Leaves cracked underneath his boots, as the boy ran past trunks towering into the night skies. Going deeper into the forest was his only option, for more and more monsters followed between the rows of trees. The boy's rapid breathing thumped in his ears, for he had no idea how many were on his trail nor did he want to find out. All that mattered was to go home, to return to the safe haven, to be held in the protective arms of his mother.

The boy remembered being warned about the dark woods- It was no place for wandering souls. Thorns could strike one's skin at any moment. Feral creatures could lurge from their dens, taking you for prey. Confusing paths could render one easily lost- Yet the boy hadn't listened, for word went of a powerful mage hidden within: someone who could potentially help him with his troubles controlling his unpredictable magic.

Chittering echoes nipped ever closer, the boy's hair standing on end for reasons besides the cold. It was as if the shadows were whispering to him directly, beckoning him to return to their mysteries. Then a speck of light appeared on the horizon, followed by dozens of smaller specks- Home! He'd found his way home!

Using all the strength he had left, the boy ran as fast as he could towards the lights. Warmth engulfed him, the mist of mere minutes ago almost a faraway memory. Then the temperatures rose further, as if the sun was about to rise with a bright summer's day. Wiping sweat off his forehead, the boy kept running, almost sprinting now. The tall cathedral bordering their town appeared, individual windows distinguishable, folks small but visible specks. Something pecked at his ankles, but he couldn't stop to scratch- He was almost home, just a little bit farther!

Then a second bite, and the boy slapped his arm to rid of presumably some insect. Then a third nip, and a different crackle to the leaves crunching underneath slowly became audible. His skin glowed a faint orange, yet the boy was sure sunrises weren't this quick. Shadows moved alongside the tree lines, seemingly no longer chasing him. Behind him, a crackle that roared louder and louder was no longer dismissable. Looking over his shoulder, the orange sight engulfed the boy and forest alike in fear.

Sprinting closer and closer to home, the boy started yelling to get the townfolk's attention. "FIRE!"

But it was too late. Not watching where he put his feet, he tripped over a thorn face first into the forest floor. Surrounded by roars of fire and frightened critters deafening his ears, the encircling fire was about to swallow everything whole-

"FELMYST! WAKE UP!"

His mother was violently shaking him around when the boy finally awoke and stopped his screaming. Bursting into tears immediately, he was held and soothed with a lullaby- It was one of his favourites, one that sung of sheep and dogs and cattle. Whilst mom gently sang, she wiped his cheeks, the notion reassuring him that it was but a nightly terror once again. He clung onto her tightly, counting that it was the third one this week.

"I didn't destroy anything, did I?" he asked quietly.

"Of course not, honey", his mother replied, returning the hug.

"Or hurt anyone?" his lip started to quiver as if ready to cry again.

"You'd never hurt a fly", mother reassured, stroking his head. "Now, let's get you to bed."

— UNFIT FOR THIS WORLD —

His reflection blinked back in ripples as he stared at himself in the water. His pearly white skin almost sparkled alongside the sun, one of many features he got from whoever his father was. Running a hand through his raven black hair, he was thankful he at least inherited one thing from his mother. His longer-than-average elf ears could pick up on sounds easily missed by regular folk. In the distance, he heard a squirrel burrow some nuts. Poking at his face, he could see even his mirror self had visible eyebags. Drooping underneath eyes coloured soft red, perhaps it could pass off as brown if one didn't pay attention. Carefully twisting his mouth to look at his teeth, by this point they were sharp enough to bite through flesh easily. His stomach rumbled, for a second Felmyst wondered if he should hunt the rodent.

"FEL! DINNER!"

The idea thrown out the window, the boy slapped his reflection in disgust and ran off.

Mother's plate was steaming with peas, potatoes and some chicken. On Felmyst's the same, except next to it lay a fluid pack. The date labelled on it was about a week old. "Sorry about that, dear," his mom apologised, "there weren't many donations this past month."

Felmyst nodded, popped the lid off and began sipping his drink. He'd been drinking the stuff for 9 years, yet he was still torn on whether he actually liked the flavour. It began salty with a twinge of sweet, then the taste of metal poured at the halfway point of the blood bag. He was fortunate his mother was a nurse; one pack missing a month was nothing of note. Occasionally he'd drank from small rodents before, freshly caught ones from playing outside. It was a house rule to never bite a person for his own safety, but it also was one he agreed with morally anyway- His half-vampirism would never make anyone turn, yet the thought of sipping from someone alive horrified him.. If the person themself hadn't yelled bloody hell yet.

