Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust
                             "Final Hours"

                           by Troy A. Stanton
                      (sailormoonv@sailormoonv.net)


(Author's note: This fanfic follows the events of the original story
  "Winds of Change" (written by me) and also incorporates a few elements
  from the story "Drawing Blood" by Catherine B. Krusberg.  I have her
  permission to make use of her work as a source of material, so anything
  "new" you see in here about D's past with Doris that didn't happen in
  the movie is most likely her original plot material.)

* * * WARNING:  This story contains adult content, please do not read beyond
                 this point if you are easily offended by such things.



     It was the beginning of the end, at least from his perspective, and he was
tired enough to almost be glad for it.  He was old, far older than the one who
was threatening not just his existence but his legacy as well, the legacy of
his entire species.  He was the last true vampire left, and judging from the
chaos echoing down the hallway he would not live to feel the gentle tug of the
rising sun on his dark soul one last time.
     He might have resisted a little more strongly if the sights in the sky
hadn't so thoroughly crushed his hopes.  Pieces of the City of the Night still
rained down at odd intervals, briefly setting the sky ablaze as fragments were
incinerated by friction.  He knew when the magnificent city had been destroyed,
that last bastion of his kind that once twinkled and glittered in the night sky
as it orbited the planet.  All that he wanted to learn in his final hours of
existence was whether or not *he* had anything to do with it, the one who would
shortly be his executioner.
     Enough, he told himself as he allowed his eyes to briefly close.  He knew
this day would come eventually, but he hadn't expected it to be so.... tiring.
Was it the stress of living for so long, watching not just the days or the
years grind past, but the centuries slipping past him, no more noticed than a
single grain of sand among so many others in the hourglass?  Or was it worry
for what the future would be like after he was gone?  He cared little for who
would cry for him, but rather was curious in an academic sense about who would
mourn the loss of his kind.
     She would, of course, but that was to be expected of one's daughter.  He
opened his eyes and turned to look at her, easily seeing so much of her mother
in the soft lines of her face.  He was tired enough not to care about his own
passing, but the last of his children.... that was something else.
     "Galen," he said quietly.  He waited until she lifted her head up, wanting
to see the odd liquid-like coloring of her eyes one last time.  "You should go
from here."
     "I'm not leaving you," she countered.  She dared not raise her voice to
him, but the soft undercurrent of defiance was still quite audible.
     "It is of little use to postpone the inevitable," he said with a gentle
shake of his head.  "I am not sending you away to protect you, as we both know
he will find you eventually.  I merely do not wish to spoil your memory of me,
that is all.  It would break what is left of my heart if you were to see me in
death instead of remembering me in life.  Please, humor an old man and go from
this place.  Confront him if you wish, but do not let it be in my sight for I
want to remember you as you are now.  Please, my daughter," he added in a soft
tone few had ever heard from him before.
     She reached out to touch him, a pair of tears silently falling from her
cheeks as she held his hand for the last time.  The black satin cape around her
shoulders seemed to shimmer slightly before wrapping tightly around her, a hood
sliding over her head to conceal all but the softness of her pale blue lips in
darkness.  "Father, when he comes...." she started to say as she stood up.
     "Please," he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand.  "You need not
worry about any suffering.  My death will be quick and perhaps even painless,
that much I can promise you."  He paused to tilt his head at a slight angle,
listening to the mental screams inside his head as his guards continued to try
to protect him, only to be cut down by a seemingly unstoppable entity.  "He
approaches," he warned her quietly.  "Leave while there is still time."
     "Father...." she whispered quietly, unable to say anything more.
     "You've never defied me before, Galen," he said calmly.  "Do not start to
defy me now.  Go."
     He sighed and leaned back in the throne as she nodded and turned away,
making use of a hidden passage concealed by a modest-sized tapestry.  Perhaps
it was a cliche to have built it as such, but of the six previous visits to his
dark castle by vampire-hunters, only twice had someone lived long enough to
reach his throne room and neither hunter had noticed the concealed door.
     This hunter would be different, however, for that which could easily be
hidden from humans could not be so easily hidden from his kind.  Or from one
with the blood of both.
     Even as he thought about it, he realized that the clangs of metal and the
inaudible screams in his mind had ceased.  He found the silence to be.... a
welcome sound, an indication that this would finally end soon and he would be
at peace with a universe that had tormented him since his descent into the
realm of darkness.
     "So it finally ends," he said quietly as the double doors creaked open.

                *               *               *               *

     D said nothing as he slowly entered the room, his sword held at the ready.
Four colors of blood stained the length of his blade, all slowly running down
towards the tip to drip onto the crimson carpeting.  His eyes never wavered
from the figure seated on the ancient throne, intent on finally fulfilling what
he had come to believe was his sole reason for existence.
     "Greetings, D," the vampire said calmly.  "You would not remember this, of
course, but we have met once before.  You were still a child then, barely more
than a toddler at your mother's knee.  I would welcome you to my castle, but
given the purpose of your visit.... no matter.  Please, sheathe your sword and
have a seat," he added with a gesture to a cushioned stool.  "I should like to
ask you something before I am consigned to being little more than a footnote in
the annals of history."
     D looked at him for a moment before slowly reaching up, sliding his sword
back into the scabbard on his back.  "I think history already has a suitable
place for you, Count Niles," he said in a neutral tone, making no move to sit.
     "Perhaps," the vampire replied with a slow nod of his head.  "I have taken
great pains to verify this one, as you no doubt have as well.  With the utter
destruction of the City of the Night, you and I are the last of the nobles."
     "You and your daughter," D corrected.
     The old man sighed quietly and seemed to slump back in his throne.  "So
you would hunt her down and murder her as well?" he asked softly.  He received
only silence in reply and sighed again.  "No matter, D.  I should like to ask
you a question, and a truthful reply would be appreciated more than you could
possibly know."  He paused for a moment before adding, "The City of the Night."
     "I had nothing to do with its destruction," D replied truthfully.
     Niles nodded slowly, seeming to be relieved at the reply.  "Thank you, D,
I would not liked to have thought that you would have done such a thing.  Or
would you?" he added in a faintly accusing tone.
     D remained silent for a number of moments before speaking up.  "Once my
work here on the planet was finished, I would have sought a way to travel to
the City of the Night," he explained carefully.  "Perhaps destroying it like
that would have been my only option, but it would not have been.... my way."
     "Indeed," the vampire said, a faint hint of a smile crossing his face as
he assessed the dunpeal standing before him.  The moment of humor left just as
quickly as it had come, leaving him feeling even more tired than before.  "Do
you by chance know what happened, then?" he inquired out of idle curiosity.
     "Countess MacDara's shuttle wasn't in her castle," D said calmly.  "When
she died and the castle fell, a band of humans discovered where she had taken
it for repairs.  From what I've heard, they loaded it with the most powerful
explosives they could find and launched it on an automated docking course, set
to blow up when the hatch was opened."
     Niles said nothing for at least a full minute, trying not to think about
the chain-reaction that would have gone off.  He had visited the City himself
in his youth and could picture the way the docking bays were set up.  If the
main hatch was open when the explosives went off, the blast would have coursed
along the network of service conduits to ignite anything combustible it came
across.... like the honeycombs of liquid oxygen tanks.  The blast would then be
multiplied by a frightening factor, spreading throughout the super-structure
until the pressure of the expanding gas ruptured the hull....
     "Ironic that it would be Elaine's shuttle," he finally said softly, more
to himself than to D.  "She was an unusually quiet woman, even among nobles.
Probably one of the few of our kind that I will truly miss.  No matter," he
said with a soft sigh before looking up to stare at D.
     "When I look at you, D, I can easily see the resemblance to your mother,"
the vampire said in a gentle tone.  "I remember the first time I met her, so
full of life and beauty.  It was all too easy to see what your father saw in
such a woman.  Tell me, D, was it her rather brutal murder that drove you to
hate us so, to commit yourself to a one-dunpeal crusade bent on nothing less
than complete and total genocide?"
     D's eyes narrowed as the vampire leaned forward, resting his elbows on his
knees.  "Is that it, D?" Niles mused, a faint look of amusement crossing the
heavy lines of his face.  "Do you still hear her screams in your dreams, hear
her voice calling out for your father, begging for mercy, for release?  I must
confess I sometimes still do," he said absently, leaning back and removing a
gold-plated locket from around his neck.
     D caught the pendant in his left hand as it sailed across the room to him,
casting a single glance down at it before feeling his blood freeze as it had
never froze before in his entire existence.
     "Yes, I remember your mother quite well," the vampire said lightly as he
leaned back even further in his throne.  "I remember how she was brought to me,
right to the very spot where you stand now.  Her clothes had someone failed to
make the trip with her, but that only made it easier for me to marvel at her
true beauty.  Oh, what a woman she was, with such flawless, perfect skin that
was soft to the touch...."
     D's hand tightened around the locket so hard that it began to cut into his
skin, drawing a tiny trickle of blood that slowly oozed down his wrist.  The
thing in his hand began to wriggle uncomfortably as it was also crushed by his
suddenly shaking grip, remaining oddly quiet for reasons of its own.
     "You cannot imagine how sweet her blood tasted, how warm and intoxicating
it was," Niles continued in that mockingly calm tone, a smile that was close to
a sneer on his lips.  "Or how warm and inviting her body was when I raped her.
Her screams still haunt me every now and then, but I have only to stop for a
moment to remember what your father did to my friends to be free from any sense
of guilt.  Strike and be struck, harm and be harmed.... or as the humans say,
an eye for an eye.  Is that not the way your father ruled, D?"
     A soft hissing noise filled the room as D pulled his sword out from the
scabbard.  The blade was still wet with the blood of the vampire's minions,
seeming to gleam in the light like a macabre prism.  The world became a solid
veil of dark blue a moment later as his vampiric nature freely asserted itself,
unbound for once from the normally tight grip of his human will.
     "So the hunter reveals himself," Niles said quietly.  "A little hypocricy
by relying on your father's blood to aid you in killing your father's kind?  No
matter, dunpeal," he said as he unbuttoned his tunic, pulling the halves aside
to bare his chest.  "I grow tired of this, D.  Come, let us see if my death
will silence the screams of your mother.... that wonderful human woman...." he
whispered to himself before he began to laugh.
     D couldn't have refused the offer if he had wanted to.  The air itself
seemed to scream in terror as he sliced through it, charging forward to bury
the tip of his blade in the vampire's chest.  Driven by a fury and rage that
had been countless centuries in the making, the heart muscle was neatly split
in half by the blade's force, held together only by the thinnest threads of
muscle tissue that were sundered an instant later as it reflexively tried to
beat one last time.
     The force behind the thrust would not be, could not be stalled.  The tip
missed the spine by a fraction of an inch and promptly exited through the back.
Encountering the heavy metal of the throne barely slowed the blade as it went
further, blowing through the back of the chair as if didn't exist and embedding
the first two inches of the tip in the solid granite wall that stood behind the
ancient throne.
     The sound of the laughter continued to ring in his ears long after the
voice that had fed it fell silent, the air becoming perfectly still and the
corpse ceasing to twitch beneath his hands.  The sword, however, continued to
vibrate in his hands, subtly at first before increasing in strength to a tremor
that made him slowly edge away.
     <D!> the thing in his hand suddenly yelled.  <Energy trap!>
     It took him a moment to throw off the dark rage and think clearly, the
urgent words registering on his mind a moment later.  He quickly whirled around
and ran for the open doors, able to physically feel the amount of energy that
was gathering behind him.
     The shockwave washed over him just as he dove through the door, trying to
roll with the incredible force of the ancient vampire's soul being freed from
its mortal bonds.  He could feel it searing his skin, countless years of dark
and unholy energy being released in a single burst.  Through it all, despite
the pain of the glare visible even through tightly-closed eyelids, only one
thought rose up from his mind.
     He had just lost Doris' sword back there.
     It was an odd thing for him to have thought of, he realized once the worst
of the energy burst faded away.  He had just found his mother's killer after
all this time, having gave up hope hundreds of years ago that he would be able
to identify which vampire had desecrated her so.  And yet, with her locket in
his hand, the locket he still remembered after all this time.... his mind was
on the sword Doris had given him.
     <D?> it prodded him as he remained perfectly still on the carpet.  <D, we
need to get going.  The castle's starting to come apart already and the front
door isn't just across the hall.  D, come on, you've got to get up!  You can
think about what he said later, which isn't going to happen if you're still on
your ass when the ceiling comes down!  Now let's *GO!*>
     He really couldn't say that it was a desire for life that made him get up
and start moving.  Perhaps it was his subconscious mind working in an autopilot
mode that guided his body through the maze-like corridors and hallways.  Maybe
the thing in his hand had figured out how to take control of his body and was
steering him towards the massive arched doors of the now-shaking castle.  All
he knew was that his thoughts remained on the sword he had just lost, and with
it the only physical reminder he had of....
     Of his first love.
     It had taken him a full century after he had met the second human woman he
found himself falling in love with to realize how much they had both meant to
him.  Doris had touched his humanity, showing him that there was still a part
of him left that could truly connect to humans.  When he had met Leila she had
touched his human soul, making him realize that he was far more human than he
had thought possible, that it *was* possible for a dunpeal like himself to open
his heart and yield to the loving warmth of another.
     The sword has been a gift from Doris after he had lost his in the fight
against Count Magnus Lee.  He had kept the blade by his side through all the
trials he had faced since, giving him a strength that he had only truly became
aware of when Leila touched his heart.  A single white flower petal had been
encapsulated and woven into the clasp around his knife belt, taken from the
bouquet of flowers he had brought to Leila's grave to keep his promise to her.
He had never been a sentimental man, but keeping those two items as memento
mori had brought him a feeling of comfort that he could still not explain to
this day.
     And now the sword was gone.
     <D....> it warned him, causing him to refocus on his surroundings.  He was
on the marble causeway that bridged the front doors of the castle with the edge
of the landscape, crossing over a deep ravine that seemed to stretch on for an
eternity.  Behind him, the castle was already masked behind a cloud of ash and
dust as it slowly crumbled away.  However, the problem at hand wasn't what was
behind him, but what was in front of him.
     A cloaked figure stood near the end of the bridge, shrouded in a glossy
black hooded cape that concealed all facial features.  What it couldn't conceal
was the slender shape of the figure beneath it, clearly denoting the presence
of a woman.  He could feel the weight of her stare as he approached, absently
tucking his mother's pendant into a pouch.
     He came to a halt as her hand slipped inside the cape, able to hear the
rasping of metal as she drew a weapon.  The light of the setting sun glinted
off the silvery rapier as her other hand came up, pushing the hood back to
expose a mass of blue-green hair and a pair of liquid-like eyes.
     "So you're D," she said quietly, her voice laced with steel.
     D said nothing as he regarded her carefully, keenly aware of the fact that
he didn't have his sword with him.  That wasn't to say he was unarmed, having
a pair of daggers on his belt, but he would *really* have felt a little less
edgy with the situation if he could rely on the sword's reach and strength.
     "I need not ask you if my father is dead," she spat bitterly, raising the
rapier slightly.  "I only have one question for you.... are you armed?  Good,"
she said as D withdrew one of the daggers from his belt.  "Then we can finish
things here and now with honor.  We may be the last of our kind, but I will die
with the satisfaction of knowing that my father will be avenged.  EN GARDE!"

