Night #2, of Elena’s stay with Claire at Fort Maria…

I’ve lost track of time from staying in this room for most of the day, waiting at your side. It’s definitely not healthy doing this, but what else I can do for you, Claire? This disease of vampirism and undeath, this affliction that the Empire has so aptly condemned as the Blood Curse, causes you to spend the entire day asleep or awake in your bed, drifting constantly between half-lucid consciousness and waking nightmare. I don’t envy you, and I don’t blame you at all.

Now, it’s time for dinner. I’ve yet to consume a proper meal in centuries, being what I am. But, I’m sure that this soup that I’ve gotten fresh from the chefs at the castle kitchens, can easily be worthy of an Archon’s palate. It has plenty of meat and vegetables and nice little bits of sliced bread in its thick, steamy broth, and it all smells so good. They’ve even served it generously in a nice big cup, filled to the brim with broth and ingredients alike.

“Elena, I had another dream,” Claire says to me, as I prepare a pillow for her to sit upright. “It’s more of a nightmare, now that I’m looking back on it.”

“I’d love to hear about it,” I tell her, smiling as she accepts the cup of soup. “But, first…”

“Yes, my love?”

“You’ll have to eat your dinner, before I hear any of it.”

“If I’m being honest with you,” Claire tells me despondently, as her gaze falls towards the soup. “It looks delicious… and yet, I can’t smell it at all. I’m sure that it has a heavenly scent…”

“It definitely does smell good!”

“I’d agree with you, but I don’t feel hungry…”

“You’ve gotta eat something to keep that strength and spirit of yours going, aroma or not,” I tell her, smiling at her until she too, smiles weakly in turn. “You’re ill, remember?”

“I suppose…”

“C’mon, give it a try. Pretty please?”

I watch with that same smile upon my lips, as Claire takes a long and deep sip of her dinner. The frown on her face when she’s done chewing her food, isn’t a good thing at all.

“What’s wrong?” I ask her, though I suspect I already know the answer. “It’s not to your liking?”

“The broth is good, but the ingredients in it taste like…”

She stops herself, as tears form in her eyes.

“Ashes… in my mouth. Elena, I don’t understand…”

It’s as I fear, I’m afraid. It goes against everything that I know of this accursed disease, and yet, I held out hope that it wouldn’t be the case for you. Even if only, for one more day.

“Taste it… for me…” Claire utters weakly, as she thrusts the cup of soup towards me. “What I’m feeling… this can’t be right at all…”

Wordlessly, I take the cup from her hands. Despite the warm and rich flavour of the broth, the soup’s ingredients taste like ashes in my mouth. It’s the reason why that as a Lich, I don’t eat food, and why I stick to beverages like coffee and wine. Both of which, for some reason, still have a relatively palatable taste.

Why’s that? I dunno. Perhaps, Amon has as much of a drinking problem as I do.

“Is something… wrong?” Claire asks me, looking at me worriedly as she leans back against her pillow. “The meat and vegetables do taste awful, right? Am I… going crazy?”

“It does taste awful to me, Claire…” I answer her, with a frown. “I…”

“You do know something about this… don’t you? It has something to do with this… Blood Curse, doesn’t it?”

When I give Claire nothing more than a nod in reply, I can’t help but frown as I watch her sink further back into the sweat and softness of her pillow.

“Hmm, how should I put it…” I wonder out loud, as I place the half-empty cup of soup aside. “Do you remember, what I told you about myself when we first met?”

“That you’re… a Lich?”

“Spot on. Liches are undead, and uh…you’re becoming undead. Slowly. You’re in that, uh, transitioning phase.”

“Undead…?”

“Yeah, that,” I answer, as she looks at me with fatigued curiosity. “Dead, but not quite. Alive and kicking, just not in that… natural way.”

“Just like you… huh?”

Oh, Claire! You’re very placid about this, huh? Now, at this point, I’m not even sure what to think or say in regards to that. Not anymore, I’m afraid.

“Kinda, actually. Think of the word as an umbrella term,” I explain to her, as best I can. “Like different types of Hellbourne, if you will. By now, you’ve seen a couple of different variants of those eldritch fiends, right?”

“Master Zaxas is a Nisroch, and Her Excellency’s… a Beholder. And Anna, the occultists tell me that she’s a Hybrid…”

“Right. Something like that. Under the Dark Goddess’s hierarchy, there are various types of undead. Some, more common than others. Liches, zombies, vampires, skeletons, wights, ghosts… you get the idea.”

“You’re a Lich, as you say… and I’ll become… a Vampire?”

I nod once at Claire, in response to her question. I’ll say it here, once again, that even for me, her calmness towards it all is… unnerving.

“My mother… used to warn Anna and I about vampires. That we shouldn’t stay out late, because of them. Because they’ll eat us, and… drink our blood.”

“She’s right about that, y’know?”

“Blood…” Claire says out loud, tasting the word upon her tongue. “I don’t know… how I should phrase it, but… I keep thinking of it, and I… feel so strange…”

“It’s natural to do so, Claire,” I answer her, after a moment of contemplation. “Vampires crave blood, and your thoughts are an extension of that growing desire.”

“Desire…? It feels, so unnatural.”

“In the days of old, long before Elicia or the Hellbourne, there were humans and elves who abandoned Sophia when starvation stalked the land,” I explain to her, slowly and deliberately. “They turned their prayers to the Dark Goddess for salvation, seeking an end to their hunger.”

“The Dark Goddess.... Amon, was it…?”

“Yeah. First, in her name, they consumed the flesh of the dead. And then, the blood of the living. Eventually, their bodies adapted. They found themselves beyond mortality, an existence sustainable only by the consumption of mortal life.”

