The automobile, seemingly ill-suited for the current road conditions, continued to jump about on the road, not yet having made it to the Empire's border proper. The wanderer, having been saved by the vehicle's inhabitants only a few moments prior, found himself full of questions - mostly about his saviors.
“So… You’re not gonna suck my blood, right?”
Elia blushed and giggled, while Sara smiled, displaying her long, sharp canines in clear view. “No promises.”
The wanderer’s eyes suddenly widened. “...”
“Just kidding, just kidding.” Sara said, laughing and covering her mouth. “Perhaps a thousand years ago, you might have been on my menu; after all, my great-grandfather was quite well known among the legionnaires in those days for that. However, we Upyirs are a noble race now. To take the blood of a man today, especially for a lady like myself, has…” She looked out the vehicle’s window. “...certain connotations.”
Awkward. “I see… so, uh… you don’t drink blood at all, I guess?”
Sara shook her head. “Not quite that, either. We mostly eat ‘normal’ food, much like yourself, however we also must take in some human blood in order to maintain our… vitality. Deprived of the blood of a human, we become simultaneously weakened and, ah, agitated.” She looked back ahead. “There is no reason to prey upon people anymore, though; we merely pay young, unmarried women to provide their own blood - packaged and sterile, of course. Nobody is harmed in the process; everyone stands to gain.”
“Upyirs are a noble race? Are there ‘not-noble’ races?”
“Of course. Far beyond the Empire’s borders, various races of devils stalk the great wastehills and the ruins within them, into eternity. Elvians live in solitude in the grey tundras beyond the northernmost mountains and forests, and, on occasion, the unlucky outsider wandering the Northern Forests you just escaped may find himself face-to-face with a devil of a far more cannibalistic disposition than our own.”
The wanderer’s eyes widened once again. “...wait, really?”
“Count yourself among the lucky, outsider. Many more races populate the Empire and the uncivilized lands outside it.”
‘A world of monsters and demons? Seriously? This seems almost cliche. Next, she’ll probably say magic is real.' the wanderer thought to himself. “So… what really makes you different from me?”
“Beyond the obvious, what differentiates us - Upyirs, and, more broadly, those of us not strictly human, Jinnsa - from you - a presumably pure-blooded human - is that we are innately thaumatic beings.” Sara brought up her left hand and began to look at her palm; a strange, red-pink glow began to emanate from it. When she closed her hand, the light vanished. “To many, though, that is meaningless. To truly make use of thaumatic abilities, we have to undergo extensive studies and training; to us Upyirs, such a thing is the job of those uninvolved with the intrigues of nobility.” She looked back to the wanderer. “For you, thaum can only be utilized with the assistance of a thaumatic artifact and similar training.”
‘Thaum?... magic. No kidding. Next, she’ll say she’s five hundred years old.’
“Huh,” The wanderer grunted, scratching his scraggly beard. “Going back, though? Your great-grandfather? A thousand years ago? Does that make you…?”
“Hmph.” Sara pouted. “It’s rude to ask a lady her age.”
The wanderer chuckled and scratched the back of his head. “My bad, my bad.”
“...but to answer your question,” Sara said, grinning smugly. “I am much your senior, outsider.”
