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The sight was unbearable. More painful, even, than the many assaults Kain’s senses were undergoing.
That dungeon was old, filled with mold and rot, and his nose was overwhelmed by the smell of ancient death. His mouth felt no better, the acid of his drool filling it all. Nothing could come out anymore and instead he had to taste, again and again, his own empty stomach. He hadn’t eaten in days. Had only drunk a few drops of rainwater that found their way inside. All his sensations were regularly taken over by the horrible cramps and numbness under his guts.
When all this quieted, it was his wrists, dug in by layers of rope, so tight he felt his skin healing over it. He had a few others unhealed wounds, one arm badly hit and bruises on his legs, remains of the lost battle. These were almost secondary. He had even stopped hoping it wouldn’t infect.
And when the pain subdued, it was the silence. There were no sounds, not even some wind or howl. If it weren’t for the occasional visits he would have believed himself deaf. Many times his dark thoughts had been the only sound he could hear, so loud he took it for someone else speaking.
For a long time he only focused on his sight. It was dark, but not completely. Little holes in the stone ceiling allowed light through, like cold mocking stars. Thanks to them Kain could at least tell some of his surroundings. He had learned every crack, every stain by heart. He purposefully avoided looking at the massive mirror recessed in the wall in front of him though. The last time he did, seeing himself beaten and tied had destroyed what little hope he still held.
Right now, he could not avert his eyes.
Golbez had not visited him often in the many days Kain spent there, nor did he speak much. He seemed to only want to assert that his prisoner was not yet dead. Still proud, Kain hadn’t offered a word.
When he had heard, once again, the heavy footsteps on the other side of the wall he had muzzled the part of himself that was glad. He would have given anything for any interaction, or stimulation, but his honor was still stronger.
But this time his captor hadn’t left after a few words and a glimpse. He had gone to the mirror and a pale glow had spread over the silvering surface. Kain couldn’t have feigned detachment forever. He had looked up.
The sight was unbearable. The mirror’s tranquil surface had rippled under Golbez’s touch, shifting until two figures had appeared on it. A man and a woman in a moonlit room.
Rosa and Cecil, holding one another, their faces so close one began where the other ended.
Of course, Kain was overwhelmed with joy when he saw they were safe. Fear, too, to know how such magic could work. Even if his friends were safe, their enemies seemed able to observe them. And they didn't know. Could he hope that this wasn’t truly them, but a trick on his vision?
The way they held one another was all too familiar.
The scene played out, and for the first time Kain witnessed Cecil’s teeth sinking into the skin of another. He saw him stop after such a short time, his eyes gentle and worried. And as they kissed and laid against each other, Kain’s thoughts shifted from relief to a bitter and ugly sorrow.
The pain in each of his organs, the intense isolation, and above all the twisting emptiness in his stomach strangled the thought that he at least made the right choice in telling Rosa the truth.
The warmth and comfort of Baron and the presence of his friends was unreachable, as painful as it was distant. He was on the verge of begging for mercy while his friends were cuddling like nothing in the world mattered.
No, that wasn’t it, he could not blame them. He wanted Rosa to protect Cecil. He wanted Cecil to face the truth at peace.
Then why did he wait to be sent to his death to confess?
He could not bite his own lips for the taste in his mouth was atrocious. He could not cry either, his eyes dry and red from days spent covered in dust. There was nothing he could do but force his eyes out of the mirror, to the only other thing standing in the room.
Golbez hadn’t spoken. The drowning darkness prevented Kain from attempting a guess at his thoughts. He showed no sign of amusement at his reaction.
“Why are you showing me this?” Kain cawed, his throat burning with every word.
The moment he spoke the magic seemed to fade away and the mirror returned to its tranquil reflection. In the corner of his eyes, Kain noticed a few stains on the surface.
“I need to find this man and I know you can help me.” Kain shivered when he imagined what his intention toward Cecil could be. It terrified him as much as the simplicity of the request angered him.
What came out of his mouth was the closest he could make to a yell.
“After everything you’ve done to me, how could you think I would betray my friends ?!”
Golbez chuckled. He spoke, and walked toward the chained man, and Kain didn’t know what freezed his blood the most.
