Chapter Text
Glenn Poeff was seen dragging a corpse out of the graveyard.
That's a stupid lie.
But lots of lies have spread about him in the last year. It's a small town.
Of course, there's also lots of truths.
Like how he barely leaves his home (because he's busy), which is a creepy old castle people believe to be haunted (do you have any idea how expensive it is to maintain to that kind of structure? He'd rather use the funds for his research), located a bit far from the road, a building nobody had lived in for years (it was the only property he inherited after his uncle kicked him out of the family, and that only because he hadn't known of it since it was out of the records).
He's rarely seen during the day (the streets are too crowded), but much more frequently seen at night (it's when the bakeries sell their day old bread with discount, and the air is much cooler). He looks sickly pale (rare sunlight exposure), never eats in front of people (his eating schedule is a bit messed up). He's never invited anyone in the castle (the place becomes a mess when he's on a rush, he's a bit embarrassed).
He's always seen wearing dark shades and colors with one or two brighter tones that seem to pop out. He wore many accessories. And a dark green cape he wore despite occasion (he's always dressed like this because it looks good, alright? And the fact that it was even accounted as evidence was just a failure of society, not his fashion sense).
Receives deliveries but not even the mailman sees him. That one is completely true, the guy gives him bad vibes.
And he reacts badly to garlic. That one doesn't count though. Why would it count as reacting badly if he scowled at a kid who threw a garlic braid at him? It hurt!
As for the dogs barking at him? Might have to do with the cat that follows him around whenever he approaches the town. The little thing appeared out of nowhere when he was close to the road and left after he entered the dirt path to his home. Dogs seemed especially wary of it for some reason.
Alright, he could understand why anyone could think he was a vampire. Plus, the people around here were paranoid about the bloodsuckers because of the family of vampire hunters that lives on the other side of the town. They call themselves their protectors, and people believe it.
And, to be fair, he did go to the graveyard to pick up something. Just not a whole corpse. He only needed the skull of someone who had been buried over a century. It's not like anyone else was going to use it, right?
The townspeople were right about one thing, he wasn't a common person. They just latched onto the wrong term.
He was a mage.
Glenn had spent the last year researching the bases of mortality, permanence of the soul, and the spatial distortions that, for some reason, seemed connected to it. It still has a long way to go, and he isn't going to give up, no matter how long it takes him.
That's exactly why…
"Am I going to have to move…?" His line of thought was interrupted by a rough push of his shoulder, forcing him to walk into the manor he had only seen from afar a few times before. That's right, he was currently being dragged by vampire hunters.
Maybe he should have made himself completely sure the graveyard was empty before taking out a shovel.
Wait a minute, who would have seen him at that hour? Why was nobody suspicious of the snitch?
Oh, whatever, he would figure it out and curse them while being burned at the stake, scare them a bit. He could handle a little fire. It'd be perfect to fake his death. He just wished he could have sold the property before having to die.
Some extra money never hurt anyone.
Could he ask for a trial? Buy some time? Why was he even taken so suddenly? It's not like anyone would step in if these guys wanted to kill him. They basically owned the town.
Still, they had just approached him, bound his hands, and hauled him across the streets like a prize. Had he tried to fight back his capture, they surely would have used it as an excuse to execute him in the middle of the plaza. They had seemed quite eager to get a reaction out of him after all.
"Oh, wow, you people are insane—" He didn't mind saying it out loud now, they were really trying to kill him anyway.
Seriously though, he could understand that 99% of the personality of the Coreza family was killing vampires, but did they really have to exhibit hearts and heads all over the house? Or was it just this hall they were dragging him through? Maybe this is what they showed to the unwilling people they brought inside.
Whichever of the two it was, both showed a level of narcissism and sadism he was sure would make a demon of pride proud. No pun intended. Either way, please at least preserve them correctly. This place stinks.
"You have a dungeon? Really? No way. Let me guess. It's as filthy as the weapons you hang on your walls and as dark as where you shove them." The guy to his right didn't seem amused by that comment, because instead of walking him through the old door he was sent downstairs. The shove, combined with his hands bound to his back, sent him rolling down the stairs before he could catch himself.
