We haven’t figured it out yet. I’m sure you’re thrilled. Keir said he would hold on as long as possible, for them, for me, for us. I can’t do this. I will not survive this. Please, I’m begging you, stop this madness. Take me instead.
Common Grounds
CARIA
Chapter 12
The whole ordeal still shakes me, the stench of fear, the frenzy. It was a bold, almost rabid charge by the humans on the citizens of Valorya. Their steel guts are nearly admirable if only they didn’t remind me of a kamikaze attack. It was an act of destruction; a goal aiming to exterminate every vampire and Blood Witch that held residence between these thick stone walls. They came prepared, knew what they were doing, and knew the risks of death,their death. Yet, I haven’t seen the reason for their provocative display of courage; none of us have. The suspicions did arise, especially after their blunt display of killing our kind. I heard the gossip, the fright in others' tones as they spoke ofitwhile I worked in the inn.
I hear others talk about it, and the thought alone turns my blood cold, even though I’ve never crossed paths with one, nor do I have such a desire. It explains why none stood up to the humans, fearing what would come to hunt them at night as revenge. Some of them spoke hopefully; perhaps the Umbra that has made its presence known around the city will handle it. I doubt he will. What is there to gain for him? As long as itdoesn’t touch his bride, it will be all right, and I have a hunch it knows about that all too well. No one in their right mind will challenge the Umbra; only those led by emotion or a death wish would make such a slip. For now, all that the Umbra cares for is his bonded human. If it is dumb enough to go after Fynn’s sister, the Umbra will unleash its wrath, but then none of us will be safe; that is a death sentence for all. I’m convinced the Umbra would erase the entire world, scorch every plane if it means it will return her to him. He would seek out every coven and magic practitioner, and he would obliterate each one that could not undo her death. The mere thought makes me shudder. I sit down and recall the event that occurred this afternoon.
Reiner had dragged me along once the notion reached the inn. The city was under attack, and having an inkling this would happen, he told me to let him guide me and to put my trust in him, and myself. We were able to stop the rogue attack and bring it to a temporary halt. Unsurprisingly, my shadows purred around his lethal fog; they enjoyed working together, drawing blood, draining life, and feeding on the essence and fear of the human souls they brutalized together.
After we stopped the vicious assault, Reiner made sure I was safe after I fainted, a side effect of using too much of my power. It became painfully clear that I was still a youngling and required much more training and practice. I wasn’t ready yet to put so much strain on my powers. During our attack, I ignored the signals in my body—the drain I felt—as I reveled in the delight my shadows took and took. Part of me hoped that I would be able to uphold my magic, as long as they feasted.
He returned to the square, took hold of one of the hunter’s corpses, and inhaled deeply, taking in every scent it had to offer, tapping into our generic necromancy magic. Reiner was older and wiser than I, having experienced more of the world'sterrors firsthand. With the audacious slaughter of our kind by the humans, he had a suspicion where their fearlessness came from. He had confided that even he flinched briefly as he picked up that specific scent, a smell he’d run into before in the past, an encounter he’d rather forget about. It was a thing one would hope never to cross paths with.
Dhampir. Reiner shook his head as he told me the scent was unmistakably that of one of them. He hadn’t crossed paths with one in a long time, being able to avoid them, and wished to keep it that way.
The creation of the Umbra species is one of the direct punishments from the Light,Alba Magica, following their defeat during the war that resulted from the imbalance the dark creatures had brought upon this world—a final act of defiance by the White Witches.
But this species, the dhampirs, is a cruel joke, a twisted fate, an abomination by Mother Nature herself. No magic was involved in their creation; it is almost as if she knew something had to be created to prevent a possible future imbalance. Dhampirs are needed because that is precisely what my kind did: they destroyed the fragile balance when they eradicated the Light from this world.
A balance should not be disrupted; if it is, one should try to restore it with all one's might. If you neglect an imbalance, it will find a way to repair itself; the Dark has been careless for over three centuries, and we are paying the price as these species spawn more frequently. I’ve heard of the increasing reports of dhampir sightings and often lethal encounters. All because the vampires cannot resist their humans, with their lust, they participate in the destruction of us darklings. Like I said, dhampirs are a cruel joke.
Just like the Umbra, dhampirs also feed on all species. With each kill, their strength, agility, and ability to withstand magic increases. In addition, a were-creature bite is never lethal for them to begin with; their healing capacities are the same as a vampire's, perhaps even faster.
