Chapter Text
On a winter morning, Veritas Ratio succumbed to white death.
He was a brilliant scholar who had spent his living days researching medicine and plants in the little tourelle of the Cathedral de Dame Diane.
He would sometimes go from house to house and provide well-appreciated medical treatment to the poor and the sick for free.
Yet, the kind Veritas Ratio had passed away in December, alone, in his chamber.
But nobody ever heard the news of his decease.
Why ?
Because a day and a night later, an exceptional phenomenon occured.
Something extraordinary: the birth of a vampyre.
—
Veritas Ratio awoke heavy headed, but soon noticed a few abnormalities about his body.
He no longer had any trouble breathing (was he even breathing ?), and he no longer coughed because of his disease.
His neighbours would have said that it was a blessing that his tuberculosis was completely cured within a day.
However, Veritas preferred a more rational explanation, but he could not quite make up what it was.
As days went by, the scholar recorded many symptoms evocative of vampyrism: his body temperature was in decline, his sensitivity to the Sun was worsening, his canine teeth were growing longer and – most importantly, the need to drink blood started to become stronger.
From his understanding, he was most likely undergoing a ‘natural vampyrisation process’, which meant he was slowly getting closer, day by day, to the recorded features of an actual vampyre.
He knew he would soon not be able to leave the cathedral during the day anymore. The risk of being discovered and slaughtered became higher as the days went by.
In consequence, Ratio had no choice but to abandon his scholarly life, and begin a long – if not unending – journey.
He began drinking blood from dead animals he encountered on his way between the towns that sheltered him from the day.
His identity was no longer ‘Veritas the scholar’ but ‘Veritas the pilgrim’.
Later came the turn of live animals, unbearably so. But he soon realised that none of this was enough to maintain his body healthy and his mind sane.
He needed human blood.
Knowing he might end up going on a rampage if he kept starving himself, he discreetly walked out of the towns at night, looking for one of those faraway mass graves where the people who succumbed to the plague were buried.
Drinking their blood was not ideal, but it worked.
Being already dead, he could not fall ill from drinking contaminated blood.
However, there was still a risk of contaminating others, which is why he preferred to be sheltered to the furthest sides of the towns.
Maybe Ratio was not physically human anymore, but his heart remained just as great.
During one of his nightly travels from a town to another, the once scholar was attacked by a famished wild dog.
“Darn it!”
Canine teeth of a crushingly powerful jaw perforated his right flank before he could even react.
The dog growled aggressively, and sank its teeth deeper into the man’s flesh.
Ratio yelped in horror. He reached for the animal’s muzzle, unsuccessfully trying to divert its attention from biting his flank to biting his left arm.
Blood painted the snow crimson red, but the poor man felt somewhat relieved to see that his blood was still akin to a human’s.
Suddenly, his vision blackened, and he was struck by a severe headache. He then felt awfully light, and could not feel his limbs anymore – or at least, his human limbs.
He felt the cold breeze carry him away under the moonlight, far away from the terrifying growlings of the famished dog, and he finally lost consciousness.
When Veritas awoke, an unfamiliar warmth welcomed him. He stared at the beige ceiling for a while…
Wait… a ceiling ?
Intense dread soon took over him.
He was in a human’s house, wasn’t he ? How much did they know ? How much had they seen ? Was he taken for an unlucky passerby ? Should he risk pretending to be human ? Should he discreetly escape this place ? How far was he from another town ? What arguments could he use to defend himself from a potential interrogation ?
Click.
Creeeaaaaak.
His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of a twisting doorknob and an opening door.
Veritas immediately closed his eyes, and pretended to be asleep.
Light steps.
Sliding sounds.
Was the author of those sounds perhaps wearing slippers…?
The person halted to Ratio’s left. Even though they were probably farther away than twice the injured man’s arm-length, their faint breathing felt awfully close.
Suddenly, the metallic sound of a water-filled bowl resonated throughout the room. Listening to the emitted waves, Ratio estimated that the room he was in must have been quite spacious.
Adding this information to the comfort that brought the mattress beneath him, he hypothesised that he was most likely located in a decent house.
But a decent house in the woods meant well-off people. And well-off people in this time and age usually meant people who had benefited a certain level of education, which led to the conclusion that Ratio should remain as cautious as possible when divulging information about himself.