"Am I old enough yet to hunt?" Felmyst asked once.

His mother ducked to his eye level and put her hands on his shoulders. "You are, but I cannot allow you to", she'd said. The boy turned his head slightly in confusion, at that his mother let out a single, quiet laugh and stared at the walls. When she fixed her gaze, her eyes held a sense of urgency that Felmyst couldn't ever dare defy. "It's dangerous, my dear son. I deserted from the Order to have you. We may not live in Uthaburg, but vampires and their kind are hunted down wherever we are."

"But people hunt boars and deer.."

"I know, but the church has a strong grip on this town. They've always been side-eyeing you and I won't take that risk here. Perhaps if we lived elsewhere."

Felmyst knew his mother had been building up savings, though most of that was usually sacrificed to find a capable, ideally open-minded, master of magic, to teach him control over his. Said mage would eventually give up, then rinse and repeat. "I don't want to do nothing!" he yelled in frustration. "I only take from you and I never give anything back!"

"Don't you ever feel like you have a debt to repay", his mother soothed, also blinking away a few stray tears. "Now listen to me closely."

The boy stared at her, bracing himself for whatever she was to say next. "You're young, and I want you to cherish that while you have it. You're growing up with so much kindness in your heart, and that already sets you apart from all the monsters I've met in my lifetime. Don't you ever dare doubt yourself, young man. You'll never have to prove yourself to me."

At those words he nodded slightly, though he wasn't sure if he believed it.

How could he, if he had to live hiding away from the world? Being singled out to the point of homeschooling? Hearing of his failures behind his back, coming from prayers and priests? Never meeting whoever his father was, his kind akin to the undead, demons, vitriol itself? Still longing for red ichor, despite the scraps he was freely given? Filling home not with hearth but with terror, from frequent nightmares that spurred his magic wild? Leeching his mother's fund, no single mage nor wizard able to tutor him? Knowing that anyone but his mother, would be glad to strike through his heart if they learned the truth?

Out of anyone in the world, the only one who knew him as he was and never judged, was and would always be his mother. Felmyst wishes he could believe her genuine words, he really did. Yet it became more difficult as he got older, as his nightmares increased, as his magic grew more powerful.

— MOTHER —

That one fateful night could never be wiped from his memory.

He'd woken up in a sweat as any other failed rest, yet mom hadn't taken her usual spot at his bedside. His room smelled off. Felmyst opened his window, shutting it immediately the second outside smelled even worse. His heartbeat hadn't calmed down yet, its rhythm drowning out the background noise. He wiped his forehead with his left sleeve, whilst seeing a light come from beneath his bedroom door. Perhaps mother was still awake, or she'd fallen asleep reading again. Walking up to the door and turning the knob, Felmyst shot back his hand at the sudden heat radiating off of it.

"Mom?" he yelled, starting to get frightened. No answer.

Trying to focus on anything but his increasing panic, Felmyst turned the knob with his duvet. "MOM?!" he yelled again, but no answer came. The door wooshed open, the released fumes instantly causing him to wheeze. Crackles were no longer in the background, nor was the light coming from the reading lamp. His eyes shot at every point in the hallway that was on fire. His feet moved by instinct. "MOM!?" he shouted in-between coughs, rapidly opening doors to other rooms, ignoring it hurt his hands like hell.

"MOM! WHERE ARE YOU!" he screamed in desperation. The flames moved fast, the rising smoke rendering the home in a thick mist. Then he heard it. A creak of wood, followed by the quietest, tiniest hack. It came from downstairs. The boy almost tumbled down, then promptly sprinted towards the kitchen. Its passage seemed so close in his grasp, yet so far beyond akin to home in his dreams. His mother lay on the floor coughing, trying to hold a towel against her lower face.

"MOM! GET UP!" he screamed.

His mother shook her head weakly. "I can't", she coughed, her voice weak and hoarse. "Felmyst, run and get help."

"I DON'T WANT TO LEAVE YOU!" he cried, trying to help by tugging at her sleeves.

