Chapter Text
The sun had already set when that hired carriage reached its destiny, which was a relief. Barok disembarked, tipping the driver for his good service—and few questions asked—before he drove away. Once the carriage disappeared from view, Barok turned his gaze to the wooden sign before him: Dragonrest, a name that didn’t seem to fit such a small, peaceful-looking town.
So, that was really the place… After two entire years of searching, Barok had finally found him.
There was a mix of anxiety and excitement in his chest. He was so close… He could barely believe it. Gathering his courage, he started walking, crossing the stone arc that marked the entrance to the place. Two steps in, a small dog barked at him, with a ferocity disproportional to its size.
“Toby!”
In a moment, a blond girl in a grease-stained apron approached them, holding the small beast.
“Sorry, mister…” she said. “He’s been possessed today.”
The girl didn’t seem surprised at his appearance, and Barok knew it was because the face she saw wasn’t entirely accurate to the real one: pale, but not deathly so; blue eyes instead of red; teeth slightly sharp, but not like fangs. His veil magic was weak, but once again it did its job. Barok smiled at her.
“It is fine.” He crouched, looking at the dog. “Toby, then…”
Barok offered him his hand, which Toby sniffed. After a moment of uncertainty, he seemed to decide that Barok wasn’t a threat, giving his hand a small lick while wagging his tail.
“Ya like dogs?” asked the girl.
“Very much so.”
“Cool!” She grinned, then took a better look at Barok’s face. “Anyway, haven’t seen you here before.”
“You’re right, I’m not from around here.”
“Hi, not from around here, I’m Gina.” She groaned at her own joke. “I’m starting to get his bad sense of humor too…”
Her frustration was slightly amusing, and Barok couldn’t hold back a low chuckle. “Actually, the name’s Barok.”
“Nice to meet ya.”
She offered Barok her hand. Instead of shaking it, however, she pulled him along as she walked down the street.
“My stepdad will be thrilled to meet ya,” she said. “He loves it when new people get here. He’s working at the shop… It’s right there.”
Barok didn’t protest, mostly because the girl clearly meant him no harm. They stopped in front of what seemed to be a mechanical workshop, and she opened the door, yelling inside.
“Hey, Sholmes! Guess what? There’s a traveler here.”
There was a distant response coming from inside. “A what?”
“A traveler!” She turned her gaze back to Barok. “He’ll be here in a sec.”
As she said, soon a blond man in an equally stained apron materialized before them, carrying a wide smile.
“Welcome, traveler,” he said. “It is always a pleasure to see a new face.”
Gina chuckled, pleased, then gestured inside the shop. “Well, gotta get back to work. Talk to ya later, mister!”
Barok nodded at Gina, watching as Toby followed her inside. He looked at Sholmes, who studied him with an interested grin.
“It is rather rare for us to get visitors,” he said. “Other than the usual merchants and neighbors, of course.”
Barok glanced around. “It does seem like a peaceful town.”
“Peaceful is precisely the word.” He paused, studying Barok. “But, before I forget, I am Herlock Sholmes. And you are?”
“Barok.”
He had a fake surname ready, but Sholmes didn’t question him for it.
“So, dear Barok…” he said. “What brings you to our humble town?”
There it was… The question he had been dreading and hoping for in equal measures. He managed to keep a calm expression as he responded.
“I am looking for the witch who lives here.”
Sholmes raised his eyebrows. “Oh, do you mean our herbalist?” He let out a small, slightly nervous chuckle. “I know you didn’t mean any harm by it, but calling someone a witch is considered somewhat rude around these parts.”
“Oh.” Barok lowered his eyes. “Forgive me, I didn’t know.”
So, they weren’t aware of it… He couldn’t tell if that would make things easier or harder for him.
“It is quite alright, I can tell you’re not from here.” “And you do look quite pale… I’m guessing you came here for a remedy?”
“Precisely. I need a remedy for a rare condition, and I was told a herbalist from here could help me.”
He had practiced that lie enough times that it came naturally to him. Sholmes nodded, a hint of sympathy on his face.
