The Last Experience Point

Chapter 67: Double-Phase

As a large, muscular, and almost certainly sentient level-73 zombie danced around an unexpectedly cozy kitchen wearing a tight-fitting tank-top and a flower-embroidered apron, the fact that Zach did not so much as raise an eyebrow was a testament to just how indoctrinated he’d become towards coping with the unexpected. Really, it should’ve been a mind-blowing experience to watch this brawny, undead being with green bushy hair and surprisingly healthy greenish-white skin joyfully prepare breakfast. Yet the sight failed to arouse even the slightest twinge of astonishment within Zach as the high-level zombie, who had apparently just taken a shower and now smelled of raspberry shampoo and aftershave, grabbed a frying pan out of a large, double-doored cabinet while shaking his hips and humming; he glided his way across the marble, hexagonally-tiled kitchen floor and dropped the pan onto the stove above the granite countertop.

Had Zach still been an ordinary, level-1 kid going to a boring school in a broken-down city, this absurd, otherworldly sight would have sent him into a state of muted shock. But now? Well, why would it? This wasn’t even the first time he’d seen a sentient NPC wearing an apron cook breakfast. Hell, it probably wouldn’t be the last time, either. Thus, the only thing he felt as he watched the zombie grab various ingredients and happily dance around was amusement. It even made him smile as this Grundor sang aloud.

“Shooting at the walls of heartache: BANG-BANG! I am the warrior!”

It was not a song Zach had ever heard before, but it was definitely catchy. Grundor had been singing it almost on a loop to the point that even Fluffles had apparently learned the words. The cat was running back and forth along the countertop singing it together with him.

“Fluffles is the warrior!” the cat sang.

Even as he performed various tasks, such as cracking eggs, pouring batter or milk, mixing ingredients, and working the stove, Grundor somehow always had a free hand available to pet Fluffles whenever the cat darted past him on the counter. Occasionally, Fluffles would run straight through the fire, and Zach did wince each time. He had to mentally remind himself that Fluffles was not an ordinary cat but a leveled adventurer who, despite his tiny, adorable, and soft body, could probably withstand gunshots and rocket launchers, let alone a stove flame.

I wonder why really hot weather still makes me all sweaty and uncomfortable, but at the same time, I could probably be hosed down with a flamethrower and not be burned.

As Fluffles “helped” Grundor cook, Olivir motioned with a friendly gesture of his hand for Zach to take a seat at the dining table. Zach pulled out the chair at the back end of the table, but he did so with extra slowness given how fancy and expensive it looked. Hell, even the linen tablecloth, with its pattern of golden and silver stitching, looked like it alone was worth more than Zach’s entire former apartment in Whispery Woods had been.

Awkwardly, Zach slid the chair backwards over the tiled kitchen floor. His arms were a bit unsteady, and so were his knees, he now realized. Though he felt mostly fine, he supposed he must have still been a bit out of it or something. He wasn’t exactly tired, but there was an overall “jittery” quality to his limbs and a slight weakness that he hoped would fade in the next few hours. Most likely, this was one of the effects of having literally died and returned to life, something that still didn’t feel real to him despite knowing for certain that it was true. And so, with continued slowness, he sat down and watched as Olivir took the seat across from him.

The vampire was fascinating in that he did not at all look the way Zach had expected. Aside from the two fang-like teeth that slightly protruded from the top of his mouth and his unusually pale skin, he was more fancy than fierce. Judging off looks alone, he came across as somewhere in the same age range as Zach, with a youthful, unblemished face and gentle, hazel-colored eyes. His slicked-back hair was perfectly silver, though Zach could not tell if that was its natural color or simply the result of dye. He was also pretty tall, probably only an inch shy of six feet, and he was very thin. He wore a lavish black vest with white sleeves and gold-colored buttons and a pair of black, laced dress shoes like he was planning on attending a formal occasion. His voice was both soft and light, and when he spoke, there was a constant sense of amused confidence in how he formed his words.

“All right, so I think we should start with the basics,” he said. “Even though you already know this, my name is Count Olivir Soloux, but you don’t have to call me that. Oli or Olivir is fine.”