His muscles relaxed from relief as he had gained more information about his surroundings, although very little, when suddenly-
The blanket that kept him warm was lifted.
Fortunately, his living-dead body did not react much to the cold, and his act was not exposed.
But why was it so cold ?
Veritas realised he was actually naked.
Ah.
Nevermind. He was wearing braies.
Maybe his tactile sense was numbed, because he did not know his waist was bandaged until careful hands undid the dressing of his wound.
He let the person treat the area and clean the seemingly dried blood in silence.
He wondered how his wound looked, until the person made an incorrect movement that made him yelp in agony (both physical and psychological pain because this person had clearly no idea about how to treat such wounds).
“Oh! I’m so sorry !”
Ratio opened his eyes.
The image of a blonde young man covering his mouth with his hand and who bore sorry eyes appeared before him.
He then looked at his wound: it did not look wonderful.
“Sigh. Save the apologies for later and let me treat it myself.”
“Oh-oh...sure-”
Veritas looked around the room before locking back eyes with the disconcerted young man, whose eyes were of intriguing colours, and who was now blushing furiously.
“Did you, by any chance, make a mixture of boiled water, vinegar and salt in this bowl ?”
The blonde man seemed surprised by the question. He opened and closed his mouth like a fish for a moment, not finding words.
Ratio gave him an exasperated look and he suddenly quickly nodded to confirm the previous question.
“Good. Then I assume you also have a few clean needles and catgut.”
His interlocutor’s eyes seemed to shine for a moment.
“Right away !”
He ran out of the room, and soon came back with a wooden box and some linen.
Ratio raised his eyebrows as the young man handed him the needle and the catgut enthusiastically.
“Thank you.”
What a queer person. he thought, but not hiding the fact that he was impressed by this young man’s knowledge.
It was not so often that one met people who knew about wound cleaning mixtures.
Veritas began stitching his own wound.
—
Right. What a queer person.
Veritas was reading a novel (that the young man had brought him earlier) in order to distract himself from his growing thirst for human blood and the growing risk of potentially jumping and killing his host in the process.
However, this very same young man was silently staring at him.
As he turned the pages, the weight of the other’s gaze grew gradually heavy. The injured man swiftly closed the book, and stared back at the blonde.
“If you have anything to say, please use your tongue.”
The young man’s intense gaze was almost unbearable.
“I was thinking…”
Ah, so this was the beginning of the masquerade. What Ratio despised the most was twisting the truth.
However, he had no choice but to lie at this moment.
He prepared for the oh so dreaded question. However…
“What’s your name ?”
“......”
“Ah, it’s also alright if you don’t want to tell me…or if you have forgotten.”
“...my name is Veritas.”
The blonde man seemed genuinely pleased to learn Veritas’ name. He beamed a smile.
“Veritas… a lovely name. Befitting of your charming demeanour.”
“There’s no need for flatteries.”
“I’m being honest, Veritas. My name is Aventurine. Pleased to meet you.” he then performed a curtsy, as if he was wearing a dress.
“So am I.”
A moment of thought later, Ratio enquired:
“Pray tell, in what circumstances did you find me ?”
“Last night, right under my porch.”
He paused.
“I saw blood, and a leg from my room’s window. Fortunately, you were still alive. You were pretty lucky.”
‘...How exactly, if not at all, did you check whether I was alive or not ?’ was the question Ratio would have liked to ask.
Being a living-dead, he did not need to breathe when he was not conscious.
However, seeking the answer was not without any consequences. The injured man therefore remained silent.
Aventurine played with the cuff of his shirt, before breaking contact with his guest’s eyes.
“Can you tell me what happened to you ?”
“I was attacked by a famished dog.”
Aventurine hummed pensively.
“I see. That’s all I needed to know. Please rest well. Call me if you need anything.”
He pointed at the little brass hand bell on the nightstand.
“I will. Thank you.”
The blonde man seemed strangely pleased by Ratio’s words.
He did not ask any more questions and quickly left the room, carefully closing the door behind him, as if any noise could startle Veritas.
A few minutes passed, and the latter began to think about ways to escape this place before it was too late.
—
Second day of being bedridden.
Aventurine spent his day taking care of Veritas, who felt like he was being quite the burden.