“You can find him following the main road—” he gestured at the opposite entrance of the town “—until you see a small beaten path to your right. It should be a ten-minute walk from here… Even less with a brisk pace. Just don’t take it personally if he does not open the door for you… He can be quite shy around strangers, that one.”
“I see…”
Sholmes smiled. “It is getting pretty late. If you need a place to stay, try my dear friend Mikotoba’s Inn.” He indicated a building across the street. “Clean sheets, warm food, and a fair price. You couldn’t ask for more.”
It also seemed to be the only inn in town, but Barok decided to keep the observation to himself.
“Thank you, I will pay it a visit.”
“Come see us once you settle in,” said Sholmes. “Gina will gladly give you a tour of the place.”
Barok agreed, then walked toward the inn. There was a “welcome” mat at the door… Barok smiled to himself, grateful for the clear invitation as he stepped inside. A young, black-haired woman smiled at him from behind the counter.
“Good evening! Are you here to spend the night?”
“Yes.” Barok observed her, who seemed a little too young to own such a place. “Are you Mikotoba?”
“That’s right.” A brief giggle escaped her lips. “But you probably mean my father, Yujin Mikotoba. I’m Susato.”
“And I am Barok.”
“Welcome, Barok. Your first time here in town, I suppose?”
“Indeed.”
“I thought so. Let me know if you need directions.”
Her polite manners were quite different from Gina’s, but her friendliness was just as warm. One more reason for him to find that witch quickly… He wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to those people.
He negotiated his stay with Susato, and soon everything had been sorted out: he had a place to rest for the following days.
“Just a moment…” Susato reached for a curious object that resembled a small rabbit figurine. Then, to Barok’s surprise, she brought it close to her face and spoke to it. “Ryunosuke, can you help our guest with his luggage?”
A few seconds later, the back door was opened, and a young man peeked at them from behind it, seeming slightly surprised.
“Ah… Yes!” He cleaned his hands on his trousers before approaching Barok. “Hi! I’ll… I’ll show you to your room.”
Barok followed him upstairs, and as soon as they reached the second floor, Ryunosuke looked at him, seeming curious.
“You’re not a merchant, are you?” he asked.
“No, just a traveler.”
“I see.” Ryunosuke smiled. “That’s unusual, so don’t be surprised if people stare at you, or try to start a conversation. You’ll probably be the talk of the town for the next few days.”
Barok nodded. “I will keep this in mind.”
Ryunosuke guided him to a small, but cozy bedroom, placing his suitcase on the bed.
“I hope you enjoy your stay,” he said. “Let me know if you need anything. Dinner should be ready soon…”
Suddenly, all color seemed to drain from Ryunosuke’s face.
“Ah, the stew…! Please, excuse me!”
Without another word, Ryunosuke dashed out of the bedroom, leaving Barok alone in what would be his living place for the following days. The first thing he did was close the window, then pull the curtains over it, so the only light in the bedroom came from an enchanted lantern beside the bed—in which a moon-maiden flower glowed gently under the water. Barok smiled: his brother gave him a similar one when he was still a child afraid of the dark.
The thought made his heart sting, and he quickly pushed it out of his mind, focusing instead on that curious little place he found himself in. In no more than a few minutes, he had been more warmly welcomed in Dragonrest than in most places he had visited before. It was nice, but also… A little unsettling.
But maybe that was just him being paranoid, always expecting the worst outcomes from every situation. Not that he didn’t have reasons to… But, for now, he would try not to question his blessings, and enjoy the peace for as long as it lasted—even if it was just a few more minutes.
After a short rest from the long carriage ride, Barok left the bedroom. Downstairs, he heard what seemed to be Susato scolding Ryunosuke in the kitchen—some complications with supper, it seemed… Good thing Barok didn’t have the need to eat. He decided not to get himself involved, stepping out of the inn, being greeted by the cool night breeze. He would have liked to just enjoy it for some time, but instead, he followed the main road that crossed the town, until he reached its opposite end, then continued.
