Chapter 7 / I lost a bet against a Calamity

April 1st, 15.001.  

Main port of Velanth, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

After a few days of traveling, on a cloudy morning, the cruise cut through fog and gray waters until the jagged coastline of Umbra rose ahead. Cliffs loomed like blackened blades, their tips veiled in mist, and the air grew colder with every mile. When the ship finally moored at the port, the group stepped onto foreign soil for the first time, boots meeting stone darkened by salt and shadow. At first glance, Umbra seemed heavy—its skies clouded, its streets narrow, its air damp with winter that never fully left. It looked like a land carved for secrets.

But beneath that somber skin, life stirred as anywhere else. Children darted between market stalls, vendors bellowed prices of roasted meat still steaming in the chill air, and the clang of blacksmiths or laughter spilling from taverns made the city breathe with its own pulse. The vampires’ continent had its shadows, yes, but it was no graveyard. It was alive, proud, and built to endure.

Umbra itself was a continent of balance. On a factual, historical level, it could be said that it was the most balanced of the three continents. Military, cultural, technological, magical, and economic power intertwined beneath a democracy where only blood could speak for leadership. Faith was scarce, but superstition lingered, and ancient knowledge gave its people ways to bargain with demons and Calamities rather than fear them.

Among its cities, Velanth stood apart. Built on the sea's edge, it was less a harbor for sailors than a crucible for ideas. Vampires did not love the ocean for recreational purposes, but they tolerated it here, using the port as a gate for trade while their minds turned inward to invention. Universities and workshops crowded the avenues, towers glowing with lamplight long past dusk. It was a city of restless ambition, cultural openness, and progress—Umbra’s modern heart, where learning cut as sharply through the gray of their skies.

♥︎

After arriving at the port and getting into their car, Sukira decided to continue straight to the highway, as she was trying to avoid entering the region's capital for some reason. She didn’t explain, and no one asked. They stopped in the middle of nowhere around midnight to rest.

They had just settled by the fire when Sukira stiffened. Her eyes narrowed to the treeline.

“This is about to get interesting”.

“...Don’t move,” Elon murmured. Elon had already raised his head almost simultaneously as Sukira did. His breath was hitching like he too sensed something beyond mortal hearts.

Seconds later, the figure came from the dark as if it had always been there. Tall, loose-shouldered, moving with the confidence of someone who owned every shadow he touched. His smile glinted before the firelight caught the rest of him.

“It's been a while, my love.” His voice was velvet over steel, lazy and intimate. “I was beginning to think you were hiding from me.”

“Vlad.” Her lips curved with a smirk, her stance sliding into something almost playful. “If you were looking for me, you just needed to call. You have my number.”

He stepped closer, bowing his head in exaggerated courtesy before letting his eyes rake across her. “As if you would have replied.”

He tilted his head, the grin widening. “You are always so mean to me. How long has it been? A decade or two? You injured me badly, and it took me some time to get back on my feet. But we both know you’ve missed me.” His eyes swept her deliberately, as if she were a prize he’d won long ago and could reclaim whenever he wished. “And I’ve missed you, you’ve no idea how I’ve missed you.”

“I can imagine life might be pretty boring without me”. She simply replied. 

Dominique made a gagging noise. “You two want a room, or—?”

“Shut it, Domi,” Vlad said without glancing her way. His whole body angled toward Sukira, as though the rest of the world didn’t matter. “Tell me… do you still have issues sleeping, or did you finally let someone else warm your bed? Maybe that powerful sorcerer over there? He looks strong, I’m actually getting jealous."

“Kill him, you would do me a favour.” 

“Oh, don’t do this to my heart.” He said while dramatically grabbing his chest. “You know that’s a sweet spot of mine; you’re doing it on purpose. Beg me to kill in your name.” Before anyone could stop him, Vlad leaned in and pressed his lips against hers; it wasn’t gentle, it was more of a claim, a dare.

“Blessings, he’s insufferable. As he actually had a heart to begin with…” Dominique muttered towards Eloise as she rolled her eyes. 

For a heartbeat, Sukira didn’t pull away. She even grabbed him and returned the kiss back. Her lips curved against his like she was playing along, her eyes half-lidded with the same mockery he’d thrown at her. One of her hands was touching his chest, while making it look like raw desire, she was ready to stick a bullet into him. And when she was about to claim a gun from her void, he pulled her away and flicked his gaze toward the fire, where Risha sat wide-eyed. 

