The mage reached him, gave a completely unnecessary bow.
“Elizabeth Barley, at your service,” she murmured. “I apologize for the behavior of those people.” The pause was very long, as if she had been thinking of saying something completely different.
“Don’t apologize, it’s not your fault,” Vincent replied.
“But it is my responsibility. The academy and the integrity of its students are things I take very seriously. It’s my duty.” The girl, Elizabeth, straightened up. “My job, besides, someone has to do it. It disgusts me to know there are still people like that, lurking in the hallways. If it were up to me, I’d expel them all. No exceptions, no tolerance. There’s no reason to accept the degradation of quality standards just because new heroes are always needed. Quality is better than quantity.”
Elizabeth sighed and pushed her hair back with one hand, away from her eyes.
“But you’re a first-year student, I shouldn’t bother you with this kind of thing. You’re Vincent, right? Yes, the famous dragonslayer,” she asked with a slightly ironic smile.
“Ayame did most of the work,” Vincent admitted.
Elizabeth nodded, seeming pleased.
“Can you tell me what was happening here? Why were they going to beat you up?”
“You don’t know?” Vincent asked, incredulous.
“Of course not. How would I know?”
“Well, you were already here, weren’t you? You stopped the spear so quickly, so easily, as if you were prepared. It wasn’t just a coincidence, was it? You knew what was going to happen and came here to wait.” He sounded unsure, but it was too strange. It had to be that, it couldn't be pure chance.
“Sorry to disappoint you.” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “But I have no idea. I was just passing by when I saw what they did to you. Pure chance.”
“Wait, how did you get in then? I didn’t hear the door.”
“Through a couple of walls, of course.”
Vincent swallowed. What a casual way to say something so incredible. He hadn't heard a sound of crumbling, so she must have passed through the walls like a damn ghost, turning tangible and intangible at will. Mages were cool. He wished he had been born a mage, at least.
“Maybe you’ve already heard, but in our first combat class…”
“You gave Paul a beating.”
“Yes.”
“Did you go a bit too far, and his friends wanted to return the favor?”
“Partly, I suppose. But mostly, it’s about my partner.”
Elizabeth shook her head, exasperated.
“Unbelievable that so many people are still against vampires these days. They don’t even need human blood to live anymore. I don’t know what more they want. Will you accompany me? Well, it’s a bit late. I won’t bother you anymore on your first day. Tomorrow, come to the Student Council office so I can draft a report and you can give your testimony.”
“Haven’t I given it to you already, Madam President?”
“Call me Elizabeth, that’s all. And yes, you have, but these things are better formalized. Come tomorrow.” It wasn't a suggestion; it was a clear order.
Vincent nodded.
“Right, okay. Okay, Elizabeth. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
“Likewise. I’ve never been so close to a dragonslayer.”
“It wasn’t even a real dragon.”
“But it was the closest thing the faculty of the best academy in the world could come up with before scrapping the idea.” Elizabeth shrugged.
“That’s impressive enough for me. More than enough. Anyway, see you tomorrow, Vincent.”
“See you tomorrow.”
Elizabeth turned and left the room. Vincent was nervous, but at least it seemed he hadn't completely messed up. Elizabeth Barley, the Student Council President. Someone who cared about the school and what happened within it, beyond training, glory, and mere statistics.
That sounded promising. He had to tell Ayame about this.
***
He went to his room. He didn't have to go far. After all, it was in the same hallway.
Ayame was already in bed. She sat up, rubbing her eyes. One of the straps of her nightgown slipped down her shoulder. She was drowsy, but even so, Vincent looked away.
He didn't want to act like an idiot. Always.
“You took a long time,” she said.
“Yeah… I’ll explain now.”
Vincent went into the bathroom to change into his pajamas.
“I’m listening.”
Vincent sat on his bed.
“You see, I was attacked. Almost. The student council president stopped them.”
Ayame nodded.
“I’m glad nothing happened to you, for whatever reason.”
“Paul’s friends,” Vincent admitted. “More people who don’t like vampires very much, but are too cowardly to face you directly.”
The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.
Ayame smirked, mockingly.
“Yes, those kinds of people are usually like that. Gutless.”
“Even with me, they weren’t very brave. Five against one.”
Ayame threw her head back, laughing. She had a very sweet, melodious laugh. Although that wasn't the point, of course.
“I’m glad you’re taking it this way, but I don’t find it funny that so many people wish you ill.”
Ayame adjusted the strap of her nightgown after looking at it as if she had just realized what happened. There wasn’t a hint of embarrassment in her expression or in the sparkle of her eyes, however.
“Yeah, well… It’s not ideal, but as long as they don’t have the guts to lay a hand on me, they can be as hostile as they want. What worries me isn’t me. It’s you.”
“I can manage…” he lied.
“I know. But it’s a problem that they dare to try, despite the dragon incident and Paul. Because sometime, even if only by chance, they might succeed.”
“I’m the one worried about you. Don’t turn things around.”
“We worry about each other, Vincent,” she said, pointing a finger at him and then at herself. “That’s what being a team is about. And right now, I’m not the one who deserves more concern.”
He couldn’t say anything, protest, because she was right.
“You said the president’s name was…” Ayame began.
“Elizabeth. But I didn't say it to you,” Vincent replied.
Ayame nodded.
“Okay. And do you really think she cares about this? Wasn’t she just worried about you?”
“She told me she couldn’t understand prejudiced people, like those guys. It didn’t make sense. And I think she was being sincere.”
“Okay. I believe you.” Ayame shrugged. “She might be willing to help us to a certain extent, but if she had to help everyone who hates vampires, or is simply uncomfortable with us… the academy would soon be quite empty. Yes, I know what you’re going to say. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t do anything. I agree. I’m just saying.”
