Chapter 341: Farewell, Undergrowth Part 1

 

  Callum Veres walked down the busy streets of Undergrowth’s outer districts with a small bounce to his steps. It was early in the afternoon and many folks, especially travelers, were bustling throughout the city eager to taste one more hot meal before beginning the long journey home.

  People whispered to each other and many cheered as they recognized the young Veres vampire. Callum smiled proudly. His team had done the unthinkable. They had defied the expectations of the masses —commoners and aristocrats alike— and had won the Great Cities Tourney.

  Callum ran his fingers across the silver necklace hanging over his shoulders. The sunlight glinted off the polished ruby and diamond set at the center of the necklace. The two precious stones represented his bi-manifold nature, Red and White chromatic mana.

  He had worn plenty of jewelry throughout his life, but none of it felt as precious as the mage necklace. He had trained, studied, and worked so hard the last three years for the silver amulet, the symbol of a genuine mage. No longer was he just a mageborn or a novice struggling to cast a simple ward spell. He was finally a mage of the Ebon Realm.

  Finally, he smiled to himself.

  He was one step closer to achieving his dreams.

  Callum began to whistle a cheerful tune as he walked. After a few minutes, he reached his destination, a stone bridge looming over a small river that ran through the city. He glanced around for Belle and found her in a matter of seconds. Her 7-foot frame was easy to spot amidst the bustling crowds.

  Belle stood near the bridge’s parapet, staring down at the river below. She glanced up at Callum the moment he spotted her. Their scarlet eyes met and he smiled happily. She smiled, but it was strained, almost painful.

  Callum raised a questioning eyebrow. He walked over to her and bowed with an over-exaggerated flourish, “Master Sylvie, as requested, I am here.”

  “Thanks for coming,” she couldn’t help but chuckle.

  “So, how does it feel to be a master mage?” Callum glanced at her silver mage necklace hanging over her aurum aegis.

  Five precious stones were embedded in her necklace; A sapphire, an emerald, a jasper, a grey moonstone, and a teardrop-shaped onyx. A golden trim around the amulet denoted her rank as master.

  Belle glanced down at her own amulet and shrugged, “It’s nice, I suppose.”

  “Nice? That’s it?!” he shook his head. “Geniuses, I tell you, they’re never satisfied.”

  Belle smiled lopsidedly, “I guess so.”

  “The rest of the team is out celebrating at a local tavern, just a few blocks from here. I know you said you weren’t up for drinks, but I hired some barmaids who are willing to let us drink some of their blood. What do you say to that?”

  “I think I’ll still pass,” she said apologetically.

  Callum leaned his back on the parapet and looked up at her, “...Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine, the healers did a good job tending to my wounds,” Belle rolled her shoulders.

  “I meant emotionally. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m just not used to losing,” Belle’s face scrunched with disgust just saying that statement.

  “I get that, I really do… but you’ve been acting off since before your match. Something else is going on isn’t it?”

  Belle bit her lip, “...I’d be lying if I said there wasn’t.”

  Callum grabbed her hand gently, “What is it? You can tell me anything, you know.”

  “That’s just it…” she slowly pulled her hand away, “I can’t.”

  Callum blinked and laughed awkwardly, “If this is about those golden flames of yours, I get it. You don’t have to talk to me about that if you don’t want to. I won’t pry.”

  “It’s not just that,” she sighed. “There’s a lot about me, my past, who I am… I can’t really explain.”

  “Can’t…? Or don’t want to?” Callum asked slowly.

  Belle looked at him with a pained expression.

  A cold feeling settled in the pit of his stomach, “…Sylvie, why did you want to meet me here?”

  “...I thought it’d be easier saying goodbye to one person, rather than everyone.”

  He frowned, “You’re leaving…? When will you be back?”

  “...”

  Callum smiled bitterly, “…I see.”

  Belle bit her lip, “There are things I wish I could tell you, but—”

  “Then why don’t you?”

  She took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes, “I’m not the person you think I am.”

  “You’re not the most amazing woman I’ve ever met?” Callum said playfully, though pain marred his expression.

  “I’m not a dire…”

  “What?” he blinked, then laughed. “What do you mean you’re not a dire? You’re 7 feet tall. Are you telling me you weren’t always bigger than everyone else?”