“You’re right, I haven’t been a good host to you so far.” Towering over him, Kain realized he was much taller than any man had any right to be. Yet, as he was kneeling, he could hear his much living breath. “But you must understand, otherwise you would have been a feast to my servants.” And, when his face was finally aligned with Kain’s, his voice fell to a whisper.
“That hunger may hurt, but it is necessary for you to understand.”
“Understand what?” Kain sneered, bile piling in his mouth, “I am not a dog for you to train.”
He thought, hoped, that he crossed the line and that Golbez would finally get rid of him. Burning through the last remain of courage within him, he stood his gaze as the black-covered man reached behind him.
He hardly processed the succession of sounds and sensations. Metal clicking and gravity sending him to the ground, where his legs could not carry him. He felt the cold metal wrapped over Golbez, then the dirt and stone. The sharp pain of wounds reopening kept him awake.
“I have a deal for you, one where you will receive as much as you give. If you wish to quench your hunger you will find me.”
His words echoed in Kain’s bleeding mind, or perhaps it was an echo he only heard from below. He saw the immense shadow uncover the stars above, leaving him alone, closing the door behind. He remained unable to think nor move. His vision darkened. He slowly faded to a painful unconsciousness, and traveled to memories from right before this hell.
He had his last meal with the other knights, days and nights ago. Some dried meat and fruits, with a broth made of what little vegetation they found on their way. They warmed their bread under the cooling embers as a dessert. For a travel meal, it was generous. No one questioned if there would be any left for the way home - none of them expected to return.
Too far in the darkness-corrupted land, too deep in the night, they didn’t allow themselves the usual songs and stories. Instead the soldiers laid down quietly. The cry of an owl, a few bugs chirping and a wolf howling in the distance were the sole reminder that the world existed still, behind them.
In the middle of the night, when even the wind had quieted, Kain was awakened alongside his comrades by the few soldiers guarding the camp. They pointed toward the hill beyond the field. As they all stared up the moon revealed moving, grotesque and inhuman silhouettes in the distance. They were advancing toward them. Worst of all, the other side of the hill was so dark it was impossible to tell how close they were.
As every soldier did, Kain immediately prepared his armor and weapon. He tried not to listen to the others’ whispers, growing and suffocating.
They shouldn’t be here already. This region has been safe for months. How were we found? How could there be so many? Why are they attacking so soon, when the red moon is yet to come?
Despite the shambles and terror, every soldier found their position. Kain only found peace when he felt them around him. They breathed together. Waited together. He didn’t have to think, just move, and fight, together.
The battle fell on them as fast as thunder. Another minute and the unity had turned into utter chaos, everyone fighting for their own life if not less. Blood, screams, distorted cry echoed throughout the land.
Kain fought, without a thought nor a word, his strength leaving him as sand escape a broken hourglass. Before long he would fall, unable to even raise his sword, joining the sea of corpses piling around him. As for the abominations, they seemed to ever grow in number and hunger. And he felt exhausted, and hopeless. First, his arms failed him, then his legs, then he was entirely engulfed around corpses and dirt.
To the violence succeeded a deafening calm. The fall and the many wounds Kain received numbed his mind, too much to think and move, not enough to cut him from all his sensations. The only sounds were that of the horrible creatures walking around their victory. From a friction, Kain understood they were rummaging through the corpses. He knew what they were looking for in mankind. His nerves tensed imagining the cruel fate his comrades were led to: a grande supper for the hungry monsters.
And as for him? Would he be eaten alive?
He didn’t have the strength to pity himself, not even to think of escaping. He mused the image of his impending death and found no sadness in it. He only hoped it would come soon, if not painlessly.
When the bodies around him were moved he didn’t open his eyes. He felt gigantic claws close around him and a warmth that wasn’t that of life against his back. Pretending to be dead wasn’t so hard, not one of his nerves or muscles would move. He remained, lifeless, on the back of the creature. He no longer wondered when he would be dropped down and consumed. He no longer did because, after long hours still carried the same way, he lost consciousness.
Kain was thrown on the ground. The impact and the pain it sent throughout his body forced his mind back to reality. His thoughts even cleared from the cold and hard floor under his chest.
He was not outside, and that was about all he could tell. He didn’t know how long it had been since the battle, only that it was enough for the first signal of hunger to ring through his organs. It was quickly quieted by the smell reaching his nose. The smell of death, human death, at various stages of decomposition.