His undead heart thumped with every step. He was so close… A ten-minute walk… Two years of searching, and he was finally there, ten minutes away from his grasp. Barok hastened his steps, until he was almost running down that road. It seemed to go on forever, but then he finally saw it: the beaten path, which led to a small building surrounded by trees and a garden of flowers and herbs.
He stopped there, observing the place from a safe distance for a while. Then, he approached the door, lightly touching its surface with his fingertips. The buzzing sensation in his skin confirmed his suspicions: it looked like a common cabin, but there was magic all around it, like a thin but impenetrable barrier. Even if Barok wasn’t a vampire, he wouldn’t be able to enter that place without its owner’s invitation.
So, instead of trying to force his way in, he took a moment to calm himself down, gathering his courage to knock on the wooden door. The response came a second later.
“Yes?”
The voice caught him by surprise: the witch sounded much younger than Barok expected.
“Are you the herbalist?” he asked.
“Yes…” He could sense some hesitation in his voice. “Do you need something?”
Barok’s mind froze for a moment: he had been so ready to fight for his life that he hadn’t thought of an excuse for his visit.
“I… have an upset stomach,” he said.
There was no response. Barok was starting to wonder if his lie had been too obvious when he heard some sounds coming from inside. He tensed up, afraid that the witch had, somehow, seen through his act. He reached for the hunting knife on his belt, ready to defend himself at any moment.
After a minute of tension, the door opened just a crack, revealing a gloved hand holding a small flask.
“Drink this every day before you sleep, until you feel better,” said the witch. “Two fingers in a common glass will do. You can dilute it in water if the taste is too strong. If the symptoms worsen, come back to me.”
That level of professionalism wasn’t what Barok expected. He took that flask, examining the greenish-clear liquid inside it.
“Thank you…” Then, something crossed his mind. “How much do I owe you?”
The witch went silent again. “You’re not from here, are you?”
“Well, no.”
“I have a deal with the town… I make them medicine, and they bring me everything I need. Coin is useless to me.”
“Oh, right.” Barok thought briefly. “Then… What should I pay you with?”
“You don’t need to.” A small pause. “Is there anything else?”
“No.”
“You should go back, then. It’s getting cold, so try to keep yourself warm during the night.”
Once again, Barok didn’t know how to react. “Thank you, I will.”
The witch said nothing else, probably considering that consultation over. Barok stepped away from his cabin, his mind too full for him to be able to think properly. That first contact had been much simpler than he thought. Strange… But that man didn’t sound like the monster described to him—far from it, actually.
“He will try to manipulate you into sympathizing with him.” Stronghart’s words echoed in his mind. “Don’t fall for it.”
Barok furrowed his brow. Yes, he couldn’t allow his softer side to stop him from acting. He had come that far, spent so much time searching, felt so much pain… He couldn’t allow that witch to throw all of his efforts away.
With his resolve fortified, Barok continued to walk back toward the town. As he approached, he noticed a figure leaning against the wall; a few steps later, he could recognize Sholmes, now free from the stained apron, smoking a pipe. His gaze soon fell upon Barok, and he opened a friendly smile.
“Oh, there you are. Did you find your way to our herbalist?”
“I did.” Barok smiled politely. “Thank you for the directions.”
“Don’t mention it. It is quite rare for people to come here looking for him… Usually, it is the contrary, our people recommending him to sick visitors.”
Barok nodded. “I heard about him from a traveling merchant.”
“I see… Good to know his talents are being recognized.”
Unsure of what else to say, Barok simply nodded again. Sholmes lightly patted his shoulder.
“Visit me in my workshop anytime. I might even give you a discount.”
“Thank you,” said Barok. “I will.”
With nothing else to say, Barok returned to his bedroom in the inn. He rarely felt tired at such hours, but that long travel had him drained. So, he lay on the bed, staying there with his eyes closed for a while. Then, overcome by boredom, he took a book from the shelf—which carried a very limited selection of popular fictional stories. Surely enough to keep him entertained until he finally felt like sleeping.
As dawn came, the pain in Barok’s hand almost made him scream. More than two years later, he hadn’t gotten used to it—and maybe never would. He cradled his arm against his chest, unable to hold back his pained pants and grunts.