  “No, that much is true. But still, I’m not a dire… I’m not even half-human. I’m not like you.”

  “I don’t understand,” he furrowed his brow.

  “I wish you could, but…” She glanced up at the sun shining down from the sky, “...These last few days I’ve been thinking… about who I am, what that means to me, and to this realm. My mother always told me we have an obligation to the Ebon Realm, to keeping the people of this land safe… and she was right. It’s time I try to meet that obligation, even if only for a little.”

  Belle placed her hand over her chest, “If not for my mother, then for myself. I’m done running from what lurks in the dark.”

  “...I understand… At least, I think I do. I’m happy for you, I truly am,” Callum swallowed the lump in his throat. “Will you, uh… send letters at least? Let us know if you're okay?”

  Belle suddenly leaned down and kissed him on his lips. Callum stiffened in surprise, his eyes wide open.

  After a long, tense second, Belle stepped back, “…I’m sorry, but the person you fell for isn’t the real me. I like you, but the reality is you and I can never be…”

  “That’s cold, Sylvie, even for you,” he chuckled weakly.

  “...My name is Belle.”

  “Of the Great House of Ashe, I presume.”

  Her eyes widened, “How did you—?”

  “It took me a while, but I figured it out. You’re some distant relative, perhaps a child born out of wedlock. You look like her, you know, Hollow Shade’s high priestess, Lady Calantha. Except for your scarlet hair, of course.” He grinned, “See, I know you better than you think.”

  She smirked, “Yeah, you really do.”

  “But it’s not enough, is it?”

  “...No, I’m afraid not.”

  He sighed and stared down at the flowing river, “...What do you want me to tell the others?”

  “Tell them I’m sorry for the shitty goodbye… Tell them I was grateful to call them my friends.”

  “...Anything else? Something to Poppy, maybe?” 

  Belle remembered the orc spy from the academy. Despite everything, she was grateful to the orc, to her first friend. “Poppy will be fine. There’s more to her than meets the eye.”

  “She always did strike me as a bit odd,” Callum shrugged.

  “One last thing, if you could, tell Stryg that someday, somewhere, I’ll find him, and we can settle our match properly.”

  “I bet he’ll like that,” he muttered without looking at her.

  “Thank you, for everything… Goodbye, Cal.”

  “Goodbye, Belle.” Callum turned around, but she was already gone, lost in the crowd.

  He turned back to the parapet and bowed his head. A tight pain pulled at his chest. Tears slipped down his cheeks and fell down to the river below. Callum laughed shakily, “Goddammit, this really sucks.”

