Prophesy.

Somewhere in Alvaron.

In the dim glow of the hearth, a lady with fiery red hair and dark brown eyes slightly obscured by a sliver rimmed glasses, sat poised, her quill dancing across the parchment as she stared down seemingly in a trance.

The old Castle's stone walls whispered secrets of ages past, but her focus was unwavering.

Her lips began moving speaking in a strange language.

Before abruptly lifting up her head, dropping down her quill and sighing.

She leaned back on her chair, looking out the window.

Her gaze loosely observing the wilted garden not so far away from her position.

"The wheels of Fate and Desire has began to set in motion."

She whispered, closing her eyes, resignedly.

"Our world will turn much worse, Salvatos."

A large gust of shadow seeped out from under her feet, materialising into something tangible, then something nightmarish before settling into a small boy with a canny resemblance to her, resting on her leg. His eyes closed.

Used to it, she began petting his red hair.

There was a shadowy spectral chain that laid on his neck and connecting to her wrists.

"I will protect you, Ursula."

The lady paused looking down at him.

Before her gaze softened, regarding him.

As if sensing her gaze, he rose his head up. Opening his eyes. The colour of his eyes was all black, the whites supposedly there was gone.

Like a abysmal wormhole.

"Salvatos... In acceptance we find freedom."

_______________________________

"Why are we still here? Aren't we supposed to be going somewhere? Any place that isn't here!"

Amanise rose one of her eyebrows at Hamlin, feeling increasingly agitated. Her arms in akimbo verbally preparing for a hot argument.

But the Greek statue paid her no heed.

None at all.

So focused on what he was doing instead.

Gracefully chewing his food. His hands moving the knife and fork with swift, practiced movements.

While she struggled with hers and a wave of nausea that continuously pushed up her throat.

Piece of shit.

They were eating.

To be honest..

Hamlin was mostly eating the tendered meat, soaked in juicy spices and something that looked like red sauce. She wasn't quite sure.

But it smelt delicious.

In another circumstance she would have gobbled it down her throat.

Relishing on the juices that bursted on her tongue as she chewed.

The heavenly smell promised quite a lot.

She had faith. The taste wouldn't disappoint.

Unfortunately, she couldn't.

It tasted mostly like sandpaper especially when she remembered what happened in the Central Town's Square few hours ago.

A memory that refused to leave her head.

"Incase you lost your sight alongside your wits, Amanise. We are here to eat."

Duh it's obvious.

But I feel there is something more.

She picked up her fork for the nth time in a row. Not used to eating with proper etiquettes. After a consecutive uncomfortable round of fiddling, she resolved into eating with her hands, bare.

Arranging her leather black gloves at the side of the table, her attention on the meal. Since they were in a private cubicle, she might as well use it to her advantage.

Only for Hamlin to drop his own fork down staring at her as if she commited an abomination, then awkwardly shifting to an uncertainty.

Unsure whether to laugh or cry at the mess she was making. The sauce and juices droppings designing her black tunic.

This is the only reason why I am grateful for your cloak,bastard.

She snarled at him, before chomping down the food and swallowing down.

Ignoring the soothing feeling the food was having on her and the painful bite of bullet on her leg.

A delicious blend of juices and a vexing pain in the arse.

Her eyes trailed to the wounded leg under the table.

A white bandage neatly wrapped round it.

She winced at the movement.

I'm only eating because I don't know when you would feed me again and to avoid finding a gun and implanting a couple of bullets in your legs too.

Enjoy the freedom why it lasts, piece of rocky shit.

I am swearing too much nowadays.

I need help.

Finishing his meal. He dabbed his kissable lips with a blue handkerchief that matched his attire.

Looking elegant and irresistibly hot.

She found herself rolling her eyes. Already planning to ignore him till the end of the day.

"To lightened the guilt in your heart and avoid an embarrassing scene of you vomitting your goods in the ride. The woman we burnt on the stake isn't innocent."

Well that grabbed my attention enough to make me talk. What?

"What?"

Hamlin brought out the newspaper he refused to throw away since morning.

She felt her stomach churn in discomfort on seeing the headlines once more.

Contemplating on whether to not wait for the ride or do her deed here on his shoes instead.

Either way she watched him turning the pages away from the front headlines to the twelfth page of the newspaper. Pointing at an incredibly small section at the bottom of the page. If someone wasn't paying attention they would have skimmed past it.

Squinting her eyes to understand she read another murder...

About a certain girl suspected to murder and commit hematophagy on her whole family. A family of seven. Including her.

Terror made her body shiver and her eyes widen. For some strange reasons she remembered the young girl she spotted in the Central Town's Square.

"She did that?!"

He nodded absentmindedly, sipping his coffee he dutifully ignored until he was done with breakfast.

"How? Why would she even do such a thing?! Are you sure that you aren't with the wrong person? I can't just understand..."

"You do understand, Amanise.

Very well indeed if I may ask. But you refuse to accept that fact. Because it goes against something... Your so~called beliefs. Though I don't know exactly what."

Suddenly feeling defensive. She hit her hands on the table standing up.

While biting back a cry of agony. The wound on her injured leg hurting.

"You expect me to believe a young girl murder her family and drank their blood?! Is she a vampire or something?!"

Totally unaffected by her fake raging. He relaxed on his chair. Looking up at her, assessing.

"Hmmm... Close but not it. I am surprised you know what a vampire is considering your origins from the slum."

She hissed wildly. Her patience being tested.

"I only knew them because my mother tells me bedtime stories every night before she died."

She blurted out before she thought. Turning mortified by exposing her past to him. Her face increasing turned peach.

"According to records. Your mother died when you were at the age of five. It's intriguing your memory was sharp enough to recollect. Under the weight of starvation, homelessness and poverty."

Amanise held back the incredible urge of slapping him raw on the face.

Choosing to limp her way outside the cubicle, ugily.

A part of her wishing he won't stop her and then wishing he would, because she didn't know where she was going.

But he did nothing allowing her to leaving their private cubicle. Covering her face with her hoodie. She ignored the stares she attracted and left the inn.

Moving outside the streets.

She limped past scurrying people moving on the cobbled ground. Aware of the subtle intrigue she left awake because of her appearance.

And the disgusting limp.

Sighing, she sought to clear her thoughts. Thinking of her next action to take while unsuccessfully luring herself to calm down.

This is gonna be a long day.