Take Off

"You'll get used to it with time."

Alvin turned toward the voice and saw Elara reclining comfortably in a seat—one of the few areas not affected by the jet's transparency.

"I used to fall on these a lot when I was younger," she admitted with a nostalgic smile, her gaze drifting around the plane as if recalling old memories.

Alvin did not realize it before, but the floor beneath his feet had returned to normal. Upon noticing, he let out a quiet breath of relief and shot Vanessa a grateful look before making his way to the seat across from Elara, facing her.

Elara's expression shifted back to normal as she observed him. "You seem tired."

Alvin blinked blankly before shaking his head. Then, after a pause, he admitted, "...Tired? Maybe I am. It would seem odd if I did not feel tired after what I had to experience in one day."

"Uh-huh, I am not talking about that." Elara shook her head and clarified, "Earlier, when your emotions flared, you used a lot of your energy. Even though you fed on those humans, you haven't fully recovered yet." Shaking her head, Elara rose from her seat and walked toward the rear of the jet.

As she passed the king-sized luxurious bed, the invisibility concealing the final section of the aircraft faded away. The door slid open on its own, revealing a lavish kitchen stocked with every ingredient one could need for any cuisine.

Elara opened the fridge, retrieved a sleek black bottle, and closed the door with a soft click before returning to her seat. Sitting back down, she tapped her foot twice on the floor. Immediately, a table materialized between them, sprouting from the ground as if it had always been there.

"Amazing, right? Magic is really something else." She chuckled at Alvin's astonishment, a hint of pride in her voice as if she were the one responsible for the magic.

Vanessa, watching the scene unfold on one of the cockpit's screens, rolled her eyes secretly.

"Here, try this. It might not help with your recovery, but it will help you feel calm and fresh." Elara poured the bottle's contents into two elegant glasses that she pulled from a hidden compartment beneath the enchanted floor.

Alvin took one whiff of the rich, metallic scent, and realization struck. "This is… blood?"

"You wish," Elara smirked. "Although blood helps us recover faster, you are not ready to drink it without supervision just yet. If unchecked, you might become owned by your hunger."

Alvin reached for the glass and swirled the crimson liquid absentmindedly.

"This is a magical wine, especially fermented to a vampire's taste. It almost tastes the same as high-quality human blood. We also enjoy it, a fine alcohol, every now and then." Elara raised her glass and took a slow sip. "Not like we can have anything better in that place."

Alvin looked puzzled at her remark; he looked down at the glass and hesitated a bit. But it was only for a moment before bringing the glass to his lips. The taste was both sweet and metallic, as if he were really drinking blood.

He felt every drop of wine that slithered down his throat and sent streaks of soothing sensation through his entire body.

"Ahh—" A satisfied exhale escaped him before he could stop it.

Elara's smile deepened; relief flashed deep within her eyes. They continued drinking in silence; this silence was all Alvin needed at this moment, no comfort or words of condolence.

"You are really something," she remarked, placing her half-filled glass back on the table. "Many would have lost control by now, whether they were hungry or not. Even though it's not real blood, the taste alone makes some newborn vampires finish everything in one go."

Before Alvin could say anything, she stood and stretched. "I'll go change before joining you again. You can go later; Vanessa brought a new set of clothes for you earlier."

Alvin simply nodded, watching as she walked toward the bed. She paused before stepping through the doorway and flashed him a soft smile. A moment later, a gate materialized between them, obscuring his view.

Even with the door closed, his enhanced hearing picked up the faint rustle of fabric and the quiet sound of another door opening.

"We're taking off—try not to be too surprised," Vanessa's voice echoed through the aircraft.

Alvin turned his attention toward the outside view.

'I didn't even realize we were moving!' His eyes widened as the Big Wave Bay shrank in the distance. The jet hadn't made a sound—nor had he felt the slightest shift.

As the aircraft gained speed, it hovered just inches above the ocean before steadily ascending. Once again, it disappeared into camouflage mode.

Then, just as the jet leveled into a steady flight, the floor beneath Alvin's feet turned transparent again.

"Achk! You damned maid!"

A startled yell from behind the door broke the silence, surprising Alvin.

"You'll be the death of me one day!"

Alvin's enhanced hearing caught the faint sound of someone collapsing onto a soft surface. He glanced toward Vanessa, who remained entirely unfazed, her fingers deftly working the jet's controls as if she hadn't heard a thing.

Throughout the takeoff, Alvin felt nothing—no turbulence, no pressure shift, nothing remotely similar to a normal airplane. If not for the view, he would have believed he was sitting in a stationary room.

Lost in thought, he watched as the clouds drifted past, the sensation of floating through the sky making him feel… unshackled. Free.

"What's on your mind?"

Alvin flinched at the unexpected voice behind him, snapping out of his reverie. He'd been so absorbed in his thoughts that he hadn't noticed Vanessa approaching.

"Autopilot… how convenient," he mused, deflecting the question as he eyed the now-unmanned cockpit.

Vanessa smirked knowingly but chose to play along. "This jet has everything you can think of… and things you can't."

Alvin turned his gaze back to the clouds, his voice laced with something unreadable.

"Does it have a graveyard?"