I can no longer remember the faces of the people who perished during the burning of my mother's castle. I knew them. I killed some of them with my own two hands, watched with rapt attention as the life faded from their eyes, and they greeted the Great Enemy, even though many among them were innocent. Many among them did not deserve their fate, but they went howling into the blaze all the same. And it satisfied me. It nursed the pain inside of me to see my mother so undone, to see her world so ruined the same way she ruined mine—the way she burned mine.

  But in the years after, though my hatred for my mother never diminished, my memory of the people that burned inside her castle began to fade. I don't remember their faces, but I still can hear the screams. They were a symphony of disbelief and sadness. They didn't know for what reason they burned. They didn't know why they suffered and died. They simply didn't understand.

  For how could they? How could they have known that they were merely collateral during my quest for revenge? I suppose if I were a better man, I would regret their deaths. I would lament them or try to make things right, but I am more honest than I am kind and righteous.

  And so here is the truth: I am sorry they died, but I do not feel regret. I do not regret escaping from my mother's castle. I do not regret torturing and murdering her vassals. I do not regret burning everything she had until all that remained of her legacy and memory was ash in the wind, until her kingdom was savaged by flame.

  Fire was my inheritance. And such is what I returned to her.

  I despise her, I loathe her, I hate her still. Her retainers mostly didn't deserve it. But the blackest and truest thing to admit is that when you are weak, when you belong to someone else, you are property to be damaged. Your fate is not your own.

  -Valor Thann

  240 (I)

  Vengeance [I]

  Shiv noticed the glinting spores following him as he made his way toward pediatrics.

  The children's ward of Last Chance Sanitarium was in the middle of the tower-shaped structure, with multiple routes to reach pediatrics. Last Chance had a magical elevator that brought people up and down at an alarming speed, the platform accelerating from stillness to well over 10 meters a second within the span of half a heartbeat. And then there were the gravity chutes that the Biomancers and medics primarily used. Finally, the building still had a set of central stairs, but that was blocked off by Hero-Biomancer Javelina after the encounter with the cancerous mutant.

  As the healers spread out, securing the hospital room by room and ward by ward, they were kept connected by checkpoints in the form of Vice 8, Javelina's Aeromantic Boar. The pig's wind clones monitored the students and also noted the spores drifting through the air. Shiv watched the vampire's many glinting specks as well. His Awareness was at peak capacity thanks to his Bifurcated Processing, and he wondered what the bloodspawn was planning.

  Shiv's fellow Biomancers and medics were on edge. They jumped and shivered at every stray gust of wind, every sound they heard coming from the nearby rooms. But they didn't know they were already being watched. And Shiv didn't tell them. Instead, he and his adversary kept a close eye on each other.

  The situation was bad enough, dealing with a Legendary-Tier vampire, and to find out that he was the disciple of Ekkihurst the Sculptor filled Shiv with a new level of trepidation.

  "Hey, Maxime," Malcolm said. Its fan head turned a full 180 degrees to face the Pathbearers just behind him. Ahead, their senior resident continued down the hall at a brisk pace. "You think it's too late for me to change my dedication to something like theoretical biology and research rather than Surgery and Neuromancy?"

  "Probably," Maxime said, deadpan, "and also, I don't think you have the grades for that. I also wouldn’t cast any spells you come up with. For the sake of my life and the lives of those around me.”

  "What's that supposed to mean?" Malcolm cried, with a hand placed against its chest in mock offense. "My grades are more than passable."

  "Uh-huh. I'll be sure to tell that to the next artery blockage you miss," Maxime shot back.

  "Ouch! That was only once! And besides, there aren’t any blockages, strokes, or aneurysms in medical research.”

  "Five times," Maxime said. "You keep missing them. Five times."

  "Well, it's not my fault that I don't have these little veins inside of me, these arteries. Can't you show some heart? I'm practicing this art at a disadvantage. I'm doing it for the love of magic."

  "And I'm sure our patients will be entirely grateful to your love of the lore when they start succumbing to the new plagues you invented because you shaped a mana-circuit wrong.”