He dared open an eye. Right in front of his face was the pale face of one of his fellow soldiers, her eyes lost and empty.
Kain dug his teeth in his tongue to stop the wave of nausea overwhelming him. He knew death, had even been close to it, not close to the point of sleeping surrounded by decaying corpses. He saw no miraculous sign of a soul living. No sign of the non-living things either, they seemed to have all exited the room.
As he was noticing their absence, Kain heard the sound of a door opening and of heavy footsteps on the stone floor. He closed his eyes and quieted his breath. Something was entering the room.
Four things, he counted. Not so much by the number of footsteps - it sounded utterly uneven - but by the clear distinction in their rhythm. From the sound they seemed bigger and quite more purposeful than that of any other monster he had crossed paths with.
This discovery was soon overwhelmed by another, even greater. They spoke.
“Is that all?” One voice growled, deep and grating, “He will be dissatisfied.”
Kain had never heard the creature speak. He hadn’t even ever heard them emit a sound that wasn’t a somewhat bestial grunt. It was hardly discussed that they had less than no intelligence, yet the voices he heard - for all unworldly they were- sounded quite reasoned.
Another answered, screeching like a rusty sword, “That was all they sent! Really, we brought them all!”
A third one, as fierce as airy, echoed throughout the room. “And it took so little to destroy them… A pathetic spectacle.”
Kain waited for the fourth voice, as he had counted four creatures entering. He was surprised to hear a warm tone, far less painful than the other ones.
“Is humanity at the end of its rope already? Are we about to vanquish them once and for all?”
“Not yet,” the rotting voice answered, “Lord Golbez warned us the time of darkness was yet to come. Let us obey and remain faithful.”
There was someone above the most intelligent of monsters. The name brought chills to Kain’s back, despite only hearing it for the first time, for how respectfully it had been pronounced. Golbez. Kain imagined what form of monstrosity could lead this army of death. If he had any hope left to lose - it would be gone then and there.
Although hope was long past him, pride remained. He swallowed down the fear and kept himself still. The fiery voice toned above him.
“Speaking of which… Barbariccia, where is the one still living?”
Kain didn’t have time to hold his breath and keep himself as cold as dead. Behind him, a gigantic and ominous presence fell. He heard a noise, like sharp winds on the stone, and his shoulder was dug in by many nails. It lifted him above the ground. Kain could only pray that none would notice he was very much conscious.
“There, he is not moving but he is alive.” Within, he sighed in relief. “Though I have been considering keeping him for myself. He smells so delicious.”
As this word echoed in his mind, Kain felt a cold breath on his skin. He shivered. He was utterly, horribly powerless in the hands of this monster. His body was no longer capable of fighting - if he even knew what to fight against.
He heard each of the three fuss in their own way. “You would defy our Lord’s order?!” one exclaimed. Another followed, “How could you mean to keep for yourself what is rightfully his?”
They seemed about to fight when the last one concluded.
“You would kill him though, and he needs the warm blood.”
The monster’s grip on his shoulder loosened. Kain could not enjoy the freedom though, as he was processing what little information he could make out of their words. It seemed as though they had little appreciation for one another and much for their so-called Lord. Could it be him? The cause of the sudden organization of the creatures of the night into a proper army? Was there truly someone intelligent, cruel, and powerful enough to subjugate them all?
And then, the last words sunk in.
Warm blood.
Whoever this monster was, they didn’t feed the way the others did.
Warm blood.
As Kain was taken in the arms of the creature holding him, as he was carried into the deathly night, his mind returned to familiar memories. He remembered the nights spent holding his friend as he quenched his thirst. He remembered the way he fell asleep by his side after. He also remembered the concerned gaze Rosa sent him and how glad he was to avoid them.
He remembered a home that he could only hope was still warm and lit while he was surrounded by cold darkness.
The trip was harsh and he lost consciousness a few times. Through his half-pretense of absence he still tried to tell his surroundings- to no avail. They seemed to be far beyond any known land. Those legendary frontiers where humanity ended and only violence remained. He tried to pull any sight apart but it was all too dark - it seemed even the star avoided to shine above this side of the world.
When he saw the sky greying, and hoped for dawn to reveal a glimpse of his surroundings, he was once more engulfed in the darkness of an old construction. All he could sense was that it was made of stone and that it was gigantic. Not through his eyes, rather through the rhythm returned by sounds echoed across infinite heights.