 

~~~

 

  House Katag had rented out a local tavern for the day in honor and celebration of Hollow Shade’s tourney victory. Dozens of soldiers stood watch outside as the Katag family, their friends, and members of Hollow Shade’s team drank, danced, and sang inside. Feli and Elena Katag were particularly good dancers and surprisingly danced well together. They moved with a sultry grace as the minstrels played, Rhian sang, and the others clapped.

  Stryg sat at a corner of the tavern, drinking his fourth mug of mead. Blossom hung snugly over his shoulders, the white flower petals were surprisingly warm.

  Maeve slid into the chair across from him and smiled, “Lord Aspirant.”

  “Lady Mora,” Stryg bowed his head.

  “How does it feel?”

  “The cloak? It’s soft and it smells like flowers.” He shook his head in disappointment, “It doesn’t inspire fear, that’s for certain. Worse, it can’t even fly.”

  She giggled, “I meant how does it feel being this year’s champion. Also, don't complain about Blossom, that cloak is worth more than all your belongings combined a hundredfold.”

  “I guess…” he admitted. “But I still like this more,” Stryg lifted the mage necklace from under his black tunic.

  A single large opal was fixed on the silver amulet. A myriad of colors glimmered off the opal in the torchlight of the tavern.

  “Congratulations, you’re finally a master in power and in name,” she smiled.

  “And in duties,” he added. “I’ve been teaching you Red magic since last year. That technically makes you my apprentice.”

  “Does that mean I should start calling you master?” she leaned in coyly.

  Stryg was suddenly very aware of her petite body, so close to him. Her sweet scent filled his nostrils. “T-that’s…”

  Maeve grinned and leaned back. “Don’t worry, I know our special arrangement is ‘secret,’” she winked.

  Stryg let out a tense breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Right…” he said and sipped his drink.

  Maeve tapped the table with the tips of her fingers, “So, what are you doing over here all by your lonesome self? Why aren’t you dancing with the others?”

  “I rather not open my wounds.”

  Maeve winced, “Ah, right, sorry.”

  “It’s fine. Feli thinks I’m a subpar dancer, anyway.” He frowned, “Even after Cornelius gave me lessons.” 

  “Awe, is someone’s pride hurt?” she teased.

  “Pfft, please. There are more important things to life than dancing, like drinking.”

  “And how’s that going for you?”

  “Not good,” he sighed. “It’s becoming harder and harder to get drunk these days. Not to mention the mead around here is terrible. I can’t even remember the last time I was drunk. Ugh, I miss the Merry Crescent.”

  “You know what? That’s fair. Drow spirits are quite tasteless,” Maeve pushed her mug aside. “If you ask me, drow blood is much tastier.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mhm…” Maeve’s expression grew dark, “Stryg… I actually came over here because I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

  He immediately noticed the change in her voice. His lilac eyes grew cold and his slit pupils narrowed, “What happened? Did someone hurt you?”

  “No, nothing like that,” she chuckled. 

  “Then what is it?” he asked curiously.

  “I’ve been having dreams, magical dreams…”

  A cold shiver ran down Stryg’s spine. “Wait, you’ve been using Synchrony magic? I thought we agreed you wouldn’t use true magic because the Monster might find you,” he whispered harshly.

  “I know, but, well, I already met the Monster in the Dark in my dreams, several times actually,” she admitted bashfully.

  “You— what!?”

  “It’s not like what you think. We’ve got it all wrong. Ann isn’t the monster you believe she is.”

  “Ann?”

  “That’s what she called herself. She told me you’d recognize the name.”

  A faint memory scratched at the edge of his mind. He ran his hand through his hair, “She was a goblin… in my dreams… when I fell from a cliff in Widow’s Crag.”

  “And she appeared to me as a tall, dark-haired vampiress when the Katag mansion was attacked. Ann is the one who warned me of the attack. She helped us. She isn’t our enemy.”

  “How do you know? We don’t even know what this ‘Ann’ actually looks like.”

  “But we do know she saved you from the Dark Fringe, right?”

  “How did you—?”

  “Ann has told me a lot of things, more than you realize. She is not our enemy, she never was.”

  “Maeve,” Stryg reached out and grabbed her hand, “You’re my family, you are part of my tribe, and I would do anything to keep you safe.”

  “As would I,” she said and placed her other hand over his.

  “Then please listen to what I have to say; We, our tribe, are the only ones you can truly trust.”

  “...I know,” she whispered.

  “Then trust me now,” he squeezed her hand. “We know too little and until we know more about who this Monster really is, don’t speak with her again. Don’t use your synchrony magic, please.”

  Maeve bit her lip and nodded reluctantly, “...Okay.”

  Stryg’s pointed ears twitched. Amidst the dancing and singing of the party-goers, his sensitive hearing picked up a familiar voice.

  “Let me through!” a woman shouted from outside the tavern.

  “You can’t come in here! I won’t tell you again!” one of the guards yelled threateningly.

  The sound of the steel sliding out of its sheath echoed in the goblin’s ears.

  Maeve furrowed her brow, “Stryg…?”

  Stryg jumped to his feet and ran to the doorway. He slammed the door open with a kick, “If you fucking touch her I’ll rip your skull apart!”

  The Katag guard with his drawn blade stiffened to a halt. He slowly looked up at the tourney’s champion and the future son-in-law of his lord and lady. The orc paled in fear and dropped his sword immediately. “I-I-I didn’t mean to… I’m sorry, Lord Aspirant!” he bowed deeply.

  Stryg ignored the guard and glanced at the woman standing breathlessly in front of the tavern, “Plum, are you alright?”

  Plum shook her flushed face and rested her hands on her knees as she panted heavily, “You… you all… need to run!”

  “What?” Stryg cocked his head to the side.

  “Thorns… They’re coming… to kill… all of you!”