Zach smiled appreciably. “Fair enough. You also know my name is Zach, but my full, real name is Zachys Calador. Oh, and just Zach is fine, too.”

Something strange happened as Zach told Olivir his name. Though it was subtle and lasted for only an instant, Olivir’s lips briefly parted and his eyes widened ever so slightly. It was as though he’d experienced a fleeting moment of shock, which made no sense, because nothing Zach had said so far was remotely shocking.

“Ah, your last name’s what, again?”

“Calador,” Zach repeated. “Zachys Calador.”

And then, there it was once more, only now, he appeared confused on top of everything else. He scratched his chin a moment and then sucked on the bottom-right corner of his lower lip. “That’s a pretty…specific name. Calador, I mean.”

“Specific?” Zach asked. “Specific how?”

Olivir chuckled and then all trace of surprise fled his expression. “Nothing. I’m being dumb. It’s just that your last name is the same as some really important historical figures that you’ve probably never heard about and I only happen to know by chance.”

Zach shrugged. “It’s just my name. Trust me, I’m not linked to anyone special, famous, powerful, or important. Actually,” he continued, frowning, “my dad was a loser alcoholic who could barely pay rent and was murdered by a very powerful man who threw him out of a window and left him to bleed out on the sidewalk.”

“I see…”

Zach paused as a pain entered his voice out of literally nowhere, and then his volume gradually began to ramp up as he spoke. “Yeah. Just fucking left him there like he wasn’t even a person. And not because of his name or any actual reason, but because the guy who killed him did so on a whim—because he thought my dad’s life was worth less than a bug!” Realizing he was now shouting loudly enough to cause Fluffles and Grundor to pause their singing and glance over at him, he released a nervous, awkward laugh. “Wow, sorry. I don’t know where that came from. Sorry to unload all that on you.”

“Oh no, it’s totally cool,” Olivir said. “Repressed emotions suck. I get it. And…I’m sorry about your dad. It was the political guilds, I’m guessing, right?”

“You know about them?” Zach asked, caught off guard.

“Mhm.”

“How?”

Olivir leaned forward in his chair and placed his palms on the table. “I’ll tell you. But first…can I just address the elephant in the room if that’s okay with you? It’s kind of the most important thing before we can really talk. I know you’ve got lots of questions, but I need to ask you one first.”

Knowing exactly where Olivir was going with this, Zach gave him a thumbs-up. “Yeah, go ahead.”

Olivir nodded and then looked him directly in the eyes. “I just want to confirm something one more time, and no matter how you answer, I’m not gonna hurt you, so there’s no reason to lie.” He continued to lock eyes with Zach as he sat up straighter. “So just to get this out of the way once and for all: you didn’t come all the way here to his planet for me, and before today, you had no idea who I was. You also didn’t know vampires were real, and you never had a goal of killing me or anyone close to me. Is all that right?”

Zach replied immediately, enthusiastically, and with no hesitation whatsoever. “One-hundred percent.”

“So, your reasons for coming here to Archian Prime didn’t involve me whatsoever.”

“Not at all,” Zach said. Then he laughed, but more out of frustration and stress than humor. “Gods, believe me, uh, Olivir, the last thing I wanted to do when I came here yesterday was get involved in a conflict on a freezing-cold planet with an army of zombies.” He cringed just at the memory of what he’d been dragged into. “You have no idea how much I did not want to be there. Like, not only didn’t I come here to hurt or kill you, but the most messed-up part of it all is that if I hadn’t stopped for just ten seconds to look at the scenery, we never would’ve even met, and I never would’ve gotten involved. Those ten seconds are what got me into this whole nightmare.”

Olivir reacted to his words by again leaning forward in his chair. He made a questioning “hah?” sound as if he found Zach’s explanation to be comical. “Wait, are you saying you were just passing through? You’re not Queen Vayra’s associate or a friend or something like that?”

At this, Zach gave a firm shake of his head along with a derisive laugh. “Gods no. And uh, yeah, I was just passing through.”