He was dropped in another corner of darkness. At this point, he was too dizzy and weak to make sense of his location. His wrists were enclosed in black metal chains. The last sound he heard was of said chains pulled against the stone.
The first sensation that returned to him once all else settled was that of hunger digging inside his stomach. He hadn’t been able to count days and nights.
To ignore the pain within, he opened his eyes. They travelled over grey and black wall, looking for something out of the ordinary. They eventually landed on a sight indeed unexpected. Right next to the opening, half hidden by shadows and close to the wall, was another man. A very human-looking man.
A small and fragile hope was born in Kain’s chest.
If he was not the only one here, the only one with blood and a heart at least, then not everything was lost. They could talk, find a way out, escape together - or at least die trying. No doubt it would be a better fate than what was in store for them.
Once he felt his tongue again, he tried to speak.
“For how long have you been here ?” He asked, and received no answer. The man was looking down and seemed away. Perhaps the time spent in this jail had some effect on his psyche. “I’m Kain, Kain Highwind of Baron.”
He hoped a name, and a place perhaps familiar, could bring back some memories of civilization. Indeed, the man reacted, looking directly at him. His answer, however, was not what he expected.
“I know.”
His voice was deep, reaching Kain’s mind before his ears. A sudden shiver took over him. He noticed that he was dressed nothing like a prisoner and had no chain on his body. He stood and walked toward the door, displaying his freedom.
“I will return later to see you.”
Of the most cruel and unfair people he had known in Baron, none had a voice so cold. Even the old captain who would send his trainee to bloodbaths without a tear felt more warm. That was the voice of someone who had nothing to do with humanity, Kain admitted, yet his sight and sounds were that of a living person.
Warm blood.
What little light came in through the stone projected onto the man’s hair. The last gaze he gave Kain was faintly glowing. As he was opening the door, words came out of Kain’s mouth.
“Are you that Golbez?”
A faint smile was his answer. Before Kain could make sense of what was in front of him, the door closed and he was left in the near dark with only his pain for company.
A deal-
Spinning and twisting, Kain’s mind formed thoughts once more. Confused ones though, he was still reminiscing all that led him to this place. It took him long to be certain that he wasn’t awaking from a long and dreadful nightmare.
You will receive-
In the first moments that followed, he couldn’t really feel the pain. The cool stone under his skin gently numbed all sensations - alongside the weight running throughout his whole body. But then it returned. Gradual and burning. The recent wounds of his bound wrists, the older ones digging in his chest, various concussions and the hunger. The violent and sickening hunger.
Quench your-
Golbez’s words never stopped ringing in his head. Even now they filled the room and guided him toward the unlocked door. Kain used the last of his strength to pull himself up and toward the exit, where a thin light broke through the darkness.
He still needed to hold onto the wall so as to not fall in the stairs. The stone was humid and the path steep. Despite the candles burning out their last flames on the wall, he couldn’t see far. But when he thought he was lost, that the traitorous light had only led him deeper in his despair, a forgotten sensation reached him. The distinctive smell of warm, welcoming supper.
At the end of the stairway an impossible vision greeted him. In a dark hall, all windows covered in black drapes, a few rusting candelabras exposed an absurd banquet on a rich - yet dusty - table. It was long, wide, bigger than what the knights used for their dinner, yet only surrounded by two chairs, both on one end. And in one of them, the man in black was sitting.
He wasn’t eating. Actually, not one of the plates seemed to have a bite missing. He was staring at a cup. When Kain fully entered a room he turned to face him, his eyes still indecipherable.
“Finally you are awake. Do come and take a seat.”
His proposition was brought by a gesture toward the sole other chair by the table. Which was close, way too close for Kain to feel at ease. Still, his body craved the comfort of sitting. And, of course, the food tempting him so close.
But as he sat down his mind returned to that of a soldier. His eyes wandered the table looking for two things: signs of poison on the food and cutleries. He would have used anything. A fork, a spoon, even a butter knife.
He found nothing beside the sustenance he craved and had been craving for days now.
“I apologize, but I won’t allow you to eat until I receive an answer to my proposition.”
Golbez’s voice was lower, almost casual, perhaps because Kain was so close. He could observe him properly for the first time. And, for the first time, he could take in how abnormally tall the man was.