Then it was as if time stopped ticking. Upon grabbing her wrist, his mother recoiled in a sudden snap, screeching in utter, deafening agony. Holding her arm with her other hand, the towel fell to the floor, yet the inhaled smoke didn't put a single pause in her scream. A blister formed on her wrist, spreading quickly over the entire left limb as if it were cursed. Skin peeled away akin to burns, yet somehow this was so, so, so much worse. From a mere touch.

Felmyst tried to drag his mother out of the orange glow, yet every attempt resulted in even more pain. He was full on crying, having a hard time breathing with a stuffed nose. "MOM! PLEASE!" he yelled.

And for the first time in his life, his mother slapped him away. His vision filled with tears, yet Felmyst could see his mother clearly. Turned into herself, writhing in pain, not getting up from the floor. Her eyes bore through him, with a hurt so much stronger than any stake through the heart could.

Fear.

His mother looked at him in full-on terror.

Flames crackling ever so loudly, parts of the ceiling and walls breaking as loud as explosives. The fire encircling the kitchen, closing in on mother slowly yet quickly simultaneously.

"Go", is all she said, and Felmyst turned heel, covering his face and tears with his sleeve, sprinting out of the house. The second the fresh night air hit him, behind him his home gave in and fully collapsed.

— SENTHYRIL —

Finding peace with his mother's death wasn't something Felmyst thought he ever could; especially after the way they said their goodbyes. Brought into church after being found by the locals, the boy was shortly taken in to be brought up amongst other orphans as priests and nuns. None of their teachings interested him, nor did the other children take kindly to him. Despite being surrounded by others, the outcast felt terribly alone.

Several months after the burning down, Felmyst was ever quiet and never peeped a word. The boy didn't even look up, when a middle-aged woman covered in robes and golden filligree arrived to inquire about him. He was counting the marble tiles, after the priest brought the visitor to him. He only turned his eyes, when the woman addressed him in a voice with a sweet tone reminescent of his mother. He gave her a small nod, confirming he was then, indeed without a family and still in need of help.

The woman then put a hand on his shoulder, her eyes almost turning to glass. "My condolences, Felmyst. I received a letter from your mother years ago, asking to tutor you in magic.. Yet I had little time then. I should've sought you out earlier, and I am sorry for that."

It was the first time Felmyst burst into tears again since the incident. Soon after, that was the last time he ever saw that church and that wretched town, from then on taken under the wing of Senthyril- Once the royal archmage to a powerful ruler, now seeking to teach the next generation her own way- As well as the outer connection who'd helped mother escape Uthaburg a decade ago.

His new abode was in the very tower Senthyril called home. Its twists and stairs led to many off-shoot rooms, one of which was turned into Felmyst's- Not that the boy had many belongings to begin with, as all but his pyjamas had been burned.

"Make yourself at home", Senthyril told him anyway. "Your lessons begin at dawn starting tomorrow."

Despite looking as feeble as a twig, the once-archmage still packed a punch and had plenty wisdom to offer. After the first day, his hands tinged in a way he'd rather not dwell on. After the first week, he picked up a book, then another after another. After the first month, he had his first ever uninterrupted night's rest.

Vampires were most known for their affinity in blood magic. Occult by definition and thus banned in most countries, yet it was still something Senthyril could teach Felmyst to control; At the heart of it lay his emotions, which spiked during REM and thus, inevitably, affected his very own blood. Per his teacher's words, it was as if he was boiling himself from the inside out. Seeing a therapist besides, also was a beneficial factor to regulation.

Outside his inherited magic, Senthyril also taught him the arcane and elemental. For similar reasoning, Felmyst was also homeschooled as his knowledge on magic expanded. The boy did eventually learn that Senthyril had funded the building of a small academy, where she'd teach others.

"Can't you teach me alongside your other pupils?" he asked her one time. "Surely they wouldn't bat an eye at me now.."

By then he'd incorporated several tricks to pass as any other regular elf: for one, a mould with 'normal' molars, which did the job but tasted absolutely disgusting. For another, he discovered the older the blood, the less reddish his eyes were. Inside his room lay a cabinet filled with preserved ichor for months, aging as if fine wine. The taste of it was ever worse, however, luckily diluted blood had the same effect. A canister of it could easily mimic fruit juice.

"Are you absolutely sure? It'll send your anxiety through the roof", Senthyril responded to his query, harsh but honest.

