. Lustful. She had wanted to turn Emila into a creature like herself, and do unspeakable things to her. He decided that he would be considerate enough not to tell her that part. She looked uncomfortable enough already.
Emila fidgeted nervously in her seat. "Then I guess you've payed me back," she said. "You know, for saving your life."
"Not quite. I'm still in your debt. You've saved me twice. First, when you healed me the first time. Secondly, when you stopped me from running. So I still owe you once over."
"I see," she said quietly. "Um, so the vampire is dead, then?"
"As dead as a vampire can be."
Emila rubbed her eyes. "Then we're safe."
"No, we're not."
Emila looked over at him. His face had grown grim.
"What do you mean?"
"Vampires live in groups," he told her. "When the vampire I killed fails to return to the den, the others will come out to find out what happened to her. This town is likely her usual haunt, so they'll know to look here. We have to leave as soon as possible, or we'll be annihilated."
It was only common sense that they could not survive such an attack. He had exhausted himself fighting a single vampire... it would have killed him to fight more than three.
Emila, upon hearing this, grew pale.
"We have to leave..." she said nervously. "Okay, then. I'll go pack my things. Do you need help?"
Luca rose as best he could, testing his balance. While he felt far more tired than he should, gathering his few possessions would not be a problem.
"I'll be fine."
He raised his hand, and noticed that the wound he had inflicted upon himself was still open, and a few drops of blood had fallen to the inn's floor. Emila noticed this.
"Oh! I forgot about that. Here..."
Before he could send her away, she took his hand in her own. He felt her mana flowing through her into himself, and when she let him go, the wound was closed.
"Thank you."
Emila nodded and smiled warmly, her previous anxiety gone.
"Of course. Let's get our things together and get out of here, shall we?"
Luca's hand tingled just slightly from the contact as he followed Emila upstairs. It had nothing to do with the healing.
Ten minutes later, Forga was a vague shape disappearing behind the horizon. The moon had finally emerged from behind the clouds, casting its silver light upon the path before the two travellers.
Luca and Emila walked abreast, at as steady a pace as he could manage in his weakened state. Haste was a concern, but be knew that at least for the moment, they were safe. If such a large group of vampires as he expected were to appear, then they would know some time before they actually reached them.
He noticed that Emila had finally donned some footwear. She wore a simple pair of sandals, not exactly the ideal choice for travel, but he figured she probably didn't have much to choose from. Still, boots like his would have been better.
Emila paid close attention to him as they walked, likely half-expecting him to fall over. While he had regained a degree of his strength after Emila had healed him, he was still nowhere near his peak, nor would he be until he had rest. After thinking about his weariness, he decided it seemed to be mana exhaustion; the fatigue that one came under when they used too much magick. But Luca had only used a small amount of mana earlier, when he created
The path they followed was cut through a forest, travelled enough to be free of nature's many obstacles, but still esoteric enough that the trees lining the sides were thick and concealing. This was something Luca took note of, and he listened intently for any rustling that may indicate a monster's presence. The darkness was still heavy, even with the moon's aid, and it was at the darkest parts of the night that the foul beasts emerged to hunt. Humans hunted in the day, monsters hunted at night. That was how it had always been in Bacoria, and how it likely would always be.
Thankfully, aside from a few small creatures, likely jakalopes, they encountered nothing. The reason for this was clear enough; the local vampires were at the top of the food chain.
"Let's move a bit faster," he urged Emila.
She looked at him with concern. "Are you sure you can handle it?"
"I'll be fine."
Without waiting for any consent from Emila, he took off at a jog. After a moment of hesitation, he heard her pace quicken behind him.
They ran for a few minutes. Forga had vanished behind them, and the moon seemed to grow brighter in the sky. Or perhaps his vision was simply adjusting to the dark.
Emila laughed suddenly. "You know, I'm rather enjoying this. The forest is beautiful at night."
He grunted in reply.
"I have no regrets about this, you know," she told him. "We were going to leave in the morning anyway. So this doesn't make a difference. Aside from the fact that we weren't turned into raisins by that vampire."
"We might still get turned into raisins if we don't get out of here."
"Yes, yes," Emila said. "But it'll take at least a few hours before the other vampires come looking. You said so yourself. I'm sure we'll be far from Forga by then, even at a walking pace. It's possible we might even make it to the next town at this pace, before the night is over."
