Chapter 2

A few minutes later, I arrived in the cave I once called home for far too long. Unfortunately, the air of the night sky has not yet penetrated its way into the ground below. My senses are assaulted with the stench of battle and the remains of the blobs of goo I had held back. Peering around the room, I see my ragged belongings to my left and a few large bags of various coins and jewels to my front. A short gust of wind from behind me grants a brief respite against the smell. It blows towards the right further into the maze of tunnels.

I plod towards my bed. Along the way, I poke some goo with my weapon. Dead as a doornail, if not a bit mushier than one. A sigh of relief escapes, temporarily forgetting the mild chance of asphyxiation. Arriving at my bed a few steps later, I collapse face-first into the comfort of the straw-stuffed mattress. My sword thuds against the dirt ground as another wave of exhaustion comes across my body and eyes. A final glance across the room again to make sure there are no more threats; none remained.

I do not remember when my eyes closed nor when I fell asleep. In fact, I do not remember having any dreams that night.

Solus does not discriminate on where she shines. Her rays reach far and wide to every surface, letting the beings of Europa - fortunate enough to reach past everyone else - bask in her warmth. Regrettably, Solus has decided to reach around the cave entrance and graze my sleeping self.

My eyes slowly welcome the familiar sight of a dirt ceiling. What a bother, I think as I sat upward. Looking outside, it should be early morning. I don’t usually stay awake during the morning, but my rest was good enough to at least clear this place of my presence. I want to leave this island as soon as possible.

Something shiny struck my attention as I looked around. I got up and looked at its direction. The goo had mostly dispersed into the dirt, but a coin remains suspended in what little remains. Upon closer inspection, it was a Spaelorian silver coin. Spaelor… The nation’s name echoed through my mind as I cleaned up the remains of the previous night’s battle.

Before the four that departed earlier, there was another group of adventurers that came about a month before. Unlike the recent four, this group of five was aggressive and attacked me immediately. Out for blood, it seemed. I thought that I was defending myself well, but my attention faltered for just a few moments and the strong magic I was concentrating on lost its strength. The grotesque amalgamation of goo leaked from the ceiling and attacked both me and the adventurers with reckless abandon. I tried to divert its attention away while trying to convince the party to stop attacking me. None of it worked and the ooze managed to engulf three of them. Seeing their failure, the last two abandoned their friends and ran back towards the tunnels. I managed to weaken the monstrosity enough to force it back into the earth above, start the magic again, and seal it away.

My success, if I can call it that, was not without heavy loss. I lost a lot of energy and blood… My legs were gone below the knees, my right arm dissolved by the ooze, a large gash ran down the entirety of my left side. I managed to stop the bleeding through some magic, but I felt him. I felt a sense of doom looming over my pathetic self as I continued to use my strength to hold the ooze back.

The pool of blood I had laid in has mostly dried up by now as I shift dirt around to spread it out. I cannot believe I let some rowdy wanna-be do-gooders reduce me to this state, I thought while focused on my current task at hand.

My breathing had returned mostly to normal while I remained concentrating on the magic, but almost nothing else. Even the energy required to return my sword back into my body was too much to ask for. Without much else to do, I returned to trying to find an answer to the question: How do I kill this godsforsaken ooze? Initial attempts were futile as it was able to dismiss both my physical attacks and my meager magic. I had tasked myself to trap this… thing on this island named Rubiconium at the cost of my own freedom. I figured that this desolate place was far enough from any civilization to give me plenty of time to think of how to kill it. Luring the ooze here was easy enough and the spell scroll at my side gave me the confidence that I can keep it at bay. I had set up a small camp at the end of this maze of tunnels I found; a few traps were spread throughout to keep any suspecting onlookers away. The ooze was forced into the soil and sealed in with the knowledge in the scroll. A decent set up and a good puzzle to solve, I thought.

I racked my brain anew while waiting for my condition to improve. A few minutes turned into an hour, a few hours into a day… and days into a week. A realization started to sink in: I wasn’t healing, but rather not at all.

Why…?

Why am I not recovering…?

Aside from the bleeding I stopped initially, my injuries have not improved whatsoever. On the contrary, it was taking increasingly more effort to maintain the magic and even a steady breath.

True fear is not a common emotion. One only feels this when what they hold most dear is threatened. I had experienced this only once before, about a few hundred years ago. A shiver went down my spine as I recognized this feeling again.

…

I was dying.

Its presence was not my imagination, death was coming and I was absolutely powerless to stop it.

“Help…” I croaked. Of course, nothing could hear me. Not even the stars could notice my pleading.

At present, I turn my attention to the entry of the tunnels. The opening is not too large, about ten feet tall and ten feet wide. Should be easy enough to hide this again, I thought before vividly recalling my past self yearning for something, anything, to come through the tunnel and give me hope. The question that had previously occupied my mind was replaced with alternating prayer and insanity.