“But I didn’t come here for nostalgia. I came for the boy.”

“Careful.” 

Vlad’s eyes gleamed. “Relax. It’s not personal. I made a promise, and unlike you, I keep my word. One of the great Calamities set me a task: ‘Kill every creature who carries the name ‘Risha.’ Simple but quite annoying task. 

The boy stiffened. Dominique immediately stepped in front of him, steel sliding free of her fists.  “Why would anyone want that?” she demanded. 

Vlad chuckled. “You think I care? It was a bet I lost, darling. You know how boring eternity can get. The Calamities, they make things interesting! You mortals tremble at them, but me?” He shrugged, his grin turning feral. “I play cards with them. Sometimes I win, sometimes—” his eyes flicked back to Risha, “—I lose.”

He reached forward, casual, almost affectionate, a hand stretching toward the boy’s cheek. Steel flashed. Sukira was already moving, her blade singing through the air with lethal intent, aimed straight for his throat, but he only chuckled and stepped back, untouched, as if the steel had never been close.

“Oh no,” he said lightly, brushing invisible dust from his coat. “Don’t be silly. I’m far too old to be trading blows like a common thug.”

The ground split. From the cracks poured shadows thick as tar, stretching into bodies that snarled with demon-teeth and claws. Firelight faltered, smothered beneath the rising tide of black forms.

The group broke into motion, but it was chaos. Dominique barreled forward with fists and elbows, trying to knock the shadows sprawling, only for them to rise again. Elon tried to clear the mass with bursts of flame, but his aim was desperate, rushed, and even one searing lash of fire caught Sukira’s shoulder, and she hissed, spinning on him.

“Watch your hand, prince,” she snapped, batting away a lunging beast.

Dominique’s knuckles split against a shadow’s jaw, useless; claws raked her ribs, and she went down.

“Damn it!” Sukira barked, throwing up a hasty ward of steel-blue light. She twisted to Eloise, who still clutched Risha behind a shimmering dome. “Give me another barrier. A short one. Just a few seconds”

Eloise did not hesitate. A second bubble snapped into place, enclosing Sukira with Dominique and Elon.

“Listen. Fast,” Sukira’s voice cracked like a whip. “Dominique, forget the shadows. Go for the demons; physical strength breaks them. Instead, shadows are yours, blondie. And please, don’t use fire, use anything else. I’ll explain later. Both of you, open a path for me. I need a straight line to him.” She jerked her chin toward Vlad, lounging atop a pile of rubble, smiling like a man at the theater.

The barrier shattered with a sound like breaking glass, and the fight shifted. Dominique drove her fists into the demons’ rigid torsos, splintering them into an oily black substance. Elon focused, his energy magic cutting through shadow after shadow, clearing space around Sukira. For a heartbeat, it worked. They moved as one, clumsy but effective.

They are strong, but it's clear they’ve never been in a real fight. I was better left alone. 

Still, the cost was high. Dominique’s arms bled freely from claw marks. Elon staggered, bruises forming beneath his pale skin. Even Sukira’s breath came ragged as she carved her way forward.

She closed the distance with her void. She shot once, twice, a third time—vanished, deflected, laughed away. But on the fourth hit the target. A shallow line opened across the back of his hand. Black blood welled, glimmering in the moonlight.

The laughter stopped. Vlad looked down at the wound with quiet surprise, then chuckled low in his throat. “Ah… this reminds me of old times.” 

Then he straightened, snapping his fingers. The demons collapsed and fell, and the shadows dissolved into nothing. His bright and feral eyes lingered on Risha.

“This is getting too demanding,” he sighed, as if they’d bored him. “I’ll return for this little Risha after I’ve killed the rest.”

He tipped an invisible hat toward Sukira, his crimson grin sharp as knives. “Another excuse to see you again, my love. Perhaps next time, you’ll even miss me.” 

He blew a kiss at her. And with that, he vanished.

♥︎

The silence that followed felt broken, brittle. Dominique’s arm bled from a deep slash across her shoulder. Eloise’s hands trembled, pale from the magic she had burned through. Risha, who had been motionless the whole time, suddenly ran forward and pressed himself into Dominique’s side, clinging with desperate strength.

