Valkyrie's Shadow

Chapter 18

“What’s this?” Lady Shalltear asked.

In the hall of her manor, Ludmila presented the crystal decanter, its crimson content unchanged from when she had filled it.

“A gift, my lady,” she answered. “I’m uncertain if it’s appropriate or not, but I thought it would be a nice surprise.”

Lady Shalltear received the decanter in both hands with a bemused expression on her face. She removed the stopper and immediately looked back at her.

“This is yours…”

“You can tell?”

“Of course.”

Lady Shalltear held the decanter under her nose, and she closed her eyes. A faint flush appeared over her cheeks as she quietly inhaled. After a moment, she released her breath and her eyes opened again, crimson gaze glowing softly in the dim lighting.

“It was back when I was formalizing the local laws for the Krkonoše,” Ludmila answered. “The Sorcerous Kingdom probably has more than a few predatory species with unique needs, and the thought crossed my mind that you were a member of one of them. You mentioned that, as Undead, you don’t require sustenance, but I wondered if you might be at least a bit curious. One thing led to another, and…anyways, the decanter is enchanted with preservation magic, and it maintains the temperature of its contents, as well. There’s no reason why it shouldn’t work but, then again, I’m not exactly an expert on this sort of thing…”

Her voice trailed off awkwardly. Delivering such an unexciting and long-winded explanation was decidedly not the best way to convey a gift.

Lady Shalltear raised a finger, and a thin, crimson filament rose out of the opening of the crystal container. It collected into a small sphere in the air between them.

“Itadakimasu.”

With a gesture, Lady Shalltear popped it into her mouth. Much like someone tasting wine, she appeared to roll the blood around on her tongue. Her crimson eyes grew bright, then dimmed, and then she swallowed. Her expression settled, gaze focused on nothing in particular. After several moments, she replaced the stopper, pressing the decanter to her breast.

“Was there anything wrong with it?” Ludmila finally dared to ask.

“The magic item appears to have kept its contents fresh and warm,” Lady Shalltear replied absently, “if that was your question.”

Lady Shalltear’s thoughtful expression returned, and the silence grew long between them.

“…do I really taste that bad?”

Lady Shalltear blinked and turned her gaze up at her curiously. She brought the crystal decanter up between them, slowly swirling the content within.

“Blood carries within it the essence of life,” the chime of her voice was quiet, yet clear. “When a Vampire takes the blood of her prey, she can taste everything that they are at that moment. The panic and rush of flight; grief and desperation; terror and despair – those are the usual flavours that we come to enjoy. We are predators who savour the thrill of the hunt, and the emotions associated with a successful pursuit are carried by the blood of our quarry. I personally prefer to stretch things out to develop the taste, if the situation allows for it.”

The container disappeared into Lady Shalltear’s inventory, and she came forward until mere centimetres remained between them.

“As you might be able to imagine,” she said lightly, “that’s not what your blood tasted like.”

“You have my apologies, my lady,” Ludmila said. “I’ve heard similar stories of how predatory species savour the taste of their prey – I suppose I should have considered it from that angle as well.”

“I’m not saying that it’s bad,” Lady Shalltear’s eyes glimmered in amusement. “Just different. I’ve never actually had the like before, and I suspect that blood with these particular qualities is exceedingly rare to obtain.”

Her liege looked up at her, and the glimmer in her eyes transformed into a coquettish smile.

“And you’re right – I was very curious. I will treasure your gift, Ludmila.”

“I’m pleased to be able to provide something of value to you, my lady,” Ludmila said. “Though you should probably enjoy it at your leisure. Humans do eventually recover from blood loss, so I can provide you with more every once in a while.”

Lady Shalltear let out a short laugh, stepping away lightly.

“I suppose that sort of reasoning shouldn’t come as a surprise at this point, coming from you. Did you have any difficulties doing this?”

Ludmila glanced to the side, where Aemilia was quietly attending to them. She still paled whenever Ludmila mentioned it, and clearly shied away at the sight of blood. Well, Human blood, at least.

“It required a couple of attempts,” Ludmila said. “The first time, I thought I could just restore the lost blood using a healing potion.”