“Anyone, help… Please…” No answer.

It turned out to be about two weeks before I heard shuffling through the maze of tunnels. This must be madness sinking in… But I heard conversation coming louder and louder until a quartet of ragged individuals stood warily a few yards before me. My eyes fluttered at this development before I begged once again,

“Help…”

Understandably, they didn’t come any closer; the sight before these adventurers’ eyes was completely foreign to them. A mostly dismembered body laying on the bloody dirt, pale skin and gray hair matted with grime, wearing a tunic caked with cold sweat. Slowly, I propped my torso up with my remaining arm. Their whispers were quickly hushed. I weakly smiled, just baring my fangs at the party.

“I… Need… Blood.”

A few hurried steps back told me that this group was not aggressive, nay, they were quite prudent in retrospect. They seemed to discuss the potential consequences of helping the one that lay before them. After some deliberation, the older woman stepped forward. Any layman with a sound mind would know that this was a stupid decision, but she did anyway.

“My name is Dalila Heliot,” her voice rattling through the mostly empty cave, almost like your typical cranky apothecarist. Human, she seemed. “Let me help you.” I found out later the ones flanking the druid were named: Galumir Barrelheart, the dwarven tank of the party, Halret Marblebrush, the aspiring halfling hero, and Ashryn Yinjor, the elven cleric.

Dalila gingerly walked within earshot of my weak voice, where I managed to explain my situation. “I’m holding back… a monster, but I'm too weak to do it for much longer… I was attacked a bit ago…. Please, just a little… I’m dying.”

The pleading must have reached her senses as she quickly agreed to help at the cost of her well-being. My vitality surged instantly as I bit down. A groan escaped as color returned to the pale face I didn't even realize I had, while the slash down my left began to finally close.

That was addicting.

Feeling the caress of death move away right before my very eyes is a feeling I will not forget. And in the moment, I could do nothing but relish in the warmth of life that I was so starved of. The cries of my victim’s allies could not reach my senses, nor did I want to stop.

There was no resistance from the fountain that was Dalila, so there was no warning when Ashryn, as caring as she apparently was, pulled her limp body out from my clutches. “Hey, what gives? Damn savage, tricking us, you’ve nearly killed her!”

Primal instincts kicked in as anger propelled my body forward, fighting for what was suddenly taken from me. Fortunately for the group, most of one humanoid’s ichor was not enough to have regained all of my strength or limbs. The attack was easily evaded as my body returned to the dirt. I batted my eyes. My senses slowly returned as I realized what I had just attempted.

Unfortunately, the lapse of concentration was a severe error. Red dripping from the corners of my mouth, I briefly explained the source of my injuries. “... Furthermore, I am here to put an end to a monster. An endless, unsatiated lust for more victims fueling a single inhumane being… And I haven’t been able to stop it myself.”

There were only a few seconds to gauge the reactions from the group before I realized my magic had completely died a few minutes ago. It was too late to react to the surprised looks as a crimson mass had cascaded from the pores in the dirt ceiling, enveloping me in a viscous, acidic jail.

Once again, instincts took over as my lungs attempted to fill themselves with air; instead, toxins were forced into my body, quickly eating at me from the inside-out. Newly healed skin was dissolved into the monster while I futilely attempted to escape. Movement became impossible as I succumbed to an all-encompassing burning pain. As my eyes lowered, they saw the adventurers unsheathe their weapons.

A pointless exercise… So this is how it ends…

I cannot recall how long the ensuing battle took. I only remember being jolted awake as one of the fools targeted the ooze with lightning magic. My gaze turned towards the origin of the strike. Beaten, battered, but still standing. Even retrospectively, their persistence bewilders me.

Suspended within the body of the ooze, I braced myself. If these brave adventurers were putting up a fight, there were no excuses for me. It took my entire strength to shift inch-by-inch to a possibly better position. But try as I could, I could not manage to summon my sword.

Right before the strike connected, I saw a brilliant flash of light in front of my eyes. Halret’s sword burned through the ooze and momentarily created a small gap of air… an opportunity. At this moment, I drew my blade and slashed sideways at the ooze, rupturing its outer membrane from within. An eruption of goo as I collapsed outside of it, coughing for the dusty air. Instinctively, my head turned to the threat, where there was not just the one ooze I imprisoned previously, but rather two slightly smaller ones engaging the adventurers.

From the gash I made, the larger of the two monsters began to extrude what could only be identified as a head… a grotesque caricature of my head as if mocking me.

“You are much stronger than the previous group. It’s a shame that this… crippled parasite cannot do much to help you,” it shrieked. “Sorry, but our date is over.”

An incantation began from the head, mystical words weaving what I had assumed was a powerful spell. I desperately hurled my sword at the source but simply slipped through the head. My eyes met its own for a second before the room suddenly shifted to a new reality.