                *               *               *               *

     It would have been an amusing battle to watch if the situation wasn't so
serious.  Armed with only a dagger and going against a much more versatile
weapon with a vastly longer reach, D was put on the defensive almost instantly.
It was only because of his abilities as a dunpeal that he was able to dodge her
thrusts so quickly, only able to use his dagger to divert the slender shaft of
her weapon away instead of blocking it.
     In another situation he might have retreated, fallen back and avoided her
until he was confident he was properly equipped to deal with her.  However, he
was not in his usual state of mind.  Still in a quiet rage at the discovery of
the identity of his mother's murderer and fueled by the realization that he was
not only going up against the killer's daughter but the last of his kind, being
so close to finally ending his hunt once and for all, he threw caution to the
winds and pressed his attack as best he could, intent on his final goal.
     They fought for a good five minutes before he finally realized that he was
simply not capable of winning the battle as it stood.  He had just decided on
a change of tactics and was reaching for the other dagger in his belt when the
entire bridge shuddered violently, throwing them both off-balance.  They both
recovered almost instantly, but she was able to seize the opportunity just a
hair faster than he could have.
     The tip of her rapier smoothly slid into his abdomen as she thrust, just
narrowly avoiding his kidney as it emerged out the other side.  Not prepared
for a proper counter-strike, D allowed himself to react by pure instinct alone.
Bracing it against the palm of his left hand, he slammed the flat of his dagger
against the metal shaft of her rapier just above the hilt.  The carbon alloy of
his weapon promptly shattered into fragments, but not before it was able to
severely weaken the physical integrity of the thin foil.  Driven by both pain
and desperation, his hand continued forward as hard as it could to follow right
behind the ruined dagger.
     The sound of the rapier's blade snapping off at the base echoed in their
ears like a thunderclap, shocking them both.  Before either one could react to
the new development, the marble structure of the bridge fell out from beneath
them at an angle to send them both skidding towards the abyss.
     D dug in by instinct, his fingernails ripping away as he tried to secure
a hold on the smooth marble.  His boots provided just enough friction to slow
him down, giving him the opportunity to properly brace himself.  The fire in
his abdomen almost made him lose his tentative grip, the broken shaft of the
weapon still poking out from his skin and dripping blood at both ends.
     He was preparing to make an attempt at scaling the angled surface when it
shifted again, the angle almost doubling and causing him to lose his hold.  A
heavy sucking sound filled the air an instant later, his left hand slamming
into the smooth surface as it tried to hang on using the power of raw suction.
     He knew that the thing was trying to save him, to save them both, but he
knew that it couldn't hold out for more than a few seconds.  He quickly looked
around for options but saw none, finding only the gaping maw of the abyss below
him, waiting for him.
     So it ends, he thought as a sense of peace filled him.  He saw his life
flash before his eyes in a cosmic instant, seeing the warmth of his mother's
smile, hearing her soft melodic voice singing him to sleep, feeling the sheer
rage and fury in his father's screams as he found her broken body dumped on the
steps of his palace, feeling the cold metal of the sword in his hands as he
removed it from the wall, vowing to avenge his mother's murder, crossing the
planet from one end to another once, twice, three times to search for the one
vampire who killed her, killing the others as they mocked his mother's death,
mocking his dunpeal heritage, eventually vowing to end the dark plague of evil
that had enshrouded the warmth of life for so long....
     "D!" a voice screamed out at him, causing him to refocus and look up.  She
was only a few feet away from him, a burning red glow in her eyes as she tried
to reach out to him.  Her cape was all that kept her from falling, the black
satin coiled around a broken strut like a living being, seeming to strain to
support her weight as she tried reaching out to him again....
     "Give me your hand!" she demanded.  "Quickly!"
     All he could do was blink in surprise, staring at her in disbelief.  What
was she trying to do?  Could she be.... trying to *save* him?  After what they
were trying to do ten seconds ago?
     The thing in his hand suddenly started screaming a warning, the audible
part of its voice completely blocked out as it struggled to hold on.  The part
that he heard in his mind was unintelligible, only being registered as the last
gasps of someone at the very end of their limit.
     "*D!*" she yelled across the narrow void, unconsciously baring her fangs.
     He knew the choice was simple.... either yield to her and surrender to her
whims, or face certain death.  Her grip seemed secure, making it unlikely that
she would be sent tumbling into the darkness unless another tremor hit.  It was
possible that she was offering her hand so that she could kill him herself, to
have that one single measure of satisfaction.
     It ends either way, he thought with surprising calmness.  Staying put was
not much of an option, for even if the thing could hold on he would have to
remove the blade from his side or bleed to death.  Letting go was technically
an option, but the result would be undeniable.  Accepting was the true unknown,
but at this point, during this final hour.... what could a few more seconds of
mortal existence do to him?
     He braced as best he could and launched himself into the air just as the
thing lost its suction-grip, slicing the side of his hand open on the edge of
the marble causeway.  For one brief instant he thought he had missed, or that
she had just wanted to make him jump only to snatch her hand away.  The feel
of her grip on his hand registered a moment later, the sudden tension almost
snapping the bones in his right wrist.
     She held onto him as tightly as she could, holding him with both hands.
They both hung there for a moment, rocking back and forth from the force of the
contact.  They braced an instant later as another tremor shook, dislodging the
chunk of marble he had been holding onto and sending it tumbling into the inky
void that seemed to lap at their heels.
     <Hold on,> she said to him, her voice seeming to be distorted into a raw,
almost mechanical timbre.  She began to flex her body, causing them to swing
back and forth with increasing velocity.  She waited until they were moving at
a fairly decent speed before heaving with all of her strength, timing it just
right to take advantage of the swinging motion.
     D made a strangled gasp as she suddenly let go of him, sending him into
the air on a ballistic arc.  He barely had time to realize what was going on
before he slammed into the remaining portion of the causeway, his instincts
telling him to roll back to avoid the edge.  The motion proved to be an unwise
one, driving the broken rapier shaft deeper into his abdomen as his weight was
pressed down.
     <*D!*> it screamed at him, seeming to be genuinely shocked to still be
alive.  <DON'T MOVE!>
     He ignored it as he rose up to his hands and knees, crawling towards the
lip of the broken bridge.  "Just.... hang.... on...." he said, spitting out a
mouthful of his own blood as he grabbed on to the exposed strut with his left
hand in as tight a grip as he could manage.
     <D, what are you doing?> it sputtered, the voice sounding odd as its lips
were mashed flat.
     He leaned over the edge as far as he dared, trying to hold on to the strut
with what little strength he had left while reaching down with his right hand
to grab hold of the edge of the cape.  He got what he thought was a firm grip
on the taut material and started to pull back, slowly drawing her up to where
she could reach the edge.
     The material seemed to tense suddenly, almost ripping free from his grip
before a pair of hands rose up to grab the uneven marble edge.  One of them
slipped for a horrifying instant before getting a better hold, bracing as a leg
was heaved up and over the edge.
     D let go of the cape and slumped back on his side, listening as she flung
herself onto firm ground.  They both edged a few inches away from the abyss and
spent the next few seconds trying to relax, both panting hard from the amount
of exertion required.
     Galen lifted her head up as D moaned, watching as he reached down to try
to rip the broken foil out of his abdomen.  It seemed to resist his efforts
before it finally slipped free, prompting a deep gasp of pain that made her
cringe with reflexive sympathy.  Her blue-green eyes followed the path of the
blade as it was sent spinning into the empty air, succumbing to the pull of
gravity a moment later and silently disappearing into the chasm.
     She blinked as she heard him whisper her name, looking back at him just in
time to watch him spit out another mouthful of blood.  The dark red splotch on
the ground made her shiver lightly despite her being very much accustomed to
the sight, smell, and taste of the crimson nectar.
     "Galen," he said quietly, lifting his head up to look at her.  A faint
blue glow was visible in his eyes as he studied her in silence before finally
speaking to her again.  "Why.... did you save me?" he breathed, the soft words
obviously causing him a fair amount of pain.
     The corners of her mouth arched down in a frown as she stared back at him.
"I'm asking myself that same question right now," she said in a flat tone.  "By
all rights I should have cast you into the abyss myself for what you've done."
     He continued to look at her for a moment before turning his head to one
side, spitting another small blob of blood into the void.  "And what exactly
have I done?" he inquired calmly, his right hand gingerly probing his side.
     It took her a moment to close her mouth, having fallen open at the sheer
audacity of his question.  "You dare ask such a question?" she spat.  "You just
killed my father and brought an entire culture to extinction!"
     He leaned back against the marble railing with a very soft grunt, his eyes
never once leaving hers.  "Your father," he said very slowly, "Brutally raped
and murdered my mother."
     "You lie!" she snarled as she shot to her feet, the crimson glow starting
to return to her eyes.  "I know him, he would never do such a thing!"
     "You know what he is now," D replied quietly.  "I've heard how he seemed
to change after your birth, but that doesn't change his true self."
     Her eyes narrowed to mere slits as she started at him.  "You dare accuse
my father of a dishonorable crime?" she hissed.  She tensed as his hand went to
his belt, bringing something up to glint in the fading sunlight.  She jumped
back as it came sailing through the air towards her, only reaching up to catch
it at the last possible instant.
     She felt her blood suddenly grow cold as she saw the golden locket in her
hand, recognizing it as one of the few pieces of jewelry her father had ever
worn with any consistency.  "What is this?" she demanded in a low tone, giving
him a poisonous look.  "First you murder him, then you rob his corpse too?"
     "Open it," D said very softly.
     She blinked again as the momentary flush of anger left her, leaving her
feeling deathly cold inside.  "Open it?" she repeated, not ever having been
aware that it could be opened.  She had examined it on occasion, but never saw
any hinges or a locking mechanism that would indicate it was hollow.
     "Press down on the anchor," he instructed in an empty tone.
     She looked down at the small locket and did as he said, very carefully
pressing down on the short stem where the locket was attached to the necklace.
Her hand flew to her mouth as it quietly flipped open, revealing a pair of very
tiny portraits.
     The one on the left was a family portrait, a man and a woman holding their
infant son.  The woman had a soft smile on her lips while the man had a dark,
almost brooding look on his face.  The portrait on the right was one of a very
young boy, apparently an older version of the infant.  The eyes and the hair
were the same, and as she studied the man in the first portrait she suddenly
realized what she was looking at.
     "Oh my god...." she breathed softly, almost dropping the locket in shock.
"This is a portrait of the Vampire King," she said as she looked up at him, her
liquid eyes seeming to be close to becoming flooded with tears.  "And there was
only one woman he had taken as his wife.  D.... how could this have ended up in
my father's possession?"
     D said nothing, simply looking at her as he waited for his wounds to seal
themselves.  The amount of blood he had lost was trivial, as his regenerative
abilities would easily make up the volume before the sun finished setting.
     "No...." she whispered, slowly shaking her head in denial.  "D, please say
that you're lying.  I know my father, I know what a noble and honorable man he
is, how he himself taught me the values of honor and integrity.  D, please...."
     "I have no doubt you are an honorable woman," he said as he gingerly rose
to his feet, wincing slightly at the soreness in his joints.  "Indeed, after
going to all the trouble of saving one who would kill you, I would have to say
your sense of honor is beyond reproach.  But that doesn't change the fact that
your father confessed his crimes and gave me my mother's locket as proof of his
guilt.  Whatever you know of him now wasn't what he was back then."
     She cast a final glance at the locket in her hand before gently closing
the cover with a soft click.  She looked back up as his shadow fell over her
hand, finding him standing about a foot away from her.  She wordlessly held the
locket out to him, her eyes following the movement of his hand as he took it
from her and tucked it away in a small pouch on his belt.
     "So now what, D?" she asked softly, looking up to gaze into his eyes.  She
was answered with a stony silence that made her feel incredibly tired for some
reason.  "Are you going to kill me, then?" she wondered aloud, suddenly finding
herself wondering what she would find once death claimed her.  "You do still
have a weapon on you, don't you?"
     He looked into her eyes in silence for a minor eternity before nodding,
withdrawing the remaining dagger from his belt with a near-silent whisper.
     She glanced down at the weapon in his hand and sighed quietly, returning
her focus to the seemingly weary lines of his face.  "A question if I may," she
asked softly.  "Tell me.... did you make my father suffer before killing him?"
     "No," he replied quietly, slowly shaking his head.  "Even with as much
pain and suffering as vampires have brought to the world, I have always tried
to make it as quick and painless as possible.  To do otherwise would be to sink
to their level."
     "So I see," she said as she very gently nodded in understanding.  "So you
would do the same for me, then?  A quick and simple thrust to the heart to put
me out of the misery of the world and humankind?  I see you would," she said as
she studied his eyes.  "And yet.... you would not enjoy it, would you?"
     "There is no pleasure to be had in such a deed," he said.  "I only kill
when I have to."
     She paused to turn her head, glancing at the burning disc of the sun as it
started to touch the horizon.  "And you have to kill me, correct?" she asked.
"Because I am the last dunpeal left in the world?"
     "Our blood is cursed," he said softly, his tone causing her to look back
at him.  "This world needs to be free of it once and for all.  That means I
will have to die as well, but it is a sacrifice I've been ready to make since
the beginning."
     "That is.... a sad existence, D," Galen said with a slow shake of her
head.  "In another time I might have tried to open you the possibilities of
what you are.... no, of what *we* are.  I am a dunpeal like yourself, D.  Well,
almost," she added with a faint hint of a smile.  "We both have vampiric blood
in our veins, but I am not as human as you are."
     She waited to see if he would respond, to take the bait and ask her what
she meant.  A very soft sigh rose up from her chest as she was met with only
empty silence.  "No matter, then," she said quietly.  "We are the last in the
world, and I am growing both tired and cold.  We can do this one of two ways,
hunter.  You can end this here and now and be rid of me, or you can let me have
one final moment of peace before I yield my life to you.  I am a noble and I
will not beg for my life, but will instead meet my fate with dignity."
     He looked at her in silence before finally speaking.  "I'm listening," he
said in an impassive tone, still holding the dagger in a firm grip.
     "My mother's resting place is in a grove of trees to the east," Galen said
in a calm, measured tone.  "It is a five-day excursion by carriage, even longer
by foot.  I ask that you come with me, to give me the honor of seeing her one
last time in life before I go to join her in death."
     His head seemed to tilt at a very slight angle as he regarded her very
carefully.  "A lot can happen in five days," he pointed out in a neutral tone.
     "I am a noble, D," she said calmly, staring hard into his eyes.  "If you
believe it to be so, I will make you a pledge.  Hold out your dagger."
     He remained perfectly motionless for a number of moments before finally
raising his hand, keeping a firm grip on the dagger as he held the point up to
the presently orange-hued sky.
     "I will make you a promise in blood," she said, reaching out to slowly run
the palm of her hand over the razor-sharp carbon tip.  Tiny drops of her blood
began to splatter his hand as she spoke.  "If you come with me, I will not try
to run or hide from you, nor will I attempt to attack you.  I will not spend my
last days hiding like a dog, to cower in fear over every shadow that falls over
my path.  Once we reach my mother's grave, you will let me speak to her for a
moment in private and not attempt to disturb us.  I will come to you when I am
finished, and then you can do what you will with me."
     D glanced down at his hand as she fell silent and stepped back.  A small
pool of crimson covered his fist, seeping in between his fingers to drip down
the hilt and splatter the marble floor.  He had long ago learned about what it
meant to be an honorable person, and what was required to remain so.  If there
was one lesson to be taken to heart, it was that one who lived by the code of
honor always gave others the chance to prove themselves to be of the same code.
     Or in this case, of the same blood.
     D said nothing as he lowered his hand and returned the dagger to the empty
sheath on his belt.  He should have cleaned it, as the blade would only get
disgustingly sticky once the liquid dried, but a deeper part of him knew that
trying to wipe away a pledge written in blood would be unacceptable.
     "I accept," he said simply.
     They looked at one another in heavy silence before Galen finally nodded.
"Very well then.  It is almost nightfall, and while that doesn't bother either
of us, I am in need of a rest before we set out.  There is a Hive not too far
from here, perhaps an hour's ride at most.  I can secure us lodging there for
the night, and perhaps even acquire new weapons.  The road we will travel is a
fairly dangerous one," she added at the sudden change in his expression.  "It
would not be wise to go about unarmed, as bandits care little about whom they
try to waylay.  Or do you doubt my pledge that I will not attack you?"
     He said nothing as he turned from her, making his way towards the main
road where he had left his mount.  He would have rode it across the bridge and
up to the castle gates had he not been warned ahead of time about the numerous
pitfalls and traps that had lined the causeway.
     "D?" she called out in slight confusion as he walked away from her.
     "This way," he said simply without turning around.
     She paused to stare at his back for a moment before shaking her head to
herself, wondering just what she was doing this for.  She knew she was the last
of her kind, indeed, the only one of her kind given her unique heritage, and
that he would eventually kill her.  So what would it matter if she died now
instead of a few days later?  But at the same time....
     A lot can happen in five days, he had said.
     Sighing quietly to herself, she set off after the mysterious hunter who
would be either her destruction.... or her salvation.