That was definitely going to bruise.
As expected, they barely cleaned this place. It was stupidly hot too, investing in some ventilation would be prudent.
Glenn mumbled a bunch of curses while trying to use his knees to lift his torso. His vision blurred for a second and he could feel blood on his face from where he collided with the rock. Then, right when he had managed to lift his head from the ground, he froze.
"Are you okay?"
Fuck.
What was a child doing down here?
He didn't have much time to look around, but he managed to see said child, probably not older than 12, quickly being grabbed and pulled back deeper into the jail. The owners of the hands? Yet another bunch of children ranging 14 and 17. He counted five.
Then he was forced to pay attention to the hunters—no, kidnappers was a better term—that had descended the stairs.
"Don't we have enough?" The one he presumed was the oldest brother was scowling at him, standing with his arms crossed.
"We do," meanwhile, this had been the one to flip him over by pulling onto his tied hands then throwing him back on the ground. Alright, the headache was getting worse, maybe he should kill these guys now. "Too much will cause us trouble."
"I'm right here, you can't just speak like I'm not listening—" Alright, that punch hurt quite a bit. His mouth tasted of blood all over.
"Then we should get rid of the extras. Proverbs warns us, 'He who hoards what is not needed will find it rots in his hands'."
Ah, finally? Well, he could easily put out a flimsy fire, but now that he saw what these bastards were keeping down here, he might have to act earlier than expected.
The one holding him down nodded, pulling out an old stained stake. "Lord, we deliver this excess for your word."
Wait, what?
They were just going to kill him here? In front of the children? Oh, what a bunch of rotten hypocrites.
Glenn's fingers burned a part of the rope behind his back, about to pull his hands free to blow these two idiots out of range, just at the same time the hunter lifted the sharpened piece of wood, a crash coming from the narrow barred window near the ceiling caught everyone's attention.
Nothing could be seen from it, but anyone could tell the chaos had erupted outside. Shouts, followed by the occasional scream and the bang of a firearm echoed in the dark dungeon.
Glenn was sure he had done nothing yet, but whatever was going on out there he was going to use to his advantage.
"Guess you got actual work to do now," not even another punch would erase the mock dripping on his tone.
The mage was debating whether or not get rid of these guys right away as they looked at each other, making a decision. Both sides had more pressing matters now.
Next thing Glenn knew was that the brother that wasn't holding him down had taken a set of keys from his side, while the other hauled him to his feet, dragging him deeper into the dungeons. Glenn held onto the useless rope as his back hit the ground for the nth time today, the metallic lock clicking into place. It would be annoying if they saw he'd freed himself.
"…Hi?" The huddled up kids stayed on the corner of the prison until the rushed steps of the hunters disappeared upstairs. Then they were crowding him and pushing him to sit up, one of them reaching for his hands, only for Glenn to swiftly pull them free with a theatrical wave. "Ta-da!"
The rope fell away and, for a moment, five faces looked at him like he had pulled a pigeon out of his mouth. Not in a funny way.
…
Not the reaction he expected.
"Ta-da…?" Glenn repeated, quieter this time. The older boy was shushing him down, frantically making gestures at the stairs. Right. The hunters. They weren't safe yet.
"How did you do that?" But that didn't stop them from being curious. Or, in this case, wary. The first to speak—a girl, probably around 15, light hair darkened by dried blood near her temple, favoring her right side— was staring at the smoking rope like it might attack her next.
"Magic," Glenn didn't have a problem in admitting it now. This couldn't get any worse anyway, right? Pushing himself, and with some help from the two middle ones who seemed to be in a better condition, he managed to get on his feet, wincing as his torso and back protested. Definitely bruised. He couldn't check now, but he was already craving a warm bath after getting out of this. "Are you all alright? That seems more important."
No one answered immediately.
Up close they looked much worse than he'd thought.
