In the peculiar world of the repentant vampires of the church, daily life was an exercise in tradi and ic restraint.

  “Good M, child of God,” one of them ofteed him.

  From dawn till dusk, sometimes till dawn again, these vampires swathed themselves in full-body robes, the women’s eyes hidden behind bck mesh and the men’s faces veiled as if they were plotting a ba rather than attending m prayers.

  The reason, ostensibly, was to avoid the deadly kiss of sunlight, though Burn couldn't help but suspect it also spared them the indignity of suns.

  “My, there’s a huma? Is the youngsters okay iing closely with a human…?” some old ones meekly muttered in worry.

  “It’s okay, we’ll hunt more mooday to satiate the cravings.”

  These vampires had turheir backs on human blood a, adopting a diet that would make any vegan proud—if, that is, vegaed on animal blood instead of tofu.

  They meticulously draiheir noal catches, treating the whole process with the solemnity of a tea ceremony, albeit one where the tea screams and tries to run away.

  this, Burn wondered if there was a Michelin star category for morally flicted butchers.

  “Let’s the hall after prayer.”

  “Careful not to create any symbol on the ground with stains or dust when ing. It’s dangerous.”

  Iheir sanctuary, devoid of any traditional religious symbols—because apparently, for them, proximity to such items could lead to spontaneous bustion—the vampires gathered to worship.

  This was no ordinary church. Here, prayer was more about not turning into a barbecue than about spiritual enlighte.

  “Okay, ure for prayers too. I know how much you want to embody your belief, but let’s keep it in our heart.”

  Burn mused whether their prayers were more pleas for fiveness or just requests to not catch fire mid-sermon.

  Their decision to forsake human blood for animal was uded as a signifit ethical step, akin to sing out a gas-guzzler for a hybrid—only much messier.

  As night fell and they ventured out in groups, the hunting party looked less like a gregation and more like a fsh mob about to break into a chraphed routine.

  “We go farther today, right?”

  “There’s monsters a bit to the north!”

  Burn, witnessing all this, couldn't decide if he was watg a profound transformation or just a particurly bizarre episode of lifestyle dotary for the undead.

  Either way, he kept his snark to himself, half-expeg a vampire to turn to him and ask if he'd prefer his animal blood shaken or stirred. While smiling.

  In their unorthodox spiritual encve, dietary restris extended beyond just a preference for the animalistic over the anthropomorphic.

  “N… no. No pork. Yes, no boar, or orcs… sorry. You eat that yourself, of course! Don’t waste food!”

  Pork, for instance, was off the menu—not due to any religious taboo, but because, as the vampires solemnly decred, it tasted eerily remi of humans.

  Burn found this dietary quirk both horrifying and hirious, w if there was a vampire version of a pnt-based diet where 'pnt-based' hemism for 'not-taste-like-a-person'.

  Fasting became their new pastime, a way to stave off the more ivorous cravings.

  This wasn't yrandma's idea of fasting—no mere abstention from snacks between meals—but a full-on denial of their deepest, darkest desires.

  It was like watg someory to diet at a buffet; ultimately futile.

  “There’s a huma… fasting bee so much more difficult…”

  Burn, these efforts, specuted whether their step would be joining Vampires Anonymous: "Hi, my name is Vd, and it's been forty days since my st human."

  Alcohol was another no-no; not because it was beh them, but rather disappointingly, because it had no effect.

  It turns out that being undead seriously undermines your ability to catch a buzz.

  This led them to abandon spirits for spiritlessness, although Burn hat their avoidance of wine didn't stop them from menting over blood as if discussing a fi.

  “I’m sorry. Do you like alcohol? Seasoning? Oh… garlic? Sorry, that’s also…”

  “We don’t have that here… in bread, as much as you like?”

  Garliaturally, was the ary boogeyman. Not for any mystical reason, but simply because it stunk. This aversion gave Burn endless amusement; he mused that a vampire’s version of hell robably a garlic farm.

  Pets? Dogs were out of the question—too much historical baggage siheir werewolf cousins had once served as vampire underlings.

  Instead, they opted for cats, those paragons of indiffereo teach them the fi of restraint and the cold shoulder. Watg a vampire attempt to win over a cat was like a stand-off between two masters of disdain.

  Burn’s days among the vampires were filled with these absurdities, each more bizarre tha.

  He often caught himself chug under his breath, not sure if he was in a horror story or a dark edy.

  As he scribbled notes for future reference, he wondered how one might expin these undead etrieone who had never seen a vampire trying to pet a cat, or fasting to avoid turning into a monster—literally.

  It was clear, whether through divine edy or diabolic irony, these vampires were trying to find their path to redemption, one awkward, animal-blood-de a time.

  “So? You have talked to each of our members? Have you found what you seek?”

  In the serene courtyard of the church, where the sound of ughter flitted through the air like fetti, Father Vd, sat perched on a weathered stone bench.