                *               *               *               *

     They rode in silence, D holding the reins of his mount with Galen perched
on the saddle in front of him.  She was almost as tall as he was, making it a
touch difficult to see the road around her.  Not that he expected to find much
of anything at the moment, not on a road near a vampire's castle just after the
sun had set.  Even the woodland animals knew better than that.
     "D," Galen spoke up very quietly.  She turned her head to one side to look
at him out of the corner of her eye when he didn't respond.  "I think I know
what happened back there, why I didn't kill you when I had the chance."
     She waited for some sign of acknowledgement, sighing very quietly when it
was apparent that none was forthcoming.  "You really don't care, then, do you?"
she said softly as she returned her focus back to the road ahead.
     "I'm listening," D said in a neutral tone.
     She carefully twisted around in the saddle to look at him, her liquid-like
eyes narrowing slightly.  "I'll be honest, I haven't met many other dunpeals
before," she said in a level tone.  "The few that I ran across were open and
talkative about themselves, however, despite the situation they were in.  Why
do you remain so.... closed to others?"
     She took the time to study his face as she waited for a response, knowing
that one would probably not be forthcoming.  "I'll admit I was.... upset about
my father's death when I attacked you," she continued in a level tone.  "He was
all that I had after my mother passed away from an illness her body couldn't
cope with.  When the first tremor hit the bridge and I had the advantage, I was
aiming for your heart when I suddenly realized that if I killed you.... I would
truly be alone in the world."
     Her breath suddenly caught in her throat as he blinked, the full force of
his gaze seeming to bore straight into her very soul as he looked at her.  "I
don't know what made me aim for your stomach instead of dropping the weapon,"
she said very quietly.  "I guess I.... I wanted you to suffer a little, to make
you bleed for what you did to my father."  She seemed to hesitate before adding
in a respectful voice, "I didn't think my rapier could be destroyed like that.
You must be even stronger than the legends say."
     "So why did you save me?" he asked quietly.
     She sighed and looked away, studying the gloom of the terrain.  "When the
bridge collapsed and you started to fall.... all I could think of was how alone
I would be if I were truly the last dunpeal.  I can handle being unique.... but
I don't think I could handle being the last.  Part of the reason I do not fear
my death at your hand," she added, looking back at him.  "You would then be the
last, not me.  Selfishness on my part, perhaps, but I don't want that burden on
my conscience or my soul."
     He remained silent as he looked at her, studying the soft contours of her
face as she had studied him.  She appeared to be young, even for one who would
not age with the centuries.  Her hair was a curious mixture of blue and green,
seeming to vary within each individual strand to give her beauty a distinctly
exotic look.  Her irises didn't appear to have the subtle flaws that most other
eyes had, seeming to be a ring of bluish-green liquid instead of muscle.  Her
lips were a pale blue color, whether naturally or from lipstick he wasn't able
to tell.  They appeared to be soft and inviting, however, and in another world
he might have even been tempted to find out for himself....
     "D?" she said very softly, drawing his attention back up to the look in
her eyes.  "I know I saved your life for my own reasons, and honor forbids me
from making demands on you because of it.... but I would still like to ask you
to open up to me.  We are the last of our kind, you and I, and I would like to
know more about you before I surrender my life.  I swear on my honor that all
that is said, whatever secrets you share with me, will remain between the both
of us.  Maybe being a woman makes me sentimental, but.... is it truly too much
to ask that we get to know one another in our final hours of existence?"
     She looked up at him intently, trying to find even the slightest hint that
her words were reaching him, that she was breaking through the wall of silent
isolation.  She was genuinely curious about him, a man she had heard whispered
in taverns and enclaves as a living legend.  Every single one had spoken of his
preference for silence, but she had also heard a few whispers about times in
which a woman had gotten him to take off the armor, not just the heavy shroud
of silence but the physical armor that protected his body as well....
     <D, we have company,> a soft voice whispered around them, causing Galen to
to blink hard and almost fall out of the saddle.
     "Who said that?" she demanded as she righted herself and peered around the
landscape.  Her right hand automatically dropped to her belt, a chill creeping
through her body a moment later as she remembered that her 'sidekick' had been
destroyed in the fight on the bridge.
     D ignored her as he gently tugged on the reins, causing the mount to stop.
He looked around the landscape with a critical eye, trying to either see or
hear whatever was upsetting the thing this time.  He couldn't see anything in
the gloom that might have posed a threat, but the super-quiet whispering sounds
that reached his ears....
     "Up ahead," D said quietly, trying to decide if there were two or three
creatures lying in wait.
     "Give me the reins," Galen said quietly, reaching up to grab the leather
straps just above his hands.  "We're almost at the Hive.  It will look better
if I'm holding the reins as they should know me."
     He looked down at her, studying the points on her ears before her head
twisted around to look back at him.  Their eyes met in heavy silence for a few
seconds before he relaxed his grip, allowing her to take control of the reins.
     She nodded her head slightly at him and flicked the reins, gently urging
the mount back into casual motion.  They continued to ride on in silence for a
few hundred yards before a guttural growl cut across the still air, causing her
to tug sharply on the reins.
     D remained perfectly still as Galen lifted her head up and called back to
the darkness.  Her voice seemed to be inhuman, clicking and rasping with a very
strong metallic undertone as she spoke in a language he had never heard before.
He thought he could see one of the sentries, barely able to discern the outline
of the bestial creature against the inky backdrop of the shadows.  Even knowing
where it was, he still couldn't make out any features as it snarled back a soft
reply before completely vanishing into the darkness.
     A soft laugh rose up from Galen's throat as she nudged the mount forward,
slowly proceeding down the trail.  "Welcome to the Cha'laka Hive," she said in
a quiet tone as the air suddenly rippled in front of them.
     D blinked hard as the shimmering veil parted, revealing what appeared to
be a mound-like structure built into the side of a small hill.  In all of the
centuries of his travels around the planet, he couldn't remember seeing any
sort of structure like it.  As they drew closer, he realized that it was a city
of sorts, a collection of small huts and buildings all linked by a series of
small bridges and causeways.
     <D?> the thing in his hand suddenly spoke up.  <I've suddenly got a bad
feeling about this place.>
     The horse came to a gentle halt as Galen tugged on the reins, making sure
it had stopped moving before twisting around in the saddle to give him a very
piercing look.  "Alright, what keeps talking like that?" she demanded in a low
tone.  Her eyebrows arched clear up to her hairline as D simply raised his left
hand, letting her see the wrinkled face embedded in his palm.
     <That would be me,> it said, turning slightly to give D an uneasy look.
     "Oh, I see now," she said, nodding her head as a great number of puzzle
pieces suddenly fell into place.  "If he has your power to draw on, that would
explain an awful lot about what the legends have said.  Interesting that nobody
ever thought of this as a possible explanation before," she mused.
     "You know what this is?" D inquired with a small measure of disbelief.
     She paused before looking up at him.  "It's rare to encounter symbiots on
sentient beings, seeing how they usually are disposed of as soon as they're
discovered," she said carefully.  "But yes, I've met a couple of them before."
     "Do you know how to get rid of them?" D immediately asked, prompting a
very soft grunt of protest from the thing.  He made a fist to keep it quiet,
keeping his focus on Galen and trying not to react to the possibility of being
able to be free of it once and for all.  Not that he truly wished to have it
excised from his hand, as it had been a literal life-saver on more occasions
than he could count, but he would still feel better if he had that knowledge
available in case of a true emergency.
     "You're kidding, right?" she said, giving him an incredulous look.  Her
eyes widened with disbelief when she realized that he was being serious.  "You
mean you've had that with you for all this time and you never figured out how
you could get rid of it?"
     <Uh, excuse me....> it tried to protest before being silenced as D's fist
tightened even further.
     "It's never been an urgent priority," he said in an absolutely flat tone,
giving her a look that some might have interpreted as dangerous or threatening.
     She looked back at him for a moment before slowly shaking her head, still
not fully believing this one.  "It's simple, D," she said in as neutral a tone
as she could manage.  "Just drown it.  Immersion in a bucket won't work, as it
will just swallow up the water.  Probably the bucket, too, if it panics," she
added as an after-thought.  "Anyway, just go for a swim in a lake or other body
of water too big for it to absorb.  Twenty minutes should be enough.  It might
take a day or two for it to decay to the point where you can remove it without
harm.  It'll leave a mark on your skin, of course, but they're almost entirely
astral in nature so you won't have to worry about losing anything inside you."
     D just stared at her in disbelief, not believing that he had overlooked
something as patently obvious as that.  How many times had it complained about
being choked or unable to breathe?  And he never made the connection?  It was
enough to make him consider beating his head against a tree as punishment for
being so utterly *stupid* for all these centuries....
     Galen just laughed very softly to herself as she turned around and flicked
the reins once again.  "You're welcome, D," she said as she guided the mount
over to a small barn at the very edge of the Hive.
     D looked around as they dismounted, letting a young man take care of the
horse.  The stable boy appeared to be human, and if D had to guess he would say
that he was either a bandit or a gypsy.  Both tended to show up in the oddest
of places and in the strangest of company.  D tossed him a coin as payment,
receiving a grateful nod of thanks in return.
     "This way," Galen said, making a gesture to a narrow spiral staircase.  D
stood back, letting her go first up the wooden structure before attempting to
follow her.  An icy chill was crawling down his spine as he continued to look
around the city, knowing that something was out of place.  It finally sank in
a moment later as they reached one of the causeways, edging aside to let a pair
of disfigured creatures head towards the stable staircase.
     The entire population of the city were mutants.
     Some of them seemed human from a distance, and a few of them could even be
mistaken for a full human up close.  Most had mutations that were obvious, one
possessing an excess of body hair that resembled fur, several others having
wings of assorted shapes and sizes.  A number boasted teeth that were too large
for their mouths, prominent fangs jutting out at odd angles.
     He looked up as he felt a touch on his wrist, finding Galen giving him a
slightly impatient look.  "You can go play tourist later," she chided him as
she gestured to a large nearby tavern.  "Right now, we should see if we can get
a room for the night.  This way," she said as she let go of him, making her way
across the causeway.
     He followed her in silence, still thinking about the nature of the city.
Mutants had been around since the early days, back when the vampires summoned
the red moon from another world to bring chaos to this one.  A sort of truce
existed between the two, the vampires largely leaving the mutants alone in
exchange for their protection and servitude.  The mutants had in turn taken
great pains to keep a low profile with respects to everything and everyone
else, living in the shadows to try to avoid drawing the destructive attentions
of humans or other predators that fed on human-like creatures.
     It amazed him to finally discover how they did it, building small cities
that were scattered across the land to be hidden behind large veils of secrecy.
He couldn't have said for sure if it was the powers of darkness or the legacy
technology of the ancient human civilizations that allowed an entire city to
