Rachel started her training by sorting all of Niero’s garbage into two separate piles - items to be discarded and items to be kept. The discard pile was much larger at this point, full of objects that were broken or rotten or unidentifiable. This took her most of the day, and by the time she had finished the sun was low in the sky. Neiro had been gone all day, telling her “it’s always night time somewhere” before vanishing through the doorway.

Just moving everything to the front of the house left her drenched with sweat and hardly able to move. And she had not even started on the second floor yet. But if her training was going to be of any use, then she had to eat something. Her muscles needed something to help repair themselves.

She stumbled down the hill towards what she assumed was a village. Lights were already starting to appear as darkness arrived. She could still hardly believe how beautiful this part of the world was, the grass lush and abundant, the flowers full and colorful, the trees tall and healthy looking. She passed a few small buildings on her way down, and all of the people she saw gave her a big wave.

Eventually one of them asked her to stop.

“Oh my, you look drenched,” said an old man, hobbling out from a small pink building. He did not move quickly, but he was surprisingly lean and muscular for someone his age. “You wouldn't happen to be living with Niero would you?”

Rachel heisted. She was surprised the locals were familiar with the vampire. She figured that he had simply moved into that empty building up on the hill after murdering the real owner. If he was known, she figured he was feared. But this old man was smiling at her without any malice.

“Uh, yea, we just got here last night,” she said. “I’m his niece, by the way. Nice to meet you.”

The old man raised a skeptical eyebrow. “His niece, you say? Funny, I didn’t know vampires could have a niece. Unless you’re from way back when he was a living person.”

Now it was Racherl’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“You know what he is?” she asked.

“Of course I do. Now come in. You look like you could use something to eat.”

Rachel tried to politely decline, but a poorly timed belly rumble left her with little choice. She could also sense she was about to pass out. She had already worked her way through the extravagant dinner from the night before.

The dinner that night was much more humble, a stew of unidentifiable vegetables and a bit of chicken. But it was hardly a bad meal, much better than anything she ever had back home. The chicken was plump and juicy, and the vegetables were good, even if it was an acquired taste.

“So you know what he is,” said Rachel. “And you’re alright with him living up the hill?”

“Alright with it?” asked the old man. He started to laugh so hard the stew soup leaked out his nose and poured onto his shirt and lap. “No, I’m sorry, but of course we don’t mind. Do you have any idea how nice it is having a vampire as a neighbor?” He waved his hand back and forth, as if brushing aside the urge to laugh further. “Well, I see your concern,” he said, his face straightening. “The trick is knowing if they’re your neighbor or not. But if a vampire’s been living down the road from you for three months and hasn’t killed you, well, then they’re your neighbor. And that’s a good thing indeed. You know who comes messing with us? Want to guess how many bandits we get up here?”

“I see your point,” said Rachel, struggling to lift the soup to her mouth. As soon as she sat down, the adrenaline of the past few days left her, and she found she could hardly move her limbs anymore. The idea of a vampire being anything other than evil was new to her. But she had decided she could tolerate Niero, if only for as long as it took him to teach her. She would also wait until he had killed the vampire he was hunting. But after that, there was no way she could let him live - she had simply postponed killing him. But this old man clearly did not just tolerate Niero. He seemed to think fondly of him.

How?

“So you’ve talked to him?” asked Rachel.

“Talk to him?” said the old man, his eyes becoming a bit paler in the middle, giving him a far away look. “Well sure I have, I talked to him as soon as I learned how.” He glanced out the window and up the hill, at Niero’s mansion. “Yup, he came here when I was just a baby. They say he used to hold me - and mind you - this was back before everyone had grown comfortable with him. Back before his three months were up, before we knew if we were truly his neighbors and or just another meal.”

“Wait, did your mom let him hold you?” asked Rachel, apawled, rising so suddenly that she knocked over her soup. The old man did not seem to mind. He didn’t even flinch as the soup poured over his clothes, which were already drenched.

“No, I understand,” said the old man, chuckling. “I wondered about that myself, so I asked my mom about it.” He took Rachel’s bowl and filled it once again, as she plummeted back into her seat. She had just exhausted the last of her strength.

“Why did she tell you?” she asked.

“Well, the way she figured, I was probably pretty safe,” he answered. “Vampires are strictly forbidden from turning babies, you know. I mean, can you imagine, a bunch of immortal toddlers stumbling around? It’d be chaos. And sure, he could eat me, but a baby is hardly much of a snack. Not a lot of blood in there.”

He acted brave, but Rachel could tell by the way he shivered slightly that the idea of his tiny infant self, held in those immortal hands….

He had clearly lost sleep over it. She could tell that much.

“But really,” he continued, passing the bowl back to Rachel. “She told me that she could tell he wanted to hold me. It stuck her as odd, a monster like that wanting to cradle a baby. But she figured she should let him. Lord knows none of the other mothers wouldn’t let him hold their babies. And she figured it’s best to be in the good graces of a monster like that.”

Rachel was intrigued by the old man’s story, if not a bit disturbed. But before she could ask any further questions, the spoon fell from her fingers, then the rest of her slipped from the chair and collapsed on the floor. She could not even clench her fingers anymore, let alone feel them. She sensed the heavy daze that came just before fainting.

“I see he’s up to his old tricks again,” said the old man, muttering some strange words under his breath and swishing his wrist, much like Niero would. Rachel glimpsed a white light, then her whole body started to feel much lighter, control gradually returning to her limbs.

“What did you just do?” she asked, testing out her fingers. They appeared to be in working order now.

“Healing magic,” he answered. “It’s just a first order incantation. No great shakes. But it should make you feel a bit better.”

“Can you teach me?” said Rachel, lunging to her feet, all her energy returning at once. She had only seen glimpses of magic, from the slayers that passed through her village every so often. She would need every advantage if she were going to fight vampires, and this seemed the perfect weapon against an immortal creature. Vampires had natural regenerative powers. She would need some of her own.

Her eyes met the old man’s, and for a few moments there was a subtle communication. Her eyes gazed at him expectantly, and his eyes glanced away. But when he turned back, he was wearing the exhausted look of someone who was about to agree to a lot of hard work.

“Well, I’m sure Niero would want me to help you out. So yes. But first….” he said, handing her a spoon. “But first, let’s see if we can’t get that soup somewhere other than the floor.”