He just needed to get the witch… Make him leave his hideout, or invite him in. As soon as he did, his torment would finally be over.
I’m so close…
That thought helped him face the pain while it lasted: only a few seconds that always felt like an eternity.
The following evening, Barok returned to the witch’s cabin. He spent the entire walk trying to find an excuse to be there again—and one that could convince the witch to lower his guard and let him in, which was much harder.
In the end, despite not having a proper plan, he still knocked on that door, soon hearing the witch’s response.
“Good evening,” said Barok. “It is me… the same one from last night.”
“Ah.” There was recognition in the witch’s voice. “Is your stomach better?”
“Oh, yes. Getting better already.”
“That’s good. Is there something else you need?”
Barok did his best to keep a casual tone. “No, I just couldn’t stop thinking last night that I should repay you in some way.”
It sounded quite natural. The witch, however, didn’t seem willing to make things easier for him.
“There is no need to,” he said.
“I know, but…” Barok’s mind raced to find new excuses. “I was raised to always repay my debts, no matter how small. If I do not show you my gratitude in some way, I’m afraid the guilt won’t leave my mind.”
There was a long silence, followed by an exasperated sigh.
“Alright…” said the witch. “If it’s bothering you that much, bring me some fresh fruit.”
The simple request caught him off-guard. “Fruit?”
“Yes. But do it tomorrow. It’s late now, and you shouldn’t be out in the cold.”
“Very well.”
Barok was about to step away, but stopped himself. He had to work on winning that witch’s trust… But how?
“Before I leave,” he said, “May I ask your name?”
The witch seemed to hesitate for just a moment.
“Kazuma,” he said. “And you?”
“Barok.”
To his surprise—and relief—when the witch spoke again, his voice was a little softer. “Nice to meet you, Barok.”
“The pleasure is mine. Have a good evening.”
“You too.”
Barok walked away, but instead of satisfaction, that final exchange only brought him confusion. Was he really the witch Stronghart had told him about? Could it be that Barok had followed the wrong trail? Because the man behind that door sounded so… human.
But, following that logic, Barok also looked human to most people. It wasn’t that difficult to hide your true nature once you knew exactly what to conceal, how to act, and the right things to say. Even Barok, who had been a terrible liar his entire life, had quickly gotten used to it.
Don’t be fooled…
If the witch was planning to make him lower his guard, Barok would simply have to use the same tactics against him. And he still had one advantage on his sleeve: he knew about Kazuma’s true nature, but Kazuma didn’t know about his. If things came to a physical confrontation, especially during night-time, Barok was sure he wouldn’t be defeated.
Instead of returning straight to the inn, he made his way into the woods, sharpening his senses to find a suitable animal target to quench his thirst and replenish his forces.
When that witch showed his true colors, he wouldn’t catch Barok unprepared.
The next day, as soon as the sun set, Barok went to the market, looking at the colorful selection of fruits, unsure of which ones to take. It crossed his mind that he should have asked which kind Kazuma wanted; then, quickly, he reminded himself that it didn’t matter, as long as it gave him a chance to get to him.
In the end, he bought some apples and oranges, then searched the bushes near the road for some berries.
“Evening, mister!”
That loud voice startled him. He turned around, only to see Gina on the road, pushing an empty wheelbarrow. Judging by the direction she came from, the girl was probably returning from the witch’s cabin… She waved at him, and Barok responded with a smile.
“Oh, good evening,” he said. “Were you visiting the herbalist?”
“Yeah, I bring him his stuff every week.” Her gaze fell upon the berries in Barok’s hand, and she furrowed her brow, confused. “Kinda late for picking berries.”
“I know.” Barok let out a low, slightly embarrassed chuckle. “It might seem unusual, but I prefer the night. So, I usually sleep during the day.”
“Nah, I get it… Can’t get any sleep before two in the morning. Sholmes is even worse than me… He stays up the entire night working on his stuff, then no one can get him off the bed before noon.”
Despite her exasperated words, the fondness was clear in her voice.
