“Great,” I said through a sigh as I slumped back onto my pillows after thoroughly inspecting the book.

Dim azure light cast over my room in spite of me not needing it, illuminating the dresser, bookshelf and desk with a small mirror on it that I had yet to use. The book had taken a slight tumble out of my hands and fallen onto the white sheets freshly changed while I took my lessons. The service here was impeccable if nothing else. The air of my room smelled less of rot and more of earthy black stone which I enjoyed a lot since I was starting to get sick of the dry rot that permeated through the crypt slightly stale air.

The book for the most part looked to have been more of tattered notes written by a raving mad man, so spontaneous and nonlinear that it fit my understanding of Qixi to a tea. That said, it was not at all that hard to glean information out of it.

The first of the ale stained pages went over the basics that Qixi had already relayed in a little more detail, Basically stating that enhancement was quite literally just utilising your Ichor to reinforce a certain aspect of something while manipulation was taking control of things out of your ownership. One made better what you already had, the other gave you new tools to use. What exactly went for a deed of ownership in the world of mages wasn't discussed but I guessed at the very least it would extend to one's body and maybe what they were holding.

What Qixi had failed to mention and one of the reasons I felt my chances waning was the requirements for both.

“In terms of magical requirements, enhancement is the less stringent option. All I need is to condense and purify my Ichor and the book goes over the procedure enough that I should be able to replicate it…” I muttered to myself, flicking through the pages till I landed on the one I was looking for, detailing how to raise the purity of one's excess Ichor.

First one had to force their Ichor close together as I had earlier when I repaired the metaphorical rock Qixi had thrown in its stream. The part that might pose a challenge was that you were meant to separate the stream into two distinct layers and have them clash against each other, forcing the Ichor in between to condense and congeal until it became purer. In the books on words, this Purification technique was very rudimentary and factored in the reader's inability to control their excess Ichor properly.

“...But it can only enhance what’s already there. The minuscule amount of purification might give me an edge if I had some competence when it comes to combat, but I’m a fish out of water. The best it will do is enhance my speed and defensive capacities. Not even mentioning the issue of my Arcana.”

Originally I had presumed that Qixi had completed the development cycle of this Arcana he mentioned for me, thus allowing me to perceive and control the Ichor around me. As this book detailed, however, if Qixi were capable of such a feat, he’d be one of the most powerful creatures alive. No, it was the innate capacity that vampires were blessed with, our blood, that fully completed the Arcana regardless of how far it was along as a human.

This meant that all the Fangless, including my coven, could use magic the moment someone made them aware of their Ichor, something that would happen with either time or if prompted by foreign Ichor.

Currently, the biggest problem with my Arcana was its youth, relative weakness and the fact that it was extremely clumsy. My control of Ichor couldn’t even be called control. All I did was very broad motions of either pushing or pulling with my Arcana. Another massive issue was the periods of ache and resistance I felt from my Arcana every time I used it, like a muscle that was worn with barely any use.

“Even then, the problems with my Arcana aren’t exclusive to enhancement. Manipulation requires precise control over Ichor just to begin with, god knows how I’m going to achieve that.”

Manipulation was the more alluring option for me, mainly because it was far more suited for the immediate purposes I had. Plus the idea of using magic as I had read when little, flinging fireballs and summoning storms, excited me to no end.

Yet it had one glaring major problem.

“Six months, at a minimum! It’s outrageous! I don’t even have weeks, barely full days and it’s a necessity of six month’s for a damned focal point!” I shouted in a bout of letting out my inner turmoil.

The first steep requirement of Manipulation that slapped me in the face was this “Focal point”. Before one even wanted to cast a spell, first they would have to delve to unroot the so-called “Arcanes” that were intrinsic and personal to every person. The way the book described them was as if reality were a painting and Arcanes were the stroke lines, images, depth, colour. All that made it up had an Arcane.

And in that sense, magic was akin to painting over reality with your own desire; creating a perspective and bending the native existence to it.

“Gathering Arcanes isn’t described as a very long or advanced process but without the ability to form a focal point for them to elapse from, it’s essentially useless. A spell can’t manifest from purely shaping my Ichor into Arcane’s. Arhh! Why does this have to all be so complicated!”

The formation of spells required not only that you form the necessary Arcanes together but that you created a connection between that Ichor and pre-existing reality. There were… many, many ways to form a focal point. The most common and least time consuming being annunciation, or what was considered chanting.

What made the decision between specialization in one field important was the fact that Arcanes all require a set amount of Ichor, regardless of purity to be formed. To be the best Enhancer possible you required the highest quality of Ichor but to be the best Manipulator you needed quantity.

“So it’s either slave away hoping my physical prowess and skill increase to a passable degree or work towards a miracle that maybe I’ll have some kind of eureka moment learning how to chant.”

Honestly, my chances of living past this were bleak, even more so because I leaned towards aiming to become a Manipulator focused mage. Something about it just felt right to me, more so than Enhancement. But I wanted to see my family again. I needed to give them some sort of penance for sheltering and caring for such a useless child. The world was still so unexplored for me, countless things I desired to indulge in. Finding love, having a purpose, I craved so deeply for my chance to not be ripped away.

But more than anything, the one burning reason that made me scavenge through the book over and over for answers was the fear.

I was scared of dying. So, so terrified that the inky abyss might swallow me whole.

*********

“You’re getting better, you know.” Delphine praised, offering a hand as I huffed out cold air from overworked lungs.

