Vampires. Mages who opened themselves up to magic too fully. When their own life force is no longer enough to sustain their magic, mages either die, or fall and become vampires. A vampire has no life force of their own and instead constantly pulls in energy from other sources. Plant life, animals, and people.

Raim’s fall happens in a single moment, but the full scope of the consequences has to be puzzled out. Physically, only his eyes are different, and he acts the same as usual. He’s more subdued, but that’s to be expected. Many of their comrades died in the battle, and Raim isn’t unaware of his new condition.

Val spends the most time with him, so he’s the first to notice just how much energy Raim can suck out of a person. It takes about two hours in Raim’s company for a mage to faint. Less than that for a non-magical person. If Raim sits with everyone at meals, the people near him become weak and nauseous. He causes headaches for some, overwhelming fatigue for others.

Raim isn’t fooled when Val tries to hide his own reaction. He doesn’t protest when Val lies to him about it, he just sits there and looks sad. Then hides somewhere to be alone.

Once, Val finds him crying under their secret tree. Raim is on his knees, bawling like a baby, and the tree is dead, as is all the plant life around it.

Raim lets Val hug him for the first time since his fall, then. His skin is so cold.

“I want to die,” he moans into Val’s shoulder. “Die and be reborn and wake up from this nightmare.”

Val clutches him more tightly.

Vampires can’t die.

*

They install Raim in a small cottage near Rind, a mining town directly downriver from Bonehelm. Val visits as often as he physically can without endangering his health, which turns out to be about every two weeks.

He spends the rest of his time in Wyrn, poring over fat tomes in the College’s library. He talks to everyone he can think of who might have any idea as to how to cure vampirism. Or anyone who might have spent a thought or two on the subject. He doesn’t learn anything of use.

He asks Lutila for a meeting.

“You want to speak to a vampire,” Lutila repeats after him, slowly. He frowns. “What will that accomplish?”

Jary paces a circle in Lutila’s office. “Nothing, if I speak to just any vampire. But an old one might know something.”

“Or not.”

“Or not, but it’s not like there’s only one old vampire in the world. I can keep asking.”

Lutila sighs, exchanges looks with Gin who, despite Val’s protests, perches on Lutila’s desk.

“Do you want me to help?” Gin asks. There’s kindness in his voice which Val has never, ever heard from him before.

He balks. “Not particularly.”

“It’s not like we’ll try to stop you,” Lutila says. “But if you want my opinion, you need to stop acting so…”

“Erratic,” Gin supplies.

“Right. I’m glad you’re trying to help my brother, and I don’t disagree with your idea, but look at yourself. I don’t believe you’ve slept in days.”

Val growls, which surprises him enough to stop his pacing. He’s not sure where that came from. “Look,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair. It feels oily. “I know. I’m not blind, I know I’m not in a good place. But sitting around won’t help me.”

Lutila and Gin exchange another look.

“Fine,” says Gin. “Pack. We will go tonight.”

“I said I don’t want help.”

“Deal with it.”

He’s grateful, despite himself, despite his reluctance to spend any time alone with Gin. They never got along, especially after Val and Raim made their relationship known, but Gin is one of the most skilled mages in Lutila’s House. Perhaps the most skilled. And Val is too distracted to hunt alone.

*

They spend the first two months gathering information, shaking down less reputable establishments in towns off main trade routes. It’s a risk to the House, but they both know what’s more important. They get some leads. Val sneaks in a little research when he can’t sleep.

Mostly, he’s grateful he has something to occupy his thoughts.

He still visits Raim when he can. They stay on opposite sides of the little cottage and talk about everything but the situation. Raim looks fine. Perfectly healthy. He says he’s not sleeping, but it doesn’t have much of an effect on him. The lucky bastard.