The vampire guffawed. “Oh wow, man, that sucks. Talk about bad luck. See, me and Kol”—his words cut off with the briefest of pauses, but he resumed speaking an instant later—“me and Grundor thought she must’ve called on you or hired you or something.”

Zach twisted his lips in disgust. “She didn’t. I’d never seen her before yesterday. I swear to you.”

Olivir gave him a broad, genuine-looking smile. “I believe you.” Now, with a more serious expression, he lifted his pointer finger and spoke in a more business-like tone. “So, if you were just passing through, it must have been from one of the dungeons, right? It had to be. I mean, it’s the only way to even get here without traveling through space, and last I checked, humans on Galterra don’t know how to do that anymore, so you must have come from one of them—right?” Zach nodded, and for a reason he could not discern, a look of excitement and cheer spread on Olivir’s face. “All right! Awesome! So then, uhm, if you came from a dungeon, that means you might be able to—”

“Wait, hold on a second,” Zach interrupted as he found himself starting to get lost as the conversation progressed. For the first time since entering the kitchen, he felt shocked by something he’d either seen or heard. “What was that last thing you said about people traveling through space?”

“Oh, I was just saying how Galterrans can’t do that anymore—at least as far as I know—so you had to come from a dungeon.”

Zach blinked. “That’s not like a joke or a metaphor?”

“Huh? No, why would it be?”

Zach looked away for just a moment, unsure if he was hearing the vampire properly. Returning his gaze, he said, “It’s just, the way you’re wording it makes it sound like you think people did used to be able to fly through space. As in, you know, the place above us with the stars.”

Olivir squinted as though he thought Zach was messing with him. “You…you didn’t know that?”

“Know what?”

“That humans used to fly to the Galterran moon to hunt bosses and experience.”

Zach narrowed his own eyes skeptically, no longer sure if Olivir was messing with him. “Okay, am I being fucked with?”

“No, dude! For real. People used to fly through space. How do you not know that?”

Zach laughed. “Because that’s ridiculous. I mean, I know it’s possible to launch satellites up there: it’s how our phones work. But people? How would we even do something like that?”

“Didn’t they teach you this in school?” the vampire asked him incredulously. “You fly in a spaceship, obviously. How else would I have gotten here?”

Zach again laughed. “Are you telling me you flew here from space? Come on…”

Olivir crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not lying to you. I came here a long time ago in a ship the elders built when all of my kind fled Galterra to be free from the demands of the political guilds.”

“You what? You’re saying you literally got into a space-DEHV and just…just flew through space to another planet?”

“Well, yeah. But it’s not a ‘space-DEHV’. It’s a spaceship. Or at least that’s what we called them. The other humans couldn’t figure out how to build one, but vampires had the knowledge to do it. So we made one in secret and left. It took us twenty years to reach the jump gate at the edge of the solar system and then another five to reach this planet after like an eight-second jump.”

“That’s…” Zach rubbed his eyes. “It’s not that I’m calling you a liar, but this is all really hard to believe. I mean, wouldn’t that make you like forty years old or something?”

“I can explain that in a second. And hey, I’m a bit surprised, too. You’re telling me no one at your school ever taught you that human beings used to fly in spaceships in ancient history?”

“No,” Zach stated, positive in his answer. “Actually, we were told the complete opposite. They told us that there are trillions of other planets out there, but that visiting any of them is impossible, because nothing can survive in space and that, even if we could build a DEHV capable of reaching it, it would explode from the pressure and so would anyone inside of it.”

Olivir laughed, loudly. “Well that’s obviously bullshit. So not even one of your teachers or books told you about how we used to fly to Galterra’s moon for experience points?”

“Nope. Nothing about that or any kind of ‘jump gate,’ whatever that is.”

“Ahh…well, the jump gate thing is actually not something they know about. I should’ve mentioned that. Most humans have no idea we've flown to other celestial bodies besides the moon, but from what you’re telling me, they don’t even know that anymore.”

“I sure never heard that.”