  "Hey guys, less chatter, more keeping an eye out for things. There's still a fucking vampire on the loose." Beads of sweat dotted the forehead of Master-Biomancer Hall Habendale. The senior resident looked even more nervous than Maxime did, and his elven complexion betrayed every ounce of his terror. Even so, he was here, trying to do his duty, and Shiv really couldn't judge him.

  That's why Helix did it for him. "Look at him. He's shivering. He's dancing like a leaf. What's the point of being a Biomancer if you're afraid of a parasite? What is the purpose of having so much power when a simple vampire has you so unnerved? It's disgusting!"

  Shiv sighed. "Hey, Helix, less sneering at the students and more thinking about how we're going to handle this Legendary vampire who has the same Skill Fusion as the guy who knocked you flat on your ass."

  "It's already done," Helix replied with an arrogant scoff. "I have a plan."

  "Oh, and what's that?"

  "It's simple. We infect him."

  Shiv paused. "We're going to infect a Legendary-Tier vampire? Helix… I get that you think you’re good, but—”

  "The weakness is himself. He currently exists as a sort of mobile network of viruses. A… self-assembling plagueform. He is a series of spores that carries cancerous diseases from one body to another. And cancers can be treated; they can be struck using their own structures. Biology modulates itself; it wishes to govern itself. The cells have an intelligence, and we just need to guide them the right way, a subtle way that the pathetic frauds of the First Blood will not notice."

  "Yeah, sounds easier than done. You sure you can do this?”

  "Induitably. If something is easy, then it is not art," Helix declared vehemently. "Easy is what cripples and withers a body. Easy slows the mind. Easy leaves you weak with fear. Pray not for easy, pray to be so powerful that the impossible seems merely a struggle to you."

  And there were times that, despite Helix's intellectual arrogance, he reminded Shiv he was an orc—a creature made for strife.

  "We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay," one of Shiv's fellow medics repeated to herself over and over again. The girl wore ill-fitting white robes, and the beret she had was too large for her. Her twin pigtails swayed about as she looked behind her. With her was her twin sister, who held onto her wrist with desperation. Both of them radiated absolute dread, and he couldn't blame them at all. They weren't even proper Pathbearers yet. Not even Adepts in any skill.

  A total of five teams had been assigned to the pediatrics ward, and the way Last Chance Hospital was built, they were barely enough to cover the entire space. Each ward was like a cylindrical ring built around the exterior of the central tower. These were where the most extreme cases, filled with specific and magical diseases or new ailments that no one understood, were placed.

  There were over 400 patients on this level, and as he scanned his surroundings using his Vitaemancy, he saw that their life force was still there. Though not vibrant, they burned like crackling candles in the dark. They burned even through the walls, and none of them winked out as he watched. However, he didn't know what he was going to find once he entered one of those rooms, and his own gut was clenched tightly.

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  It was one thing to face the death of an innocent. It was another to behold the mutilation and butchery of a child.

  An ugly memory tore through him: 811 crushing the skull of the slave child he'd tried to save. Shiv's inner sourness deepened as he hoped the vampire hadn't done anything to the children. But those hopes were not high. The Court of the First Blood did not shy away from unspeakable atrocities. He saw what they did to Angelo’s village. There'd been children there too.

  System, for once, just no horror shows. I've had enough for one day. Just give me that, at the very least.

  But the ward's silence cut at him like a scalpel slowly gliding deeper under his skin. There were paintings on the walls, paintings made by the children, crude drawings of the medics that helped them, and of a large pig that smiled with a massive cigar in his mouth: Vice 8.

  Shiv turned and briefly snuck a glance at the boar's air clone following them. The large awakened beast was also worried. Even though he tried not to reveal it, his body language was tense, that of a predator, tight, prepared to spring into action at any moment. But it was clear that he was beloved here, at least by the children. Shiv felt like an intruder stepping into someone else's home, digging his fingers into history where he didn't belong. In that regard, he wasn't so different from the vampire. They were both hidden. They were both nested inside the structures of the Republic, using the people here to get what they wanted.