When Val can’t visit, he sometimes observes from afar. Watching Raim go about his day is the most heartbreaking thing, because Raim spends hours lying on the grass or the roof of the cottage and looking at the sky. Val’s never known him to be idle. There’s defeat in the slump of his shoulders, grim acceptance in the set of his mouth.

It’s so wrong.

Life slowly dies around the cottage. Trees lose their leaves, grass yellows and dries. Animals avoid the area, even insects. The quiet must be torture.

*

They corner a vampire in Rind, of all places, so close to Raim’s cottage. She turns out to be over a century old. Laughs in their faces at the mention of a cure. Gin almost loses his patience and starts a fight, but Val stops him.

“It’d be good if she spread the news about what we’re doing,” he says. “Maybe something will turn up that way.”

As they are leaving the alley they ambushed the vampire in, she calls after them.

“It gets better. Give it time. It’ll never be the same, but - it gets better.”

Val doesn’t look back at her. He won’t wait a century.

*

He wakes up screaming in the middle of the night sometimes, reaching for another body. Then stumbles away from camp to calm down away from Gin’s annoyed glares.

He’s losing his patience, Val knows. They’ve questioned a dozen vampires and not a single one had an answer to any of Val’s questions. Soon enough, Gin is going to go back to Wyrn or Bonehelm, because that’s the sensible thing to do.

*

It happens sooner than Val expected. Lutila asks him to go back to Bonehelm as well.

“We’re stretched very thin,” he says. “I hate sending you into battle without your focus, but there’s really no choice at this point.”

Val, sitting in a chair on the opposite side of Lutila’s desk, laces his fingers together. “What about Raim?”

“What about him?” Lutila’s voice is tired. They are all tired of the subject, of the hopelessness of it all. And of Val’s stubborn attempts to do something about it.

“Your brother has been stuck in that cottage for over half a year. Cure or not, he can’t stay there forever.”

“I know. I asked him whether he wanted to fight or travel or… do anything really. He said he was fine where he was.”

“He’s given up. I’ve seen it. Doesn’t mean we should let him.”

Lutila throws his hands up. “Then talk to him! Convince him to leave, or go with you, I don’t care. I can’t help him and I need to focus on running the House. I can’t…”

“Fine,” Val decides. “I’ll get him out to Bonehelm. Not many people are stationed there anymore, right?”

“No.”

Val wonders how many graves he’ll find. He’s sure Lutila pulled out most of the less skilled mages, but their House was never popular. Few new faces appeared in the last several years, partially due to the House’s ongoing assignment in Bonehelm.

The border with the Desert Sea is guarded by a long chain of fortresses, each protecting part of the spell that creates a magical wall the sand creatures can’t cross. Should too many of these fortresses fall, the wall will go down. Bonehelm isn’t special, except it seems to be the weak link in the eyes of the sand creatures, because they attack it often and with the most vigour.

“I never understood how you can send Gin out there on his own,” Val comments.

Lutila shrugs. “He’s my focus and I trust him when he says he can handle it.”

“Good for you,” Val says, clenching his fists.

*

“We’re going back to your favourite place in the world,” Val announces, throwing open the door to Raim’s cottage.

Raim springs up from the bed and rolls to his feet. His movements are smoother than they used to be. “I’m going to tell you no, but you might as well explain why someone thought this was a good idea.”

“It was my idea, unless your brother is playing mind games again. You never know with him.”

“Why?”

“Why not? Someone has to go and keep Gin from getting killed. And you can’t die.”

“Is it really wise to put a vampire anywhere near the wall?”

Val shrugs. “We’ll see, I guess.”

That throws Raim off. He takes a step forward, raises a hand - then catches himself and backs off. “Hey now. I always knew you hated Bonehelm, but you care about keeping Io safe, right?”

Val throws a backpack at him. “Look. Lutila agreed to this. If it doesn’t work, you can come back here. I promise to monitor the wall very closely.”

“Didn’t answer my question.”

Val just stares him down. Since his fall, Raim hasn’t been very good at looking people in the eye.