“Thanks, you’re a good teacher,” I replied inwardly, disagreeing with her words. She was trying her best to help me and there was no way I wanted to spit on the good faith any of my coven gave me, even if I didn’t understand it.

We were exchanging blows like normal behind one four centre luminescent pillars that held up the high roofs of the training hall. Delphine wore a tunic with pants like usual in the mornings, supposedly because as she claimed “a lady’s dignity can’t stop a sharp edge”. I found it bizzare how similar of a thing my actual sister would say.

As for her comment, I had to admit I’d gotten a little better. Not nearly enough though to compete with the blonde-haired Sanguine who had made his rounds duelling a different Fangless each day.

Unlike the others who stuck to those they were comfortable with, he would pick one out of the crowd and then batter them with their own weapon. It was commendable and frightening, especially since he had yet to pick me. it served as a testement as well to how courageous, skilled and downright ignorant Kell had been for challenging and going momentarily toe to toe with him.

Maybe my gaze lingered on Grisile too long but Delphine spoke in a gentle tone, “You don’t need to be afraid of that guy. He's a little cocky and rude but he’d never do something risky in front of Vale.”

“Hate to burst your bubble but I’m terrified of all of you,” I spoke beneath my breath, a little too loud for Delphine to not catch it.

“Well, we might be a little less monstrous if you took the time to actually talk with us!” She said, pouting and looking a little incensed.

“T-that’s, not what I said!”

“I know, you just always seem so… on edge.”

How do you expect me to feel when we’re barely three days away from a battle to the death? or that you treat me like some sort of twisted family when as you stated, I barely know you.

I wondered, tactfully keeping this one to myself. God, I was such an idiot for speaking aloud, a bad habit of assuming no one was around.

How could I not be on edge when we spent all our days in the same routine, learning at the dawn of night, reviewing and studying afterwards till your mind became numb, then being stolen by sleep only to awake and repeat. Every time I woke, not only would I have to kill someone since I still lacked control but I’d also be reminded of my approaching doom. I was surprised it hadn't started chipping away at my sainty...

…or maybe it had

“Where’s Kell?” I asked switching the subject.

“He got injured yesterday so he can’t come until tomorrow.”

“…how?”

Delphine didn’t reply, instead of shifting her attention towards the other Sanguine, watching her current opponent like a hawk. I could see a slight cut on her cheek that had yet to fade and shivered at the thought of what might have transpired yesterday during free time.

Killing was forbidden among Fangless, but infighting was encouraged. By the Lord of Fall’s wicked ideology, constant conflict of the body and mind could temper them to a greater degree than anything else.

“Kell is… well, he’s a bit strung up. Worried he might be seen as weak, something that would get you robbed, killed or worse in the lower docks. He’s a good person, or at least a kind one, I swear.” Delphine started, making her case for Kell’s string of bad behaviour since I met him.

"He tries, really he does, even if he's a little hard headed."

Though I was a bit of a recluse when it came to free time, being either injured or practising my control of Ichor, Sven still made it a point to tell me between lessons of all the trouble Kell had got into. It was mostly random brawls and spats with other Fangless but at one point he had supposedly pissed off a fledgling of the Vanna clan.

Sol only knows how that happened.

“Please don’t stress about my opinion of you and your brother. You have no idea how many times Ella has threatened to kill me, so you’re pretty well off by comparison.” I Joked a little, hoping to bring up the sombre air between us.

“That does seem like something she’d do, even if she means the best.”

“Yea-“

A cascading sound of metal being jutted against stone resounded throughout the training hall, making all do a double-take to the middle where Vale stood. A long sword of bronze with a basic design and shimmer yellow symbols that radiated Ichor.

“All of you, in line.” He beckoned, offering little opportunity to deny the order.

Slowly we all gathered around the centre four pillars in a line, standing to the side of the massive hexagon embedded in the floor. It was a ritualistic duel ground generally used for either resulting disputes or giving someone sentenced to death a final chance at life.

Delphine stood next to me, a little more confident than before but still noticeably scared of those around her who put on a brave facade. She was unnaturally terrified by strangers but I didn’t have the gall to ask why only finding it peculiar that she could act normal around me.

Then again, if it made her happy it was no cause for issue.

Hearts around me beat in an increased pass in spite of their apparent undeath and I could feel the small drops of sweat nervously falling from nervous Fangless around me. While I hadn’t mentioned it to Qixi, from what I could tell having such a level of keen sense wasn’t normal for a Fangless. It might’ve helped put me ahead if not for my complete lack of physical finesse.

Vale's eyes bore into the members of the line one by one, the scarlet almost coming alive to paint the trail of blood that followed this man to all of us. Though I could only see my own Ichor, I could feel the oppressive radiation he gave off.

H-he’s still a monster…

Every time I imagined myself getting used to this place and its people, again I was slapped with the reality that they were not people and that would never happen. I was a sheep in a den of wolves, making careful steps to not expose my nature, less one might try and take a bite.

“You’re a lot quieter than the first day I met you all, good. Seems Cathre has taught you how to conduct yourself in a proper way.” He finally spoke, his expression barely a tinge of pride hidden behind a clear roughness. “That’s not all you lot have come to learn though is it, under my guidance I feel you’ve all grown as warriors and assets to whoever might claim you. For that, you have my respect.”

“Sadly however much I would appreciate seeing you blossom even further, in the next few days half of you will cease your journey across this life. For that, you have my apologies.”