Chapter 139: Drinking in Solidarity

Stryg walked around the secret wine cellar, eyeing each bottle with interest. “Will you get in trouble for showing me any of this?”

“Not if you don’t say anything. I know the wine is not much, but I really am grateful,” Maeve said.

“Grateful?”

“You saved my life from that seregulus that day in Mellow Bloom. You were seriously injured and you almost died, because of me… I never thanked you for what you did. I’m so sorry.”

“Maeve…”

She bowed very low, “Thank you for saving my life, I hope to one day have the chance to repay my debt.”

Stryg scratched the tip of his nose and looked away, “There’s no need to thank me. I was bleeding out on the field and you patched me up. I would have died had it not been for you. Consider us even.”

Maeve raised her head slowly, “Really?”

“Yeah. But, I wonder, why would you patch me up, bring me to this cellar, or talk to me at all, if you see me as an eyesore,” Stryg stared into her eyes.

She broke away from his gaze, “I… You wouldn’t understand.”

“There are a lot of things I don’t understand, but I’m a quick study.”

Maeve sighed and pulled out a bottle from one of the cupboards. She grabbed two silver chalices from a nearby glass casket and poured them both drinks.

“Do you really want to know?” Maeve handed him one of the cups.

“What else do I have to do down here but drink and listen?” Stryg sipped the wine.

Maeve swished the chalice in her hand and stared into her murky reflection. “My father isn’t just a history buff. He follows many of the old traditions of an ancient vampire clan from the Northern Lands. The clan is long dead, but he still adheres to their beliefs.”

“What beliefs?”

Maeve took a deep breath, “Vampire supremacy. He believes that since vampires tend to have greater physical capabilities than some of the other chromatic species, that vampires are somehow better than the rest, then vampires deserve to rule. Of the three native Ebon species, he thinks vampires are the only ones truly worthy of leading the Ebon Realm.”

“So, he doesn’t care too much for goblins or dark elves, then?”

“Yup, but oh, will he hide his feelings on the matter if it suits him, like in business trades. He messed up when it came to you though, he didn’t realize your master was Loh Noir, nor how she would behave. Neither did I, but my gods, did it feel good to see Loh embarrass him at the docks like that.”

“Yeah, I guess it did. But from the way you talk it seems you don’t agree with his traditions?”

“Of course not. My father is a horrible old man with stupid beliefs, clinging to a glorious past that never existed. Vampires were never the apex species of the Realm, nor do they deserve to rule more than anyone else.”

Stryg finished his wine and served himself more, “I understand why your father would hate goblins, but what about you? I’m having a difficult time reconciling the Maeve I see in front of me with the one from yesterday at the docks.”

She sighed, “My father doesn’t just hate goblins and dark elves. He sees the non-native species, such as orcs and dwarves, as an affront to his own existence as a vampire. Hybrids are worse, since they represent people of different species getting along.”

Maeve drank down her wine, “My best friend is Nora Azol, you know her of course. She’s a human, but I never cared about anything like that. We’ve been friends since we were children and that’s all that mattered. But, my father hated the fact that I was friends with a human. He found it embarrassing and a shame to his honor.”

Maeve took a shaky breath, “...He beat me for it. Broke several of my bones. I eventually stopped hanging out with Nora, but he didn’t stop beating me. My father has tried to hide my scars by ordering his white magi to heal me, but I still have scars, I just hide them well.”

Maeve twisted her arm behind her and dusted away the makeup on her shoulder blade, revealing a faint silvery scar.

Stryg traced his finger over the old wound, “He cut you?”

“Sometimes. He would beat me with whatever he could find at hand. He thought the pain would teach me, make me a better daughter. I was never good enough for him, no matter what I did. But, I learned that he would beat me less if I acted like him. You see, he expected me to adhere to his stupid beliefs. He even placed spies to work as my maids to always make sure that I did.”

“Then at the docks yesterday?”

Maeve nodded reluctantly, “I never stopped hanging out with Nora. We just got better at hiding it. But, in the public eye, I acted like my father’s perfect daughter. A vampire who hates commoners, hybrids, and anyone who is not a vampire themselves. It was the only way to avoid the beatings.”

“...I see. Then at the restaurant when we first met,” Stryg took a step back.

“I was having dinner with a few classmates, daughters of wealthy merchants who work with my father. When I saw Callum that night, I got up to leave, but one of the girls recognized him and pointed my cousin out. I had to go over and say hello. When I noticed you and that dwarf girl were there I had no choice but to act in a… displeasing manner. Otherwise, the little posse of vampires would have told their merchant parents and it would have eventually gotten back to my father.”

“So, instead you humiliated Kithina and dumped wine on me,” Stryg said quietly.

Maeve bit her lip, “I know what I’ve done is wrong. You don’t think I regret it? I haven’t had a single good night of sleep in years. I may not have my father’s beliefs, but I have acted the same as he would have… I’ve hurt people, I am just as guilty.”

Maeve’s eyes welled up with tears.

“I am just like him, a monster,” her voice cracked.