“I’m sure it just mysteriously vanished right in front of your face.”

“You know about this?”

“I do,” Lady Shalltear nodded. “It was the result of some research from a while ago. Detached portions of the body disappear when healing magic is cast on the injured target, so those portions have to be rendered into some other product so that the magic doesn’t recognize it. It’s of no help to us since I take my blood fresh.”

“I see…I suppose this result was from some sort of study with livestock?” Ludmila pondered the information, “It might be a bit cruel, depending on what is harvested and the methods used, but it’s probably better than slaughtering living things that take years to raise. It would be more cost-effective, as well, especially if something highly valuable is derived.”

“Yes, that’s exactly right!” Lady Shalltear smiled and nodded, “All sorts of materials can be harvested and processed, and healing spells can restore everything! Do you have plans to implement this concept in any form?”

“I’m experiencing a shortage of temple staff for the Human population at the moment,” she replied. “The majority of the Krkonoše are Druids, but they prefer to live in their alpine isolation. The Lizardmen will also be bringing their own mystics, but I’m uncertain if they’ll have mana to spare outside of servicing their own communities. Exploring this application for healing magic will need to wait until we’re in a more comfortable situation with local priests, or secure a cost-effective source of magic items.”

“Well, I’ll certainly be looking forward to that,” Lady Shalltear told her. “You know, I was thinking of doing that with the Frost Dragons. The two that were killed back then yielded a wealth of materials.”

“Is that so? I’m uncertain if you’ll be able to find any willing participants, though I suppose it would depend on what you’re planning to harvest from them. If you do, however, I’m sure that some of the local merchants would pay handsomely for that sort of thing. The revenues generated could go into improving the transportation network, perhaps?”

“Perhaps. We’re still far too busy to experiment with things at the moment, and the Dragons are still getting settled into their routines. We’ll have to revisit the idea sometime later. Shall we get going?”

“Of course, my lady.”

They left the manor hall of Warden’s Vale, strolling down the village lane. Men and women stopped to silently pay their respects to them – or stare at Lady Shalltear. Ludmila was certain the latter was more likely, as it was the first time they had probably seen her liege. The mid-morning sun glared down at them from the clear skies, and Lady Shalltear brought out her parasol.

“Is it true that Vampires are weak to sunlight, my lady?”

“Low-level Vampire Spawn are severely hampered by sunlight,” Lady Shalltear replied. “Once one gets to around the level of my Vampire Brides, it’s just a reflexive annoyance, at worst.”

Lady Shalltear twirled her parasol as they made their way down the hill and over the bridge, stopping mid-way to look north over the floodplain. The waters had receded considerably with the continued dry weather, and Chief Esess grew alarmed at the trend. Lord Mare’s suggestion for the valley floor was just the thing that everyone appeared to need, assuming that it would work out as well as was hoped.

“Lady Zahradnik?” Lady Shalltear’s voice drew her out of her thoughts.

“Apologies, my lady,” she replied. “I was just reviewing some major changes that were on the way.”

“Is that so? I thought you might have become anaemic after losing all of that blood. Speaking of which, you should let me do it next time: there would be less mess and fuss.”

“How would that work, my lady?”

“The same way as you observed earlier,” Lady Shalltear told her. “I can just draw the blood welling out of a cut and send it over into the decanter.”

“I see…I thought that you’d just bite me.”

“As much as I would like to,” her liege’s lip twitched upwards, “that wouldn’t be very wise. The necrotic curse that I inflict on living beings prevents natural and magical recovery, so you wouldn’t be able to heal until it is addressed. Taking your blood directly would also tempt me in various ways, so I might get just a bit carried away, despite my intentions.”

Ludmila stared out across the landscape again. Lady Shalltear’s words reminded her of a point that had been brought up not too long ago.

“Don’t tell me I’ve finally managed to frighten you with something,” her liege’s voice rose to tease her.

“My convictions remain unchanged from back then, my lady,” Ludmila replied. “I am yours, for as long as you would have me. However, if you wanted to do something to me, you could have at any point before now…that came up in a discussion recently, actually.”