bend light around it, hiding it from all but the most keen of observers.  And
even then, those smart enough to find it would likely be just as smart enough
to know that disturbing the city's residents would be most unwise....
     Had he not known he was in a city of mutants, he would have thought he was
stepping into any one of the countless taverns in a random human city.  A hazy
cloud of cigarette and herbal smoke hung from the ceiling, tainting the air
with the scent of at least six different kinds of dried plant material.  A bar
took up the back wall of the tavern while dozens of patrons were spread out
among the array of randomly scattered and dimly-lit tables.  The level of noise
was low, little more than a collection of muted conversations, soft clinks of
bottles against glass, and the sounds of various mugs being drained of their
respective contents.  A simple railed staircase was off to one side, leading
up to a second-story of bedrooms.
     The low buzz of conversation dropped even lower as he followed Galen over
to the bar, remaining a few paces away as she motioned to the bartender.  He
put the mug he was polishing down and leaned over to her, making a series of
noises that D thought a beached whale might have made as it struggled to retain
a hold on life.
     He edged closer as Galen started to reply, her voice taking on the same
clicking, rasping metallic aspect he had heard earlier.  She went on for a few
seconds before falling silent, obviously waiting for the bartender to reply.
D remained motionless as the bartender gave him a blatantly suspicious look,
snarling something to Galen before starting to turn away.
     D's hand dropped down to his dagger as Galen reached out to grab the front
of the bartender's shirt.  The skin of her hand suddenly turned a dark brown
color as her fingers began to curl inward, taking on a very rough and bark-like
appearance.  A deep red glow appeared in her eyes as they started to change
shape, acquiring a series of tiny divisions that resembled the facets in the
compound eyes of most insects.  A very rapid clicking noise emanated from her
throat, dropping away to a mere whisper of a rattle after a few moments.
     The bartender blinked hard and glanced over at D, seeming to be more than
a little uneasy at the situation.  He looked back at Galen and made a series of
deep moans, almost hauntingly beautiful in their timbre.
     <He doesn't think you are what I say you are,> Galen said to D, her voice
distorted almost to the point of incomprehension.  <Show him your heritage.>
     It took him a moment to realize what she was asking.  He nodded and moved
over to the bar, reaching inward to unlock the darkest part of his soul.  His
vision took on a blue cast a moment later as his eyes began to luminesce, the
edges of his mouth parting as his incisors elongated into fangs.
     The bartender looked at him in silence before grunting quietly to himself,
reaching up to yank his collar free from Galen's grip.  He glanced back at her
and made a low noise, his tone seeming to indicate he wasn't too impressed.
     D glanced down at his hand as it suddenly began wriggling fiercely.  He
turned his palm up to look at the thing, pausing as it looked up at him with an
odd smile before it winked at him.  He hesitated for a moment before he nodded
and brought his hand up, turning it around to face the bartender.
     The bartender paused and cast a very suspicious glance at him, blinking
fairly hard as he suddenly saw the wrinkles open up to form a sort of face.  He
squinted as he peered closer, making a very low growling noise to it.  He was
rewarded with a rather sharp belch from the odd face, causing him to jerk back
in surprise.  He seemed to alternate his gaze between D, Galen, and the thing
before beginning to laugh to himself.
     D glanced up to find Galen giving him a truly odd look, the lines of her
face distorted into something that looked vaguely insectoid.  It was probably
her eyes that made the most impression on him, now clearly a multi-faceted red
hue as a single blue-green eyebrow was raised in curiosity.
     She smirked as D remained motionless, turning her attention back to the
still-chuckling bartender.  He said something else to her, causing her to blink
in surprise before nodding.  She reached into her belt to produce a number of
coins, laying them out in a neat pile before him.  His hand seemed to casually
pass over them, the coins vanishing to be replaced with a simple room key.
     She waited until her hands and face had returned to normal before replying
with a simple thanks, scooping up the key and turning to face D.  "Let's go,"
she said simply as she headed for the staircase, casting a quick glance over
her shoulder to make sure he was following her.
     The stairs had obviously seen better days, creaking unsteadily as they
were used.  They were a lot firmer than they sounded, however, as there was
very little give as the pair of dunpeals reached the second floor.  Galen cast
a quick glance at the number etched into the key before counting doors, finally
reaching the one she sought.  The lock seemed to briefly resist the key before
yielding, the door opening with a muted creak that would have made them wince
in pain had it been any louder.
     D said nothing as he followed her, stopping just inside the doorway to
look around the room.  It obviously wasn't a high-quality establishment, but
nothing was damaged or broken.  The wooden ceiling was a little low for his
tastes, almost low enough for the lone light fixture to be an impact hazard if
he wasn't paying attention.  The towels and linens appeared to have been washed
recently, suggesting that at least some attempt was made at keeping the room in
an acceptably clean condition.  There was, however, one detail that promptly
leapt out at him as being a potentially significant problem....
     "Something wrong?" Galen inquired as she closed the door, finding herself
on the receiving end of a distinctly unamused look.  She followed his gaze as
he turned back around, suddenly realizing what was bothering him.  "Oh, that,"
she said with a faint smile as she studied the single mattress.  "I thought it
would have raised too many suspicions if I asked for a double."
     "What did you tell him?" D asked quietly, trying to decide which corner of
the room looked to be the most comfortable.
     "Just that you and I were passing through together," she said casually, a
hint of a smile crossing her face.  "Don't worry, hunter, you will not have to
share a bed with me."
     D said nothing as he watched her cross the room, sitting down on the edge
of the bed.  She looked up at him for a moment before smiling gently, reaching
down to remove her calf-length boots.  They both fell free after a few moments
of tugging, allowing her to stretch her legs out and wiggle her bare toes.  She
paused and looked back up at him, studying his expression before leaning back
on her elbows in what might have been termed a casually seductive pose.
     "Something on your mind, D?" she asked in a light, almost coy tone.
     "You have mutant blood in your veins, don't you?" he finally said.
     She frowned as she sat up straight, giving him a moderate look.  "If my
grandmother was still around to hear you say it like that, she would have put
you through the floor," she said in a faintly edged tone.  "As I said earlier,
I am every bit a vampire as you are, D, but only half as human.  My grandfather
was a human, of course, but my grandmother was one of the Barbarois."
     D blinked at the confession, slowly nodding in understanding at everything
suddenly made sense to him.  Her beauty was exotic, but he had thought it was
a little *too* exotic to be from purely human or vampiric origins.  Her ability
to assume an insectoid form, or at least part of it, had confused him until he
realized that it wasn't part of her heritage as a dunpeal, but instead part of
her Barbaroi heritage.  They were technically mutants as well, but had chosen
to live in a self-imposed isolation from the rest of their kind.  An isolation
that they all too vigorously defended against intruders....
     I can handle being unique, she had said, but I don't think I could handle
being the last.
     "I didn't think it was possible for any of the Barbarois to have children
with humans," he said quietly, remaining in place while she resumed stretching
her shapely legs out.  Her skin was every bit as pale as his, no doubt due to
her instinctive desire to avoid excessive sun exposure, but appeared to be both
silky smooth and utterly flawless.  It was the kind of perfection that made
men's heads turn, and as he discovered in the not-too-distant past, he wasn't
truly above giving such beauty a second look either.
     "That's what everyone said," Galen replied with a slow nod.  "Including my
grandmother," she added with a sly smile.  "She and the others celebrated my
mother's birth whole-heartedly, viewing it as nothing short of a miracle.  I'm
not entirely sure how or when my father encountered my mother, as neither one
of them seemed to want to talk about it, but I'm sure you're intelligent enough
to figure out how things eventually played out."
     He said nothing as she stood up and slowly walked over to him, her bare
feet making only the lightest of sounds on the floor.  "I don't suppose you'll
tell me about your parents?" she mused, stopping only a few feet away from him.
"I'm sure the son of the Vampire King and his human bride would have a most
interesting tale to tell about his birth...."
     She looked up at him, her mood slowly evaporating as she only encountered
a stony silence.  "Very well, D," she sighed softly as she turned her back.
"I will not force you to open up to me.... even though I wish you would," she
added in a very soft tone, casting a glance over her shoulder.  "Should you
wish to wander about the city, you are free to do so.  Few of them would ever
consider bothering a dunpeal, but I would not suggest you advertise your nature
as a hunter.  The bartender was amused by your symbiot, and so you may find
that others would likewise be more inclined to help you.  Providing you don't
give them the silent treatment as well," she added gently.
     She reached up to the ceiling, her hands slowly turning into bark-like
claws.  She grasped the edges of the wooden support beam and swung her body
forward, her feet likewise becoming gnarled as she used them to get a second
grip on the ceiling.  The black satin cape around her shoulders hung limply
towards the ground, barely brushing against the mane of blue-green hair that
likewise hung free from her head.
     She hugged the ceiling tighter, adjusting her grip several times until she
was almost pressed flat against the wooden beam.  She relaxed her arms enough
to tilt her head back, looking into his eyes with a soft smile on her face.
"You may wake me whenever you wish once the sun rises," she said softly, only
a faint hint of red visible in her eyes.  "I only ask that you do so gently.
Granted I am not the lightest of sleepers, but a simple touch should be enough
to rouse me.  Sleep well, D," she said, her voice dropping to a soft whisper.
     D watched with mild interest as she hugged the ceiling again.  The black
cape started to shimmer like a living being before turning a mottled brown hue,
seeming to mimic the pattern of bark on some trees.  The fabric suddenly began
to move upward, spreading out and molding against her body to envelop it as
completely as it could.  A series of snapping and cracking sounds filled the
air a moment later as it appeared to harden, taking on the consistency of a
wooden cocoon that would have perfectly blended in with a tree.
     <Okay, now there's something you don't see every day,> it said quietly as
D studied the cocoon-like object attached to the ceiling.  The only thing that
stood out were several inches of her blue-green hair, hanging down from the top
end of the cocoon like some sort of lure.  <I'll bet she doesn't have a problem
finding shelter on a camping trip.  Barbaroi blood, eh?>
     "Leave her alone," D said quietly without thinking.  He paused a moment
later to wonder *why* he had just said that, trying to determine if it had been
an instinct of some sort.
     The thing remained quiet for a few moments before speaking up again.  <D,
just what the hell is going on?> it asked in an unusually cautious tone.  <One
minute she's trying to run you through and you're aiming to carve her heart out
with a dagger.... and I must say, going up against a rapier like that was *not*
very bright.... then all of a sudden you two start planning for a five-day trip
across the country like you're a pair of friends?  Did I miss something here?
I mean, I can see the death of her father loosening one of her screws, but what
the hell are you doing?  You leave a wad of brain-matter on the floor when you
killed Count Niles or what?>
     "Enough," he said quietly, spotting the room key on the bed.  He made his
way over to retrieve it, picking it up before heading back towards the door.
     <Hey, wait,> it protested as D reached for the door.  <What are you doing?
We're alone in a city of mutants, where are you going?>
     "Shopping," he said calmly as he opened the door.

