The Last Vampire

The tear in the rock bore teeth. These stones were carved not by man, but by the sea lapping at low tide tonight. Even so, the waves filled far past the sea caverns overhang, and by morning it would rise to close off the entrance entirely. Every passing hour gave rise to the oaken boat and its four oars, and every passing hour Siiva's ankle strained harder to settle its incessant tapping of the damp stone.

"She's dead. She's dead. The pig-brained bint is dead and cold, and you're not getting paid." His whispered between bites of his lip, glued to the spot of cavern that if surpassed by the waters, he promised himself he'd leave. It had been lapped over ten minutes ago. "She's dead. Get on wit'it."

He stood, and then jumped at the echoes casting their way toward the opening. He peered into the dark, and saw the faint wisp of magelight before carving out Sunny's shape. She skulked from the shadow leaning more to one side than where she held the flickering torch. When she saw him, she gave little more than glance. She strolled right by, and he caught a hint of what she carried in place of glimmering jewels or silver chalices.

"You're late?" He chased her all the way to the boat. "Is that a corpse? Corpse of a child?"

"I don't know." She tossed her torch to clatter onto its rocking concave, and tried to steady it enough to step in. Balancing the girl in her arm made it impossible to stretch far enough. Siiva had to wrestle where it was tied to bring it in close enough to grapple its side.

"And where's the riches that were promised? Where's the Savior's favorite goblet? Or illustrious surcoat? Or moldy britches, at the very least?"

"Just get in the boat, and help me row, boy." That woman he'd entered with was gone, starkly different even if he heard an attempt to sound blaze about appearing as she did after so long a dive.

He did as asked. The damp knot around one of the cavern's teeth was wrangled loose, and a solid shove of his foot was enough to drift them towards the mouth. He focused on pushing them along as she settled in with the small thing cradled to her. "Mind, lady." He said as they neared the small gap.

She did so, resting a hand on the snow of the girl's hair to keep her from falling forward as she leaned, still nicking the top of her own head with the cavern as they passed the narrow space. Siiva scraped the ceiling for purchase, grunting as his fingers slipped. All the while, he kept his eyes on the two. He found Sunny staring intently. She continued so as they breached unto open water, and were at the mercy of the full brunt of the sea. He begged her attention, and she eventually got to her oars as well. Far off, a patch of light was their destination. They pumped a the oars to put the looming shadowed spires of the Keep into the distance.

"Who is she?" Siiva called over the waves. "What in dog-damn did you bring out of there?"

"A girl." She said. "Just a girl. I'll need to find someone. I'll need to stay in town a bit longer."

"That wasn't the plan."

"You'll get your riches. I'll just need another pass at it. I'm sure there's more down there."

"I don't know if you can handle two or three little girlies." Siiva tapped at his cheek. "You're gaunt, lady. Look like a ghost."

She mimicked the gesture. Then went back to rowing. "I'm fine."

The child had curled into Sunny while being carried - as if seeking to share in her warmth - looking truly asleep instead of the catatonic state from before. Her own body was ice-cold to the touch however, no different from the corpse both had assumed her to be at first glance.

As the pair rowed back to civilization, her nose twitched once more. A vague sense of consciousness returned to her, and she let out a small whimper before rising up, practically clinging to her armor to rest her head on the older woman's shoulder. Leaning her own petite body completely against her, her tongue found the wounds on her neck and gently lapped at the remaining traces of blood like a puppy would water. Not once did her eyes open, and with how relaxed her body was now, it seemed she was acting completely on instinct.

Sunny's oars stopped rowing as she flinched. Siiva watched as the corpse truly did move all its own, climbing slowly. For some reason, the lady didn't brush this ghoulish aberration away. She let it get to her neck, to his horror, allowed it to bite the vital flesh. But no, that was just his fear twisting the shadows. He peered longer, and saw the small form idly licking there. It was tender, somewhat hypnotic.

"Enjoying the show?" Sunny had returned to her rowing, challenging his gaze.

She won out. He focused elsewhere. "How... what in..." But he was breathless from exertion, even if he could form the right questions.