I wait a moment, for Claire to say something. She doesn’t. In this silence between us, she’s lost in her thoughts.

“Well… it is what it is, I guess?” I say after a while, doing my best to smile. “I’d stay up late, way past any mortal’s bedtime, to catch and kill ‘em. They’re filthy bloodsuckers, y’know? And I…”

I catch myself before I go off the deep end, but it’s far too late to retract my words. Thankfully, Claire takes it with good humour. Her smile seems to suggest that much. Or that maybe, just maybe, she’s too tired to be upset.

“I’m sure I’ve asked you before, Elena,” Claire says to me, while I cover my mouth in utter embarrassment. “Am I the only one who finds it very endearing when you stumble and blush like that?”

“My brother used to say that about me, yeah. Lady Mezalune too, in more recent times.”

“I see! I guess… I’m not that crazy after all.”

“You’d be crazy indeed, if you don’t finish this delicious dinner,” I declare, regaining my composure as I offer her the soup, once again. “Remember our deal?”

“That you’d hear me out, about my dream?”

“Yeah, that one. How about it, hmm?”

“I’ve already… fulfilled my end of the bargain, my love,” Claire states, as a weak but sly smile forms upon her lips. “I’m very sure, that I did!”

In response to that, I shake my head and show her the cup. It’s still half-empty with soup, and when she see it, she knows that I’m right.

“You know, you remind me of myself,” Claire remarks, as her smile turns mischievous. “I used to do this… with Anna. Whenever she was down with a cold, or flu, and refused to eat…”

“Then you’d know where I’m coming from with this,” I declare triumphantly, steeling myself as I gulp down some of the soup. “Anyway… I’ve made your task a whole lot easier. Misery loves company, y’know?”

“I suppose, after this great sacrifice of yours, I can’t let you down…”

“That’s more like it.”

As I wipe my mouth clean with a napkin, I watch, with an admittedly strange sense of joy and pride, as Claire finishes the soup. I wonder, really, if that’s what my brother felt back in the day when he’d take care of me whenever I’d fall ill. I’m sure Claire feels the same way, with Anna.

“So, uh, how about that dream?” I ask Claire, as I clean her mouth with another napkin, before leaning in close to kiss her upon her forehead. “I’d love to hear it.”

Claire smiles at me, while I accept the emptied cup and put it away. There’s a tired, yet serene vibe to her smile, even as she blushes a bright red. Her eyelids look like they’re about to close shut at any moment, and that they’re open because she’s trying her hardest to force them to stay that way.

“I mean, you did finish your dinner, didn’t ya? You’ve earned this, y’know?”

“I suppose I did, my love!” Claire declares, with a sudden burst of enthusiasm that leaves me surprised. “Hmm… how do I begin?”

“From the beginning, probably.”

“Hmph.”

“Sorry. Couldn’t resist.”

“Anyway, I dreamt that I was in some kind of… desert?” Claire says, her expression betraying her puzzlement to me as she speaks. “I was standing completely still, and when I tried to move… it dawned on me that my skin had turned to glass!”

“Oh, that can’t be good for your complexion.”

“I couldn’t move… and somehow I knew that if I did, I’d break into a thousand pieces. And there was an itch that I couldn’t ignore, and it grew stronger with every second…”

“I knew a sorcerer who possessed magic like that,” I remark out loud, smiling as I do. “He turned my arm to glass. I had his entire body incinerated into a pile of ash.”

“You’re not taking this very seriously, aren’t you?”

I look at Claire, and my smile goes away when I realise that her expression has gone sour.

“I’m taking this seriously, Claire,” I say to her. “Always am.”

“You don’t sound like you’re doing that…”

“That’s just how it is, with me,” I state in reply, my voice falling to a whisper. “The creation of a Lich inflicts great suffering upon the world. I’ve realised this a little too late, and when it finally dawned on me… it felt awful, y’know?”

“Elena, I…”

“If I’m being honest here, I can’t say that my existence is all sunshine and rainbows, having such thoughts constantly on my mind. And so, if I don’t smile or laugh a little in the face of everything else thrown my way… I might as well just destroy my own phylactery and end it for good. But I can’t do that, not yet, because of my oath to serve Lady Mezalune after what she’s done for me, and because of… you. Even so, don’t think for a second that I’m not taking your words to heart.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” I say with a smile, reaching for Claire’s hand as we look each other in the eye. “I’m the one in the wrong here, y’know? I’m sorry as well.”

“I love you… Elena.”

“Love you too, Claire,” I answer, closing my eyes shut as I hold her hand as tightly as I can. “And yet, I gotta wonder…”

“Yes, my love?”

“Why are you so damn nice to me, huh? Even now, I still don’t understand…”

I’d go on talking, but I find myself silenced when Claire places a finger upon my lips. Her touch is so soft and gentle, and I find myself gently nudging my lips upon it.

“If I’m being honest… if you met me at the prime of my career, I would’ve turned my nose up at you if I didn’t know that you’re a Vizier. But after everything that has happened, I’ve been… humbled.”

I open my mouth to say something to that, only to have Claire’s smile silence me again.

“And I’m glad… that I think differently, now. Every day with you feels like I’m living a new life, and that the old Claire de la Lune died in the lair of Izoria Vhal. I’m happy… being with you, seeing the world alongside you, and I hope… it’ll never change.”

“I hope so too, I…”

I stop myself mid-sentence, and nod curtly in solemn silence. Claire has fallen asleep, again. Being cursed is indeed, a rather tiring existence. Her breaths are peaceful and relaxed, even if her grip on my hand remains as tight as ever.

It’s okay, my love. I’ll wait and remain here, until you wake up.