Felmyst hadn't mingled with others much, that he knew. The thought of saying or doing anything, then being stared at with raised eyebrows.. Frankly he'd rather not. Yet at the same time... He didn't long to grow into the hermit book worm, never leaving his study nor learning of the world beyond paper texts. Still feeling like a leech, though this time taking from Senthyril instead, Felmyst wanted to find a way to give back.

"Yes," he decided, "I want to feel something positive for this world for once. I want to learn to love it."

And so, by the following week, a 13 year old boy, weak in the knees and trembling from perhaps just the cold, stood at the front of class as Senthyril introduced the new student.

— VSIVACI —

Throughout the years, Felmyst still mostly kept to himself, despite interacting with the world more. The young pupil could get along with his fellow students, yet didn't make any lasting friendships even when they all graduated together. By then, he was only occasionally bothered with boiling blood and haunting nightmares. Most of his time dedicated to strengthening his magic, therapy, reading or helping the locals with small and trivial matters- The pet companion cats, dogs, rodents and reptiles seemed to be especially fond of him.

Felmyst found he had an affinity for aiding the folk in need, the only few times where social ineptitude didn't matter that much, besides running errands for his tutor. After becoming a certified magic caster, Senthyril invited him to teach at her academy, though that didn't ignite the same spark. Thus, the next objective in his apprenticeship, was to join an adventurer's guild.

It proved rather easy, considering he was ahead of the average upon his application review. Donned in befitting garb gifted by Senthyril, coloured in his favourite colour mist purple, from that day on Felmyst could lend a helping hand more effortlessly. Running strictly solo quests, yet wielding plenty result, eyes already wandered to him after several weeks. Humble errands replaced by handling petty thievery and amok creatures, it was as if a mistifying air surrounded the young adult- Yet those same eyes would turn in a second to a different adventurer, without doubt the most popular in the whole guild.

Felmyst eventually came to know this knight as Vsivaci. Contrasted to his cool air, a bright light surrounded this high-ranking warrior, ensured to be witnessed by all. Flaunting his confidence, it was soon made clear that this Vsivaci was revered akin to a god. How could he not be, especially so with his heritage being half-mortal half-divine? Yet it was he who extended his hand to Felmyst, to invite him on a dangerous quest requiring a full party. It'd be Felmyst's first adventure with others, resulting in a resounding success.

To be put in the spotlight and be gawked at, in truth, didn't feel that unwelcome.

In almost every regard, Vsivaci was the polar opposite to Felmyst. Where he was boisterous and lavished with attention, Felmyst was quiet as the shadows and hidden from view. Yet the two ran together more after their initial mission, eventually becoming a notable duo at their guild. Even if Felmyst couldn't advice much, whenever his friend complained of woes alien to him, he provided a listening ear. In turn, Vsivaci did the same for his, whenever Felmyst felt like sharing a tad more than usual once a blue moon.

Existing felt good at that point. Felmyst honed his skills further, dipping back and forth in strength with Vsivaci, rendering a rivalry between them. Their fellow guild mates greeted them in respect, the folk they aided thanked them in genuine tears. The worries of being found out almost an afterthought, the vampire revelling in life for the first time.

Yet, somehow, it all came falling down once more.

On a fateful day, Felmyst and his friend were to fell a powerful wyrm terrorising settlements, its lair high up in a nearby mountain range. Described about as large as an elephant, how laughably wrong the information was, for it snaked around hills in seconds. Its green scales reflected jade in the evening sun, nearly as magnificent as a dragon. A difficult feat was ahead of the duo, but they intended not to return empty-handed.

A handful slashes had already struck the wyrm, as it started wriggling more erratically. It shot left, right, up and down, destroying parts of the landscape whilst it did so. A sudden turn, its jaw lined with multiple rows of sharp teeth, and it was heading straight for Vsivaci. Too far away with too little time to hit it off route with a spell, Felmyst had a mere few seconds to decide. Breathing in sharply, his lungs recoiling in reaction, Felmyst turned to his last card he dared not to ever use.

With his concentration set on the wyrm, the mage extended a powerful hand, followed by his left, trembling yet moving with precision. Vsivaci had readied his blade and braced for impact, but when none came, he opened his eyes at the sight before him. Twisted in turns anatomically impossible, the wyrm was unable to screech as its organs were crushed by its very own bones. The knight gripped his weapon tightly, slowly turning his vision in horror to Felmyst, his eyes unmistakably bright red.