A scowl forms on Reiner's face as the realization of how bad the news is sinks in. I have heard of these hunter gatherings—these groups—always led by at least one of them, sometimes by multiple dhampirs. They side with humans, as most humans have nothing left to lose in this lifetime, courtesy of us dark creatures, making them reckless and willing to fight. It is in the dhampir's nature to loathe and destroy what is partly responsible for their existence, always half vampire, usually born to a human woman. It does not explain why they also marked the witches as targets; it leaves me wondering.
Reiner says we have to counter the attack tonight while they least expect it, still licking their wounds, weak from their losses, mourning their dead. As he talks to me, my stomach forms a knot; I’m scared, and I feel overwhelmed. Fearful of this Dhampir, my powers, if I have rested enough, my head is spinning. On the other hand, my shadows are buzzing with excitement, giving me goosebumps as they roam and lovingly caress my skin. They want the blood, the screams of terror; it’s what keeps them alive. I give his words thought. I never actively sought out humans solely to kill them for their heinous actions.
I admit to myself that these assholes deserve it. I need to lose the cowardice and harden my heart. Pleas need to fall on deaf men’s ears, just as the pleas of my kind did. I feel numinous; the decision to join Reiner holds so much weight that it’ll affect every aspect of my life. I can’t say no. I must say yes. As my mind races with thoughts, Reiner explains how he wants to take control of the situation. My shadows drink in every word hespills as they coil around me and him in delight; his phrasing resonates to my core. Reiner’s question makes me lose my train of thought, pulling me out of my trance-like state of mind. My eyes flutter as I bring myself into the present.
“What?” I ask, confused.
“Did you see the boy at that fight?” he asks again, irritation seeping through his voice.
“How often do I have to tell you not to call him a boy? He’s not a child,” I retort.
“He’s eighteen; he’s a child, Caria. Now answer the question,” he responds.
“And I’m twenty-three, but let me guess, that’s different, right?” I scoff, “Anyway, no, I hadn’t spotted him near the fight.”
“Why?” I ask impatiently.
I know Reiner well enough to know he’s steering the conversation in a particular direction. I furrow my brows, glaring at him, eagerly awaiting what he has to say about Fynn. Impatiently, I tap my fingers on my arm.
“Nothing. It would make your life more complicated if the boy decides to join a group of Hunters that also target witches, that’s all,” he says nonchalantly and shrugs.
I give him a snarl, and in return, he gives me a cocky grin; my shadows are still swirling around him. He’s right, though; if Fynn were to join that crowd, that could become problematic. I push myself off the bed that he has laid me on to rest. As he lifts his eyebrow and gives me a warning stare, I tell him I feel fine, but I don’t. As I hoist myself up, I see phosphenes and blink a few times to regain normal vision. I’ve never used my magic like that before, and it took its toll on my body, causing a slight tremble at the motion of straightening my back.
I reminisce, feeling that surge of energy coursing through me, taking that first man’s life, letting my magic free to do what it’s designed for—a relief, a feeling of being released froma cage. It is an incredibly powerful sensation. Yet, it is also taxing and exhausting trying to keep some rein on it. I’m unsure what would have happened had Reiner not been there to lead my shadows, let his fog work, and carve the way. The feeling of it all was intoxicating and addictive. My dark shadows pulse with need and desire; every cell in my body wants to storm the human's hideout and terminate them all.
I wonder briefly how the Umbra restrains himself and his powers from destroying every creature that crosses his path wrongly. Because my mind constantly wanders off to thoughts of ripping these humans apart, limb by limb, and seeing their fresh, warm blood color the streets after my first kills. My powers are shuddering through me in anticipation.
A tiny voice in the back of my head tells me they’ll be waiting for us—the humans—they'll anticipate that we will return the favor. We also do not know what sort of weaponry they have available. How many dhampirs are there? Perhaps this is a calculated suicide mission, one to draw out the stronger night creatures. If the strong ones are murdered, it’ll be easier to raid through the rest of the city.
“As much as I want to smell that delicious metallic tang in the air, I think it’d be idiotic to attack them right now. If anything, they most definitely will expect it. These guys are not stupid, Reiner.A dhampiris not stupid, assuming they are led by at least one. This is calculated; if we go tonight, we’ll walk straight into its trap.”