“What has?”

“A couple of those members of Zurrernorn that we discussed some time ago arrived about midway through the harvest,” she said. “One of the topics broached was their envy over how I could request to be turned into a Vampire at any time. That I could have immortality: free of the cage they believe imposed upon them by life.”

Lady Shalltear’s fingers wrapped lightly around Ludmila’s elbow, and she tilted her parasol slightly to come closer.

“Is this something you desire, Ludmila?” Her silvery voice took on a silken quality.

“I hadn’t considered it before that point, my lady.”

“But you have now, yes?”

“Yes, my lady,” she swallowed. “In the end, I told them that I would rather face death by the grace of Lord Surshana. I mean no offence by this, of course.”

Lady Shalltear leaned her head against Ludmila’s arm.

“I’m pleased that you aren’t a fool,” she said.

“A fool?”

“Yes. What they suggested to you was foolish to the extreme – the words of those with a shallow understanding of what it means to undergo such a transformation. They only consider it as a shortcut to immortality, without any regard for the consequences.”

Lady Shalltear started walking towards the far side of the bridge, drawing Ludmila along with her. They were halfway up the slope to the terraces before she spoke again.

“If you were someone that the Sorcerous Kingdom valued solely for your personal martial strength, then perhaps it would be a good idea to turn you. Becoming a Vampire does make you far stronger, after all. Your value – including what stems from the relationship we now enjoy – will be adversely affected as a result of being turned.”

As they continued to walk along, a pair of Death Knights carrying a tree trunk came down the road in the opposite direction. Their gazes followed them briefly in passing.

“Do you understand what it means to be a pet, Lady Zahradnik?” Lady Shalltear asked her, “A thrall?”

Ludmila shook her head in response.

“I imagine that you consider yourself a loyal vassal,” Lady Shalltear said, “and I believe that most Humans would consider you extraordinarily so. This loyalty, however, is fundamentally different from the relationship between a mistress and their thralls, pets or summons. I’m fairly certain that you’ve already recognized this in your interactions with His Majesty’s Undead servitors.”

“I have recognized hints to those behaviours, yes,” Ludmila nodded. “But I find that, as long as everything is done in accordance with His Majesty’s will, any disagreements that arise are more along the line of debates over the methods and thinking we employ to accomplish our tasks.”

“You have a high degree of empathy – even for His Majesty’s servitors – and your flexibility and willingness to accommodate others have earned you remarkable results when it comes to their integration. I believe this has heavily skewed your views on their nature, so I shall explain how things actually are.”

Lady Shalltear paused for a moment, expression fixed in thought.

“As one of my Vampire thralls,” she said, “you may perhaps feel that you’re still yourself. The truth, however, is that you will be compelled to serve, obey and please me in any manner possible. At the thought of your mistress, all reason will fly away, all of your strength and intellect will be focused into a single-minded drive to fulfil my desires. You will leap into any hazard and commit any deed in my name, without question or consideration for yourself or anyone else. Now, does that sound like the behaviour of Ludmila Zahradnik?”

“No, my lady,” Ludmila answered. “While I will strive to serve you faithfully, I would still consider the meaning and consequences of my actions on a much larger scale. I believe that this, too, is an important part of being a loyal vassal – to be mindful of how my liege may be affected by my service. If I perceive that there are flaws or improvements in your directives, I will bring them to your attention.”

“Indeed,” Lady Shalltear said, “So you should understand why I consider it a foolish move, in your case. To turn you would be to throw away the very reason that you exist as my vassal, for it will destroy who you are. You will be incapable of providing me honest counsel, because you will, from that point onwards, be unable to oppose your mistress. Every step of development in your demesne; all of your policies, decisions and actions would be in consideration of my personal preferences: in deference to my every taste and whim. You would become nothing more than a slightly different sort of Vampire Bride, to be employed for lesser tasks, or used for my personal pleasure.”

Though Lady Shalltear spoke as if it were an undesirable thing, her grip on Ludmila’s elbow tightened. Her liege’s crimson eyes shone brightly, even in the daylight, and her tongue slowly ran over her lips. Her true appearance nearly slavered at her words: long tongue rasping over thousands of needle-sharp teeth.