  “Alright, Maxime, Malcolm,” Master-Biomancer Hall said aloud. “Start doing your sweeps. I'm going to go to the Black Ward to make sure they’re still alright. They're the ones who need the most immediate treatment. Once you’re done here, head over. And… make it quick, because I don’t want to be there alone.”

  Hall swallowed once more, and he mastered his fear. Maxime nudged Shiv and gestured toward one of the open doorways. The Deathless nodded, and he hardened his will, prepared for whatever he might encounter. As they slipped in, he noted that the ceiling was also decorated, painted with images of religious iconography, but also cartoonish characters Shiv couldn't recognize.

  A bearded ogre dressed in a trench coat and wearing a fedora three times larger than his already colossal head stared down at the children with a goofy smile. Nearby, what Shiv could only assume to be a very rehabilitated depiction of Daughter was also there. Instead of holding a knife and being a misshapen monstrosity with a messed-up skull, she seemed a tall, albeit dark-skinned maiden with only her teeth porcelain white. Her unnaturally long arms were stretched out to her sides, and she held hands with the various children in the room, most of whom were bald, some of whom were scarred, others who bore strange growths on their faces.

  If Shiv was unnerved before, he was outright disgusted now. Daughter was no defender of children. Daughter was one that exploited them, that used them. She was, in terms of metaphor, as much a vampire as the adversary Shiv was hunting right now.

  "Okay, Marcus..." Maxime said. "So, for the... Wait a minute." Her voice trailed off, and Shiv laid his gaze on the first of the patients. He blinked. He did a double-take.

  The patients looked… entirely fine. Their complexions were pale, but each of them was sleeping. There were two boys and three girls in the left corner of the room, and across from them were five more children. All eleven of them had blackened sprays of ichor gliding down their skin; ugly rashes that once lined their bodies seemed to have peeled away, and the boils on one boy's face were rapidly fading, in the final processes of regeneration.

  If they were sick before, they weren’t now. Their bodies were mended—actively regenerating, and Shiv only had one suspect in his mind.

  "What the hells is happening here?" Malcolm hissed, also taken aback.

  But Shiv noticed something they didn't. He noticed a massive gathering of spores within each of the children. Yet the spores did not inflict cancers on them. Instead, they glided through the children's bodies, bidding their arteries and veins to repair and to mend certain points of their biology.

  Shiv had no idea what the First Blood Pathbearer was doing, but as soon as Shiv entered the room, the spores stopped their work. They held still, and they pulsed steadily within the hearts of each of the children.

  "Malcolm," Maxime breathed, swallowing hard. "I think we need to report this. I think something's happening here. Go get Vice 8."

  The automaton didn't need to be told twice. He rushed out of the room, and Maxime slowly walked toward one of the children. She leaned down, brushing the child's hair. She examined her using Biomancy, and as swelling tides of red splashed over the child, Shiv remained prepared, ready to spring into action in case the spores erupted out from the young patient to strike at Maxime herself. But that didn't happen. Instead, the spores remained dormant and waiting.

  All except for one. One slipped in from the corner of the room. He almost missed it, but his subconscious sent a jolt of pain through his body. His mind was running hot now, his Bifurcated Processing beginning to take its toll. Yet, he noticed the spore and watched it warily as it came in closer. Slowly, it hovered right above him, a subtle dot that escaped Maxime’s notice altogether.

  The Spore unleashed a cone of translucence over Shiv, and he heard the whispers of the vampire's mind: "I must ask you something, fellow Legend. I must ask you to stay your hand, to show at least a modicum of decency. If you are here to speak, then speak. But I must warn you: I will not forgive you if you harm the young. I will not forgive you if you butcher and mutilate the uninitiated, and I will inflict retribution upon your mind and flesh. Do what you will with the militia—deceive them; torture them. I care not for the lost dogs of the Republic, but these children still have the possibility to see beyond.”

  This took Shiv entirely by surprise. The vampire's voice was still cold, still cruel, still the kind that seemed capable of drinking joy from another's misery. Yet he sounded entirely genuine.