“It sounds like you have your hands full,” said Barok.
“Yeah…” Gina smiled. “But he’s a good guy. Never looks away from anyone who needs, y’know? So I don’t mind taking care of him sometimes.”
She sounded so sincere that Barok couldn’t help but lower his guard.
“You’re a good girl as well, Gina.”
“C’mon, you’ll make me blush like that.” She laughed, seeming pleased. “Anyway, I gotta go now… If you go deeper there, don’t mess with the squirrels, ’kay? They look cute, but they’re devils.”
“I’ll keep this in mind.”
“Catch ya later!”
Barok followed her with his gaze. It was good to see her unharmed. But it made sense that the witch wouldn’t hurt the residents… It would be foolish to turn everyone’s attention to yourself while trying to stay hidden.
If only he had been less careful, Barok would have found him earlier.
He shook his head, then lowered his gaze to the handful of berries on his handkerchief. That should be more than enough… He wrapped the berries with the handkerchief, placing them in the small basket he had bought for the other fruits.
Barok walked that same way toward the cabin, knocking on its door.
“Yes?”
“It is me again,” said Barok. “I brought you the fruits you asked for.”
There was a momentary silence.
“You actually came…?”
The surprise in his voice caught Barok off-guard. “Was I not supposed to?”
“No, I… I just thought you wouldn’t.”
Neither of them spoke for a few awkward seconds.
“Are you taking the fruits, then?” asked Barok.
“Yes, sure.”
He didn’t say or do anything else.
“Can you open the door?”
“Just leave them there,” said Kazuma. “I’ll get them in a minute.”
“Some animal might steal them if I do that.”
Another hesitant silence, until Kazuma finally muttered in a tired voice.
“Alright, then.”
He opened the door, extending a gloved hand out, like he did when he offered Barok that remedy. Barok raised the basket, and its handle was close to Kazuma’s finger’s when a sudden thought crossed his mind. If I pull his hand, instead…
The thought was too tempting for him to ignore. He raised his other hand, holding his breath. He just had to grab his wrist… Pull him out of that damn house. If he was fast enough, he could incapacitate him before he fought back. And then… Then, he would be free.
But he hesitated for a moment too long. Barok moved at the same time Kazuma felt the air for the basket’s handle, and their hands bumped against each other. Kazuma immediately pulled back, and as he did, the basket slipped from Barok’s hand, falling down, its contents rolling to all sides. Barok sighed, frustrated: he should have known that doing things impulsively never ended well.
“Sorry…” Barok leaned down to catch that basket. “I will—”
The words stayed trapped in his throat. He looked at the door, its opening slightly wider than before. And, through that gap, he saw it: the scarred face, the grayish skin, the pointy ears, the golden tinge in the sea of black that were his eyes—the sign of wild magic.
And Barok knew what Kazuma saw in him: skin too pale, piercing red eyes, sharp fangs… Traits that his veil magic could hide from human beings, but not from a witch.
Their eyes met for no longer than a second before Kazuma slammed the door shut, and Barok could do nothing but stay there. Despite his young voice, Barok expected to see a cruel, menacing witch; instead, Kazuma seemed nothing but terrified of him.
And with reason, of course… Especially after that stunt he tried to pull.
“You’re not human, are you?” Asked the voice from inside the cabin. “That’s why you only come here at night.”
Barok gritted his teeth, aware that there was no way to deny it. “You’re right.”
There was a long pause before Kazuma spoke again. “Why did you come here?”
“I don’t plan to drink your blood, or anyone else’s, if that is your concern.”
His voice sounded sharper than he expected, but why did it matter? He had already ruined his chances of doing that the easy way. And he had been so close—so, so close.
“You saw my face, didn’t you?”
Kazuma’s voice made him look toward the closed door. Something about it alerted Barok that it wasn’t over yet. That witch would try to silence him—and Barok, of course, would fight back with everything he had. He got back to his feet, reaching for his knife.
“Yes,” said Barok. “What about it?”
