“He was still my father and I loved him. That’s what I told myself when he came home pale with red eyes. Even with the fangs he still smiled the same and laughed like the man who raised me. So mom and I, we hid him in our cellar during the day and didn’t say a word to the temple, even when the neighbor’s pigs started dying. As the months went past, those words where what kept me going ‘he’s still my father and I love him.’ Even when I saw the bloodstains on his shirt, even when little Darla went missing, even when my mother bolted the cellar door with me still inside it with him… I told my self he was still my father. But by then, he wasn’t any longer.”- Luca of Cippawood speaking to Restbringer Moira Van Valler

  Natalie closed her fist around the tiny skull she held in her hand. She’d pulled the soot-blackened thing from the previous night's campfire and now carried it as a morbid talisman. Telling Cole, she wanted a reminder of her first hunt. He’d seemed a little surprised but hadn’t pushed the topic. The slightly ashen squirrel bones in Natalie’s hand felt incredibly delicate. She could easily crush them to powder and be rid of the temptation. But she didn't, instead keeping the option open.

  Grimacing slightly, she turned to her traveling companion and asked, “Do you think we are in the Southern Marches yet?”

  Cole glanced around the snowy fields around them and shrugged. “I think so? The border is constantly shifting, but we should at least be close.”

  For months they’d traveled through forest and foothills. Leaving the Zaubervold Gap and heading west. Skirting the Dragontail mountains and keeping away from the scattered towns and villages. They’d left the mountains behind weeks ago, their rolling peaks disappearing behind the horizon. The forest that had replaced them had also faded away. Turning to wind-swept plains and now what might be snow-covered farm fields. The weather had worsened in the few days since Natalie’s first hunt. With near constant snowfall covering the land in a white blanket. Only disrupted by an occasional copse of Trees and the Imperial road. A thin grey line cutting through indistinct fields, guiding Cole and Natalie onwards.

  While the snow didn’t ever seem to stop, the wind was surprisingly mild. With only a rare gust sending clouds of loose snow crossing the road in serpentine tendrils. Leaving Cole and Natalie in the muffled silence of winter. The crunch of boots on snow and their conversation the only sound aside from the wind.

  “Where exactly are we headed to?” asked Natalie. “I never got to really map this trip out with Barnabas. So I’m more than a little lost.”

  Cole took a moment to pull up his mental map before answering. “We are going to continue heading west through the Southern Marches. Taking the backroads like we have been until we reach the Alidon River. That's when things will get a bit riskier. We will need to find a boat willing to take us to Vindabon.”

  Glancing around the snowy environment, Cole appended his plans. “Probably a River Sled, now that I think about it. But after a few more weeks of travel, we should reach Vindabon. I don’t think getting into the city will be that hard. My status as a Paladin is known to the local Temples, and that should smooth over any issues we might have. From there, we will need to get lodging and make further plans. Vindabon is a safe city; we should be able to stay there for a few months if need be.”

  Natalie digested that for a few seconds before asking. “I guess I still have some time to practice. I can sustain the False-Life for a few minutes now, but I’m not anywhere as proficient as I need to be.”

  Shrugging slightly, Cole said. “Vindabon is an…eclectic city. While I wouldn’t recommend flaunting your condition, you won’t be marked for death like in most other parts of the Holy League.”

  The matter-the-factness of Cole’s statement made Natalie miss a step. Almost stumbling, she caught herself and felt a whole new set of worries mounting. For some reason, she hadn’t even considered what Cole was suggesting. She’d been so caught up with her status as a fugitive heir in the Blood Duchies. She hadn't realized how other nations might consider her. Not as a pariah or potential asset but as a monster in need of slaying.

  Shuddering slightly, Natalie crossed her arms over her stomach. Seeing this, Cole tried to brighten her mood. “You will be safe as long as you travel with me. It wouldn’t be the first time a Vampire has been bound to a Rest-Bringer.”

  A grimace crossed Natalie’s face at that. The slight core of resentment she felt for Cole was not helped by his words. The idea of being bound to someone, even someone she loved, rankled some part of Natalie. Not only had she lost her home, family, and life, but now her autonomy was severely curtailed. Swallowing that bitter truth down her unnaturally dry throat, Natalie stared off down the road. The grey strip of stone seemed to go on forever, a drab line through the cold wilds.