                *               *               *               *

     The sounds of the tavern quieted down as he descended the stairs, finding
himself on the receiving end of a number of very discreet and casual glances.
He ignored them as he made his way towards the door, intent on finding someone
who could help him acquire a new sword.  He made it halfway across the room
before coming to a halt as something abruptly coiled around his ankle.
     "Well, well," a husky voice said as D looked down to find the tail of a
very large snake gently wrapped around his leg.  He followed the muscular coil
along the floor and found himself looking at what was commonly referred to as
a lamia.  The lower half of her body was that of a massive snake, while the
rest of her was that of a humanoid woman.  Her hair and eyes were a deep shade
of forest green, her modesty somewhat preserved a small and rather flimsy dark
blue strip of fabric criss-crossing her ample chest.
     "That was a rather quick trip upstairs, now wasn't it?" the lamia purred
as she leaned back in her chair, openly studying him.  "Don't tell me that the
stories of a dunpeal's stamina were wrong...."
     D paused and cast a sidelong glance at the other person at the table.  He
knew a fellow hunter when he met one, most of her face kept in shadow by the
wide brim of her hat.  A black leather bracer was tied to her left wrist, a
number of scars visible on the skin that was left exposed.  She seemed to be
fully human at first glance, but he wasn't about to rule out possessing any of
mutant abilities of her own.  She didn't appear to be interested in what was
going on, quietly sipping on a rather large mug of pale orange beer.
     "She had a long day and needed to rest," D said quietly to the lamia as he
looked back at her.  "Nothing more."
     The snake-woman nodded soberly, very gently squeezing his leg with her
tail.  "I can imagine, having just lost her father a few hours ago.  News does
travel fast in these parts," she added coyly.  The look on her face seemed to
harden slightly as she leaned forward.  "You wouldn't happen to know anything
about that, would you, dunpeal?"
     D could feel the thing in his hand suddenly take a very discreet breath,
seeming to tense up slightly.  "She wanted to go visit her mother," he said
calmly, his expression never changing.  "I'm escorting her there."
     The lamia seemed to accept his explanation as she leaned back, her tail
still gently rubbing and squeezing his leg.  "Yes, I imagine she would want to
spend some time with her after what just happened.  Not to be nosing in your
business, my friend, but I couldn't help but notice earlier that you have a
symbiot with you.  May I take a look at it?"
     He said nothing as he looked at her, briefly casting another glance at her
hunter companion.  He wasn't sure what kind of hunter she was, but the marks on
her arm said that whatever it was apparently didn't go down easily or without
a serious fight.  He looked back at the lamia to find a somewhat sultry look on
her face as she leaned forward once again, her tail not so much squeezing his
leg as gently massaging it.
     "I happen to have one of my own, you see," she explained coyly.  "It's not
the best friend to have, but I haven't really decided if I want to try to get
rid of it or not.  That's why I want to study yours for a moment, just to do a
bit of a comparison.  What do you say, dunpeal?  I'll show you mine if you show
me yours," she offered, her voice turning husky.
     D paused for a moment as the other hunter seemed to come dangerously close
to venting her beer out her nose.  She recovered so quickly that he might not
have suspected she had reacted to anything if his hearing wasn't so sensitive.
     The thing in his hand twitched gently, causing him to look down at it.
Silently sighing to himself, he raised his arm to give the lamia a look at his
palm.  He remained perfectly still as she reached out, taking his hand in a
very light and gentle grip to make sure she wouldn't accidentally scratch him
with her razor-like fingernails.
     "So what have we here?" she mused quietly, studying the wrinkles.
     <Hi,> it replied in a neutral tone, calmly looking back at her.
     "Oh, my," she said, her eyebrows arching up in surprise.  "You seem to be
fairly articulate.  I might even think you were intelligent."
     <Why wouldn't I be?> it inquired in a wary tone.  <I don't want to sound
arrogant by claiming to be a genius or anything, but we're not exactly dumb as
fence-posts, you know.>
     She paused and glanced up at D before sighing wistfully.  "I guess I must
have picked up a reject, then," she said as she leaned back, her other hand
coming up to casually bare her melon-sized breast.
     D's eyebrows arched up a fraction of a millimeter as he studied the soft
curves of her breast, able to see the wrinkles for what they were.  The eyes
were positioned on either side of her hardening nipple, set just low enough to
put the areola in the middle of what passed for its forehead.  The mouth was
still concealed from his angle, however, and it was only with extreme caution
that he allowed her to pull his hand closer to her feminine flesh.
     <Hey there,> D's symbiot said carefully.
     The entire base of her breast suddenly opened up, revealing a gaping maw
lined with dozens of very sharp-looking teeth.  A muted roar billowed out from
the opened mouth, bathing D's palm in a blast of hot air.  The sound continued
for a few moments before falling silent, the two 'lips' closing together to
return her breast to its normal plump shape.
     <Okay, we're done here,> the thing in his hand said in as calm a tone as
it could manage.  The attempt at casualness didn't fool anyone, however, as the
lamia started to laugh as she tugged the fabric back over her breast.
     "I see what you mean," D said in a moderate tone, not overly impressed by
either the display of flesh or the other symbiot.
     "It's not that bad," the lamia purred gently.  "He likes it when someone
pets him real slow and gentle-like.  Other than that, however...."  She paused
to think about it before shrugging in dismissal, absently squeezing his leg
once again before uncoiling her tail.  "So I take it you're looking to find a
sword, dunpeal?" she inquired idly as D started to turn away.
     He paused and looked back at her, casting yet another brief glance at the
female hunter still silently sipping her beer.  The soft chuckle of the lamia
drew his attention back to her, finding a look of remote amusement crossing her
face.  "That one is just a little obvious, you know," she explained, making a
gesture to his back.  "After all, who walks around with an empty sword scabbard
for the fun of it?  Or, it seems, a less than full belt," she added with a very
low purr as she looked at his waist.  "Mmm, but you do seem to be packing your
fair share of equipment, however...."
     He decided to skip that last comment entirely.  "Do you know where I can
find a weaponsmith?" he asked calmly, pointedly ignoring the faint shudders
still emanating from his left hand.
     The lamia chuckled and gestured to the tavern exit behind her.  "Over the
bridge on the right, third shop on the left-hand side.  He's a gruff one, but
he'll deal with you if you have the right reference.  Tell him Lani sent you,"
she added with a delicate purr.
     "Thank you," D said quietly as he turned to leave again.
     "You do have a name, don't you?" Lani asked lightly, leaning back in her
chair as she tickled his lower thigh with the tip of her tail.  "I would hate
to think I wouldn't have anything to remember someone like you by...."
     He paused to glance over at the other hunter, something in the back of his
mind warning him that he should keep an eye on her for some unknown reason.  He
glanced back at the patiently-waiting lamia before drawing in a soft breath to
reply.  "D," he said simply.
     Both he and Lani turned to look as the mug of beer very quietly hit the
table, the exposed part of the hunter's skin turning pale.  She remained very
still before slowly lifting her head up, a pair of dark purple eyes looking out
from under the brim of her hat.  The hunters looked at one another in silence
before she finally drew a breath.
     "You saved my mother," she said very quietly.  "Hazel Averness of Cyan."
     D nodded as the name registered, having freed her from a vampire's castle
a number of years ago.  She hadn't been the only captive he had broken out of
the dark dungeon that early morning, of course, but she was the only one who
had approached him later when he was getting ready to leave.  He still hadn't
figured out why she did so, but he allowed himself to keep the other promise he
had made to Leila....
     "Carmen, you simply amaze me sometimes," Lani said with a soft chuckle,
shaking her head to herself.  "You never told me anything like that had ever
happened to your mother.  That should be a *very* interesting story to hear."
     Carmen ignored the lamia and continued to stare at D.  "Thank you," she
finally said.
     D said nothing, simply nodding his head in mutual understanding before
turning to leave.  He almost sighed in frustration as he felt a hand take hold
of his wrist, causing him to turn back and face the lamia.
     "One more thing, my friend," Lani said very quietly.  "If you are who you
say you are, I'm afraid your reputation very much precedes you.  I can't say I
can imagine anyone's mug of ale being watered down by tears over the loss of
Count Niles, may his dark soul rest in peace.  Most of us remember what a nasty
bastard he was before the birth of his youngest daughter."
     She tugged very gently on his wrist as she leaned closer to him, her voice
dropping a few decibels.  "However, almost everyone here happens to like Galen.
Most of the people in this city would be.... personally displeased if anything
were to happen to her while under your care."  She let go of him and leaned
back, idly rubbing the inside of his leg with her tail.  "You may consider that
a friendly warning, dunpeal.  One symbiot-host to another," she added with a
casual gesture.
     "Thank you for the warning," D replied calmly.  He paused for a moment
before adding, "And your help."
     "Anytime, dunpeal," Lani purred suggestively, turning to watch him as he
passed by.  "Anytime....  So that's the legend," he heard her fading voice say
as headed for the door.  "I can see they weren't exaggerating much.  Tell me,
Carmen, why can't I snag a man like that, even if only for a few hours?  Galen
is in for a very, *very* interesting time if she's traveling with him...."
     He waited until he left the tavern and closed the door behind him before
glancing down at his hand.  It took a moment for the thing to realize it was
being looked at, the wrinkles eventually parting to expose its face.
     <What?> it said in a slightly defensive tone.  It received only silence in
reply and gave D a disturbed look.  <What?> it repeated.
     "Nothing," D said in a perfectly neutral tone as he lowered his hand and
looked around, spotting the building that he had been told about.  He made his
way across the causeway, trying to ignore the thing as it rambled on.
     <Look, that thing wasn't in your face, okay?> it started to babble at a
rapid pace.  <I mean, c'mon.... it's no worse than you looking into the face of
another dunpeal and not liking what you see.  What a brutish lout, not even
capable of talking like a civilized being.  I mean, granted we're not the most
sentient of creatures roaming this godforsaken planet, but we're not all boors,
you know.  Most of us are smarter than a rock in a box.  You see where it had
attached itself?  Damn, maybe you should be thanking me that I didn't try to
embed myself in your nuts or something.  Now there's a boring place to try to
spend a few hundred years.... *OW!*  Hey, that was just a joke!  Ow, ow, ow!>