Silence, cold enough to chill Barok’s entire body, long enough for his mind to beg him to run. But he wouldn’t run… If he died there, so be it. He wasn’t going to endure that pain any longer. He would be free, one way or another—and if the price was his death, he would drag that cursed witch to hell with him.
So, he waited for the moment that door would open. Waited, ready to sink his blade into that witch’s heart. Waited, trying to ignore his own fear. Waited, as each second passed, seeming to last an eternity.
But the door stayed closed. Instead, Kazuma’s voice echoed again from the other side, much lower than before.
“Please,” he muttered, “don’t tell anyone you saw me… I’m not hurting anybody, so… please…”
His voice broke, and he said nothing else. Barok tightened the grip on his knife, trying to ignore the trembling of his hands. It’s fake… He is manipulating you… He is…
No… That desperation was real—real enough that Barok could feel it within himself. Barok hesitated, but then, slowly, he lowered his knife. He couldn’t bring himself to believe there was a monster behind that door… Not when he sounded like that.
But… What did that mean for him? He was fine with capturing a monster for his freedom, but… What about trading Kazuma’s freedom for his own? Barok couldn’t deny that part of him was still tempted, but he was quick to bury those thoughts—his brother would be ashamed of him for even considering something like that.
“I don’t plan to,” he answered, finally.
There was no response. Barok lowered his gaze to that basket, then crouched on the ground; one by one, he placed those fruits back inside the basket, until it was full once again.
“I will leave the basket by the door,” he said.
Kazuma still didn’t answer, and his silence stung more than the cursed carvings in his arm ever did.
Barok had little sleep that day, spending most of his time in bed plagued by thoughts of what had happened the previous night, and what he should do next.
However, of one thing he was already sure: taking Kazuma to Stronghart was no longer an option. He had done quite a few regrettable things since he was turned into a vampire, but he wouldn’t use his transformation as an excuse to ruin someone else’s life.
What was he supposed to do, then? Leave? And, if he did, where should he go? He would never step into the capital again, and returning to the north was out of the question as well.
Regardless of where he went, he would never be free of Stronghart’s grasp.
Trying not to think about that, Barok struggled to find the answer, but as the hours passed and the sun started to set, Barok realized it wouldn’t come so easily. So, for the moment, he decided to do the only thing he could: try to make things right, even if just a little bit.
He stepped out of the inn, walking that road toward Kazuma’s place. Barok hesitated briefly, then knocked on the door, and the response took a moment longer than it usually did.
“Who is it?”
Part of him wanted to walk away, but he forced himself to stay in place. “It is me.”
“Barok…?” The surprise in Kazuma’s voice quickly turned into caution. “Why did you come here?”
“I wanted to apologize to you. I was curious to see your face, and… I did something foolish because of it.”
Lies, lies… But what else was he supposed to say? Certainly, anything would be better than the truth. Kazuma didn’t answer for a long while; when he finally did, his voice was low, filled with resentment.
“You tricked me. Under the guise of doing something nice.”
“I know,” said Barok. “It was an impulsive decision… I regretted it soon after I did it.”
“Well, now you’ve seen my face… I hope you’re satisfied.” He went silent, then added in a lower voice. “You really don’t plan to tell anyone, do you?”
“No. You have my word.”
He could hear Kazuma’s relieved sigh from behind that door.
“You did a… very annoying and childish thing.” Kazuma paused. “But the fruits were pretty good.”
Those words made Barok’s chest feel lighter. “Were they?” He couldn’t hold back a slight smile. “I picked the berries myself.”
“Did you? How thoughtful of you.”
Barok didn’t know how to respond. He expected many things from that exchange, but not for Kazuma to, if not forgive, at least not hold his actions against him.
“I’m really sorry,” he said.
“Just forget about it,” Kazuma said in an annoyed tone. “All of it.”
“Very well.” Barok tried, but couldn’t find anything else to say. “I’ll be going now.”
Before he could step away, however, he heard Kazuma’s voice once again.
“Wait, I have something to ask you.”
Barok faced the door again, intrigued. “Yes?”
“How have you been feeding yourself?”
Oh… Of course he would be concerned about that.