  Pushing past the bitter taint gnawing on her soul, Natalie put her arm through Cole’s and moved closer to him. The sheer body heat the Homunculus gave off stunned Natalie every time she embraced or touched him. She couldn’t tell how much of it was him and how much of it was her icy Vampire flesh. Either way, the warmth was nice and helped her spirits.

  Looking to further distract herself, Natalie asked Cole. “Can you tell me a story? Something to keep my mind off the road.”

  Reaching down and squeezing her hand, Cole gently said. “Do you want to talk about what's bothering you instead?”

  Natalie shook her head in the negative, her cheek rubbing against Cole’s shoulder with the movement. Giving her cold fingers another gentle squeeze, Cole started speaking. “Have you ever heard of a Manei?”

  Again shaking her head no, Natalie asked dryly. “Let me guess. Is it some kind of undead?”

  Cole snorted in amusement. “I suppose I’ve become predictable. Yes, a Manei is a type of undead, but this isn’t one of my Paladin stories. I’ve never hunted a Manei and doubt I ever will.”

  That caught Natalie’s attention. Cole had told her all manner of tales involving his duties as a Paladin. Grim stories about hunting the Undead and protecting their prospective victims. Stories that Natalie had found herself enjoying less and less these days. In part because Natalie wondered if she would star in one of those stories eventually. While she’d asked Cole to stop her if she became a true Monster. The dreadful prospect of dying by his blade still hung heavily over her.

  A firm squeeze of Cole’s hand pulled Natalie from her melancholic worries. He’d felt the sadness radiate off of her. While Natalie had many skills, hiding her emotions was not one of them. Cole had quickly learned to decipher her moods. An impressive feat considering his own social deficiencies. She hadn’t shared what was bothering her, and that worried Cole. The stress of the past two months had withered some of their connections. A small but noticeable bit of distance had grown between them after leaving Glockmire. Natalie’s grief and ever-turbulent emotions had pulled her away from Cole. While his own guilt and exhaustion stopped him from truly trying to close those gaps.

  Seeing no obvious solution to his worries, Cole started to tell his story. “The first friend I had in this world was a Manei.” Natalie raised an eyebrow at that and considered commenting but decided not to. Her Undead-Hunting Paladin of Death had already fallen in love with two Vampires. By that standard, Cole’s newest revelation was practically banal.

  “I suppose I should explain a bit before continuing. Manei are Wraiths, spirits without bodies. Who are willingly bound to a location by a powerful ritual. They tend to be far more sane and sociable than similar types of Wraith. Acting like a ghostly protector or steward for their home. In the Old Empire, it wasn’t uncommon for Noble Estates to have one or two Manei inhabiting them. My friend was an example.”

  “His name was Pavlos of Pleuron, and he’d watched over Thoas Citadel since the reign of Emperor Drusus. As he was so fond of telling me. Pavlos had been Majordomo to the old Noble Family who created the Citadel and ruled. A job he adored in life, and one he refused to surrender in death.”

  Chewing on this information, Natalie asked, “What did you like about him? Why did you consider him a friend?”

  Cole smiled warmly, old memories returning to him in a gentle trickle. “I’ve never met someone so devoted to a cause. The man spent twelve hundred years protecting and caring for those he was entrusted with. Pavlos had found a purpose and flourished in it. A rarity and something I’ve always aspired to.”

  Absently, Natalie noted a pattern. This wasn’t the first time Cole talked about purpose and duty with such reverence. The man seemed to aspire to a level of commitment Natalie found obsessive. Which was perhaps why he’d been entrusted with the mantle of Paladin in the first place.

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  “As for why I considered him a friend?” Cole continued. “Well, I guess he was the first person I trusted.”

  Absently itching at one of his scars, Cole grimaced. “I wasn’t born or even grown like a normal person. I came to life as an adult with all the knowledge and awareness you’d expect of an adult. Except without any of the structure or understanding to go with it. It’s a little embarrassing to say, but I spent my first few months of life little more than a feral animal.”

  Shutting his eyes tight, Cole tried to describe his experiences. “In those months, Isabelle was busy trying to fix my jumbled mind, so it fell to Pavlos to keep me company. He did a good job too. Helping me learn what it was to be alive and giving me an anchor through the process.”

  Cole looked down at Natalie and saw the confusion plan on her face. Attempting to better explain, he said: “Imagine you have a book with all its pages torn out and scattered about. That was my mind. Isabelle found the pages and put them in order while Pavlos rebound them. Does that make sense?”