The ground suddenly became a moss-covered inch of still water, muddy paths poking out like worm trails behind a tavern’s garbage. Low-hanging trees and algae blocked Solus’s blessings. A groggy air clung to our sweaty skin. What was my cave had turned into their own habitat.

“Welcome… to your grave…” The pair of monstrosities began to swell as they took in moisture from the ground and air, quickly healing up what used to be the gash I made in its membrane, but the sear it took seemed to recover just a bit slower. “Impressive, is it not?”, it gloated as if in the middle of a coliseum. “The pitiful leech here cannot even stand straight, much less restore her vitality! Pathetic! Compared to my now unending strength, you lot are nothing!”

I clenched my teeth and summoned my sword; it wobbled across the mud from where it laid, tumbled through the air, and landed firmly in my grasp. Propping myself up on my sword with my remaining arm, I wearlily stood up. A call came through my labored breathing to my allies: “We must chop them down at the same time and use that blade,” gesturing to Halret’s weapon, “to make sure they don’t come back.”

The sequence of actions that came next blurred into a single mass of chaos and blood that I cannot recall exactly at present. Perhaps it was a lack of energy that powered me to act on impulse alone, like a feral beast protecting its home. Or maybe I suffered a harsh blow to the head some time during the brawl. What little of the memories that remain hold the feeling of just matching the efforts from the already ragged travelers, slogging at the pair of oozes with sword and sorcery, while most of the damage inflicted was recovered instantly. We had nearly exhausted ourselves trying to seemingly deal any significant amount of damage to the ooze.

All of a sudden, the scene shifted away from the swamp and back to the familiar dirty cave.

Standing now where I had reappeared, a quick look around the area showed no more evidence of my lodging, all having now been moved into my portable hole. Shifting the dirt around hid the small amount of blood and ooze that remained. The hole requires folding up to transport; while neatly doing so, my attention wandered back in time.

As the false reality disappeared, the oozes suddenly started to droop as if its skin was losing integrity. The adventurers sprung forth with a new energy, hoping to end it all. A blast of fire and sharp thorns erupted from the ground while the brawlers ran forward, brandishing goo-stained weapons. It all seemed like a ray of light poking through a stormy sky.

Once again, actions were faster than reasoning, as my body moved to meet the enemies in a similar manner. The scorched oozes, seemingly out of strength without their swamp, provided only a small amount of resistance as my attack met the smaller of the two’s flesh. At the same time, its partner suffered blows from the duo and began to collapse.

“Here!”

In response, Halret whipped over and cleaved at the one in front of me. Steaming goo gushed out as ooze groaned without a final word.

We held guard in the case of it being another act, but our victory became certain as the remains began to soak into the dirt. I collapsed first, my body having been pushed long past its breaking point.

Deep, slow breaths filled the room as we caught our breaths. It seemed to be a few long minutes before one of us spoke up. “Thank you,” as my subconscious spoke, much to my surprise. There was a clank of metal as one of the adventurers slowly shifted around to face me.

“You never introduced yourself… Name’s Galumir,” the dwarf mumbled while seemingly analyzing me again.

“Eir-” before a searing pain within my chest stopped my response. _Must be the acid. _Quickly kneeling back down, I restarted with a groan. “Well, Eirlys is what most would call me… But it would be a disservice to my… allies. Grayce.”

“Are you a-”

“Yes,”

“You’re not like the ones I’ve heard about, that’s for sure.” A quip from the halfling, who had turned towards me as well.

“My apologies.”

“It’s a bit late by now, but pleased to meet your acquaintance,” he nodded. “I’m Halret.”

“Oh, aren’t you as chipper as ever,” replied Dalila, who did not need a reintroduction. In a quieter tone to the elf aside her, “I will be fine. Just a little rest.”

After making sure that the older woman was comfortable against the dirt wall, the elf marched over, fists curled, to where I had been recovering, apparently a bit angry. In no uncertain terms, she wanted to swing at me. But when she had reached all but three paces away, she turned around.

“By the gods, what were we thinking?” Words cut through the still air. “We nearly died! And for what? To save this so-called vampire from her own damn problem? Us four should have ran right back through the labyrinth and- and…” She slumped down. A pause, then a glance backwards. A few tears ran down her cheeks.

After a few more minutes of rest and recuperation, Ashryn apologized and introduced herself. I then provided a better explanation on my past situation and why I was held up in a dirt cave in a deserted island in the middle of the Gulf of Surster; after all, they helped extinguish my problem. It was clearly enough to satisfy their questions as they, minus the first volunteer, offered to provide more blood to help restore my own regeneration abilities. Taking extra care to not fall into another dangerous lull, I accepted.