"You're using blood magic", Vsivaci stated quietly, failing to find more words.

Felmyst's eyes shifted for a second to his friend, then back to the wyrm. "How could I not?" he responded, letting out a single, nervous laugh. "If I didn't, you'd have died."

All the times Felmyst never let anyone sip from his canteen now made more sense. So did all the times he insisted on eating by his lonesome. So did whenever they coincidentally stumbled into dead rodents. So did whenever he insisted on burying the dead, even if others found it a waste.

Vsivaci could picture it clear as day.

"You're.. You're one of them..." the knight concluded hesitantly, not wanting to believe it himself. His eyes were clouded with the all too familiar judgment that Felmyst never hoped to see. At the sight, he almost recoiled, starting to lose his grip on their objective.

"A leech..." Vsivaci whispered, almost to himself. Gripping his weapon tightly, the demigod stared the abomination in the eyes. "A vampire."

Felmyst said naught in return. He wanted to apologise, explain his side, make up and just go back to adventuring- "For that, I shall have your head!" his once friend roared, charging towards him with a fire in his eyes and a finesse unmatched. Felmyst closed his eyes, breathed out, and let go of his hold on the wyrm towering above. As if life flooded back in the monster, it crashed into the bright light, dimming it and preventing it from engulfing everything around.

He ran. He ran as far as his legs could take him, away from the mountain range, away from the guild, away from any peering eyes to see him as he was- A monster.

— APOLLO & HAEVIRNDAWN —

Hidden away within his room, now a tad too small to house an adult, Felmyst vowed to not set foot in the world again. That's how reality was after his incident with Vsivaci and subsequently the guild. He had no issues aiding Senthyril as her apprentice. Yet the moment he set foot outside in broad daylight, it was as if he hurt and recoiled like a wounded animal, only doing so if he absolutely had to. Helper by trade, hermit in everything else.

"This can't go on any longer, Fel", Senthyril sat him down one day. They'd never officially signed the papers, yet the old mage had become a second mother to him. "You need to live."

"I can't", he responded repeatedly, curled into himself, head held beneath trembling hands. "They always find out. One way or another."

"You don't know that", his tutor told him sternly. "Look at you. You're a mess. Your mother nor I raised a quitter. Do you really want to spend the rest of your existence like this?"

Felmyst knew he didn't want to. He really didn't. Yet it felt like an unreachable, impossible dream to reach, laying ever so still on a horizon that was so close yet miles away. Losing all he loved and cared about in a whim never failed to do irrepairable damage.

When he didn't respond, Senthyril slapped some sense into him. "Look at me, Felmyst", she said. "Really look at me."

He stared at her weakly, feeling as vulnerable as he did all those years ago.

"You cannot let your fear nor your heritage define you", Senthyril continued, her eyes boring into his soul with the determination he didn't have. "In the past few years you've found what brought you joy, what kindles the flames, what turns you alive. Don't you ever let go of that fuel for life."

"How? I have no place here anymore.." Felmyst trailed off.

"It doesn't have to be here", Senthyril reassured him, putting a strong emphasis on the last word. "You can start again. Elsewhere."

And so, accompanying the once-archmage, she helped him set up shop in a different town, within a different country- Far away from the reaches of Uthaburg, where demons and monstrosities sure were still threats, but the odd ones out had better chances- Seragos. According to his tutor, the country where she was born and honed her craft. Gifted an enchanted set of armour that covered him head to toe, he could start over at the very guild Senthyril once was apart of in forming. Haevirndawn was similar to his first, yet here he saw adventurers of various shapes and sizes more often: elves made up the majority, though it wasn't uncommon to see elementals or orcs, as well as hybrids and to his dismay, individuals seemingly worshipped akin to deities.

Felmyst turned to his teacher, doubt clouding his judgment. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yes," she said whole-heartedly, "I think it'll do you some good."

"Can I still come visit?"

Senthyril burst out in laughter, as if it was the stupidest question he could ever ask. "Why, of course! You'll always be welcome, but I'll ensure to visit you in turn."