  Nodding slowly, Natalie commented. “I don’t ask much about your creation. To be honest, I sometimes forget you are a… what was the term?”

  “Homunculus,” answered Cole. “I’m a Homunculus, an Artificial Person. Created using Flesh-Crafting and other Magic.”

  Cole’s voice was slightly monotone, his face unreadable as he spoke. Frowning slightly, Natalie knew there was something painful under those words. Despite dealing with her own pain, Natalie felt the need to help. Unlinking her hand with his, Natalie stepped in front of the large Homunculus and put her hands on his shoulders. Stopping him mid-stride and forcing him to look into her eyes.

  “Homunculus, Human, Vampire, it doesn't matter to me. You are a special person Cole, and despite everything, I’m glad to have met you. Remember that the next time painful memories are stirred up.”

  Natalie smiled up at Cole, and after a moment, he returned the smile. The sight of her helped chase away some of the dreadful recollections unleashed by her innocent question. Cole’s status as a Homunculus had brought him much grief. Torture, mutilation, exsanguination, and devastating loss could all be traced to his unnatural nature. A fact that weighed heavily on Cole.

  Taking one of her cold hands, Cole kissed Natalie’s palm and said. “Thank you. I feel the same way, Nat.”

  With that little exchange, the two returned to walking down the road. Both knew there was more to be said, but both were also unable to muster the energy or courage to do so. Instead, they settled for the slight balm of mutual kindness. A powerful remedy, but not one capable of truly healing the deep wounds in both their souls.

  Continuing the earlier conversation with a slight alteration, Cole asked: “Who was your first friend?”

  Natalie smiled as old memories played across her mind. The smile died quickly as the conclusion to those memories also came forward. “Her name was Angela. We became friends when I was five, and she was six. Her Dad was a shepherd and farmer who supplied the Silly Goat. So she would come along sometimes when he dropped off produce. Angela had bright red hair, and I thought it was beautiful. I told her as much, and we quickly became friends.”

  Staring off into the distance, Natalie wistfully continued. “We used to play in the Inn’s backyard. Chasing each other between the clotheslines and the like. As we got older, we drifted apart. I continued schooling, and she left to work with her father. But we still remained friends. In fact I played matchmaker between her and her fiance. Angela was always shy, and I pushed her to make the first move with the boy she liked.”

  Shutting her eyes, Natalie finished sadly. “They were going to get married when she turned eighteen. I think they were really in love, not the silly kid stuff, but the real deal. But Angela died in the plague, and Eugen, her boyfriend, was killed in the Breach.”

  The crunch of feet on light snow was the only sound for a little while before Cole let out a mirthless chuckle. “It seems the more things change, the more things stay the same. I seem to remember the two of us walking along a lonely road sharing harrowing stories on more than one occasion.”

  Memories of Angela and Eugen were replaced in Natalie’s mind by her first real talks with Cole. Which seemed remarkably similar to the current situation. Both of them trying to connect to the other while only managing to dredge up past pains in processes. Natalie could see the bitter humor in the parallel and snorted in amusement.

  Looking up at Cole with a bleak smile, Natalie remarked. “There is one major difference. Your story of the Undead was the pleasant one. While mine of simple village life was the tragedy.”

  Nodding in agreement, Cole stiffened slightly as an errant thought crossed his mind. “Oh, I just thought of something I’d forgotten to ask you. Why did you put the statue of Stockings in my bag? I found it the first night after I left, and I’ve kept it. But I keep forgetting to mention it.”

  It was Natalie’s turn to stiffen in surprise. Absently she raised a hand up to her covered hair before stopping herself. She couldn’t play with her hairpin like normal. Getting it in her hair without burning herself was difficult enough, let alone playing with it. Absently, Natalie realized she needed to find other ways to fidget.

  “Ah… that,” she said, a mixture of embarrassment and anxiety coloring her voice. “It's silly, but I didn’t want you to forget me. A year is a long time, and I wanted you to have a reminder of me. I know it's dumb, but….”

  Natalie stopped when she saw the large smile on Cole’s face. Old scars and burns were stretched in a wide grin Natalie hadn’t ever seen before. Eyes shining, Cole reached out for one of Natalie’s fidgeting hands and commented, “You are incredibly cute when you are embarrassed.”

  Eyes wide with sudden indignation, Natalie spat back, “I am not!”