---

Sunny paced about the dirty sandstone floor. In this way, the hearth warmed her evenly as she flipped sides in the small hut. The spray of the sea had soaked her, leaving the salty brine stench staining her skin. The leather pieces of her armor were uniform in their placement at the hearth's fire, as well as the girl's white dress just in case it was of any importance. They were more rags than anything, but you never knew. "I'd be cranky if I woke up without my favorite dress." Sunny twirled the symbol of the savior in her fingers.

"What was that?" Siiva was beyond the door. He'd probably been for a while. "Ya done in there?"

"Yeah." She flipped, letting her right side face the warmth of the hearth. "Come in."

The door opened. He came with a plate of stale bread and strange fish. It seemed like an after thought as he rushed to set it aside a table and point to the corner. There, the girl Sunny'd been watching slept soundly, tucked in a bundle or sheets in the hope of raising her freezing touch to something vaguely normal. It was possible she was dead. It was difficult to tell from moment to moment. But every time one of the two checked, they always found a slight movement betraying the truth; the unbelievable.

"You found a girl. Alive. In that place." Siiva said.

"I don't know what to tell you." Sunny wanted to dawn her armor. Undergarments felt too thin for such dire talk. "Can we save this for tomorrow?"

"Save for the 'morrow? Then what, lady?" Siiva tapped at his short haired temple. "Then what? Take her back? Take her to an orphanage?"

Sunny couldn't help but pull a grin. "It's an option. I wouldn't think you of all would enjoy tossing another poor child to the Church, though."

Siiva shook it off. "When it's not my child. Ah. Poor lass that one is, sure. But when it's not even human!" He hissed.

"Quiet."

The crackle of the hearth sent an ember onto the beige floor. Besides that, it was deathly silent outside.

"I'm going to find a Seer. Or mage-folk, or whoever might be able to tell me what she could be."

"She's a ghoul." Siiva pointed to the fishy plate he'd brought. "She may not look it, but when she wakes and wants your flesh. Well. I won't be around to say prayers."

"That's fine, boy." She let the symbol fall with the rest around her neck. "You've done enough. Don't think I'm going back on anything, and you won't-"

"I won't do nothing hasty. Aye, lady." He moved away, now tapping his neck. "But I see she's already got your neck. Maybe she won't be happy with just that."

He left. Sunny moved to a strung cot and collapsed. Idly, her fingers explored the two puncture scabs. She'd find out if that damned fishermen's son would blab in the morning. For now, all she had to worry about was how she'd turn a profit with the only haul being this girl. She watched her sleep for a long while. The bread was better than nothing, and gave her enough to fall asleep with too.

Sometime after the morning light began peeking through gaps in windows and doorways did a pair of eyes flutter open, revealing two red gems shining with life. The first thing the girl laid eyes on was an unfamiliar ceiling. Then she felt a soft sensation encasing her entire body, and instantly she knew something was wrong.

The memories flooded back to her one by one, and as her nose guided her head to the side to lay eyes on the familiar figure, everything clicked into place.

"..."

For some odd reason, she didn't try to get up at all. Instead, her eyes continued to watch the woman as she slept, even as minutes passed by. Completely still, completely quiet, just watching the rise and fall of her chest, the light snores she emitted, every single movement.

This lasted until she eventually woke up.

"No," Her voice came in a hushed, strained note, "Don't...". It diverged into low murmurs as her form jerked, twisting to her side. "Don't slather so much honey... it's a waste..." Her cheeks flushed as a limp hand waved off an invisible attacker. "No!"

There was more of that for some time, until sunshine caught one closed eye. It twitched open, blinded for moments after she rose and rubbed the glare away. She languished in the frozen space that was the cubby-hole of a room, peering at the dust that floated in the sparse rays not shielded by drawn drapes. A bubbly groan broke the spell of morning, and Sunny brought a hand to her stomach.