“Okay. I feel calmer now.”
“We’d better talk about this in the morning. It’s a bit late, and we have to get up early. School day. Vampire or not, I don’t lead a nocturnal life, you know?” Ayame smiled.
He liked that she handled all this with a certain humor, despite everything, though it also frustrated him a bit. Because it felt like he was much more worried. But deep down, he knew it was just a feeling.
She could act like that, but everyone had their ways of coping with life. And racism was something that affected her directly and personally. She was the one really in danger. Not him.
He shouldn’t get the wrong idea and act like a complete asshole.
“Okay. In the morning. Good night.”
“Good night, Vincent. Thank you for being so good to me.”
“I haven’t done anything special yet.”
“You have for me.”
Tranquility. He wasn't sure if he even knew what that word meant. He had been different since birth; while others happily followed the path dictated by their class without even questioning it (why bother when it was the easy path, and few people truly liked challenges, no matter what they said?), he had always felt out of place, restless. As if he wanted to go somewhere, though he didn't know where; as if he had always been convinced he was destined for something more, something better. But what exactly was better?
He came from a family of blacksmiths and tailors. They weren't exactly rich; there were no rich people in backwater villages like that, but compared to their neighbors, they did very well. They hadn't gone hungry, not a single winter, and when he grew older, he would have surely inherited a business that had been running for generations. He wouldn't have had to worry about his job, or putting food on the table, or his children going hungry someday. Stable, secure, but ultimately a predetermined life. That was the one thing he had never been able to tolerate. So, in the end, he hadn't stayed put; he had denied himself that ordinary happiness to dive into danger.
In a sea of blood. He was floating in the sea of blood.
The sky was tinged scarlet, like a mirror reflecting the water's surface. It wasn't that it was dusk; it was a profoundly unnatural color for the sky. Anyone who saw it would realize instantly. It wasn't a sky, no. But that was the least of it, in the end, because slender yet strong hands closed around his throat.
They tightened, but it didn't stop there. The hands pushed his head under the water.
His heart should have exploded with panic, but Vincent felt strangely calm. He didn't even resist. His vision darkened as he lost oxygen, and still, he didn't resist. That didn't mean he wasn't afraid, that he didn't care about his life. He simply didn't resist. He simply didn't resist.
So the outcome was inevitable. The moment darkness would claim everything…
“Vincent.” A voice and a hand shaking him gently woke him. It was his only roommate, naturally. She was looming over him, already dressed.
“Good morning,” Vincent said simply, feeling a bit stupid. It was the first thing that came to his mind.
“Good morning. I told you we’d talk about it tomorrow, but there’s not much to talk about. Listen, you see, I have a plan.”
Vincent listened.
This was his stats screen.
——————————————————————————————
Stats:
- Strength: 16
- Dexterity: 10
- Constitution: 12
- Intelligence: 11
- Wisdom: 9
- Charisma: 8
——————————————————————————————
He hadn't leveled up again since the dragon, naturally; not much time had passed, nor had he done anything significant. Two more points invested in strength. Maybe he should have used them to ensure he could take hits better. Maybe, but what was done was done. And killing whatever stood in his way faster wasn't bad either. The best defense is a good offense, right? The question was whether it would serve him for this. Vincent believed. He would give it his all in any case.
All day, every day, he had to give it his all. Because he wasn't where he was supposed to be. Every day was a… it entailed the need to prove to himself that he was worthy.
But those scumbags weren't where they were supposed to be either. This was supposed to be an academy to train champions of light, heroes. Not bullies. If the faculty wasn't willing to deal with the problem, they would.
The next day, after classes.
“I’m surprised you had the guts to stand up to us,” said one of the idiots. One of the five who tried to attack him yesterday and then ran off with their tails between their legs. His name was Jim. Vincent had learned their names and faces and more about them for the purpose of destroying them.
They were in one of the combat arenas open to students for training. The spectator seats were packed because, of course, it was a necessity: you didn't just learn by fighting but by observing, right? Besides, teenagers were teenagers, how could they miss a good fight? The field was set to humiliate them publicly.
“Not saying anything?” asked a second one. His name was Brian. “Cat got your tongue?”
“Ayame,” Vincent said.
“Ayame got your tongue?” Brian continued. “Nobody wants to know what kind of filthy things you do with the... vampire,” he said finally, though he had clearly been about to say something very different.
Even if he had been stupid enough to call her a monster in general or something like that, in front of so many people, Ayame would have more or less saved his ass. Because Ayame dropped from the ceiling, landing elegantly on her knees, right behind Vincent. She stood up and took a step forward, positioning herself beside him. She had been hidden the whole time in the darkness and the ceiling beams.
“What the hell…” More than one looked up, as if wondering how she could have done that, how no one had noticed until now.
“Instead of my partner doing a one-on-one against you five, let’s lighten things up,” Ayame said. “Five against two, right here, right now. What’s wrong? Are you going to chicken out?”
None of the five answered.
“President Elizabeth,” Ayame continued. “There’s no problem with the change, right?”
Yes, the president was there too, to one side of the arena, arms crossed. She seemed distracted, fiddling with a lock of her red hair, not even looking at them.
“Of course there’s no problem, as long as the opponents accept, naturally.”
“We accept,” Jean said, slowly and after a moment. What else could they do? Refuse to fight with a numerical advantage because they were scared shitless?
“Very well, then let the duel begin,” Elizabeth said. “I shouldn’t have to say it, but I will: the rules must be followed. I will not tolerate the slightest slip-up. That is my mission as student council president.”
It was almost scary. Almost mostly because her hostility wasn’t directed at him.
“We understand,” said Vincent and a few of those guys at the same time.
“Very well. 10… 9… 8… 7… 6… 5… 4… 3… 2… Go!”