The oldest hadn't approached him, still sitting where she had been since the door had opened, a gash on her forehead that had left a trail of dry blood all the way down her neck. There was a dark stain right below her left shoulder, as if something had been stuck there.
The youngest didn't look too roughened up, but she was trembling the most. The two middle ones, apparently siblings, stuck together while exchanging glances, sharing thoughts as they did bruises apparently.
And the second oldest was the most wary one, constantly checking the stairs and the barred window for any signs of people approaching, while also glancing at Glenn between curiosity and something close to suspicion, holding his arm in a way that told the mage all he needed to know.
Five children in a dungeon the hunters hadn't killed immediately like they had been about to do to him. Whatever it was they needed them for, the kids weren't telling him.
"How long have you been here?" Glenn stretched, hands on his back until he heard a crack.
"This is the second night," the oldest answered, her eyes following him in the darkness. "You're bleeding."
"Yeah, that's what happens when your skin opens." Glenn nodded, approaching the bars to examine them. "I'm fine. You should worry about yourself."
That wasn't entirely a lie. He was perfectly conscious and his limbs, even if bruised, were in a good state. Of course, he was also pretty aware of the sharp pain between his ribs with every breath, as well as of the crimson staining his clothes. Head, hands and knees bleeding was something he could deal with after getting out of here. It was only scratches.
"How'd those bastards get you anyway?" The bars were old, the lock simple. Was it really going to be that easy?
"There were lights…" Glenn was still examining the bars, but his attention was on the youngest kid who, despite her companions' reluctance to giving away information, was spilling everything on who to her eyes was probably the only trustworthy adult around. There was guilt in her voice. "Past the lake. Many of them. I just wanted to see."
"You mean the fair?" Glenn had heard of the festivity taking place on the nearby town. So the kid had been curious.
"We thought we'd be back quickly so we didn't tell anyone." The older boy spoke this time, his healthy hand stroking the youngest girl's head in an attempt of comfort. "But we had a rather unfortunate encounter on our way back."
Glenn's fingers trailed down one of the bars, lingering on the symbols engraved in the metal, his mind recalling memories of all similarities in the books he's read. He could remember some warding spells like that.
He then flicked his finger on one of the horizontal bars. The sound was hollow but something vibrated inside. Salt, most likely. The circle closed when the door did.
A sigh left him as he let his head fall forward. "Someone wouldn't have happened to throw a bag of rice and next thing you knew was that there were silver chains around, right?"
Silence.
"It was actually a net, not rice," the middle boy mumbled, eventually.
Well, damn. The vampire hunters weren't entirely a scam after all, he'd give it to them. They just aimed at a bunch of kids. But, hey, a vampire is a vampire, right?
"Can you all run?" Glenn momentarily drew his attention to the outside, the noise having considerably reduced now. Whatever was holding the hunters back wouldn't last much longer.
The snap of his fingers echoed in the rocky walls as the lock fell away. This trick did seem to get a reaction out of them.
"You are not a—?" The youngest' question was answered with a shrug. He was contemplating making a flyer that explains why he's not a vampire.
"I'm a mage. Ask your parents what that is." The door swung open with a metallic groan that made the children flinch. Glenn stepped outside first, then held it open. "Now, unless you would rather wait for the not-so-kind guys to come back, you need to get up. We're leaving."
None of them moved.
"You're letting us go?" The oldest girl pushed herself to move for the first time, supporting herself on the wall until the older boy approached to help her with his healthy arm, wincing from the effort anyway.
"No, I'm airing the cage." Glenn waved his hands at the open cell, already turning towards the stairs. "Of course I'm letting you go."
"But we are—" The older boy's protest died when Glenn let out a heavy groan. While he could understand their hesitation, they were losing valuable time with this conversation.
"Don't care. Listen here, I don't care if you're a human, vampire, or four penguins in a coat." His voice was sharp but not cruel. At least they seemed to be considering it now. "This is a damn dungeon, owned by lunatics who can't be bothered to properly preserve an organ. If I was going to leave you here, I would have killed those two idiots when they pulled the stake and walked out on my own."