Knowing he didn’t stand a chance against him, Kain decided to play along.
“I would give you one, if I knew what it enticed.”
He turned the cup around between his gloved fingers once more. The light reflected on the metal within and showed it was empty and perfectly clean.
“I saw the scars on your neck, have you given your blood to someone?” Kain kept on his inspection of the cup so he wouldn’t offer a reaction. Deep down, his heart raced learning how much this man knew about him. About Cecil, possibly. “What did you receive in return?”
Memories circled throughout Kain’s mind. He remembered the many nights he spent recovering from the blood loss, alone as none could have seen him without needing an explanation, and the many days after he pretended to be alright. And how, by each morning sun, Cecil would act as if nothing happened.
For him it never did, of course. And even if he did know, Kain would have never used that to ask for anything.
Even though he was never given a choice…
“If you so want my blood, you can simply take it. Why would you ask me?” He answered bluntly.
The pressure of Cecil’s hands as his fangs digged in his vein was easy to imagine replaced by the man before him.
“Because I have something to provide in return.” Kain’s eyes moved to the feast before him. He cursed his body that seemed to consider this a worthy agreement. He was then stopped by Golbez’s low chuckle. “Not this. This pales compared to what I want to offer you.”
He let the cup rest on the table. His left hand went to take off the right’s glove. Kain noticed that, while his nails were quite sharp, it was still not the hand of a fiend. He could only witness so much of it until said nails dug into the flesh below. Blood soon filled his palm and covered the fingers before dripping down into the cup. Red blood, thick, and in all ways like Kain’s. Drop by drop, he watched the cup’s bottom be filled.
And Golbez presenting it to him with his left hand.
“Here is for your end of the transaction.”
Kain stared at the half-filled cup. His mind, exhausted and beaten, couldn’t form a thought nor even a judgement. He only managed to ask, seething, “why would I drink this?”
“Don’t you want to live, Kain Highwind?” A cold fever rose within him from Golbez’s question. He fought the treacherous urge to answer yes, I do, right away. “With this blood comes power and, beyond that, a place in the world to become.” He said so as plainly as any truth. “Once our legions win, once the night welcomes its rightful rulers, you may remain as you are, for I know you will be faithful and worthy.”
It rang to Kain’s ears more like a prophecy than a choice. Yet Golbez’ hand remained extended while he watched the unbound prisoner think. He had a choice.
That of death or betrayal. This was more than the orders he received, now days and days in the past, to find his end on a distant battlefield. More than the overwhelming despair that had corrupted every stone of old Baron.
And then it returned. It took away his thoughts, his reasoning. The hunger was so intense he could not remember what he ever believed in. And he was so, so close to escaping it, and his exhaustion, and the powerlessness that had defined his body for long enough now.
He thought about Rosa, and Cecil, and about the earlier vision. It seemed they had no need of him. Perhaps they never did. They would be safe, and fine, unfairly fine. Cecil would have all the blood he craved, without even asking, so why couldn’t Kain have the same?
Just one time.
Just enough to stop hurting.
Just once.
He reached for the cup, his hands shaking horribly. He had to use both to pick it and bring it to his lips under the gloom-covered eyes of Golbez. The metal tasted cold and bitter. And the blood inside… It was still warm.
When it entered his mouth, when he had a first taste of it, Kain was overwhelmed by a surge of power, of emotions, of an energy both terrifying and captivating.
A glimpse of sorrow, soon lost to a powerful wave of wrath and madness. It pooled within his mind, fueling not-yet-coherent visions of the ugliest faces of humanity, displayed before his soul as truth-bearing moonlight. He didn’t yet question everything he believed in. He didn’t right away accept how wrong he must have been to fight against beings far greater than they had ever been. For now, it only quieted his doubts and regrets. When he dropped the empty cup on the table he did not question that he no longer thought first of fighting.
Golbez did not speak, but in the way he sat and watched over him, Kain knew he was now welcome to enjoy the feast before him.
He took a first bite of some bread. It tasted sour. His empty stomach still gladly welcomed it, alongside the cold meat and no quite ripe fruits. And the more he ate the less the food felt appealing. He could tell he had needed it but every swallow was an ordeal. His mouth rejected it and instead craved something else, almost drooling when he remembered its warmth and intensity.
