Thankfully, I didn’t have to rack my brains anymore.
My question about how to help was answered before I could even voice it.
"Take towards my hideout. It’s close," she said weakly, her voice barely a whisper as she pointed a trembling hand towards a direction deeper into the forest.
"Alright then, excuse , My Fair Lady," I told her, my voice gentle as I carefully scooped her into my arms.
Her body was surprisingly light, and her skin was cold to the touch, like a statue.
I was mindful of her bleeding wound as I began to run towards the direction she pointed.
But as I did, I felt a strange feeling.
A subtle but distinct drain on my energy, an almost imperceptible weakening.
Hmm, strange. Why do I feel slightly drained? I pondered for a mont, but I had more pressing matters to attend to.
I was still in the middle of a hostile forest, carrying an injured woman, and I was sure that "damn crow’s" friends wouldn’t be far behind.
I pushed my thoughts aside and focused on my speed, weaving through the dense trees with a vampire’s supernatural agility.
I wished I could teleport wherever I wanted, I thought while running
Actually, the only reason I could teleport was because of the connection, as it had turned on so kind of safety chanism and teleported forcefully.
I still hadn’t figured out how to replicate that consciously.
It seed a lot of my new abilities were situational and beyond my control.
Now that I think about it, this woman’s attire resembles a witch’s, I pondered, a new thought erging.
Maybe I could learn a few magic tricks from her.
It wouldn’t hurt to have a new skill.
The thought of being able to heal with magic, to have more control, was intoxicating.
She was a witch and belonged to now; I could just ask her to teach .
We soon reached a dead end
A Huge rock that rose up like a formidable wall, blocking our path.
However
I had a feeling there was more to it, an illusion or a magical barrier, as no natural formation would be this perfectly situated in the middle of a forest.
"Take closer," she urged weakly, her voice raspy as she pointed a trembling finger at the rock.
As she wanted I closed onto the rock and as soon as she touched the rough surface, the stone shivered and rippled like water.
A mont later, an invisible boundary parted, revealing an underground gateway.
I looked dazed at the spectacle
"Let’s g—cough!" she woke up with a cough and I hurriedly entered the secret base.
The hideout was an enormous cavern, not at all what I had expected.
It wasn’t just filled with books; shelves upon shelves stretched from floor to ceiling
Overflowing with grimoires and scrolls that glowed with a faint, magical light.
Glass vials filled with strange, shimring liquids hung from the walls, and the air slled of dried herbs, dust, and sothing a bit more like ozone.
"Let down. I can walk a bit now," she said, her voice stronger than before.
I felt it was dangerous to put her down as she was still injured.
"Are you sure? You’re still bleeding," I said, a genuine note of concern in my voice.
"Don’t worry, I’m fine to walk a bit," she insisted, her gaze firm.
"Besides, you probably don’t understand magical potions."
Her dismissive confidence was enough to convince .
I couldn’t argue with that.
I gently let her down, watching her legs wobble for a mont before she found her footing.
She walked towards a nearby shelf, her eyes scanning the titles as she searched for sothing.
Her movents were slow, but deliberate.
I watched, my new vampire senses picking up on the faint scent of a strange energy clinging to the books.
The subtle glow of sothing arcane radiating from the jars, and the potent sll of her blood still staining my clothes.
Suddenly my calm observation was shattered. A sharp gasp escaped her lips, and her shoulders slumped. Her hand hovered over an empty spot on the shelf.
"No! It can’t be! It’s empty!" she exclaid, a raw edge of despair in her voice.
The words echoed in the silent cavern, a testant to her utter hopelessness.
I asked with worry in my tone, "What happened? Did sothing go wrong?"
She turned her head towards , her face pale, the vibrant light in her eyes now dimming.
"The antidote for the poison... It’s empty," she muttered, a whisper of defeat.
The color had drained from her face, replaced with the creeping gray of sickness.
My own heart sank.
I felt a wave of dread wash over . What should we do now?
"Is there anything else we can do, like make the antidote now?" I asked, my voice edged with urgency.
But my question got a cruel answer.
"We don’t have that much ti—cough!" She choked on the words, a spray of dark blood staining her lips.
She swayed on her feet, and I was at her side in an instant, catching her before she could fall.
Looking at her pale, defeated face, I felt a deep, wrenching feeling of loss, one I had never felt before in my life.
’Damn it! Why is this script so ssed up?’ I internally cursed that damn writer of my life.
