Helena

"Are you in?" I ask.

She looks elsewhere, thinking about it. Then, "I will always be a vampire no matter what," she says out of nowhere. "I will find the Eternal Blood Chalice even if it kills me. So, yeah, I'm in."

Her words bring relief to me. It becomes easier to breathe. I have an ally on this journey now. "Thank you," I say which sounded more like a whisper. I'm quite embarrassed to show how much I value this.

"Something odd happened to you earlier," she says. "You weren't yourself. It was like you were a different person."

I focus on digging up my memory of what happened but I can't remember anything odd. All I remember is fighting while being so tired and injured until Lucy showed up and healed me.

"I don't remember," I tell.

She tells me what happened and I'm in disbelief that I did those things.

"That's absurd," I argue. "I could not do those things, let alone hurt you."

"It's true, you idiot. You almost made me kill you!"

"But why? Why did I do that? Did Carmilla hypnotize me or something?"

"I don't really know but it happened."

Then I remember that something like this already happened to me. Back in the Rave, I was tortured to death but miraculously escaped. However, the memory is so blurry until Lucy healed me.

"I think something like this already happened to me," I say trying to remember. "This happened back in the Rave. I was about to die and. . . something just gave me the strength to survive. I don't know what it was." It's not even mentioned in the File.

"Maybe it will happen again if you get too exhausted and injured."

She could be right. "Maybe. . .," I nod but unsure. "I won't allow myself to do that again, I swear."

"Also, where did you get that silver knife?"

Uh-oh. . . "Uhm. . . from your. . . room?" She frowns at me. "I tried to find you after you lashed out, okay? I just came across it and—" I take a deep breath and just admit, "I have no excuse."

"It's okay. I'm glad that you brought it and used it for a better purpose." Her frown melts into timidity as she looks at Helena's face. "Because it was a. . . knife that I once tried to kill myself with."

That was a knife that nearly killed her? And I held it! What the hell?

"I'm sorry. . .," I apologize.

"I said, it's okay," she says, very much annoyed.

I think talking about this further is just going to make her uncomfortable so I turn my thoughts to something else.

"So, what do you think we should do with her?" I'm talking about Helena.

"What do you mean?"

"We're gonna be facing danger soon and she's gonna get hurt."

"We'll protect her—obviously."

"Hey, look. We barely survived fighting Carmilla and I'm sure that there will be more dangerous enemies than her. Helena might get hurt."

"No, she stays with us. She's your daughter. You should look after her."

Well, she's willingly doing it instead of me. Ironic. "Can't you understand what I'm saying?"

"Hmph!" she scoffs me off.

Then Helena suddenly cries without reason. "What did you do?"

"She's just hungry. Give me the bottle!"

I do what she says, summoning the bottle from my inventory. Then when she puts it in Helena's mouth, she brushes it away and cries even harder.

"Maybe she's cold," Nisha speculates. "Nope, we're already near the fire. What does she want?" She looks at me and says, "Take her."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Gently, I grab Helena from her and she calms down a little bit. Her pearly pink eyes are observing my face as she sobs. Then she abruptly smiles even though I didn't do anything. It was a brief moment before she blindly stares into the air. And what is this mellow feeling I feel?

What a weird buff.

"Aw, she likes you," says Nisha.

"I didn't even do anything."

"Babies know who their parents are, you know."

"They do? In our world—" Now that I think of it, I haven't held a baby in my entire life. I'm not sure if parents and their babies have this kind of connection. I don't wanna tell her about this because she might think I'm a loser that didn't get the most out of life.

"In your world, what?" Nisha asks me to continue. She's too curious.

"Never mind," I say instead.

"Come on, say it," she insists.

"It was nothing important."

She grumbles, folding her arms. "You're so annoying. Just when you made me curious, you decided to brush me off."

"It's personal, okay?"

"'It's personal, okay?'—yeah, right," she mocks. "After you went through my stuff and I told you my past, this is how you treat me back."

"Whatever," I roll my eyes as I stand up. "Here, take her for a sec."

"Where are you going?" she asks. "Uh, never mind. Go away and don't come back."

"What's the matter with you?"

She just frowns, not looking at me. As I scour for things to burn, I hear the surviving Atasaias celebrating from afar. I don't know exactly where they are but the chances are they're in the ruins of the castle. They must be happy that Carmilla won't be bossing them around anymore. Well, good for them.

I return to the campfire and say, "The others are celebrating."

"Of course, they would."

"I thought most of you guys are loyal to her."

"We were but that was just because she had control over us."

After sitting on the ground, I say, "By the way, you and Algron fought against her. Why couldn't she just command both of you?"

"Algron and I aren't Atasaias—you know that."

"Oh, so she can only control those who are the same as her?"

"That's right."

*Yawn* I'm tired. I feel I need to rest. "Can I sleep for a moment?"

"Go ahead."

"How about you?"

"My deep slumber is still 90 years away."

"Really?" I ask, lying down on my side.

My eyes are already closed as she says, "Sleep well."

"Keep Helena safe."

"Don't worry. Both of you will be safe with me."

Those words are helping me to sleep easily. The fire is comfortably warm. Though the rocks aren't comfortable, Nisha's humming is so soothing that makes me ignore it. I never knew that she could sing like this.

"Sleep now, Kai," the sweet voice says before I feel soft lips pressing on my forehead. "Our people are waiting for me."

The sheets covering me are soft, warm, and fragrant. Some light goes through my eyelids but that doesn't matter anymore. My mind is going blank as I'm falling asleep. I hope we'll go play in the park tomorrow again.

*Sniff*

What is this milky smell?

I open my eyes and see my daughter's face. Her purple eyes are wide open and her pupils dilate. Her drool is wetting my chin. Ugh. . . it's quite disgusting. I know, I know. A baby's drool doesn't smell bad. But I don't like it, it's sticky. Grabbing her, I sit up and see Nisha cooking fish in the fire. She doesn't eat food like that so I assume that it's for me.

"Had a good sleep?" she asks.

"Yup," I say, yawning. Good sleep, I should say. I even dreamt of something that I feel was meaningful but I don't remember.

"I'm cooking this for you."

"Oh, thank you."

Shyly, she scratches her nose with her finger. "And can I. . . uh. . ."

"Don't be shy, come on." I show her my bare wrist.

"Is it okay though? You might go rogue again."

"Then don't take too much."

"Okay!" she crawls closer to me, grabs my wrist, and drinks my blood through my wrist.

I'm holding Helena with my left hand. She's squirming a little and I don't know why. *Sniff* And what is that smell? This is not her usual milky odor but something more unpleasant.

"What is this smell, Nisha?" I ask.

She's done drinking and breathes for a second while wiping her lips as well as my wrist. "She pooped."

"What? Oh, I forgot babies poop too."

"Give her to me, I'll clean her."

She brings her to the shore and there, she uses the seawater. I'm surprised that she knows how to handle a baby. I would hesitate to touch the poo.

When she returns, I remark, "You sure know how to handle a baby, huh?"

"I handled babies before."

"Really?" We sit down around the fire again.

"I babysat hundreds of children in the slums. Most of them are adults now." Oh, impressive. . . "I just love babies—as most women do."

Oh, so women love babies. . . That's one unnecessary knowledge to take in. But me, well, I don't wish to have one. After all, it's gonna be an extra thing to worry about while I tread this dangerous path to the Edge of Shannia.

"Oh, ho ho!" a cackle startles us. We turn to where we think it comes from. A group of Atasaias approaches us like we're prey. "I knew a smelled a Daemon crap," says the one in the middle. "Even better because it is from a fresh, soft, and lumpy babe."