Lady Shalltear did not miss Ludmila’s look.

“Don’t let my expression fool you,” she smiled slightly. “Despite how tantalizing the prospect is to my…carnal nature, it’s not something I would rationally desire for in our current circumstances.”

“Not long after I encountered the Krkonoše,” Ludmila said, “one of their Volkhv mentioned that Vampires can release their thralls. They’ve only studied things from a distance, however, so I’m uncertain whether it’s true or not.”

“It’s not something I’ve ever attempted, to be honest,” Lady Shalltear said. “There is a limit to the number of powerful vassals I can turn, and I suppose if I reach that limit, any extras would run around free…well, it’s something I would have to ask His Majesty’s permission to attempt, and I’m unwilling to lose you over an experiment.”

She drew closer to lean on Ludmila’s arm again as they walked along.

“For the moment,” she smiled, “we shall just have to settle for something like this. Your value lies far beyond simply being my plaything, and you’ve already proven your worth many times over.”

“They brought that idea up as well,” Ludmila faced forward again. “That a nation like the Sorcerous Kingdom would strive to retain valuable talent through similar means.”

“We do have the means,” Lady Shalltear told her, “but the nature of the candidate warrants careful thought. There are many options that fit Humans of various dispositions, but you are quite the difficult one to pin down. We could transform an evil individual into a Demon or the opposite sort into an Angel, but I figured the best fit for you would be some sort of plant.”

“A plant?”

Ludmila imagined herself buried waist-high in an earthenware pot, sitting on a windowsill somewhere doing paperwork. Would she be green in colour and sprout blossoms every spring? Maybe she would bear fruit, creating thousands of seedlings every year. It would certainly resolve her future issues with finding a consort.

“Yes,” Lady Shalltear nodded, “a plant Heteromorph of some kind. At first, I thought: ‘maybe a construct like an automaton, or a golem’, but I decided that it didn’t quite fit. There’s the issue of your class build as well – you may have some job classes that specifically require your being a Human, and that would end up in an awful mess. Also, now that I’ve had a taste of you, the idea of a plant Heteromorph has lost the little lustre it had. Despite what people might think, Vampires have no particular preference for tomato juice or the like.”

“…I didn’t realize that there was so much to consider, my lady, or that you had at all.”

“Well, those people that you spoke to did have a point there,” Lady Shalltear said. “Any extraordinarily useful and loyal individuals will, of course, merit consideration. In the end, the requirements involved in this sort of transformation means that it would be at your discretion, but I would be quite disappointed if you refused.”

They continued onwards up the road to the village, through the fields of stubble. Already, the Farmers were turning the soil and preparing to sow the autumn crops. They would be planting oats again for this season, and Ludmila wondered how the duchy’s overall harvest would affect her revenues for the next harvest.

Lady Shalltear had arranged today’s meeting in order to experiment with something in regards to shipping the harvest. Ludmila had not been able to secure a shipwright for new vessels, so she was in dire straits when it came to her cargo capacity. Clara had promised to purchase her exports – she was already monopolizing all of the stone and timber shipped out of Warden’s Vale – and Ludmila felt utterly ashamed at her rate of delivery.

Thoughts of Clara made her realize that her friend was most likely the prime candidate for transformation into some sort of immortal being. What she had accomplished thus far outstripped every other noble in the duchy combined, and it was unlikely that the Sorcerous Kingdom would let her die of old age if they could help it.

Would Clara accept their proposal? If so, Ludmila decided she would as well, if only to keep her closest friend company…but how would their gods feel about that? Would they lose their divine favour? Would they even have any business promoting the welfare of Humanity as non-Humans? Loyalty and duty; friendship and faith…everything important to her made an otherwise straightforward path difficult to navigate.

“That’s quite the glower you have on your face.”

She rearranged her expression at the sound of Lady Shalltear’s voice.

“This whole idea about a future as some sort of immortal being is giving me quite a lot to consider, my lady.”

“Is that so? Well, in that case, I look forward to your favourable response should the time come.”

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