  With the type of lazy amusement usually seen in cats, Cole replied. “Not cute? I must doubt your words, Ms. Natalie.”

  Grinding her teeth in annoyance, Natalie glared up at him. “When did you suddenly become so clever?”

  Cole just shrugged. “I don’t know; around the same time, I noticed you are positively adorable when annoyed.”

  Giving him a playful swat, Natalie had to restrain herself from actually growling. The more animalistic tendencies she’d developed with her condition could manifest at the strangest times.

  “But no, seriously, you have always acted so reserved and abashed. Why the sudden quips and cleverness?” she asked.

  His smile turning fragile, Cole softly said. “I’ve not had anyone I could truly be honest and open with in over a decade. I trust you, Natalie, more than I have anyone in a long time. So I’m letting myself be a little more…verbose and passionate than usual.”

  A flash of guilt hit Natalie. She still hadn’t told him about her talk with Isabelle. Cole’s honesty was not being answered in kind. Swallowing her worries, Natalie tried to push her mind back to better things. “So you really think I’m cute?”

  Cole actually took a moment to consider. “Normally, I’d say you are beautiful or stunning. But yes, in some situations, you are indeed very cute.”

  Basking in the compliments, Natalie snuggled up to Cole and latched onto his arm. Even through her layered clothes, Cole became very aware of exactly how soft Natalie was. Seeing his sudden awkwardness, Natalie smiled and remarked. “You are rather lovely yourself, Cole. Those eyes of yours, pale blue, yet gentle and warm. They are very easy to get lost in.”

  Walking slower, enjoying the feeling of each other, the couple exchanged compliments in the strange, silly way of infatuated youths. To an outsider, it might have looked ridiculous, and if either Cole or Natalie stopped to think about it, they would probably share that outsider's opinion. But for now, both of them just enjoyed being silly with each other. The shameless flirting a balm to tense nerves and a sweetener for jaded hearts.

  “Oh? So what exactly do you like about my-” Natalie’s bold teasing stopped as her sensitive ears caught something. Pulling Cole to a stop, she put her finger to her lips in a shushing motion. Shutting her eyes, Natalie focused on her ears. Feeding a little bit of blood to them to boost her sense of hearing. She’d not experimented with this before but could make some educated guesses about the process.

  The sound of shifting snow and the creaking of distant trees filled Natalie’s ears. Broken up by the crunch of powder beneath heavy feet. No, not feet, hooves. Natalie could hear the steady rhythm of horses from down the road. Clenching her jaw in concentration, Natalie tried to focus on the hoof beats but found it difficult. Every errant gust sounded like a howling gale; every shift of snow was an avalanche. Still, she managed to scrape together a few nuggets of information.

  Letting her focus drop, Natalie whispered to Cole. “Horses, maybe a kilometer or two up the road. I don’t know how many, but I doubt it's more than ten. Should we get off the road?”

  Cole’s hand went to his belt, and the Axe slung there. He glanced around them and at the surrounding fields and ditches. “No, we wouldn’t be able to hide or cover our tracks. It's better if we stay on the road and try not to arouse suspicion.”

  Nodding, Natalie reached for the short sword slung on her lower back. She hadn’t ever used the thing and wondered if it would be of any help if things came to that. Seeing her worry, Cole gave Natalie a reassuring smile. She tried to return it but realized the sight of her fangs might have the exact opposite effect.

  Frowning at the sight of Natalie’s fangs, Cole said, “Keep those hidden and don’t make any sudden movements. Mistrust and aggression are cultural tenants here. The Southern Marches have a long bloody history, and even if they don’t guess what we are, they might still react badly.”

  Natalie nodded and trailed slightly behind Cole. Figuring that he might make a better first impression in all his scarred glory. Trying to calm herself, Natalie forced her body to breathe. Setting a steady rhythm that her heart might follow later. Natalie didn’t know how long she could project false-life, but hopefully, she could use it to avoid any suspicion.

  Cole prepared by nicking his forearm. Letting a little bit of blood flow onto his weapon. Recent experiences had pushed Cole’s skill with blood magic forward a smidgen. He’d learned to “prepare” his weapon beforehand. Shedding blood up to an hour before, he wanted to change its shape. The process wasn’t perfect, but it gave Cole a little more adaptability than he’d previously had. Focused on her breathing, Natalie did her best to ignore the sweet smell of blood in the air. Something helped by Cole’ quickly covering his injury. Deadening the smell just enough.