He jerked his thumb at the stairs. "But I didn't. So move."
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·
Getting out of the dungeon was slower than Glenn would have liked.
The two middle kids stayed at the rear, the girl having only a light limp so they should be reliable enough to not fall. The youngest was right in front of them. And the two oldest stumbled every two steps behind Glenn.
Glenn took the lead. The stairs were narrow and old, wood creaking as if to say hi to the guy that had rolled down them minutes ago. The noise from the outside had died down to the occasional shout and the distant clash of a weapon.
Nothing was heard from the house itself, but that didn't mean they had time to be careful. If the hunters were back soon, they would surely check the dungeon first.
He made sure all the kids were out into the hall before starting to move again. This time, three sets of footsteps were approaching from the opposite end of the hall.
"Keep moving," Glenn said quietly, giving the youngest girl to the middle of the group. "Straight ahead, don't look back. To the end of the hall, one right and one left. That's the front door."
"And you?" The oldest boy adjusted his grip on the girl.
"I'll catch up. Go."
As the kids' uneven steps got farther, the heavier ones grew closer. They rounded the corner. The two from before and a woman with a crossbow raised at him, the other two reaching for blades.
Glenn didn't wait for them to speak, throwing up his hand. A barrier of wind shot straight at them, slamming them against the wall. The crossbow went off, the arrow whistling close to Glenn's head and breaking through a gas lamp on the wall.
"Oh?" A glint appeared in Glenn's eyes. It had been a long time since he had used magic for anything that wasn't casual.
He started calmly walking in the direction he had given the children.
For when the hunters regained their footing, Glenn had already lifted his hand, and the glass of all the lamps exploded. The house was pulled into darkness. Within seconds, wind magic led the gas and pressurized it into the hall.
"This amount should be enough." Glenn snapped his fingers, and there was a spark behind him.
He smirked as brief flames took over the hall. That should hold them back for a while. If they didn't run to shut down the gas supply soon, another spark would be enough to set more than just the carpet on fire.
Judging by the sound of the shouts at his back, they should have noticed too.
Then his smirk faded and his steps accelerated, remembering that the hunters weren't the only ones still in the house, and the fire wasn't going to just stay in that hall.
Luckily, the kids were already at the door, but were quite unsuccessful at trying to open it. There must be silver and other wards on it.
And it was also locked.
"Step back," Glenn's voice behind them made them jump. Then Glenn himself jumped a bit when he heard steps behind him, glad that the darkness wouldn't let the kids read in his expression how he might or might not have fucked up back there.
Damnit, had one of the hunters followed him anyway?
His hands found the knob and he led his magic to the lock.
Before he could open it, the door shook violently as a boot kicked from the other side.
Glenn immediately gave a step back, pushing the kids out of the way, looking between the hall where one of the hunters caught up with them and the door that was barely holding back against—
Bang!
Nevermind, the door is gone.
The wood splintered and fell, moonlight flooding in behind the silhouette of the person standing on the other side. Glenn didn't have time to think whether it was friend or foe as the hunter from the hall was already at him. The kids screamed and he reacted the same way.
A burst of magic sent the man into the far wall, probably knocking over a vase that shattered against the floor. At the same time, the figure stepped through the doorway, and Glenn swung without thinking.
He ground his teeth when his knuckles connected with something that felt like he had just punched a marble statue. He clutched his hand to his chest, giving a stomp on the ground to hold back any more curses as he finally looked up.
The man in the doorway stood frozen. He was just a bit taller than Glenn, broad shoulders covered by a coat that probably had received what the sword in his hand had pulled out of people, dark blue hair tied low, and glasses that had been recently wiped from blood.
Behind him, the courtyard was littered with bodies. Still breathing, but probably because there were too many to ensure they died before moving onto the next.
Then the man turned his head slowly.
Green eyes caught the moonlight and, for a moment, Glenn could swear they glowed. If he didn't trust his vision, he would trust the shiver going down his spine. They narrowed, giving the mage a sharp look, trailing down to the fist he held against his chest, then at the children huddled behind him, and then back at his face.