  His p served as a throne for the bck cat that had first heralded Burn’s secretive arrival, now purring tentedly as if it were the keeper of all church secrets.

  Around them, children vampires frolicked in a blur of bck robes and veils, their games a macabre twist on typical childhood py, resembling a gathering of tiny grim reapers more than anything else.

  Beside Vd, Burn sat with a demeanor that hovered between intrigue and irritation.

  Burn shifted slightly, the stoh him doing little for fort. “Not even a whisper about the Infich. Are you even a member of society? How could you not know about her?”

  Vd chuckled, a sound that stirred the leaves at their feet. “Like I said, most of us only khe geion of your parents… randparents… reat grandparents? What year is it…?”

  Burn couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Here he was, sittio a vampire who thought eternal damnation could be a pune, in a church that seemed to double as a gothic daycare, searg for a witch that no one seemed to know.

  “Maybe… we know her, but not with the name you proposed,” Vd mused, stroking the cat, which seemed to smirk at Burn’s frustration.

  “Or maybe everyone’s just pying dumb,” Bured, his voice tinged with the weariness of a man who had been through too many crypts.

  The versation huween them, a taut thread ready to snap, as the children's shrieks of joy provided a stark, eerie trast to their somber discussion.

  “Why are you looking for this girl anyway, boy? Pnning to marry her when you grow up? How sweet…"

  Burn ched his fists, feeling his blood pressure surge—a on side effect of versing with this particur vampire. "She cursed me," he mao say through gritted teeth. "And I io make her lift it, by force if needed."

  "Oh dear… a curse? Why are youhese days so dramatic about romahe old man murmured, shaking his head and clig his tongue in dismay.

  “I really am about to speak informally to you,” Burn spoke iween his gritted teeth.

  "Have you told us what she looks like?"

  "I've already told you! You senile old man!"

  "Oh… How does she look again…?"

  "This is the fifth time I've told you!"

  "Yeah, just help this old man out, boy."

  "You don't really io help me, do you?"

  Silence.

  Burn silently groaned, and finally told him how Man Le Fay in his memory looked like once again.

  “She was breathtakingly beautiful, as if the sun itself had chosen to dim its light to let her brilliance shine more freely,” Burn began.

  "We're talking about a woman who could make the suimid," Burn shrugged. "That even the brightest celestial body in our sky might feel, you know, bashful, kinda."

  Her image started to dan his mind, “Her hair fell in golden waves, each strand shimmering with the hues of dawn, defying the ordinary with… some sort of silent elegance.”

  “Her eyes, are so, so blue. She smiled and it was a gateway to ic mischief, literally.”

  Burn massaged his temples. “I thought I was dreaming wheood in front of me.”

  “The boundaries of reality seemed to blur and expand, not merely because of her apparehereal appearance, but because well, I don’t know.”

  Burn, in his ear admiration, saw her not just as a figure of beauty but as a bea of intrigue and allure, a person whose ughter could turn tides and whose presence made the ordinary extraordinary.

  However, it seemed that his attempt to genuinely describe what he felt about her appearance, although clumsy—not just a mere description like he had given at his court a few loops ago—left the old man...

  Well, the old man beside him appeared struck speechless. Even through his head cs, Burn could sehe man's jaw drop, his mouth hanging open in astonishment.

  “A-are you a child?” Vd asked, gehinking Burn was a child and now surprised because of the ‘child’’s insight.

  “I’m an adult!” Burn snapped.

  “How old are you again?”

  “I’m 27.”

  “You’re a baby. A genius baby. Dear god.”

  “This old—”

  "Well, if you describe her like that, I might know who you're talking about," the old man said, effectively halting Burn's outburst.

  Burn widened his eyes, “You know?”

  CRASH!

  “GET OUT, DEMON WORSHIPERS!”

  “THIS CHURCH IS A SCAM!”

  While Burn and Vd were chillin' in the courtyard of this quaint rural church, minding their own business, out of nowhere, a whole swarm of folks started gathering like it's about the hottest shit in town.

  Burn sighed, “Seriously, again? Right when I am about to find out something important?”

  “GO AWAY!”

  “WE’RE GOING TO BURN THIS PLACE DOWN!”

  It seemed that it was going to get hotter any minute now. Like seriously.

  But wait, there's more!

  DRAP-DRAP-DRAP!

  Suddenly, out rode this squad of knights on their high horses, gleaming armor and all kinds of fgs. Like, talk about making arance. And in the lead?

  Burn massaged his temples. He turoward Vd, expression hiddeh the veil, “What’s wrong with this pce? Look, they brought out a big guy here.”

  Mr. Shiny Armor himself, looking like he just walked out of a medieval fashion show. Couldn't miss him even if you wao.

  “He’s definitely a royalty,” Bured his fa his arm, leaning forward nontly. “ you fix it with your mind trol again?”

  Definitely couldn’t. This big guy was a force user. Quite a good ooo.

  Burn was right. What was the deal with this pce? Were they about to witness a vampire hunt right in the churchyard? Or something else…

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