*

The wall doesn’t crumble when Raim and Val arrive in Bonehelm. They stop dead in their tracks, though, because the place looks like a battlefield. They came up through the town and found it completely empty. The fortress itself seems to be manned only by a handful of mages. There are dents in walls and roofs, even in the floors, and bloodstains everywhere.

They find Gin gazing calmly at the Desert Sea from the edge of the cliff.

“Yo, latecomers,” he greets them without turning around. “Get settled in quick. We haven’t had an attack for a whole day and a half. Bound to happen soon.”

Raim looks horrified. Val, on the other hand, doesn’t experience any strong emotions. Maybe it’s shock.

“Does Lutila know how bad it is here?” he asks.

Gin grins over his shoulder. “Sure. I give him all the details.”

Val knows he should bristle and immediately write a proper report. He doesn’t.

“Right. I’ll take our old room. Raim, I think the western tower is the most isolated.”

*

A vampire in battle is a thing to behold. Raim keeps up with Gin now, and doesn’t seem to get tired. He’s also picked up a neat new trick - if he gets close enough, he can suck magic right out of the sand golems and turn them into dust. All it takes is a touch and the span of a breath.

Soon enough, most of the other mages leave. Some have crippling wounds and would be useless in battle anyway, but many simply want to be as far away from the vampire as possible.

Val gets it. He can feel Raim’s pull on his magic at all times, and the best thing he can compare it to is a cold, clammy touch.

*

They talk less despite being in each other’s company more often. Val chalks it up to Bonehelm’s atmosphere. He still does his research in secret. He doesn’t get anywhere with it.

One night, he makes a decision.

He invites Raim over for drinks. They end up on the roof of the western tower with a bottle of watered down wine. They make quirk work of it and end up sprawled next to each other, gazing at the sky.

“I want you to know,” Val begins. “That I’ve been looking into vampirism. Trying to find a cure. I didn’t really make any progress, but I’m going to keep trying.”

Raim gives him an unreadable look. “You need to find a new focus. Have a life.”

“You’re right here.”

That seems to choke Raim up. His eyes might even be wet. “Seriously, Val. This is how it is now. Stop lying to yourself.”

“I’m not. If I thought I could leave you behind, I’d do it.”

“That right there? That’s the lie.”

Val pushes himself up and leans over Raim. Puts a gloved hand to his cheek. “What would you know?” he murmurs, and kisses him.

It’s a brief, cold punch to the gut. The shock of how much magic Raim can drain in so little time. Val let himself forget.

He pulls back, gulps and shivers, lies back down.

“Anyway,” he says, slightly shaky. “The point is, I don’t want you to think I’ve given up or something. That’s stupid. I don’t give up.”

“Yeah, you’re a fighter,” says Raim, sounding strange.

Val nods. “Damn right. Remember that.”

*

The sand golems are three headed hydras this time. Their long, snake-like necks are ridiculously flexible and nimble. A mage goes down in front of Val’s eyes before he can react, just because she stepped on a fallen comrade’s torn off arm and lost concentration momentarily.

Val doesn’t have that problem. These days, his mind works with perfect clarity. Ever since he made the decision, he has felt at peace. Eager, even, to go through with his plan.

He waits until most of the golems have been dealt with. His spiders are doing a good job pinning down the hydras. As long as one keeps in mind the reach of those necks, taking them down isn’t so difficult.

Which is why Val has to look for a good opportunity. It comes in the form of another mage, already badly wounded and barely holding her own. Fiali, if he remembers right. She and Raim were friends, before.

Val hovers, waits until she makes a mistake - and pushes her out of the way of a snapping hydra head. He cries out when teeth the length of his forearm sink into his torso. Bone cracks, blood gushes. The pain is awful, but only for a moment.

Someone is calling his name. Fiali? Raim? Val can’t tell over the ringing in his ears.

He closes his eyes.