                *               *               *               *

     The man behind the counter looked up as D entered the small metal shop,
appraising him with a very critical eye.  They looked at one another for a few
moments before the weaponsmith spat into the corner, a sharp hiss rising up as
the spittle encountered something extremely hot.
     "Go away, I'm busy," he growled as he turned back to his anvil.
     "Lani said you could help," D said calmly.
     The smith paused and cast another dark look over his shoulder.  He seemed
to take his time in studying the size of the empty scabbard before he made a
curt gesture with his chin.  "Fourth cabinet," he said before turning his back
to the hunter.
     D said nothing as he crossed the room, absently glancing at the various
types of weapons on display.  The majority of them were swords of all shapes
and sizes, but more than a few projectile weapons in various states of repair
were scattered among the blades.
     The rusted hinges on the cabinet protested loudly as D opened the door,
finding himself face-to-face with at least six swords of the general variety
that he had come to favor.  He took his time in examining each one, knowing
that whichever one he chose would likely be with him for a long time to come.
     <D?> it suddenly spoke up quietly.  <That fourth one looks like it was
forged by the same smith as the one you acquired from that island vampire.  It
feels pretty solid to me, although you'll need to tighten that hilt a little.>
     He said nothing for a moment, his mind automatically flashing back to that
particular battle.  Killing that vampire had cost him his sword, much in the
same way that killing Count Magnus Lee had, and so he had selected a new blade
from the wall collection on his way out.  The balance had been superb and the
edge extremely keen, serving him remarkably well until it was destroyed by the
acidic blood of a particularly nasty mutant....
     The hilt was indeed just a little loose as he picked it up.  A few solid
blows from the smith's hammer would likely correct the issue, leaving him with
a very well-crafted and balanced sword.  He could already imagine the comfort
of its weight on his back as he carried it over to the smith, chiding himself
for such an emotional weakness but understanding it nonetheless.  He was almost
at the counter when a basket of smaller weapons caught his eye, causing him to
stop and examine the assortment of knives and daggers.
     <You're like a kid in a toy store sometimes, you know that?> the thing in
his hand spoke up half an hour later as D finally narrowed his choices down to
two daggers.  Both were crafted to be thrown, possessing an exceptional sense
of balance and a perfect center of gravity.  <Poking with this one, playing
with that one.... just pick one, D.  We both know you'll just use it to blow a
bloody hole through some ugly critter somewhere along the line, so looks won't
really matter too much.>
     D made a very soft noise to himself as he realized the simple truth behind
its words.  He put the rune-carved blade back and selected the less decorated
dagger, adorned with a simple sigil-stamp at the base to denote who might have
made it at one point in time.  He then reached up, putting both the sword and
the dagger on the counter.
     The smith barely glanced over his shoulder before returning to his work,
pumping the bellows up to heat a length of metal.  "Two hundred thousand," he
said flatly.
     "The sword hilt needs to be tightened," D spoke up as he reached for his
coin pouch.  He paused for a moment as the smith turned around again, a dark
scowl marring his face.  He watched impassively as the smith reached for the
sword, spitting in disgust as he felt the hilt rattle slightly.
     "Bad recasting," he snarled, more to himself than to D.  "Five minutes,"
he said slightly louder, carrying the blade over to his forge and laying it
flat on the anvil.
     D allowed his attention to wander around the room as the sound of heavy
hammering filled the air, idly studying the other weapons that were for sale.
He studied the hilt of what was known as a sun-sword, a legacy weapon that was
both extremely powerful and extremely dangerous to use.  They were rare to find
these days, as few had the technology and resources to maintain the intense
plasma fields they generated when switched on.  He had used a sun-sword himself
once, a very long time ago back when....
     <Hey,> it protested quietly as D suddenly shook his head, trying to dispel
the sudden resurgence of memories.  <Got another gnat in your ear or what?>
     He said nothing as he browsed the rest of the weapon cases and displays,
trying to keep his mind empty.  He paused as something seemed to leap out at
him, causing him to back-track half a step to study the weapon.
     <Oh, now that's nice,> it cooed as D picked up the rapier, testing it for
balance.  <Let me get a closer look, eh?  Oh.... ohhhhh, D, this is a *nice*
blade.  You don't see many platinum-silver amalgams like this.  Hmm, it feels
like it might even have a titanium filament as a core.  Heh, let's see you try
to break *that* with a carbon dagger....  Uh, D, where are you going?  Put it
back, it probably costs a fortune.  I'm serious, with all this platinum?  D,
you've got to be kidding me....>
     "How much?" D asked quietly as he held the highly reflective rapier up.
     The smith paused in mid-stroke and cast a glance over his shoulder.  His
eyebrows arched up a fraction of an inch as he studied the foil before brining
the hammer down in a heavy blow that made the entire room resonate briefly.
     "Five hundred thousand," the smith said flatly as he brought the repaired
sword back to the counter and set it down.  He watched impassively as D laid
out a moderate pile of coins on the edge of the counter, scooping up both the
sword and the dagger.
     <D, are you out of your mind?> it protested as D left the shop, sliding
the sword into the empty scabbard on his back and tucking the dagger into the
empty sheath on his belt.  He held the rapier by the base of the foil as he
made his way back along the causeway, heading back to the tavern.  <Two hundred
thousand for a new sword and dagger I can see, but half a million for a shiny
pointed chunk of platinum as well?  I know we can afford it, but....>
     "Enough," he said quietly, casting a casual eye around the mutant city.
Very few people seemed to care about his presence, glancing up at him for a few
moments before returning to their business.  Those whom he passed as he walked
seemed to pay him little heed, only moving aside when necessary as strangers do
when moving past one another.
     Very little in the tavern seemed to have changed since he left.  Lani and
Carmen were still at their table, joined by another pair of female mutants in
a very quiet group discussion.  The edge of Carmen's hat lifted up just enough
to let her see who was walking through the door, her purple eyes meeting his
for a brief moment before refocusing on her half-empty mug of beer.
     He crossed over to the other side of the room, more out of a casual desire
to avoid being waylaid by Lani again than anything else.  He made his way over
to the stairs and ascended them, the back of his mind warning him that a number
of the patrons were now watching him.  A very brief glance out of the corner of
his eye told him that nobody was actively posing a threat, however.  Whether
that was because of his reputation or because he was clearly armed he couldn't
say, but it didn't matter to him either way so long as he was left in peace.
     The door lock resisted him as it had Galen earlier, seeming to stick for
a moment before yielding with a soft creak.  He stepped inside and closed the
door behind him, engaging the lock with a casual twist of his wrist.  A quick
glance around the room told him that everything was exactly as he left it, the
odd cocoon still securely attached to the ceiling.
     <D, you're starting to worry me now,> it spoke up as he sat down on the
edge of the bed.  His new sword was removed and set aside to lean against the
small nightstand.  The wide-brimmed hat was hung on the hilt a moment later,
shortly followed by the broad expanse of his cape.  His boots came off next,
moving to place them at the foot of the bed before discovering that Galen's
boots were already there.
     <Do you even know what you're doing?> it asked as he gently picked up her
boots and neatly laid them against the wall.  The rapier was laid right next
to them, the super-sharp tip leaving a divot in the floor as it was set down.
He then returned to the bed and laid his boots out next to his sword, casting
a wary glance at the switch on the wall.  A simple flick plunged the room into
near-total darkness, only the faintest of light visible from something glowing
in the bathroom.
     <Look, it's a real simple question, D,> it protested.  <Either you know
what you're doing or you don't.  If you do know what you're doing, great.  It
wouldn't be the first time you had a plan in mind and didn't clue me in until
the absolute last second.  But if you *don't* know what you're doing, you need
to tell me so we can try to figure it out.>
     For all the times it had annoyed him with such questions, there were just
as many times when the questions proved to be both useful and insightful.  What
*was* he doing, anyway?  She was the last, the very last one, the final step he
needed to take to purge the world of the curse of the vampire.  Her and him.
He knew he would welcome the darkness when it finally came, now that his mother
was truly at peace now....
     The voice drifted up to him from his memories, spoken by one whom he had
long wished would remain silent but yet still desired to hear again.  Actually,
I don't know why you hunt vampires.  I understand the need to exterminate them,
but you never told me why you decided to pick up a sword.  Tell me, D, what is
it that drives you to pursue those blood-thirsty creatures of the night?
     Come, another voice echoed in his mind amid the sound of laughter.  Let us
see if my death will silence the screams of your mother....
     The voices continued to echo in his mind long after he slid into a state
of semi-consciousness, not quite awake but not quite asleep, spoken by a woman
he had come to love in the little time spent with her before her loss and by a
man he had come to hate in his entire life, a man he had only gotten to know in
the few minutes before his death.  A rather calm, quick and painless death, one
so unlike the one his mother had suffered through until her body succumbed and
her soul was allowed to drift free....
     The screams that echoed in his dreams were not his mother's, but his own.