Yet when Kain’s eyes strayed toward the cup it was still empty.
From the other side of the table, Golbez smiled at Kain’s lost gaze. He had done nothing but watch him. Kain felt once more the weight of those eyes, and how he still hadn’t been granted any freedom.
“Well now,” the taller man concluded from across the table, “I think you may return me the favor.”
He was no longer hungry, at least not in the way that had ravaged his guts for days. Instead he felt his body long for sleep. A proper, fulfilling sleep. He could figure out what exactly he wanted tomorrow.
However he knew he still needed to keep his end of the bargain.
Why? He had taken, but what was forcing him to follow along?
This man was involved in the atrocities he had been trying to prevent all this time, he had no reason to want his trust. He had no reason not to try to escape right now, now that he had some strength and was not surrounded by the worst of abominations. His observation all concluded the same: that man was more similar to him than to the monsters. He could escape.
He could, but he did not. Kain watched his own body obey dutifully, leaving his seat and walking toward Golbez. He went toward him like he had traveled across the country. Without meaning. Because he was told to.
And, in the back of his mind, he realized in horror that he still had no choice.
He pulled his hair behind his neck, presenting it just like he did months after months, upon the blood moon that he couldn’t see but feel through the ancient walls.
Golbez took hold of his body, one hand on his head and the other on his shoulder. Surprisingly, it was gentle and without strength. Far different from the tight grasp on his skin he was now used to and expected. No, Golbez was slow and intentional. He gave Kain a look and a smile, like he was still somewhat a person and not just a bleeding heart. He put his mouth on his skin where the other scars had formed. And it was warm.
Kain closed his eyes as he felt the blood leaving his body. He prepared to pull out every strength he had left not to faint but he was released before that. He looked up, questioning, as he realized that Golbez had only taken a few drops.
He turned around the table, leaving Kain lost and confused.
“This deal should bind us for a long time,” he explained, “It would be a waste to take more than I need right now.”
With one look he let Kain know he was expecting him to follow through the room. His chest tightened when they approached the stairway that led to his prison and released when they passed across it. Instead Golbez entered a corridor. There was not a single fire or opening that could bring light in. Kain had to walk behind, close, as the silhouette before him easily disappeared in the shadows.
It didn’t surprise him that Golbez could make his way in the darkness. He was more puzzled by the architectural logic of this place. What kind of lord built a castle with so little window?
Eventually, a few more stairs led them back up to another series of rooms that were now facing a row of windows. Through their dusty, stained glass a dyed moonlight came through. Kain didn’t feel any less oppressed to see the outside. He couldn’t tell any landscape but vague shadows of foreign mountains. The building and its surroundings seemed deeply unwilling to welcome a human.
Golbez stopped in front of a door. Under its frame, Kain noticed a warmer light pouring. He was soon welcomed to enter and discover a vaste, dusty, yet strangely kept bedroom filled by the tame light of a couple candles.
The sober decorations seemed to come out of a different time. He felt like he had entered the set of a representation that travelers sometimes gave at Baron’s court, before the war. They told the tales of old legends and Kain, as a child, was proud to say he was not scared of them.
He was not really scared now either.
He was too tired, and understood too little of what was surrounding him to make anything of it. He saw a bed, covered in grey yet precious sheets. It called for him.
When he turned around to ask for anything from Golbez, he was gone. The door was closed and Kain didn’t even hear footsteps leaving through the corridor.
He tried to open it. It worked. The wood creaked and he once again could see the red moon reaching for him through the windows. In a hurry, he closed the door once more and returned to the artificial light of the candles’ fire.
He thoroughly explored the room to discover, across a connecting door, a small bath filled with clear water and some clothes on the side.
What was he supposed to be now, a guest or a prisoner?
He found no trap, nor weapon, nor anything he could use in his attempt to escape. His body cried out - he wouldn’t go very far without a few hours of proper, painless sleep. He held out his hand to his head. He felt dizzy, almost sick. If he had to use the last of his luck he might as well do it at the right time.
Kain let himself have the bath, taking off layers of dust and blood out of his skin. It was not enough to thoroughly clean his hair but he at least could untie it and not feel disgusting. The clothes were simple and, once again, strangely reminiscent of a different time. It was still better than his tunic that had lost all form of shape.