"You…" The man's voice was low, as cold as his eyes, until it wasn't. His brow furrowed and his head tilted, sharpness changing into confusion, then recognition. His expression shifted from annoyance to surprise.
Then the man started laughing. It was an incredulous laugh that quickly evolved into something a little less controlled as the man brushed his hair back. "You have got to be kidding me!"
He seemed to be talking to the universe itself.
In the meantime, Glenn was still shaking out his hand and catching up on the fact that the man he had just punched wasn't trying to kill him. In fact, he was laughing like he had just heard the joke of the week. "Do I know you?"
Bud completely ignored his question, looking over Glenn's shoulder at the hunter that had managed to pull himself up at some point, pulling out a sword that he presumed was made of silver. "You—"
"Me." The man's eyes turned sharp again, his voice dripping with mocking politeness. "May I come in?"
Glenn opened his mouth to say 'you're already inside, you lunatic', but the man was already stepping past him. The hunter barely had time to pull his sword up before the handle of Bud's sword smacked him on the neck, sending him down.
"Right, then." Wiping his sword in the air to shake away the blood and sheathing the blade, he finally turned around, offering them a dramatic bow. "Evening, little leeches! Missed me?"
"Leader!"
"Bud!"
"Sir!"
Glenn couldn't quite make out all of what the kids were saying. It was like a chorus of baby birds, all yelling in different tones at the same time. But at least he could understand this person was familiar to them.
Bud approached them again, this time giving each one a long look, humming to himself and giving occasional nod. Then he brought his fist to his palm, having reached a verdict.
"You all look like shit." Why was he saying it so cheerfully though? "Good news is, shit heals. Bad news is, it won't heal if you're the dead type of shit. So we gotta get going. Now. Any broken bones?"
The older boy shrugged, regretting it as that made pain shot through his arm. "I can walk. But Leo can't put weight on her knee, and Ari—"
"I can walk!" The girl who had been leaning on her brother straightened up to prove it, to which Bud only ruffled her hair and pushed her back to her brother.
"Alright, we'll figure it out. And!" The sudden turn made Glenn jump. "Allow me to introduce myself. Name's Bud Illis, king of a very respectable non established territory, slayer of—"
"There he is!" Three other hunters had appeared from a different hall this time, one loading a shotgun while the one who shouted aimed a crossbow at him.
"—of people that interrupt me. Fuck, do you not have any other hobbies?" The woman fired at Bud's head. He just turned his head a bit, the arrow missing his ear by a hair. Despite easily avoiding it, he still let out a high pitched yelp, staggering to the side and nearly stumbling on the broken door. That pulled a little giggle from the youngest girl. "Crossbowing, apparently. Nice shot!"
Glenn's body locked up when he saw the man with the shotgun pull it up, while the other hunter charged at Bud with an axe. The mage lifted his hand and the shotgun was snatched from the man's grip, thrown somewhere out the door.
"Bud!" Glenn shouted as the other dodged the attack from the hunter, then grabbed the arm holding the axe and used his weight as leverage to throw the hunter aside.
"Kinda busy here—" Bud then dashed towards the woman with the crossbow, sidestepping at an arrow and spinning a kick at her side that sent her crashing against the staircase.
"There's gas in the air!" That finally seemed to make everyone halt. Bud's head turned quickly and even the hunters looked at him. "Ahem. I might have broken the lamps and let the gas fill the halls, I don't know if those two have closed it yet…"
The man whose shotgun had been snatched pulled his hand back from the gun holster and went to grab a knife instead.
"You filled an 80% wood house with gas? While you were inside?!"
"It seemed like a good idea at the time! Not my fault these guys live in a standing fire hazard!"
Bud, who now seemed genuinely alarmed, hadn't stopped grinning. "It was a fantastic idea! Shit—!"
He ducked just as the hunter tried slashing at his throat, but this time he didn't bother on returning the attack, not paying attention to the other two hunters recovering either. Instead, he was back at the kids' side, carrying the girls who couldn't run each with an arm over his shoulder. "Complain later. Run now. Run!"