I placed her on a nearby bed, my hand trembling slightly, and asked with a final, desperate hope, "Is there any other way?"
She avoided my gaze, her eyes darting to a wall of bubbling potions, a clear sign of her turmoil.
I could feel her hesitation, a palpable force in the air between us.
With a heavy and weak sigh, she finally spoke.
"There is, but... it’s dangerous." Her voice was barely audible.
A ray of hope ignited within .
"What is it? I don’t care about the danger!" I pressed, but she turned her gaze away completely, her cheeks flushing a deep red that stood out against her sickly-pale skin.
I was confused at her reaction. ’
Is there a bullshit requirent or sothing?’ I pondered the strange mix of terror and embarrassnt in her face.
Then, with a shuddering breath, the words tumbled out of her mouth, filled with a mix of fear and awkwardness.
"We... I an, you and ... Argh—fuck it! We need to have sex. That’s all," she huffed, burying her face in the pillow.
For , it was weird.
’So, it’s just sex, huh? That’s easy.
However... how could it be dangerous?
I won’t need to do any crazy play, right?’
......
In a dark hall, lit only by the flickering flas of torches set in the walls
A woman with fiery red hair and eyes walked with light, purposeful steps.
The hem of her dark red gothic dress swished softly as she approached a massive, ornate gate.
This was Eleanor.
She stopped right in front of the gate, and with a low groan of ancient stone on stone, the doors opened on their own.
The air within shifted, becoming sweeter and heavier with a scent of flowers.
A sweet, mature voice echoed from within, causing Eleanor’s face to darken with annoyance.
"My dear daughter, you’ve co finally."
Eleanor didn’t reply. Instead, she walked inside and was greeted by a huge throne room.
At the far end, an extrely beautiful woman sat upon a throne carved from what looked like solid obsidian.
She was the spitting image of Eleanor, but older, more mature, and with a voluptuous grace that radiated an oppressive sense of authority.
"Okay, spit out what you need, you old hag. I’ve got my hubby waiting,"
She said, her voice dripping with insolence
Showing no respect one would expect from a daughter to her mother.
As expected, the woman on the throne was not thrilled by her daughter’s behavior.
A chilling silence filled the hall, and the air grew heavy.
"Is that how you talk to your mother, Eleanor?"
She inquired, her voice low and heavy with restrained fury.
Eleanor felt the pressure.
It was not a joke; her mother was truly, genuinely pissed off. Eleanor’s shoulders slumped.
She knew better than to provoke her mother when she was like this.
With a heavy sigh, Eleanor obediently bowed her head and respectfully greeted her.
"How may I serve Your Majesty, Erzsébet Camille von Karnstein?"
Yes, this was the Vampire Queen, and the Duchess of the East of the Land of Night.
....
Welco to the Author’s Hub
A woman with long black hair sat in a plush velvet chair in the center of a well-lit studio
The soft glow of a spotlight glinting off the lenses of her glasses.
She adjusted her spectacles with a graceful hand, a serene smile on her lips, and cleared her throat.
"Ahem... Hello, and nice to et you, dear readers. I am your host, Valentina, and this is today’s show: Author’s Hub." She greeted, a friendly warmth in her tone.
"You might be wondering what this Author’s Hub is," she continued with a knowing wink.
"Well, you can think of it as a brief discussion on how the story will progress from here."
She leaned forward and opened a small notepad on the table in front of her.
"We got a note from the Author about how the story will continue."
She gestured with a delicate hand.
"You can already understand that my son, Valerian, is still quite green about his powers.
That will be solved, albeit slightly, as he learns a bit more about this world from his newly encountered wife.
But still, he’ll need a proper ntor for his further developnt.
For that, our Author has decided to nominate a few legendary candidates from the myths and legends. Naly:"
rlin, The Mage of the Flowers
Cu Chulainn, The Hound of Culann
Solomon, The King of Magecraft
Abe no Seii, The Great Onmyoji of the Heian Era
"That’s who he’s decided on. Though, ultimately, he told he wants to choose rlin." Valentina sighed, a hint of resignation in her smile.
"Anyway, readers, please choose anyone of the above people and send your answer to the Discord server or in the comnts."
She closed her notepad and gave a final, polite wave to the cara.
"Well then, let’s et at the next show."
The story’s direction is now in your hands.
Which ntor will you choose for Valerian’s journey?
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