                *               *               *               *

     Vampires had a keen interest in the sun, given the fatal consequences of
being exposed to it.  As such, they had evolved over the ages to become aware
of where the burning disc was in the heavens at all times, even in the depths
of slumber.  The crossing of the horizon, both rising and setting, produced the
most powerful of vibes in their bodies to warn them when the danger was past,
or when the danger had just begun.
     D awoke as the tingle ran through his blood, just the faintest of shivers
that he had come to recognize as the feel of the rising sun.  His human blood
protected him from being instantly crisped by the searing light, but even that
only went so far before the radiance would first incapacitate, then kill him.
Resting in complete darkness did a lot to restore his vitality, but the only
true remedy was to rest buried in the comforting embrace of the earth.
     He wondered if he had the strength to see the journey to the end before
having to 'take a dirt nap' as that thing so cavalierly phrased it.  He very
much disliked having to do so, not because of how dirty he got but because it
keenly reminded him of his darker half.
     <Good morning,> it greeted him with a faint yawn.
     D cast a very irked glance at his hand as he began to yawn as well.  He
froze for a split-second as he saw the dark shape on the ceiling, remembering
after a moment what it was.  Or more precisely, who it was.
     <Hey, D?> it said quietly as he rose to his feet, absently stretching out
a minor kink in his sword arm.  A faint twinge in his abdomen reminded him that
he was still healing.  While his regeneration sealed wounds quickly, completely
repairing all the damaged or destroyed tissue tended to take longer.  <This is
just one of those hunch things, but you might want to use the can before you
wake her up.  You know how women are when it comes to hogging the bathroom in
the morning.>
     He just stopped and looked down at his hand, wondering just what exactly
was leading it to believe that he knew much about women as a species, let alone
being consciously aware of trivial details like their morning bathroom habits.
He cast a quick glance at the cocoon and headed into the bathroom to take care
of his own business, deciding it was not worth the effort to argue with it so
early in the morning.
     The cocoon was still in place when he returned, a fact that surprised him
slightly.  He was fairly sure that she had felt the rising of the sun just as
easily as he had, and the way the plumbing had rattled when he flushed the
toilet could have woken a three-quarters dead zombie from a slumber.  So why
hadn't she started to stir just yet?
     <She wasn't kidding about being a solid sleeper,> it chuckled softly to
itself as he reached up to touch the shell-like covering.  The satin cape had
taken on both the color and consistency of soft bark, identical down to the
smallest detail that he could determine.
     Empathic control over inanimate objects such as one's clothing was a skill
that most vampires could learn, animating them with a simple act of will.  The
degree to which they could be commanded to act depended on the individual skill
of the noble, which tended to vary quite widely.  He himself had the power to
do so, once causing his own cape to try to hold onto the edge of a crevice as
it opened up beneath his feet.  It required a fair amount of effort to do so,
however, or at least it did for him, and so he tended to limit his exertions to
keeping his hat and cloak both in-place and out of the way during combat.
     His hand traced the bark-like cape from one end to the other, remembering
how Meier Link had been able to turn his into steel to use as a weapon.  The
thoughts were thrust from his mind a moment later, not wanting to remember the
rest of the events that had followed that first discovery of Meier's ability.
     His fingertips soon encountered her hair, very lightly brushing across the
blue-green strands with a feather-light touch.  They seemed to be quite soft
and silky as they brushed against his hand, causing him to repeat the stroking
motion.  A slight frown formed on his face as the impulse registered on his
conscious mind, a quiet desire to simply touch her hair like that.  It was an
unknown impulse, one that seemed harmless but bothered him nonetheless.
     A very soft buzzing sound registered on his ears a moment later, looking
up to find the cocoon-shell vibrating gently.  He held perfectly still, one arm
still outstretched to touch her hair as he waited to see what she would do.  A
faintly suspicious look crossed his face as the buzzing stopped after a few
moments, starting back up once his fingertips resumed a slow glide through her
hair.
     He continued to very carefully stroke her hair, the buzzing noise growing
louder with every passing second until the cape-cocoon fell away from her body
without warning.  He lowered his hand to his side as she arched her back, her
head moving down until her barely-opened eyes were on level with his.
     <Good morning,> she buzzed very softly, her eyelids taking their time in
parting to reveal her insect-like eyes.  Their shape slowly returned to normal,
the ridges melting away until the smooth liquidness of her blue-green irises
were restored.  "Or are you not speaking to me for some reason?" she inquired
in a soft tone.
     "Morning," he replied calmly.
     "I suppose that's a start," she purred quietly, slowly allowing her arms
and legs to relax.  "I know I asked you to wake me gently, but I certainly
didn't expect something as gentle as that.  You have a nice touch, D."
     She carefully let her legs drop to the floor, making sure she had a firm
sense of balance before releasing the rest of her hold on the ceiling beam.  It
took a moment for her features to return to normal before she turned around,
giving him a slightly curious look.  "That was a compliment, you know," she
said quietly.  "Or do such things make you uncomfortable?"
     "The bathroom is yours," he said quietly, moving over to the bed to gather
his things together.  "Feel free to take as long as you need."
     "Thank you, I think," she replied with a raised eyebrow.  She glanced over
at the bathroom door before looking back at him, shaking her head to herself.
She padded over to the bathroom without another word, gently closing the door
behind her.
     <That wasn't so hard, now was it?> it spoke up with a faint chuckle.
     "What was?" he asked, pausing to cast a slightly wary look at his hand.
     <Being nice to her like that.  Honestly, how many times have you woken a
woman up with a gentle caress like that?> it inquired languidly.  He couldn't
see the smile on its face from his angle, but he could definitely hear it in
its voice.  <Don't get me wrong, that's a great way to do it, and I'm sure if
you had stuck around some of your other companions long enough you'd have found
out for yourself what it was *WRRRRF!*>
     D waited until the thing had fallen silent before taking his hand off of
the hilt of his sword.  He watched as a good three inches of it was removed
from the palm of his hand, idly wondering where exactly the thing's internals
were located.  He knew it could swallow up a *lot* of mass when it had to, but
the question was where did it go?
     He busied himself with the task of getting dressed, not overly concerned
with the answer to the metaphysical question.  He had gotten his boots on and
was in the process of reattaching his cape when he heard the heavy rattling of
the plumbing, shortly followed by the sound of the bathroom door opening up.
     "So that's what that sound was," Galen said with remote amusement.  "At
first I thought it was a toilet being flushed upstairs, until I remembered that
there isn't a third floor to this thing.  I guess they just don't make pipes
like they used to.  So tell me, D, do you....?"
     He lifted his head up as her voice suddenly trailed away without warning.
He turned to follow her gaze, suddenly realizing what she was looking at.  He
cast a quick glance at the expression on her face before returning to the task
of securing his scabbard on his back.
     She moved across the room in perfect silence, very slowly reaching out to
touch the platinum-and-silver rapier.  "D?" she whispered, her eyes dangerously
wide as she picked it up.  "What is this?"
     "You said the road ahead was dangerous," he replied calmly, tugging on the
various clasps and straps that tightly secured his equipment against his body.
He looked up to find a pair of liquid-like eyes staring hard at him, a look of
stunned disbelief clearly visible in their depths.
     "But...." she stammered for a moment.  "But this is....  D, this has to be
worth a fortune!" she protested.  "Why would you do this?"
     "You needed a weapon," D said in a neutral tone, not looking up at her.
He stood up and patted himself down again, a completely unnecessary gesture to
do but doing it anyway for reasons that he wasn't sure of.  He felt a touch on
his hand and looked up, feeling.... *something* unknown on the inside at the
sight of Galen on the verge of tears.
     "D.... thank you," she whispered very softly.  She looked at the rapier
for another few moments before sliding it into the empty sheath on her belt,
moving over to the wall to retrieve her boots.  She slipped them on with ease
and looked back up at him, still clearly taken aback by the gesture.  "I'm....
I'm ready when you are."
     He said nothing as he put his hat on, casting one final glance at the room
to make absolutely sure he wasn't leaving anything behind.  He nodded in idle
satisfaction and headed for the door, turning his head slightly to make sure
that Galen was following him.
     The stairs protested just as loudly as they had the first time, seeming to
announce to the tavern that someone was coming.  It occurred to the both of
them that perhaps the wooden slats had been made so squeaky for just that
purpose, warning the bartender and the patrons of their presence.
     D cast a sidelong look at Galen as she deftly plucked the room key from
his hand, handing it to the barkeeper with gentle nod of thanks.  She received
a soft series of moans in reply, accompanied by a gesture to a sort of buffet
table set against one wall.
     "I trust we have time to grab a quick bite for breakfast?" she inquired as
she rejoined him.  She edged past him without waiting for a reply, having by
now figured out when not to truly expect one.
     <A little feisty in the morning, isn't she?> it mused quietly, drawing a
dark look from D.  <Oooh, something smells really good in there.... watch out
for the lamia,> it added casually.
     D took a half-step to the left as he moved past Lani, glancing down at her
to find a distinctly coy look on her face as he dodged the casual flick of her
tail.  His gaze briefly swept across the table, only slightly surprised to see
Carmen keeping her company at this early hour.  The bracer was still securely
tied to her left wrist, but from this angle he could see that more marks were
hidden beneath the black leather.
     He idly wondered what had hurt her like that as he turned his attention to
the breakfast buffet.  It wasn't the widest variety he had encountered, but it
offered enough items he found palatable to make it worthwhile.  The majority of
what ended up on his place were wedges of fruit, not presently in the mood to
play the guessing game with the slices of meat sitting beneath the warmers.
     He glanced down at Galen's plate as he sat across from her, part of him
remotely amused to see that their choices were almost identical.  She glanced
up at him with a look of light amusement, already working on devouring a small
cluster of fairly ripe grapes.  He ignored her and started to eat, saving a
small portion of melon for the symbiot.
     They both looked up as the tavern door opened, admitting what could only
be described a wrinkled gnome-like creature that was maybe three feet tall.  He
carried a heavily-decorated staff that was easily twice his height and looked
to be about twice his age as well.  He stood up on his tip-toes to peer around
the room before spotting the two dunpeals, a faint hint of a smile crossing his
face as he shuffled over to them.
     "Countess Galen," he wheezed in a very soft voice.
     "Elder Marken," Galen replied with a nod of her head.  She hesitated for
a moment before adding, "I'm not claiming my father's lands, there is no need
to call me Countess."
     The gnome seemed to shrug in dismissal.  "You are a noble regardless, my
dear," he said in a voice made brittle by age.  "Our sympathies are with you
nonetheless for the loss of your father."
     "Thank you," she said with a hint of sadness.  She looked up as he made a
quiet noise to himself and pressed something into her hand.  "What's this?" she
asked as she held up the oddly-shaped trinket.
     "A token of our kind," the elder explained.  "You will always be welcome
in Cha'laka Hive, Countess Galen, and with this in your possession the other
Hives should be willing to grant you sanctuary if you need it.  A simple token
of kindness for all the kindness you've shown us, nothing more."
     "Thank you, Elder," Galen said with a smile of genuine gratitude.  She
blinked hard as the gnome then reached out with his staff, thumping it hard
against D's calf.
     "And you, hunter," he said in a slightly sharp tone.  "I was told you were
here in our Hive, but I was not told why."
     "Elder, he is...." Galen started to say before being cut off with a sharp
gesture.
     "I wish to hear him speak for himself," the elder said gently, his beady
eyes still fixed on D.  "I do not believe he will attempt to lie, as that is
not what I've been told of his nature.  Speak, hunter," he added.
     D lifted his head up to gaze squarely into the elder's face.  "Galen has
asked me to accompany her," he said simply.  "I have no interest in doing harm
to anyone in this city."
     The elder raised a bushy eyebrow and snorted quietly to himself.  "It is
not this city I am worried about but Galen," he countered in a low tone.  "I
know what brought you this region, hunter."
     "Elder, please," Galen spoke up quietly.  "I asked him to come with me as
an escort.  You don't need to worry about me."
     "I will worry about whatever I please," the gnome countered with only a
faint hint of amusement in his eyes.  "And for the moment, it pleases me to be
worried about you.  Eh?" he added as D reached down to his belt, drawing one of
his daggers and holding it out to him.  "What is the meaning of this?"
     "We have an agreement signed in blood," D said quietly, tilting the blade
slightly to show the gnome the dried crimson streaks.  "She will not come to
any harm while she travels under my protection."
     The elder remained very quiet for a number of moments, studying the dried
blood on the dagger.  "Very well," he said softly as the dagger was returned to
its sheath.  "I shall not worry about you then, my dear.  I think I speak for
the rest of the Hive when I say we will pray for you on your journey, wherever
it may take you."
     Galen smiled gently and leaned over, planting a soft kiss on the gnome's
bald spot.  "Thank you, Elder.  I won't ever forget your kindness."
     "Safe travels to the both of you," the elder said quietly, casting a final
glance at D before heading back outside.
     Galen shook her head gently as she studied the wooden trinket.  "My mother
had something like this," she said quietly as she tucked it away in a pouch on
her belt and resumed eating.  "It was a token of the Barbarois that would allow
safe passage through the city.  She said that it had been intended for her and
her alone, given her heritage, and so father had it set into the tombstone when
she passed away."
     She remained silent for several minutes, finishing her breakfast before
standing up to take the dirty plate over to the kitchen bins.  She paused as D
stood up as well, waiting for him to catch up before moving once again.  They
put their utensils in the bins before heading for the door together.
     D paused for a moment in the doorway, casting a glance over his shoulder
as he felt a tingle on the back of his neck.  He swept the room for possible
threats, his gaze coming to rest on the pair of purple eyes looking at him from
beneath the edge of a wide-brimmed hat.
     <D, what is it?> it asked very quietly.
     D said nothing as Carmen brushed a single fingertip against the brim of
her hat, tipping it just slightly in what might have been a gesture of either
farewell or respect.  He gave her a subtle nod of recognition, the edge of his
own hat dipping slightly in a gesture that would have gone unnoticed to anyone
who wasn't actively paying attention.  It didn't matter that he was a hunter of
vampires while she hunted something else, the unspoken bonds of understanding
and respect were often the only true feelings of friendship that people like
them ever had.
     <D?> it prodded carefully as he closed the tavern door behind him.  He
looked up to find Galen giving him a slightly curious look, wondering what had
delayed him for that brief moment in time.
     "Let's go," he said to them both, not in the mood to try to explain the
unspoken code of respect that existed between hunters.
     "D, go ahead and get your mount ready," Galen said as she turned to take
one of the causeways.  "I've got a bit of last-minute shopping to do.  Or are
you going to make me travel for five days without a change of underwear?" she
added lightly at the faint look of suspicion on his face.
     He said nothing as he headed towards the stables, knowing that she would
not run away while his back was turned.  Quite the contrary, he found it to be
more than a little bothersome that she seemed to be so willing to travel with
him given yesterday's events.  He couldn't readily figure out her motives for
doing so, save for stalling for time.  That made little sense to him, but he
knew that not everything would at first.
     He reached the stables in short order, tossing another coin to the stable
boy as his mount was promptly fetched and made ready.  The horse seemed to be
both well-rested and in good spirits, the faint scent of fresh oats discernable
in the air as it breathed.
     He almost moved to climb in the saddle when he remembered what Galen was
doing, moving instead over to the saddle-bags to make some room for a package.
A moderate space had just been freed up when the sounds of footsteps on the
spiral staircase reached his ears.  He lifted his head up to see Galen making
her way down to the ground level, holding a bundle that was smaller than he had
anticipated.  The bundle was handed to him without a word and was neatly tucked
away in the saddle-bag, fitting nicely between a small blanket and a set of
digging tools.
     She waited patiently as he climbed in the saddle, reaching up to accept
the offered hand and mounting up in front of him.  She grabbed the reins before
he could, nodding her gratitude to the stable boy as he opened the doors.
     Both dunpeals inhaled sharply as the full brunt of the morning sun spilled
through the doors, taking them by surprise.  The burning disc was still low on
the horizon, the optical illusionary effect making it seem twice as large as it
should be.  They weren't sure if the brightness was natural or due to the odd
lensing effect of the invisibility screen, but neither one wanted to remain out
in the open for very long.
     A simple flick of the reins set the mount into motion at a steady pace,
first steering southeast to follow the trail.  A guard tower stood just inside
the hazy bubble of light-bending energy that kept the Hive hidden from others,
manned by a number of heavily-armed mutants.  One of them nodded to her as they
approached, ducking back inside the tower to deactivate their segment of the
invisibility field.
     "I was wondering about that," Galen said quietly as the air rippled before
them, the intensity of the light dropping by a considerable amount.  "I mean,
I've been inside the Hive at sunrise before, but I never got curious enough to
ask about what the cloaking field did.  I don't know about you, but I'd rather
not have to put up with another case of heat exposure anytime soon.  Do you
mind if I drive for awhile?" she asked, casting a glance over her shoulder at
him.  "The trail east is pretty obvious, but I know a few places along the way
to stop and rest your horse."
     He glanced up at her before nodding silently, reaching one hand around her
waist to take hold of the saddlehorn for stability.  She gave him a look of
amusement as she braced herself in the saddle and gently snapped the reins.
The mount took the overt hint and picked up the pace, settling into something
that wasn't quite a gallop but still covered the terrain at a decent rate as
they headed due east, directly towards the rising sun.