"Honeyed-ham would really hit the," but the yawn of a thought was never finished. Sunny had spotted the gaze that been trained on her for how long, exactly? It was that question along with a slew of others that combined into a fresh terror incapable of being totally reigned in. It showed as she matched the thing curled in the corner with eyes that of a curious predator. No matter how much Sunny wished it so, the primal fear still showed. All she could do was attempt to move past it.

"Been awake a while?" She tried at a smile.

"..." The girl didn't respond, and only continued to stare at her. The question hung in the air, leaving an awkward silence to descend into the room. But just as it seemed like the question went completely ignored, her eyes suddenly narrowed to the floor as she pulled the sheets up to cover her mouth, her head dipping to softly nod twice.

She couldn't help but chuckle. Nervous tick. It added to her charm at times, but she wasn't trying to woo a man with her ditsy routine, here. She tried to put on the tone she always had the most luck with when talking to children; A softer, friendly lilt that made her dry throat all the more scratchy. "You could have woken me, you know? I'm sure you have lots of questions." She rubbed a shoulder, trying to work some morning warmth in. "I do, too. But mine can wait. I'm Sunny. Is there anything can I call you?"

"..." Another long pause filled the room as the girl seemed to hesitate. Soon, however, she sat up a little straighter and opened her mouth to answer.

"E-" And almost instantly the word caught in her throat, forcing her into another violent choking fit. Her coughs were pained and dry - like there was nothing blocking her airwaves, and she was simply coughing because of weak lungs. Or perhaps a sickness?

But the explanation needn't be as difficult as that. The girl had clearly been down in the dungeon for a long time with no one to talk to. Her vocal cords had likely deteriorated during that time, and would take time to heal properly. Well, if she were human, that is.

Sunny's eyes went wide, not having expected that. With all the sluggishness and needles still in her waking body, she came away from the chair and grabbed a lukewarm pitcher. It was more a bucket with a break in the rim to allow for better pouring, but water still trickled down to its base rather than into the smaller ceramic Sunny'd been aiming for. Once it was brimming at the edge, she set the bucket down and offered the water.

"My throats always dry in the morning too." She said, knowing she never had coughing fits that looked like that, but keeping that to herself. She waggled the pottery, a droplet of water falling to the sandstone. "Take it."

She very visibly flinched as Sunny approached her but - perhaps partly because the position had her cornered in the room - didn't try to escape. Her eyes followed the water as it jiggled about the container she'd been offered, her expression betraying the clear distrust and uncertainty she was feeling.

But more notably, she didn't look interested in drinking the water at all. After inspecting it for a few moments, her gaze drifted upwards to stare at Sunny's face - or rather, the scabs on her neck.

"Eh..." Sunny gave up on the orthodox manners a host might treat a guest. It seemed she'd have to address the elephant in the room. She set the pottery near the girl's edge of the table, and eased back into her seat.

"So," Sunny brought two fingers to her nape, and touched the scabs lightly. The blood had hardened in the night, twin black circles on fair skin. "You noticed these. Yes, I believe a rat may have gotten me when I went under. I'm not sure how much you recall... but after you woke up, we both seemed to have gotten knocked in the head." She grabbed some stale bread and broke it in two. "How much... do you remember?" She said as she nibbled on a bread lump.

Remember.

The one word sent the girl's eyes to her sheets as she clutched them in her fists. It was clear she remembered something, but evidently was not happy to recall it.

Eventually, she turned back to Sunny, her eyebrows furrowed. Her mouth opened to speak several times, but each time would close again out of hesitation. In the end, she remained silent, idly rubbing at her own throat with her fingers.

She glanced about the room, searching for something (and notably flinching at the specks of light peeking in from outside), but ultimately landed back on the woman. Her index finger ran across her other palm in a random gesture of writing, her head tilted to the side questioningly.

Sunny watched the girl be more animated than ever. She couldn't help but raise a brow at the assurance the little one could at the very least understand her. Of course, now she had to struggle to understand her.