Aventurine read through, and told him he didn’t mind. He was happy to finally have a ‘friend’ with whom he could talk.
He talked about his family, about how they were from another country, how their eye colour was unique to their tribe, and how they had moved into this mansion.
He told him about his sister, the white death, the death of their parents…
He sounded very lonely.
—
Third day of being bedridden.
Veritas enquired Aventurine about his medical knowledge.
He learnt that his mother and sister used to practise medicine.
He simply remembered the few things he saw when he was younger.
They exchanged on the subject for a while.
—
Fourth day of being bedridden.
Veritas was not getting any better. His complexion was in fact worryingly discoloured.
None of the protein-rich food Aventurine had served him seemed to satiate him, contrary to the latter’s claims.
Every time he entered the room, Veritas would avoid his gaze and clench his fists, as if he was afraid of the blonde man.
Aventurine feared the worst, when he suddenly had an idea.
—
Knock knock.
Aventurine knocked against the room’s door as usual, asking for permission to enter.
“Please, come in.” weakly answered Ratio.
And then, an unusual yet adorable scene unfolded before his eyes.
Light fabric crepes cascaded down the floor, and graciously swirled around Aventurine’s waist. Long blonde untied hair followed along.
If Aventurine had not told Ratio that he lived alone, he would have believed that the figure before him was his sister.
“So, how do I look ?” asked the blonde man as he kept turning around, as if he was trying out a new dress.
Ratio sighed.
“What are you up to….”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“You look like yourself.”
“Hmm ? Is that so ?”
“But it isn’t impossible that I could’ve briefly mistaken you for another person.”
“Really ?”
“Really.”
“Well, this wasn’t the way I thought this would go, but I still managed to catch your attention.”
“What does this mean ?”
“Nothing much. You were acting strange this morning, so I thought a little change could help.”
“Ah.”
Ratio had been avoiding Aventurine’s gaze. And the reason was to not go insane.
He was famished, much like the dog who had attacked him a few days ago.
This morning, the sole sight of Aventurine leaning over him to cover him better with the blanket made Ratio’s instincts go wild.
He was famished, he needed blood, but not only was he constantly watched over, he was also too weak to escape.
Aventurine kneeled to the bed, and calmly inspected Ratio’s sickly face.
“Veritas, do you fear men ?”
The purple haired man was not expecting such a question.
“I don’t.”
“Do you hate women ?”
“What is the purpose of these questions ?”
“I was just wondering.”
“I don’t hate women. And I don’t hate men either. Do you ?”
“I don’t.”
Aventurine traced little circles over the blanket with the tip of his index finger.
“Aventurine.”
“Yes ?”
“Did you perhaps think I was afraid of you ?”
Aventurine’s finger halted for a moment, and he gazed into the dawn coloured eyes of the violet haired man.
“Why were you avoiding my gaze, then ?”
—
For dinner, Aventurine brought him blood sausage, and fed Ratio himself: a bite of blood sausage, and a bite of steamed wheat at once.
One bite, two bites, three bites.
At the fourth bite, Ratio grabbed Aventurine’s wrist.
“What’s wrong ?”
Ratio did not answer, he closed his eyes. His breathing was unsteady.
“You don’t need to feed me, Aventurine.”
“You can barely hold a spoon, Veritas.”
“This is not what I meant. Feeding me is useless.”
“How so ?”
“What if I told you that I actually suffered from a certain illness ?”
“An illness that makes you turn into a bat ?” Aventurine softly smiled.
Silence ensued.
Ratio sighed.
“So you knew all this time.”
“I had an inkling of an idea. But I wasn’t exactly sure. I was wondering why the man who had appeared on my porch was naked in the middle of a winter night.”
“Naked- ??”
—
The moonlight shone through the curtains of the room. On the bed, two shadows.
“Do you want to try sucking on my fingers ?” Aventurine extended his left hand to Ratio’s lips.
“This sounded wrong…”
“Don’t worry, I cleaned them. I am also right handed.”
“This is not the issue at hand.”
“....”
“How can you be so eager ?”
“No idea.”
—
Veritas healed overnight.
“Ohh, impressive !” said Aventurine as he undressed the former wound.
“Indeed.”
—
And then they lived happily ever after.