                *               *               *               *

     They traveled in silence for close to two hours before Galen eased the
pace down to a casual trot.  The terrain here was primarily comprised of open
meadows dotted by the occasional patch of scrub brush.  She continued to guide
the horse along at a trot until they came across a small pond, easing back on
the reins to let the horse rest and momentarily graze.
     D frowned as he looked around the area, not finding any sort of shade or
cover from the overhead sun.  Casual travel during the day didn't bother him,
but having to do so after three days of non-stop combat was a different matter.
The guards and minions of Count Niles had mounted a fierce barrier-defense,
forcing him to fight through their ranks to make it up the trail to the castle
proper.  Things had only gotten worse on the inside, as it became obvious that
they had been preparing for his arrival for quite some time.
     The very edges of his lips curled back in a faint snarl as he realized
that he would most likely have to seek shelter soon, certainly before the end
of their five-day journey.  The thought of being buried and thus vulnerable was
bad enough, but given the fact that he had company....
     He blinked and looked up as she sighed heavily, the kind of deep sigh that
usually only accompanied a situation of despair.  She was staring off at the
horizon, her eyes narrowed as she searched for something that wasn't to be
found anymore.... like a castle.
     She paused and looked back over at him, a heavy sadness plainly visible in
her liquid-like eyes.  She sighed quietly again and looked down at the willowy
meadow-grass that grew around them.  "I used to be able to see the castle from
here," she said quietly.  "My father said he didn't want a large domain, just
enough to be self-sustaining and low-maintenance.  The land the Hive is on used
to be his, but he sold it to them after a couple of centuries of occupancy."
     He said nothing as she seemed to gaze around the immediate area, taking
her time in enjoying the view.  "The Cha'laka Hive was like a second home to my
mother after she left Barbarois," she quietly spoke up.  "Even though she came
from a culture that had lived in isolation for five thousand years, she seemed
to fit in nicely with the denizens of the Hive.  They welcomed me as well after
I was born and grew up enough to truly understand them and their way of life.
I tried to do the same with the Barbarois, but while they allowed me access to
their city in my mother's presence, I didn't feel the same sense of kinship as
I did here."
     She sighed quietly and looked over at him, studying him carefully.  "You
went through Barbarois once yourself, correct?" she inquired.
     He glanced over at her for a moment before nodding once, returning his
focus to the level terrain and the menacing sunlight.
     "I was still a child when my grandmother passed away, but I remember her
telling me about it," she continued.  "About how a vampire noble had come to
them seeking sanctuary with a bunch of hunters in pursuit.  She said that three
Barbarois volunteered to protect the carriage as it traveled, and that one of
them was a close and personal friend of hers.  Tell me how you killed them, D."
     D blinked in surprise at both the abrupt change in tone and the directness
of the question.  He turned to face her and found her twisted around in the
saddle, looking squarely at him with a fairly unreadable look on her face.
     A frown crossed her face as he remained silent.  She continued to stare at
him for a moment before she reached down, grabbing his left hand and flipping
it over to expose the wrinkles.  "I don't suppose you'll talk to me," she said
in an edged voice.
     <Umm,> it spoke up quietly, the wrinkles parting to reveal a face marred
by uncertainty.  <Listen, you're a cute dunpeal and all, but I don't want to
get involved in whatever it is the two of you seem intent on getting yourselves
into.  Nothing personal,> it added in an abashed tone.
     "Hmmph," Galen muttered, casting a dark look at D.  "Some company you're
turning out to be.  Do I want to ask why you don't want to talk about it?"
     <D?> the thing spoke up quietly, taking them both by surprise.  <I know
you don't want to remember everything that went on back then, so just give her
the basic background and stick to the part she's interested in.>
     D glanced down at his hand before looking up at Galen.  He noticed that
her expression had changed slightly, taking on a hint of guarded curiosity and
perhaps even concern.  Sighing quietly, he drew in a breath and began to tell
her about one of the most defining moments of his entire existence.
     "I was hired by the Elbourne family to rescue their daughter Charlotte,"
he said in a quiet voice.  "She had been kidnapped by a vampire named Meier
Link.  The Elbournes had also hired another team of vampire-hunters, the Markus
brothers.  We pursued Meier's carriage for a number of days, eventually up to
the gates of Barbarois.
     "One of the hunters was killed outside the gates, causing them to withdraw
for the moment.  I entered the city to try to negotiate with them.  While I was
inside, one of the hunters used an astral drug to project his soul and launch
a spiritual attack.  The carriage escaped the attack and I went after it.
     "One of the Barbarois guarding the carriage was a shadow-weaver, able to
warp and twist the darkness to his will.  He entrapped me in a shadow prison
that took some time to free myself from.  By the time I escaped, the carriage
was several miles down the road.  My horse had died in the attack, so I was
delayed for another few hours while I secured a new mount."
     She nodded slowly in understanding.  "Sounds like Benge," she explained.
"Grandmother said he was a little touched in the head, but he was one of the
few Barbarois who could meld into shadows.  Let's go," she said to the mount,
reaching down to pat the side of its neck before gently flicking the reins.
     They traveled down the road a few hundred yards before she peered over her
shoulder at him, giving him a faintly reproving look.  "You can still tell me
about what happened as we ride, D," she prodded gently.
     D sighed quietly and looked back out at the flat terrain, briefly looking
up at the burning sphere in the sky.  "I caught up with the carriage while they
were resting their horses in some ruins," he said quietly.  "Charlotte was out
in the open to bask in the sun, which meant that she was still human and that
I wasn't too late.  One of the other hunters intervened, trying to take her
back by force, and we were both attacked by one of the Barbarois.  A dryad."
     "Caroline," Galen said softly, causing D to lift his head up to look at
the back of her neck.  She twisted slightly to look at him, her blue-green eyes
seeming to be filled with regret.  "That was my grandmother's friend.  Please,
tell me how she died," she asked very quietly
     "I pursued her into a wooded area," D explained in a calm and measured
tone, his voice remaining as soft and gentle as hers.  "Had I known about her
powers, I wouldn't have done so.  She had melted into the trees to escape when
I was overcome with heat exposure.  She then assumed the form of a treant and
attacked me, leaving me with no other choice but to strike back.  I managed to
decapitate her while she was in her treant form and immediately sought shelter
against the sun.
     "While I lay buried in the earth, she regenerated her body and tried to
attack the hunter who had intervened earlier.  The hunter drove a knife into
her skull and a bolt of lightning struck a few moments later, drawn by the
metal and finishing the task before the favor could be returned."
     Galen closed her eyes and sighed quietly, trying not to imagine what he
had just described.  "So it wasn't you after all," she said softly once she had
regained her composure.  "Everyone had blamed you for it, simply because they
didn't think that anyone else could have killed her.  You said she died while
in a forested area?  Good," she said when D simply nodded to her.  "At least
she found peace in a place her spirit could rest comfortably in."
     They rode along in silence for awhile, Galen absently steering the mount
as she reflected on her grandmother's stories while D quietly brooded about the
past.  He looked up as she called his name quietly, finding her looking over
her shoulder at him once again.
     "D, what about the other one who was with them?" she inquired.  "Mashira."
     "The lycanthrope," D said quietly, causing her to blink at the tone.  "He
remained with the carriage until it approached Castle Chaythe, abandoning it to
try to stall me long enough for the carriage to reach the castle."
     "Castle Chaythe?" she echoed in surprise.  "Carmilla's castle?  So it WAS
you who finally put her spirit to rest!  My father thought it was you, but he
felt it was too dangerous to try to find out for sure.  He.... didn't want to
attract your attention," she added, her voice dropping to a soft whisper.
     D said nothing for several moments, trying very hard not to remember what
happened after he had entered the castle.  "Mashira made no effort to conceal
his presence, seeking to engage in a battle that was designed to delay me.  I
was able to approach him undetected and so the encounter was.... brief."
     "I see," Galen said very quietly, returning her attention to the trail.
"When they didn't come back, the Barbarois held a memorial in their honor.  My
grandmother never was able to tell me what the elders said about them without
starting to cry.  She said they were viewed as heroes who had died in the line
of duty for the sake of the honor and reputation of the Barbarois."
     "They did what they were hired to do," D said calmly.  "Nothing more."
     "Much like you do, D?" she spoke up without thinking, her tone faintly
laced with bitterness.  She paused as she realized what she said and glanced
over her shoulder at him, studying the look on his face.  "I.... didn't mean
that in a bad sense," she amended quietly.
     D looked at her before gently shaking his head.  "As I told their elder,
I have nothing personal against the Barbarois.  Indeed, their loyalty to their
ancient traditions is something to be admired.  I was hired to do a job and the
Barbarois were hired to stop me.  There is no honor to be lost or won when it
is simply a matter of doing business."
     Galen just shook her head to herself.  "I could never live like that, as
a mercenary with no ties to anything but gold," she said in a subdued tone.
"Is that all you are these days, D?  A hired blade who will exchange the blood
of your vampire kin for mere coin?  I'm almost afraid to ask what the true cost
of this was," she added darkly, reaching down with her right hand to run her
fingertips along the hilt of her rapier.
     "So tell me, hunter," she continued in a slightly clipped tone, her mood
growing darker the more she thought about things.  "What became of this Meier
Link you pursued for so long?  Surely the great vampire-hunter rescued the
kidnapped girl and slew the evil fiend who dared take her.  How much gold did
you collect in exchange for his head on a stick?  And how much gold will you
receive for my father's death?" she demanded as she jerked the horse to a halt
and spun around in the saddle to stare into his eyes.
     He looked up at her as that last sentence came out, seeming to drip with
scorn and contempt.  "None," he said calmly.  He waited until her liquid eyes
had blinked with surprise before explaining.  "My contract with the Elbourne
family only related to Charlotte, not Meier Link.  She died in the castle and
her ring was returned to her family as proof of her passing.  Meier then used
Carmilla's shuttle to take Charlotte's body up to the City of the Night, never
to return to the planet again.  That was his original intention all along....
his and Charlotte's.  I saw no need to pursue him."
     "What?" she said, blinking in surprise again.  "You mean she went with him
of her own accord?"
     "So it seems," he replied with a subtle nod, praying that she wouldn't ask
him to recount the entire story of their tragic love for one another.  It had
taken him quite a long time to quit thinking about that one, helped in part by
the time he had been alone with Leila during the sandstorm.  "Charlotte's ring
was returned by the lone survivor of the other hunter team," he added, causing
her head to snap up.  "I made no monetary profit from it."
     She looked at him in heavy silence before taking in a deep breath, seeming
to brace herself for something unpleasant.  "And my father?" she asked in a
steady voice, belied only by the look in her blue-green eyes.
     "I was not hired by anyone to kill him," he said quietly, suddenly unable
to look into her liquid eyes any longer.  He let his gaze roam across the flat
terrain as he continued to speak.  "I know he was one of the ones involved in
the attack on my father's palace, a number of years after my mother.... after
she was murdered.  He had taken great pains to keep his whereabouts closely
guarded since then, and it was only recently that I was able to finally trail
him to this castle."
     "D?" she breathed quietly, drawing his attention back to the soft curves
of her face.  "You mean.... my father was involved in the Blood Wars?"
     D simply nodded, knowing that she was referring to the bloodiest part of
the ten-thousand year history of the vampire reign.  Upset with the Vampire
King's iron-fisted rule, a legion of nobles had banded together in an attempt
at usurping his power and destroying him.  His father eventually fell, but not
before most of the vampire population had been decimated almost to the point of
extinction.  Their numbers had slowly returned after the end of the Blood Wars,
but that had all changed once he began his crusade to put an end to things....
     Galen slowly shook her head in disbelief.  "He never said anything about
it," she whispered.  "D, the legends...."
     "Are in the past," he interrupted quietly.  He leaned forward slightly,
grabbing the reins from her and giving them a gentle flick.  The mount started
back in on a casual trot, slowly heading further down the trail.
     "D...." she said quietly, reaching up to touch him.  She blinked as he
edged away from her touch, finding a dark look of concealed pain in his eyes.
She tried to study that hidden emotion before she finally turned away, righting
herself in the saddle and holding onto the horn for balance.  She knew that
there was a great deal more to the story than he was telling her, but the pain
in his eyes....
     A lot can happen in five days, he had said, the quiet words starting to
echo in her mind for some reason.  She knew that half of the first day was
almost behind them, the searing light of the sun reaching its zenith overhead.
She decided she would try asking him about the Blood Wars and her father's
involvement another day, not wanting to push things.  She had seen it in his
eyes when he talked, opening up just the slightest amount.  She thought there
had been far more hidden in shadow behind the story of Charlotte's kidnapping
as well, a sort of woman's intuition whispering softly to her.
     Very well, she thought to herself, I will not pry further into your pain
or your past.  For now, she added as they rode along in silence.

                *               *               *               *

     They stopped twice more along the trail, both times near small ponds of
water and willowy grass.  They dismounted to stretch their muscles as the mount
drank and rested, D seeming to withdraw further into a shell of sorts while
Galen tried to relax and savor the beauty of the local terrain.
     They were approaching the edge of a wooded area when Galen tugged on the
reins, guiding the mount over to another small oasis of water and long-bladed
grass.  The sun was starting to approach the horizon behind them as she slid
out of the saddle and walked around, absently patting the horse's flank.
     "The trees will remain fairly thin for another day or so," she called out
to him as she sat down at the end of the pond.  She wriggled out of her boots
and soaked her ankles in the cool water, a faint look of bliss crossing her
face at the contact.  "There's an old druid circle further up along the trail.
I usually camp out there when I'm not riding through the twilight hours.  You
have any objection to staying put at night?"
     He said nothing as he looked at the flaming skyline, watching as the edge
of the sun started to brush the horizon.  He narrowed his eyes as he thought,
wondering just how long he would be able to keep going at the current pace.
The forest canopy would cut down on the amount of sunlight he would be exposed
to, which meant that he should be able to endure another full day before he
would be required to make use of the digging tools in the saddle-bag.
     <Uhh, D?> it spoke up quietly, too quietly for Galen to overhear.  <Let's
not try to be a macho man with this one, okay?  I don't know how well you're
holding up, but I seem to remember an awful lot of sunlight this past week, and
you know what that means?  Heat exposure.  Need I remind you of the last time
we went through this one?  And I have the sneaking suspicion that you won't be
able to rely on a passing werewolf to take pity on you and bury you like a bone
in the backyard again....>
     D said nothing, his right hand suddenly reaching up to touch the hilt of
his sword without consciously realizing it.  A faint chill registered on his
senses a moment later, the unmistakable feeling that someone or something was
nearby and was watching him.
     "D?" Galen said in a low tone, remaining absolutely motionless.  She had
been reaching for her boots when she saw him tense, her own combat instincts
telling her not to move until she had a better feel for what the problem was.
     "In the woods," he said quietly, staring at a particular section of the
treeline.  The sensation of being watched had faded after a few moments, but
not before he had caught the barest flickers of motion behind one of the trees.
He wasn't sure if it had been a falling leaf or a squirrel that had drawn his
attention, but he had long ago learned to trust his instincts when they tried
to tell him something is amiss.
     She scanned the woodline for a few moments before glancing back at him, a
faint frown crossing her face as she saw him slowly lowering his hand from his
sword.  "What do you think it was?" she asked as she gently shook the water off
of her skin and stepped into her boots.
     "I don't know," he said simply, his eyes still narrowed in suspicion.
     "Bandits don't usually operate this far out," she spoke up as she slowly
moved next to the mount.  "They usually stay fairly close to the human village
that's another two days down the road.  We're technically still on my father's
lands, and he had a reputation for dealing somewhat decisively with any common
thieves who dared bother people passing through his domain."
     I'll bet he did, D thought to himself in a momentary fit of sarcasm.
     <So how did he deal with the uncommon ones?> the thing inquired, the voice
briefly startling Galen as she went to reach for the saddlehorn.
     "I never asked," she said simply, casting a faintly wary look at D as she
took his offered hand.  She hoisted herself in the saddle and picked up the
reins, glancing down at her side to where D's left hand rested on his thigh.
"But I doubt that he killed them if that's what you're getting at.  After all,
how is one supposed to learn the error of one's ways if they're dead?"
     Both D and the thing remained quiet as the mount was gently urged into
motion once mor