Glenn didn't need to be told twice.
He scooped up the youngest girl and shoved the two boys ahead of him. Bud was already through the broken doorway, moving over the fallen hunters with an ease that made no sense for someone his size while carrying extra weight.
"Don't go to the road, it's open field!" Bud shouted over his shoulder.
"You think I don't know that?!" Glenn yelled back, already feeling his lungs burn.
The he saw the two boys sprint past him. They were injured, probably starved, and still much faster than a fully grown mage that apparently had forgotten to do physical training at least once a week. Bud was already disappearing by the treeline with a speed Glenn's legs couldn't hope to match.
Bud was also—Glenn wasn't sure if to feel humiliated or thankful for this—slowing himself down and occasionally glancing back. Waiting for anyone to not be left behind.
Right. Vampires and their stupid supernatural speed.
Glenn, meanwhile, was pretty much human. One that had been punched, kicked down stairs and probably had a concussion brewing. Forgive him if he's a bit out of breath.
He adjusted his grip on the girl. She was looking at him with an expression between pity and concern. An expression he chose to ignore while making a mental note to resume the cardio he'd abandoned during his year of isolation.
Then came the first gunshot. The bullet whistled past his right ear, and he let out a little squeak, picking up the pace as much as he could without tripping over any roots. The girl in his arms buried her face against his shoulder.
Behind them, the shouts had come back. Steps crushing dry leaves and eating up the distance.
Glenn risked a glance. Two hunters had made it through the front yard and followed them into the woods. The trees were thinning ahead, and they would soon enter open ground again. Easy target.
"Agh! I hate that family!" His feet skidded through the dirt as he suddenly halted, shoving the girl toward the middle boy who had turned back in concern. "Keep going. Don't stop."
"But—"
"Now!"
The mage didn't wait for any more arguments, turning to face the direction of the approaching lanterns, already raising a hand.
And the ground moved. Roots and rocks broke through the surface and turned the terrain into a harsh landscape, the sounds of struggle and tripping came immediately. Then, before the hunters could return their attention to them, Glenn was already moving his fingers in a different pattern. An illusion.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then the hunters caught movement to the right, heading deeper into the darkest part of the forest.
"After them!" Glenn allowed himself just a few seconds of watching the hunters pick themselves up and almost trip a few times before he continued heading in the opposite direction.
'Did they really leave me behind?!' He had excellent night vision, but he couldn't see any movement ahead. Had they given up on him making it out the moment he stopped? He knew he said he'd catch up, but it wasn't an invitation for them to just disappear.
'Fantastic. I'm going to die alone in a forest because a bunch of vampire children ran faster than me.'
Maybe he should look for the direction of the town instead. Find somewhere to hide. Come back for his research later…
Just as his steps slowed down a bit, enough for him to try to recognize his location, an arm hooked around his waist and hauled him off the ground. Another arm went under his knees.
Glenn yelped—he was getting really tired of making that sound—and his reflex was to throw a punch.
"Ow! Would you stop hitting me?" Bud's voice was right in his ear, laughing despite the fist that had just connected with his collarbone. "You have a heavy hand."
"Put me down!"
Bud didn't acknowledge his order. Instead, he started moving faster, the tress blurring past, making Glenn momentarily close his eyes against the wind, wincing at the pain of his ribs reminding him of his current state. "The kids are fine. I left them with one of my people. I had to come back for you though."
"I didn't ask for you to come back—"
Again, he was ignore. The blue haired man was smirking while looking ahead. "You're too slow, mage. Cute, but slow."
Glenn's face burned. He wasn't sure if it was from the running that left him breathless, the embarrassment of today's events, or the fact that this lunatic was carrying him like a sack of flour while laughing.
"You'll be okay." Bud's tone was too casual, as if they weren't fleeing through a dark forest with hunters trying to track them. "I'm sorry in advance about your house catching fire, though."
"What?!"