“Animals,” he said. “I don’t feed on humans, so you have no reason to worry.”
“That’s good.” Kazuma paused. “But it certainly doesn’t sound good for you. I didn’t even know vampires could feed on animals.”
“I suppose it is not the ideal, but it works well enough.”
Kazuma grunted in what felt like disapproval. Before Barok could say anything, however, he added in that professional tone of his.
“Come back tomorrow and I’ll have something for you.”
The way he said it gave Barok no room for arguing—not that he planned to, anyway.
“As you wish.”
If anything, he was relieved. If Kazuma didn’t mind him visiting once again, then he probably didn’t hate Barok as much as he had feared.
Barok followed Kazuma’s instructions, returning to that cabin the next evening, knocking on his door.
“I came, as you asked.”
“Yes, yes…” Came the impatient response from inside. “Just a moment.”
Barok waited, and a minute later he heard steps approaching. Once again, he didn’t fully open the door, simply offering Barok a glass flask. Barok took it, intrigued by its contents: he expected another herbal mixture, but instead, the vial carried a thick, dark red liquid. It was still warm, its smell enough to make something inside him twist in anticipation.
“Blood?” said Barok. “Where did you get it?”
“It’s mine.”
The response caught him off-guard. “Yours…?”
“I couldn’t just let you continue to drink from rats.”
For some reason, it bothered Barok that that was the image Kazuma had of him. “I’d usually choose boars or deer…”
“That’s not ideal either.” Kazuma sighed. “You don’t need to drink it, but it might do you some good.”
Barok lowered his gaze to that flask. Everything inside him urged him to take that offer, and he saw no good reason to refuse.
“Thank you. I will drink it.”
His hands trembled with anticipation as he opened that flask, bringing it to his lips. The magic in Kazuma’s blood burned his tongue slightly, but that small discomfort wasn’t enough to compete with the strong, hot feeling that traveled down his body. Despite the sharpness of the taste, the effects were immediate: Barok hadn’t realized how weak his body had been until that moment.
“Is everything alright?”
Kazuma’s voice brought him back to reality.
“Yes,” said Barok. “It was… good.”
“Thank you for the unusual compliment,” said Kazuma.
It took Barok a second to realize he had expressed himself badly. “No, I meant… It was good to—”
“I know.”
His voice was accompanied by a small sound that resembled a chuckle. Was he… teasing Barok? Before he could find his answer, Kazuma spoke again.
“Did you empty the flask?”
“Yes.”
“Give it to me, then. I’ll use it again next time.”
Kazuma extended his hand, and Barok carefully placed the flask on it. It took his mind a moment to process what he just heard.
“Next time?”
“Yes,” said Kazuma. “Let me know when you need more.”
A wave of guilt washed over Barok. “You don’t need to do this.”
“I have enough blood to spare.” Kazuma made a small pause. “See this as my way of repaying you.”
“For what?”
“Your visits.”
Barok opened his mouth, but could say nothing. How lonely was that man to welcome the presence of someone who betrayed his trust? The thought made something twist uncomfortably inside Barok, making him unable to ignore those words.
“Kazuma, don’t you…” His words got lost on his tongue. “It is a pleasant night. Don’t you want to… take a walk?”
Kazuma went quiet. Barok’s entire body tensed up as he waited for the answer.
“Sorry,” said Kazuma, “but I…”
His voice died down, as if he couldn’t find a proper way to reject that offer. Barok’s chest weighed with disappointment, though he knew he should have expected that answer.
“No, I understand,” he said. “Forgive me if I overstepped my boundaries.”
No response. Once again, he had acted on impulse, and once again, he had ruined things for it. As his frustration grew, however, he heard Kazuma’s low voice.
“Maybe tomorrow…?”
That answer brought a smile to Barok’s face. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”
Kazuma didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to. Barok wished him a good night, then walked away from the house. His steps were light, his body so full of energy he doubted he would be able to sleep that morning. He wanted to run through the woods, feel the entirety of that incredible sensation for as long as he could.
It made him wonder how much of it was thanks to Kazuma’s blood, and how much was thanks to the man himself.