He must have looked pathetic at the dinner table, he thought, before losing the strength to even feel ashamed.
He fell on the bed, leaving wet traces on it where he was still not dry.
Not a single part of his body didn’t yearn for rest and what little comfort he could find amongst tainted sheets. His wounds had no time to heal, his lips still felt dry, and he could still feel his stomach turn over. He could think about escaping and surviving later. Right now, all he wanted was an ounce of peace.
When he closed his eyes, the sight of Cecil and Rosa, bodies intertwined and hands closed returned. How warm must their sleep have been, against each other. How gentle must the night be together.
How far were they now, and should Kain even think of finding them?
Another sensation woke him up. It was not pain, nor cold, not even a nightmare- his sleep had been entirely dreamless.
Hunger .
It was hunger, but not located in his stomach. His entire body was aching for something, craving, to the point of madness. No matter how many times Kain closed his eyes they would open again, staring emptily on the roof, unable to find what he was looking for. They moved to the rest of the room and searched relentlessly for-
Golbez was standing across the bed, staring at Kain like he knew the exact moment his sleep ended.
Their eyes met. Kain no longer felt this cold shiver when facing him. What his mind had regained of sense and reason from that sleep was overwhelmed by the deep need burning in his throat. His gaze traveled over the other man, who hadn’t moved yet. He saw no gloves on his hands. In the dim light wrapping around him, the scar across the right hand was still visible. The drool that formed in Kain’s mouth was only the tip of his reaction to remembering the taste of that blood.
And, right then, he realized what he had truly accepted.
Escaping seemed meaningless. The castle of Baron was no longer a distant beacon of safety but a cold and unwelcoming place. What would he find there? More fighting? More loss?
Within the man before him lied the strength he had always longed for. The power to protect what he cared for the most. And the price was fair, wasn’t it? Blood for blood.
They didn’t need to exchange any word for Kain to express what he wanted and for Golbez to grant it to him. He walked closer to the bed while Kain sat on it. His left hand once more reached for his right, this time lower, right on the wrist. His nail dug in the flesh and released the first red drops on the pale sheets.
Kain reached for that bleeding vein. His hungry mind didn’t embarrass itself with embarrassment, it only thought of putting his mouth right on the wound, as close as he could to the source of his want.
It covered his teeth, his tongue, it filled his throat. It saturated his mind with a burning, all-swallowing wrath. Once more his memories distorted, familiar faces turning grotesque, what he had taken for beauty tinted a cruel hue. So little was safe. He remembered his father - unfair and violent and, ultimately, powerless before his inhuman enemies. He remembered other kingdoms falling and failing them, leaving them to their doom then begging for their protection. He remembered each commander that had sent his comrades to their death. These people were no more than cowardly murderers. And his comrades - pathetic fools.
So little was safe. He remembered, he remembered, he remembered his friends. Rosa’s laughter, Cecil’s smile. That of their innocent childhood. They didn’t know, back then, what would await them. She didn’t know how many lives she would fail to save. He didn’t know… Anything. He knew nothing of what he had done. Or perhaps he did, and was glad to ignore it all? Kain wasn’t sure if he would hate Cecil more for knowing and doing nothing or for his bliss ignorance. Only Rosa remained, pure and untainted by the spreading rot.
When no memories were left to corrupt, visions appeared that Kain barely recognized. He could only tell that it was violent. The smell of death was everywhere, cries and screams overlaying and, all over, absolute loneliness. It played before him until he managed to let go of Golbez’ wrists. He struggled to catch his breath and return to what his eyes could see.
Before him, brown skin was shimmering in the light, marked by a thin clean cut and holes of teeth around it.
And Kain understood, properly this time, that the world of darkness to come beyond humanity could not be close enough.
Golbez smiled as if he had recognized that he no longer needed to convince him. Indeed, they didn’t speak much more before Kain put his hair aside so the other could access his neck.
There was gentleness in the way Golbez leaned in to place his mouth. Comfort, even. When his teeth found their way under the skin, it felt familiar. Not by months, but by years or perhaps even by an eternity. It made sense. That was what Kain was meant to give, and meant to receive. He could even feel the other’s warmth, his heartbeat through his lips, and the way his hands trembled as a reaction.
Kain closed his eyes. His body still hurted all over and his mind could barely process all that happened. But, at long last, he didn’t feel weak and empty.