The adventurers, who identified themselves as a group from the northern mainland, outlined their own reasons for exploring Rubiconim. Their quest-givers, who were a religious group located in the western nation of Spaelor that taught the god of the afterlife Athar’s blessings, promised them much glory and riches if they were to locate a weapon of legend that had been tracked down to this island. A major conflict, if not an outright war, was and still is being fought between the eastern and western nations of Fuscor and Spaelor respectively. I was not privy to the exact details, but the four explained the conflict was reaching an apex, against Spaelor’s favor. This mythical weapon could turn the tide back to the western nation.

A previous party was sent to identify and retrieve this weapon. Clearly, they were referring to the party I encountered before, now dead. At this point in time, the current party was still referring to the weapon exactly as such, “The Weapon”. Clarification was needed.

“Uhh… We don’t actually know the appearance, abilities, or really anything of this weapon,” Galumir sheepishly explained. “There are a few versions of the stories that mention the weapon. Some tell of a power once held by a magical force. Others say it’s actually a magical sword that provides its wielder the ability to command one’s enemies.”

Dalila further describes some stories she had heard, ending with, “Oh yes, I also remember a barkeep friend of mine saying that the weapon is a monster that can level an entire battlefield! Can you believe that!”

“Level an entire battlefield? You’re saying that we could have been murdered by this mystical power and you did not warn us?” exclaimed Halret, who was cleaning off his armor but then paying attention.

“Slipped my mind, I suppose.”

A few seconds of silence before Halret speaks again. “Wait…” It had seemed like he was mentally calculating something. His lips moved slightly, muttering under his breath.

“By the gods…”

The halfling jolted upward with a start. “It’s you! You’re gods-damned golden treasure that we’ve been looking for!”

The other three had shot their heads towards their ally, then moved their glances towards me first in confusion, then bewilderment.

My response: “Well, once you add everything together, it would seem as if that is the case. Not like there’s anything else here.” Speechless, the adventurers continued to listen. “By the looks on your faces, no, I only realized that I am your proverbial grail of a weapon a few minutes ago.

“Really, I am flattered by all of the stories you lot have been telling. A lot of fairy tales are based in truth, I will have you know. It’s just that mortals often miss important details and exaggerate others. Although, it has been a long time since I flattened an army.”

“Ah… By Europa’s luck. And we’ve nursed our target back to health,” Ashryn retorted. Their donations, at that point, have allowed me to regain my regeneration abilities, evident by the elf’s gesture at my new arm. “How are we supposed to drag a vampire back to the Church when they can kill us at a moment’s notice or just do your transforming ‘thing’ and run away?”

“I agree. Being captured and enslaved does not suit my fancy.”

“Well, we can’t just go back empty-handed,” said Galumir. “But I’m also not interested in finding out how we fare in a fight,” as he motioned between me and himself.

After the few of us perused our options, it quickly became clear that the only one remaining was to let them take back something that proved the adventurers had encountered me and lived to tell the tale. I had a few sacks of various treasures and jewels; the four of them were more than happy to take a small portion and to carry a word from me that I would visit their Church.

“Uh… Your Highness,” Halret started, “with all due respect, does that mean you will be fighting alongside the Spaelorian army? And help us win the war?”

Surprisingly, the rest of his friends shot him another glare.

I smiled. “I shall make no such promises, but let them know that I will… consider it.”

Rested and pockets lined with a small fortune, the party headed back to the surface of the small island. I took down a camouflaged barricade that I made through the eastern wall of the cave, which led straight to the chilly night sky. That allowed them to bypass the various monsters and traps that they had encountered a few hours earlier, while getting a shortcut back to the coast.

I followed them back to where their ship was moored, keeping my distance so as to not arouse any suspicion from any unexpected visitors. Grass turning into sand, the party looked behind them, almost worryingly; I gave a nod in response while shifting my weight from my sword.

The ship had its anchor raised and secured in a slow and deliberate manner. It was then directed back north by two of the pseudo-sailors while floating just above the tide. At this point, I had rested my sword in the sand and perched in a nearby tree, watching the small keelboat sail through the calm waters.

Having packed up all of my belongings into a small satchel and cleaning any evidence of my stay, I was ready to leave the cave. It was now about midday and rays of sunshine beat down through my exit. I don my dirty cloak and head outside, taking a sharp right into a group of trees and their shade. I unravel the spell scroll in my hand. It activates and I begin to quickly fill back in the cave with my temporary magical abilities. After some time, no trace of my being could be seen even from Solus’s point of view.

A quick glance around to double-check my surroundings. All clear.

As I begin to shift into a small bat, I think. Hmm… My appearance is quite sad. If I really want to visit this Church of Athar, I suppose they won’t take me seriously if I showed up like this. Might as well survey the whole situation a bit myself too.

I decide to head back north towards the fighting nations, through the annoying rays of sunshine.