Sukira stood apart, wounds dripping. She would not look at them.

Eloise stepped forward, her palms faintly glowing. “Let me heal—”

“Stay away.” Sukira’s voice cracked like a whip. “I don’t need your magic.”

But in the next breath, she turned, seizing Risha’s arms, searching his skin, his neck, his chest. Her hands moved roughly and urgently, like she expected to find a brand seared into him. Nothing. She exhaled sharply, though her shoulders stayed rigid.

Eloise pressed her hands against Dominique’s wound, closing the bleeding gash. Dominique thanked her with a bow. 

Elon stood a little apart, his face pale but composed. “I can heal my own wounds. Thanks,” he muttered, brushing Eloise away when she reached for him. “Are you okay?”

Eloise nodded. Nobody was talking more than they needed to. 

But his voice wavered slightly, and Sukira's eyes snapped to him. The way his body sagged, the faint gray in his face—it clicked.

“Damn it,” she spat. She shoved past Eloise, fingers gripping the front of Elon’s shirt. “It’s not Risha. It’s you.”

He blinked, startled, but too weary to resist as she forced him to the ground and yanked open his clothes, scanning his skin, his face, his hands. Nothing on the surface. Her hand pressed flat to his chest, hard enough to make him flinch. 

“It’s inside, he placed a tracking mark,” she said, her tone low and certain, looking at Eloise. She didn’t notice, but her hand stood still in the middle of his chest, and he placed his hand upon hers. 

Her cold hands feel good after a heated fight.

Eloise’s eyes widened. “A tracking mark?”

Sukira gave a curt nod. “Vlad’s trick that brands his prey. The lazy bastard uses it to easily find them wherever they run.”

Eloise’s hands began to glow again, sharper, more focused. “Hold him still.”

Elon gritted his teeth, but Dominique pinned his shoulders without hesitation. Sukira pressed her palm to his sternum. Eloise muttered under her breath, words curling into light, until suddenly—black smoke writhed up through Elon’s ribs, twisting like a serpent, screeching as it tore free. Eloise snapped her fingers, and it dissolved into nothing.

The air went still again. Elon slumped back, gasping.

“That’s it,” Eloise whispered, her own body trembling. “It’s gone.”

“That was impressive, " Elon praised Eloise, but he fainted before she could enjoy it. 

They didn’t argue about what came next. Tents were pitched in weary silence. Dominique curled protectively around Risha and Cloud. Eloise collapsed face-first onto her bedroll.

They put Elon into one of the tents, laying him on a mat, and Sukira sat beside him like a sentinel, arms folded, watching his chest rise and fall. She hated how uneven his breathing was.

Hours passed in silence, broken only by the rasp of his breathing. At some point, she noticed he wasn’t making the same movement as he had before, and she leaned closer, her hand brushing his throat, searching for the pulse.

His eyes opened.

She pulled back, but his hand shot up, catching hers in a surprisingly firm grip.

“Finishing the work?” His voice was raspy, but his gaze pinned her.

Sukira’s eyes were fixated on him, and his joke did not make her laugh. “I was checking if you were breathing, asshole. Imagine you dying at the hands of my ex. Hilarious.”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, and the tiredness in his eyes was undeniable. “Well… You did ask him to kill me.”

Her eyes flickered—just for a second—but he saw it.

“What’s with those eyes?” he asked quietly. Blinking his eyes slowly. 

“How insufferable”. She was really tired of him noticing everything; she was also tired of how many reactions he stirred in her. "I’ll go get Eloise—” Then she tried standing up, her hand still trapped in his, almost double in size. 

“Stay.” He pulled tighter this time, pulling her back down. His voice softened. “Please.”

She hesitated. Then sat, stiff as a blade. “Fine. But don’t say another word.”

His eyes closed. A few seconds passed before he talked again.

“Your hands are always cold,” he murmured. “I like it.” He placed her hand, still stuck to his, on his neck while bending slowly towards it. His eyes were closed entirely. 

Her head dropped forward, resting lightly against Elon’s chest. She closed her eyes, too, exasperated and muttering, “Shut up. Please.”

♥︎