  Sage of the Enkindled Heart: He could be playing a game with you—trying to deceive you or confuse you—but whatever the game is... I can't see it. I don't understand what he's trying to do.

  "Yeah, you don't need to worry about that," Shiv replied. He kept a close eye on the other medics and Maxime as they began their ministrations for the patients. "I'm not here to hurt them. I'm here to talk with you."

  A low hiss escaped the vampire's mind. "I believe you," he finally said. "You are dangerous. I felt your strength and tasted the resistance infusing you. But I also notice the way you move. Too much confidence, too much strength. That's not your real body, is it? Are you hiding inside that boy? Or is it just a False Semblance, a shell?"

  Shiv didn't reply to that.

  "The latter, then. Very well. I will not ask you questions you don't care to admit, if you do not do the same for me. But you said you have a way out of this quarantine, this cage that the Ascendants have shaped around us. You said that you might be able to bypass it. Well, weave your tale for me. I will judge it as truth from lie."

  "Before that, I think we need to talk a little bit about trust."

  The vampire was taken aback. He almost laughed. "You think there can be trust? Between Legends? Between creatures such as we?"

  "Look," Shiv said, his mental voice casual, trying to take the vampire off guard. "You're clearly willing to deal with me diplomatically, and I'm willing to do the same. I think that even if we are both monsters, we can be reasonable monsters. I'm not here to rip you apart and expose you. I'm just trying to maintain my cover and to ensure... stability. I have no idea what you're here to do other than this so-called 'him' you're trying to hunt. I don't even know if it is the same 'him' I'm going after. But hey, let's start with a bit of honesty. Let's start with the fact that I think I know who you are."

  "And who do you think I am, oh fellow Legend?"

  "I think you are Tulveg the Irreverent, disciple of Ekkihurst the Sculptor."

  Silence followed. Two seconds passed. The vampire let out an annoyed rasp.

  "Ah, so you are astute. But now you have me suspicious rather than more trusting, for who else might recognize me, other than a hunter of the Inquisition, of course?"

  "If I was a hunter of the Inquisition, I would have locked the building down, and I would have gone after you with full force. Inquisition doesn't give a shit about individual children, or fifty, or a hundred. They're willing to burn a hells of a lot more than just a children's ward to kill an enemy Legend. But they're not trying to kill you, are they? They're trying to recapture you. They're trying to experiment on you. You can tell that I know because I was there," Shiv growled. "I saw what they did. I saw what they did to other prisoners. To Rebis."

  And that startled Tulveg. "Rebis? Is he still alive? Did he manage to escape? I prayed to the Great One that he broke free in the chaos. Or that he met a final end and was granted rest."

  Shiv now found a new avenue to tap into the vampire's trust. "Yeah, not unharmed, though. The Ascendants managed to recapture him for a while, and Enoch shoved himself inside Rebis, but that didn't last. The… explosion did things to their connection.”

  "Damnation," Tulveg snarled. "Rebis... He deserved better than this. A death would be more gentle than what they did to him."

  "On that, I think we can agree," Shiv said, and he tested something. He noticed how there was a small dot inside the speck there. Subtly, he cast a dark ember from his heart into the vampire and fanned the flames of his anger, realizing he could tap into that.

  Another angle of attack.

  "He's with us," Shiv said. "We managed to save him, but his current state is dubious."

  So far, Rebis and an unknown number of Legends and Heroes were still trapped inside the Educator's tome. Shiv hadn't had the time to talk with her about that, but he was going to have her release Rebis at some point. Maybe his messed-up half-sibling Threshold as well, just to potentially figure out what Udraal was planning.

  "Is the vulpine known as Five with you?" Tulveg asked.

  Shiv suppressed a grin. "Yeah. You wanna speak to him?"

  "Yes," the vampire said without hesitation. "Him and the rest of his cell. If they're there, I will know that I can trust you more." Suddenly, he hesitated. "Are you a Raven as well? Is that why you know such things?"

  Shiv laughed. "No, not even close. Frankly, I don't know who I despise more: your kind, or theirs."

  “Ah, my kind,” the vampire said with a chuckle.