Edwin brushed the ashes of one Fernand Polites off himself and got up. The sun was on the horizon now, but he didn’t feel like he was burning. There was a certain hunger inside him that demanded blood. A hunger brought about from the change to who he was. What he was.

He got up slowly and moved towards the exit to the tourney grounds. How was he going to explain to Hadrian that he had killed his brother? A deranged giggle escaped his lips. Guess there was a boiling point even for calm Edwin Roberts.

Now what? If he went home, he might tear a hole into Daniel, and wouldn’t that undo all the care he had put into the ungrateful ass? He shook his head. It was childish to be pissed off about words when he had just killed someone.

Someone who had it coming, but still. He had felt none of the satisfaction he had felt from Fredrick’s screams, but there was some dark amusement inside him that threatened to consume him. To reshape him.

And maybe, this was what he needed. He was so tired of being walked on. Of being called a charlatan. He was a Boliarin. They had castles and guards and were respected. No one would have called Karl Lambert a charlatan. No one would have smirked and teased Aleric Stormcrow.

But they were both dead, weren’t they? Ultimately, pawns for their governments. Easily discarded in a silent war. And Edwin didn’t want that for himself. He wanted a sense of freedom. Something his new state of being could provide.

Then he stopped to think. Does he stop healing? He enjoyed helping. It made the gaping hole left by Helena and the children less cold and less dark. It completed him to see someone no longer requiring his help.

Furthermore, it had been his dream. When he was little, he played around in his mother’s clinic and helped the patients with kind words. The more he grew up, the more advanced his help became. Then he went to the academy, only to find that there was nothing new to learn. Just political nonsense.

His short-term goal was to destroy dungeons, but what difference would that make? The main problem in the world was healers who wouldn’t heal. People who didn’t take their oaths seriously.

What could he do about this, thou? He wasn’t a king…wait. Could he? Valyr wouldn’t see it coming. He had placed him in the line of succession because he didn’t even think Edwin capable of such a thing.

What was he thinking? Him, getting the king killed? Ruling through Elidys until the boy became of age? He felt dirty then. This was not him. This was the bloodlust talking.

There had to be a way for a bloodless revolution. A meeting here, a protest there. He needed to start somewhere, and he was already in the Surian Theocracy. Duria’s gates were closed for him by his wish. Yes, he will throw stones in the water here and the ripples would travel across the world.

If he had his way, then sicknesses won’t be spread by the corrupt and those with weak wills anymore. Let the royals find another way to wage wars. He, Edwin Roberts, now had an eternity to make this happen.

And he knew where to start. The Hafnon family was wronged by Duria because he spied on them. He stole from them too. They would like to bring him to justice, but maybe he could offer them something better for their cooperation. A favor for a favor.

They knew healer from across the theocracy. They could gather them, talk to them and even bribe them, if need be. Once the healers here rebelled, then the world at large will know that healers are not meek sheep anymore.

With sure steps, Edwin walked through the morning rays and went back to their apartment. Daniel was waiting by the door. He opened his mouth to say something, but then his eyes fixed on Edwin’s.

“Why are your eyes red?” The warrior stood up from his place on the welcoming mat and gripped his sword.

“I am a vampire. I had a scuffle with one Fernand Polites. Do put that away. I am in no mood for your antics now,” Edwin tried to sidestep Daniel, but the muscled warrior placed a hand on his shoulder.

“If you hurt the kids,” the hand was brushed off and Edwin snorted.

“They are my kids, remember? I’ll eat pig blood with beer. Unlike Hadrian, I never cared much about the quality of my food,” Daniel nodded and then shifted uncomfortably.

“Look, I wanted to apologize,” he began, and Edwin turned his now crimson eyes to look at him. “For what I said. The other healers turned me away. Not only that, but they send the cleaners after me. You did your best.”

“It seems that these days that is the only thing I do,” came the cryptic answer. Daniel could feel the disappointment sipping out of Edwin. “I’ll be punching through a rotten beehive. Do you want to help?”

“Do share details,” Daniel was ready to repay Edwin’s kindness. He just hoped that it wasn’t something as outlandish as starting a revolution or something.

“I am going to remake the mindset of every healer in the world.”

Daniel looked at Edwin and he blinked.

“You are joking, right?” The warrior didn’t know what had to happen for healers to stop being lapdogs, but he imagined it had to be big.

“A brave new world, Daniel. One where people like you won’t get a death sentence instead of a treatment. A world where Hadrian won’t be judged because he is a vampire.”

“He will still be judged because of his sticky fingers,” joked Daniel. Edwin cracked a smile.

“Well, that is our Harry. Did he tell you what he needed help with?” Edwin hadn’t forgotten that Hadrian needed him to do some spying. That was simple enough. Edwin could do this much for his friend.

“Well, it aligns with what you currently want. There is a clinic in the Tsardom of Mopia that still produces viruses. Harry needs proof to shut it down.”

Edwin nodded. This was the rallying cry he needed to snap the healers of the world from their dream like way of living. And if he dragged the politicians of the Tsardom of Mopia through the mud, then all the better.