At that Felmyst nodded in appreciation, chuckling when she mused of possibly building a vacation tower here. She bid him goodbye, but not farewell, taking him in for a tight hug. "You'll fly high, Fel. I believe in you."

Similar to his first rodeo, Felmyst firmly stuck to solo quests initially. Here though, he found others didn't gawk as much if at all, which he preferred. There was an air of heroic duty, each and every single adventurer had: loyal to the world and its needs. Over the passing weeks, he got to hear and learn much about fellow guild members, realising he fit in with this bunch much better compared to his past. Occasionally it had the grand quest, too, which oft required a full party or even a significant percentage of the whole guild, in those moments he felt he was dutily providing his part.

And once again, it didn't take long for Felmyst to be invited onto quests with other adventurers. The magic-wielding knight refused all but dire missions, except he was a bit flabbergasted when again, a high-ranking knave, also having a tie to the light, set their sight on him. None other than Amaterasu, said to be the daughter of the elven sun deity Asphodelus himself.

Gods, it was as if he was the darkness of night, begging to be lit by rays of light.

Except with this knave, she carried a light with a quietness a bit too familiar, dare he say even relatable.

Felmyst begrudgingly accepted. Then again, and again, and before he knew it, the two usual sole adventurers, were a duo of dark and light at Haevirndawn.

Yet he found they weren't that much of opposites- The both of them could sit in silence for hours, and deem it time well spent. Like he, Amaterasu didn't share much of her past if at all with him, nor with others. There was no need to, with that knowledge the two warriors respected one another as if with an invisible oath of trust. So much so, it was Felmyst's turn to be utterly surprised at someone else, the day Amaterasu lifted her helmet and revealed naught lay underneath.

"Sentient armour", she'd said, her soul tied to it going as far back as hundreds of years.

In turn, Felmyst bared his teeth and eyes, feeling giddy for the first time as he was offered to go hunt some wildlife for blood together. Amaterasu, in truth called Apollo, hadn't abandoned him. It filled him with a hope and love for life once more, ever so slightly. A notion that dared him to continue on this path. The knight was still far off from feeling alive, but perhaps he wasn't the only monstrosity finding purpose in this world.

— END OF DAWN —

The knight had hoped to never cross paths with Vsivaci ever again.

Then the gods said "well, too bad", dropping them both in an unfamiliar world. Waking up gasping for air in the middle of night was one thing, but being choked by a former friend was another. Clawing and thrashing about in anger, especially once Vsivaci reiterated he'd have his decapitated head, or so help him. Felmyst almost had no issue surging his magic through his blood, promptly removing him out of his vicinity.

"What's your fucking problem!?" he confronted him. "I left you alone! Can't you do the same for me?!"

Before his old friend could answer, they both realised they didn't recognise their surroundings. Spotting the smokes of a fire in the skies, judging by it some miles away, they begrudgingly travelled there on a temporary truce. To see other Haevirndawn guild mates, was a surprise to say the least. Arguing, scouting, collecting resources to set up camp properly; not a single soul had any idea of their whereabouts. After a few days, they were still none the wiser, despite more folk finding the base, everyone haphazardly commanded around by two knights Felmyst recognised as part of the Wynthrox's group. To the aggravation of both ex-friends, they were forced to extend their truce, especially so once events unfolded further, revealing they found themselves in the End Of Dawn.

The vampire tended to his duties, though was more than aware of Vsivaci's death stares prodding in his back at all times- Instead worrying himself with what was going on, missing the folk he cared about. Insistent on ignoring him, exposed further to the fact that Vsivaci hadn't changed one bit, his head still far stuck up his ass with his overconfident attitude. At least Apollo, in comparison, was actually worthy of her status.

To Vsivaci, it was puzzling that no one else batted an eye about Felmyst, nor even made a big deal when he whispered in several ears of his true nature. To the demigod, it was baffling that most guild members kept their high opinions, with Felmyst having never crossed a single line. Even more so, when they kept in friendly spirits with him, strangers formed connections, and others butting heads started to get along. Perhaps it was thanks to the ones in charge, as one of them seemed strongly opposed to 'petty grudges', and the other seemed to be the embodiment of joyous cooperation.