She rubbed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“I just want it all to end,” she muttered softly.

Stryg perused through the shelves, “What’s the strongest thing you’ve got here?”

“...What?”

“I’m trying to get drunk for once and none of this stuff is doing it for me,” he said.

“Why do you wanna get drunk? Is my past too uncomfortable?” She chuckled bitterly.

“I was trying to get drunk with you, actually. My people call it solidarity. Judging on your size and the number of cups you had, you’ll probably be drunk soon enough.”

“You should be drunker than me, you’re smaller,” Maeve sniffed.

“Yes, but my constitution is far greater. I need something a lot stronger than this wine to get drunk.”

Maeve wasn’t sure what to say, so instead, she pointed to a cabinet at the bottom shelf, “The strongest dwarven brews are in there. Careful, a single cup can make people woozy.”

“Perfect, I like the dwarven brews,” Stryg pulled out a bottle. He uncorked the cap with his claw and brought the bottle to his lips.

“Wait, what are you doing?” Maeve ran to stop him, but he downed the entire bottle before she could grab the bottle.

He hiccuped once and patted his chest, “Better.”

“What have you done? Do you have any idea how much alcohol you just drank? You need to throw up, now. You’ll get alcohol poisoning if you don’t,” Maeve said in a panicked voice.

“You aren’t a monster like your father, Maeve. The fact that you regret what you did is proof of that.”

“...What?” Maeve furrowed her brow.

“Sometimes we have to do things we are not proud of in order to survive. Maybe it’s wrong, but I rather live and be wrong than be right and dead.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

“Vulture Woods is a very dangerous place. There isn’t much food and dangerous predators lurk everywhere. Only the most skilled goblins with expert teamwork can survive the harsh conditions. But goblins get old and they become less effective, they can’t do their jobs and they become a liability... There isn’t enough food to go around. Most tribes can’t support the old folk and the younglings as well.”

“No…” Maeve covered her mouth in dawning realization.

“It was a difficult decision. One we had to make. Most of the time the older goblins understand and choose to leave willingly. But, that doesn’t make it any better. Everyone knows that when those goblins walk out into the woods alone, we are sending them to their deaths. We send our own loyal tribesman to die. It’s wrong, but we do it to survive.”

Maeve swallowed, “That’s…”

“Shitty circumstances. Either we send them out or our people would starve. Someone has to die either way. Our leaders had to make the difficult choice in order to keep the tribe alive. No one is proud of it. We shouldn’t be. But, I’m still happy to be alive.”

Stryg put the bottle down and looked at her, “I don’t know what the right answer is, Maeve. But, I’m glad you survived your father’s wrath.”

She smiled weakly, “A fitting response from a Sylvan goblin.”

“How would you know?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I guess I don’t,” she shrugged. “Is it true that your people eat others?”

“Like I said, there wasn’t enough food. Sometimes it was necessary, but we only ever ate the enemies of our tribe.”

“That doesn’t make it better.”

“I don’t know why everyone finds it so strange. We’re all animals and we eat other animals all the time.”

“Even if that were true, we don’t eat other sapient animals.”

“Don’t you vampires drink people’s blood? I could have sworn I saw some of those human women drop dead in the ballroom.”

Maeve shuffled awkwardly, “I admit it happens sometimes. Some vampires end up drinking too much. But, it’s not the same as… huh.” She blinked, “Well, fuck me.”

“If it makes you feel any better I was never very fond of eating goblin flesh,” Stryg grabbed another bottle.

“It doesn’t.”

He filled her cup and his own, then raised his cup in a toast, “To surviving.”

She raised her own cup, “To different ways of life.”

They clinked their cups in a metallic ring, then drank down the dwarven brew in one go. Maeve winced, she could still taste the faint flavor of wild blackberries over the burning sensation. It reminded her of her mother.

“My mom and I used to collect berries in our garden,” Maeve whispered quietly.

Stryg’s sensitive ears picked up her voice with no problem.

“My mom was always sick and most of the time she was bedridden. I was the youngest of my siblings and I didn’t understand why, not really. I just thought it was unfair that I couldn’t play with her more. So, my mom would always make time for me, even when it was difficult for her. She was amazing like that.”

“She sounds like a strong person,” Stryg nodded.

“She was, even when her body was failing her, she fought on till the very end.”

“You said you were the youngest?”

“Yes,” she nodded.

“Do you have any younger cousins or something in the castle?”

“Besides Callum? No. I don’t have any paternal cousins either. My father was an only child. Why?”

“I was curious, is all. I saw this little girl stalking my door last night. She looked a lot like you, but smaller.”

“Wha?” Her vision was getting blurred, she definitely had too much to drink.

“She was wearing this white dress with this flower pattern and a green bracelet made of some kind of vine or stems I think?”

Maeve rested her shoulder on the wall to steady herself. It couldn’t be. Stryg’s description. It was the same. It was the clothes she wore every night in her dreams.

“Are you alright?”

“...I’m fine,” she forced a smile. “So, what about your parents? What were they like?”