"I don't know Sign." She rubbed her own fingers as the girl drew on her palm. Then, it clicked like a rattling cart wheel fitting snugly into its place. "A quill? To write with? Eeumm...?" She rose and looked about the room. She hadn't anything like that, and why would she? Most of her work didn't involve book keeping or sale logs, but a fishermen might. Sunny scoured a worn waist-height drawer near the hearth of waning embers. Two of the shelves pulled were filled with papers, and the last had a jar of ink and weathered feather. She brought it all to the table, never-minding how the papers already had some faded words on them.

"Alright," Sunny uncorked the ink and dipped the feather tip too far. There was way too much ink on the end, but she held it to the girl all the same. "Go on."

She eagerly accepted the items and hastened to scrawl out her first words with uncoordinated hands. Several times did the quill slip from her grasp before she finally managed to write something. Once she was done, she held it up for Sunny to see, the sloppy handwriting barely legible even without factoring the amount of ink.

Nice Human?

Perhaps out of habit or discipline, she took the time to capitalize and punctuate despite her rush.

Sunny stared at the paper, realizing a fatal flaw in this impromptu plan for communication: She didn't know how to read. Didn't know Common script, at least. As she stared at the blobby lettering, the individual shapes were recognizable. She knew she'd seen that second word "human" plenty; in crypts, on some tombstones proud of their race or a part of a title. She was sure it meant people like her, who had the same innards and skeletal structure of those she found in those crypts. Humans.

"Na... Ni-see..." Sunny felt a dabble of sweat crawl down her cheek. She racked her memory for the meaning. "Ni-ce. Nice. Nice Human." She nodded, another wheel clicking into place. "Nice human! Yes, yes! I'm very- well I'm not one to brag, but plenty have told me I'm quite nice. And last I checked I'm human." She brought a bare forearm to examine, as though she were making sure.

The girl's arms were held up eagerly as Sunny read, but it soon dawned on her that she was struggling to read the two simple words she'd written. And as time passed, her expression warped while listening to Sunny testing the word "nice" aloud. It was hard to tell if it was pity or sympathy, but there was clearly some condescension in the way she pursed her lips as she wrote out her next words.

Where am I? Wh

The quill lifted before she could continue. She looked anxious to keep writing, but stopped herself out of consideration and simply held the paper back up for Sunny to see.

It was much the same result. Sunny stared long and hard, some times breaking to take a swig of the water once poured for the little one. Her forehead just felt like a furnace!

But after a while, "Ah!" She straightened again, beaming with understanding. "Right now, you're sitting in my business partner's bed, in," She looked to the roof a moment "Well, everyone just calls it the Hamlet around here. It's a fishing village on the sea coast. You can see the castle ruins I hauled you of from here."

The quill slipped from her hand again as she hurried to write her next question. As she reached down to retrieve it, however, her hand paused mid-air. Slowly, she picked it up and stared down at the paper. Her body was shivering, and she looked uncertain of what to write- or rather, if she wanted to continue writing at all. She did in the end, and the next question was scrawled with shakier hands than before.

What's the date?

Her eyes were full of apprehension as she held up the page for Sunny to decipher.

"There's that 'wah' letter again," Sunny nodded to herself, self assured that she'd already gotten two messages deciphered "I guess I remember a lot more than I thought I did... 'Wh-At's, thee, da-tay?' Da-tay." She made it sound like an arcane spell. Probably felt that way too. "Are you saying... date? Erm... well, we're somewhere mid-Fall. Five O' ... Five O' Sixth, last I heard? Time really flies," She narrowed her eyes suddenly to the girl, "Wait, just how long have you been down there? A whole year?"

*Clatter*

Both the paper and the quill fell once again, this time not from uncoordinated hands, but from her grip loosening. The girl's face had gone pale, though it was hard to tell due to her already-deathly pale complexion.

Her mouth hung open as her eyes widened, and she likely would have been struggling for words if she could speak. A cold sweat formed on her body as waves of deep, unnerving dread began to course through her.

She stared down at her palms, as if unbelieving of the sight of them. They shook along with the rest of her small form, shivering worse than before. Very visible tears sprouted from her eyes as the shock began to wear down, and the girl broke down right there, her sobs forcing her into another coughing fit as she buried her face into her hands.