Vsivaci simply refused to question his own judgment, yet was forced to; as time and time again, Felmyst was more of a help to the group's efforts than he. Once, he was even defied by the leaders, both eyeing him up and down with a hint of disgust. Felmyst, on the other hand, happily lend a hand and could freely hunt to sate his hunger. It was insanity! The roles were supposed to be reversed! Yet the longer events continued on this strange world, the more Vsivaci's eyes were ripped open by the truth.

On that fateful night Felmyst was approached in all seriousness, the both of them were standing nightly guard. Focused on any noise besides rustling leaves, Felmyst looked down at Vsivaci's extended hand quizzically. "What are you doing?" he asked, somewhat annoyed.

"Apologising", Vsivaci simply said.

Felmyst raised an eyebrow. "What for... ?"

"I've misjudged you," his old friend admitted, "far too harshly." He waited a few moments to let it sink in. "My opinion of you was clouded by what you are, instead of what you've done. For that you were chased out of your guild.. Your town.. Even your country. I shouldn't have spearheaded that. I should've stood by your side, insisting on your honour instead."

The vampire stared at the demigod in disbelief, not saying anything. The air was tense, but somehow in a good way.

"I don't think we could ever be friends again", Felmyst eventually replied. He could see his old comrade's hand faltering a tiny bit. "Though I appreciate it. A lot. More than you know", the vampire said in earnest, shaking his hand firmly- Despite being a leech, despite all the heartbreak and despite all ups and downs that made his life- Finally Felmyst saw that he had, indeed, always done good for the world where he could.

Even if that moment of pure bliss and self realisation was short-lived, Felmyst had found peace with it, as he lay clutching a growing gnash in his stomach not a week later. The vampire was mighty powerful, but even he would have trouble handling an archdemon. In spite of that, he'd succeeded in his objective; retrieving an artifact vital to their mission. Other allies quickly surrounded him in his pool of blood, healers attempting to tend to his wounds.

"Stay with us, Fel!" one of them said.

"You'll get through this," the other muttered, "just hold still."

Truth was, it was a horrid sight, as if he'd been executed. Blood still spilling, the surrounding pool expanding into a lake. Must've been several arteries he reckoned. "It's fine", he reassured them, even as multiple sets of eyes slowly turned to glass. "I'm fine. I don't mind letting go."

As if he was called upon in war, Vsivaci momentarily pushed through the rest, kneeling down next to his dying friend. The demigod said nothing upon seeing the mess, all too clear there was nothing anyone could do. He tightly gripped a hand, giving him a firm nod. "You've lived honourably, Felmyst. Soon you'll part from us the same, I swear to you fealty your death will not be in vain."

Returning the nod, Felmyst requested one last thing from his old comrade. "Once all this is over, please bury me at my home. Find Senthyril and Apo- I mean Amaterasu- They'll know what I mean."

As his time ran out, his last glimpse didn't catch Vsivaci's response, though he was sure his wish was heard.

After what seemed like an eternity, victory was finally on the horizon, the remaining standing all letting out a sigh of relief.

Vsivaci did exactly do as he was told. Alongside his two most trusted loved ones, the trio buried Felmyst at the heart of his home. The past decades hadn't been kind to it, yet the remains of his mother's safe haven still stood strong; within the abandoned town, it remained the most lively spot. Buried in the centre of the ruins lay a single tombstone, adorned with torn pages, annotated notes and worn down books, some as recent as mere months ago. Next to it they lay his coffin in the earth, decorated with motifs of thorns, blood and fire, yet of magic, swords and honour. His tombstone was fashioned similarly, on its top rested a marble figure of a bat spreading its wings.

Each of their eulogies lasted about an hour. The knight formed connections with few, but they all had so, so, so much to say about him. Yet their words could never be enough for the grief that befell them, in that the trio was connected even if for a short while. Post-mortem, Senthyril eventually returned to her tower and academy, still insistent on teaching the next generation. Vsivaci vanished in a puff of smoke, the demigod leaving more questions than answers. Apollo, her true nature outed to the world, yet revered, finally able to live as she truly was.

As for Felmyst, he'd died in peace, despite his early end.

In the distance he could see a warm, bright orange light emitted from a place he hadn't seen in ages. His feet moved by instinct, sunrays brightly shining on him as he ran with a vigour refreshed towards the horizon. His spirits high, he felt as young as a boy again, the smell of tea and roast dinner soon hitting his senses. Above all, a soothing voice rang out to him, calling him home.