"It's possible that the vampires may not come for us at all," Luca said. "It's even possible that we could run and dance and sing our way through this forest without a care in the world, and make it to sunrise alive. Don't count on possibilities. There's a reason your parents lock the doors at night. The stories they tell you about the demon Ekkei might be nothing but legends, but there are monsters hiding under your bed, make no mistake."
"But-"
"What do you think happened to all the people who lived in that town? Vampires aren't born like other monsters; they have to come from somewhere."
Emila grew quiet at this, and they continued on in silence.
Roughly two hours after they had set out from Forga, the sky was just beginning to turn orange. Unable to run any longer, Luca collapsed beside a tree.
Emila, hearing the sound of him hitting the ground, brought herself to a halt and turned to him.
"Goodness!" she exclaimed. "You're so pale!"
He forced himself up to a sitting position, and his hand was on the hilt of his father's sword. "I'm fine," he muttered, though it was clear from the strain in his voice that he wasn't. He struggled just to keep his eyes open. As Emila drew near him, he could see fatigue in her eyes, as well.
Despite Emila's protests, he fought to rise to a standing position. His body ached, and grew number by the moment. He tried his hardest to rise, but his legs gave out underneath him, and he collapsed against the tree.
"Luca!" Emila cried, rushing to him. As her hands touched his skin, he felt a flash of rage. He pushed Emila away, more roughly than he had meant to, and she stumbled back and fell on the dirt road.
"Enough!" he shouted. "Enough of this coddling! I'm not your damn child!"
There was a flash of pain in Emila's eyes. Her lip trembled briefly, and she looked away from him in shame.
A moment passed in silence.
"I'm sorry," she said quietly.
He felt guilty, seeing her like that, but he wasn't about to back down. With no small amount of effort, he drew himself up, leaning against the tree while he found his balance.
"We can't stop yet," he said firmly. "The vampires will not be out anymore, so we're safe from them. But we're too vulnerable right now to rest until we find a more secure location. The monsters are no longer a concern, but human bandits may roam these areas. We'll go into the woods, and find a place to make camp. We'll take turns keeping watch. Is that alright?"
She finally looked up at him, surprised by that last sentence. Her eyes were tired and shone with unshed tears.
"I... yeah, that's fine."
He offered his hand to her, and helped her up. They left the path ahead, and entered the thick forest. Emila was quiet, and refused to meet his gaze.
Finally, they found a place isolated enough to be safe. They laid out their respective sleeping bags, and made up a makeshift camp.
"I'll take the first watch," Luca told her. She gave him a brief look, but didn't argue. She was clearly upset by what had happened. They both knew he needed rest more than she did, but his sense of chivalry wouldn't let him do so. He felt a sick feeling in his gut as he thought of that. How could he claim to follow chivalry when he hurt her for trying to help him?
"I'll apologise to her later," he said to himself under his breath.
A quiet moan came from Emila. He turned to find she was already asleep. She must have been more tired than he had thought.
At her side, her bag had popped open from being dropped, and a few things had spilt out from the top. As quietly as he could, Luca went over and began to pick up her things, placing them back where they belonged. Within her bag, he caught a glimpse of some sort of small package, wrapped up in paper. Suddenly curious, Luca gently tried to pull it out, only to find it resisted him with a surprising weight. He gave up, realising he couldn't possibly take out the wrapped object without removing everything else in the bag.
He set his curiosity aside, deciding it would be rude either way to rummage through Emila's things. He put the rest of the spilt belongings back in the bag, and placed it upright so it wouldn't spill over again. Perhaps he would ask her about the wrapped thing later, if he remembered.
Some time passed, and he continued to watch her, thinking about his circumstances and how he had ended up bound to this odd girl. When he thought about it, he really didn't know much about her at all. But she also knew nothing about him either, save for his plans to go to Allma Temple.
Perhaps if he told her that his father had just died, she might understand why he was so short with her.
Luca shook his head at the thought. He couldn't get close to this girl. As soon as his lung was healed, and he no longer needed the Soul Tether to live, he was leaving, and he would never see her again. He would prefer that to happen before they even got to Allma Temple.
He thought of Arlea, and the guilty feelings grew. He could not give into the comfort of being close to anyone, especially not a beautiful girl. Death was now a companion of his, always walking behind him, and looking over his shoulder. His path would inevitably take him to places where somewhere like Emila could not follow.
Like to Zinoro, who waited for him in Acaria.
Emila stirred, but she did not awaken. She muttered something, clearly dreaming.
Despite himself, Luca leaned in closer to hear what she was saying.
"M-mother... please, don't... leave me."
Hating himself, he turned away from her and held his sword like a lifeline.