After the struggle that ensured, Hannibal had a dagger in his heart and Kyla a broken arm. It was a good trade-off, considering he could have ended up dead. He stared down at the still Phoenician.

His blood called to Kyla. Kyla crawled to him and then, his hand hovered over the man’s chest. He wanted to taste vitae again. But then, the face of Constantine swam in the forefront of his mind, and he hesitated.

No. Not now, not ever. He was never going to be as weak as to depend on another to get his fix. He didn’t need a fix, either way. Furthermore, he took out a sword and, with two swings, decapitated what must have been one of the most famous generals to date. And then, Hannibal the Cannibal turned to dust.

Kyla felt his head become clearer. As if this was a test, and he had gotten through it. He was ready to go home. First, he put his arm in a sling. Fortunately, it was his left one. Then, he packed and got down the trail that Hannibal must have come up from.

As he carefully descended, he looked around. The trail was a traitor, with ice hidden by snow. And the surrounding cliff was covered with jagged rocks. He made it down to the village by nightfall. The people there were hiding in their homes. Kyla wondered why.

Knocking on a door, he was let in minutes later.

“You don’t look like one of them,” said the man of the house. “From where do you hail from, traveler?”

“Scythia,” said Kyla.

“That is far from here. I take it you are searching for a place to stay the night?” Kyla nodded. He was given a blanket and a place in the barn. As he laid down amid the hay, he drifted off to sleep. Just before he fell asleep, he heard it. Howling.

It was like nothing he had ever heard before. It was drawled out and was more akin to the howling of a human, than of an animal. Kyla gripped his dagger and exited the barn. He could feel someone running around the streets. Someone wild.

And that being could feel him too. It turned out to be a Garou, which sniffed at him and backed off. More Garou circled Kyla, and he looked all around him.

“I mean you no harm,” he spoke in Latin. One of the Garou shifted back to human form.

“You smell like a vampire,” snarled the werewolf. Kyla lowered his dagger.

“But you can also smell that I am not one of them. And I smell of them because I just killed one,” the werewolf sniffed at Kyla and nodded.

“Which one?”

“Hannibal,” at the name, the surrounding Garou began to growl.

“He has been a pest ever since he ended up stranded here. You have my thanks. Since you hunted him down before we could, we’d like to give you a boon,” spoke the human looking Garou.

“How about you all go and live up in the mountains from now on? You have scared the villagers,” at that, the Garou bared his teeth.

“We were trying to get Hannibal out of our hunting grounds. We live in this village. Never have we harmed any humans,” Kyla nodded, relieved. “But you must still get a boon.”

“Save passage through Garou territory sounds fair,” said Kyla. As a former ghoul, he could easily end up torn to shreds by Garou, if the only thing they could smell on him was a vampire scent.

“Do you keep the company of vampires?” Asked the Garou, suddenly suspicious.

“I do,” Kyla decided to be truthful, for, if he was not, then the Garou would find out anyway. “But they are far away. In Rome.”

“But, they will not come here now that you have cleared the territory from Hannibal?” Kyla shook his head.

“These lands are a bit too wild for them,” assured them, Kyla and the Garou nodded. Then, as one, they ran off to the edge of the village. Kyla went back inside the barn and laid down, sleep finally taking him.

The next morning, he was given bread and cheese and told to leave. Kyla left the village with the village general goods merchant, who was going to restock. He was given the pack mule to ride.

“You are so pale,” commented the merchant. Marcus.

“Well, I do hail from Scythia,” replied Kyla. Looking around the scenery and wondering if the Garou were going to keep their word.

“I can find you beige tunics that will make you less pale,” said the merchant, and Kyla grinned.

“I have clothes, but, thank you for the offer,” the merchant looked like he was not going to give up, however.

“I have this thing, really rare,” said the merchant, and he rummaged in his saddle backs to take out a mirror. “It shows your dreams.”

Kyla scoffed at that.

“I already paid for the trip. And I am not looking to buy anything,” the merchant put away his “magical” mirror and looked forward.

“Tell me, Scythian, do you have a family?” At those words, Kyla’s heart ached for Constantine and their children.

“I have a spouse and triplets. And we are raising his brother alongside them,” the merchant nodded. Then, he showed Kyla a small wooden carving of a woman.

“I have a family too. This is my wife,” then, he pocketed the carving and took out a smaller carving of a boy. “And my son.”

“So, you do this for them?” Asked Kyla distractedly.

“I sure do. I hope to become a caravanner one day, a real one,” Kyla nodded again. He saw a bush twitch, and he knocked an arrow and shot it in the plant. He heard a small squeal and then saw blood pooling down on the earth.

Getting off the mule, he went to the bush. It was a rabbit. White fur and red eyes. He took it and handed it to the merchant.

“Clean this and cook it. Make sure to preserve the pelt. I’ll pay you,” the merchant grinned and proceeded to set up camp.