“Wow,” Olivir said. “Looks like Galterra humans forgot even more of our history over the two-hundred years since I was there. Actually, I should’ve just assumed that at the start. I bet I even know what happened, too.” He tapped his finger against the table and nodded. “Thinking back, I remember that the guilds were wasting so much gold trying to launch rockets capable of carrying humans into orbit, but they kept messing it all up. You know what? Knowing how they operate, they probably just struck everything about spaceflight from the curriculum so they could cancel their space program and future generations wouldn’t ask any questions. It’s a lot cheaper to just erase the fact of spaceflight from history than to spend all that money on rockets.”

Zach curled his lips in an unintentionally sour expression. He was unsure of what to make of any of this. “Olivir, are you telling me you’re two-hundred years old?”

“Two-hundred ten, actually, but I’ll be two-eleven next month.”

“Okay,” Zach said. “Yep, I’m being fucked with.”

At this, Olivir lifted both his hands with his palms facing Zach, and then he shook his head. “No, no, no,” he said. “Zach, I’m not messing with you.”

“Really?” Zach eyed him up and down again, then returned his gaze to the vampire kid’s face. Truly, aside from the paleness and those two fangs, he might’ve even looked younger than Zach, if not by much. “I’m not trying to be an asshole, it’s just that that’s such an incredible thing to hear—and I’m saying that as someone who, at this point, has gotten really used to having to accept things that are way, way out there. So, I guess I don’t not believe you. It’s just…it’s a lot to take in.”

Olivir scrunched his lips together and lowered his eyes for a second or two as if in thought. “Maybe we need to back up a little bit. Before we get into the stuff about how and why you linked up with Queen Vayra, I should probably explain a few things so everything else makes more sense.” He lifted his head, once more confidently meeting Zach’s eyes, and with that, he cleared his throat. “Okay, let’s start with this. So, you already know I’m a vampire, but do you actually know what that even is?”

Zach had only ever heard the word a few times in horror stories, and even then, they were usually only described as background characters. “A vampire is like…it’s basically a person that kills people and eats their blood, right?”

“Ehh, maybe thousands of years ago,” Olivir said. “But today, a vampire is just someone who has vampirism: a permanent, life-altering curse that comes from a boss that doesn’t spawn anymore and can be spread from person to person through resurrection. There are a lot of myths about us, like that we can’t go out in the sun, or that we die if we touch silver. It’s all untrue. We’re just people who have something that’s a curse, but it’s also kind of like a buff in a lot of ways.”

“Wow,” Zach whispered. “What’s it do to you?”

He watched as Olivir drew a breath before continuing. “Well basically, whenever someone becomes a vampire, no matter what level we were before, our level is reset to 1 and we become locked into only having one point in constitution. But there’s a tradeoff, because we gain an entirely new set of abilities and our stats grow way higher elsewhere each time that we level. There’s a few more effects, too.”

The fact that Fylwen had told him much the same actually helped Zach more readily accept what he was hearing as truth. It wasn’t that he trusted Fylwen whatsoever, but rather, given that her explanation was mostly the same as the vampire whom she wanted to kill, it served as a form of corroboration.

“I’m guessing the age thing is another effect, right?” Zach asked.

Olivir smiled. “Yep. Vampires live a long time. Maybe even forever, meaning we might be immortal. But I don’t really know for sure.” He shrugged. “It’s not really clear because we do age: it’s just we do it really, really slowly. No one even knows what the upper-limit is, but I once heard of a vampire who was so old that he had trouble walking, so I’m guessing at some point we die. We probably would’ve found out for sure in another century or two, but Count Archibald—the guy I’m talking about—killed himself after his wife of four-thousand years made a mistake and died to a boss that spawns in a valley about a hundred miles south of here. Anyways, Zach, I’m rambling a bit, but…so basically, I’m over two-hundred years old, and I was born on Galterra just like you. Actually, I grew up in the city of Giant’s Fall, and I was level 24 and sixteen years of age when I was killed during a boss raid and turned by my sire.”

Even though he’d opened his mouth to speak, Zach remained silent. It was not, however, because he intended to be rude. In fact, he was entirely willing to reciprocate with this unexpectedly friendly and likeable vampire whose “army” had given him such a hard time yesterday. First, though, Zach needed just a few moments to process and mull over the incredible things he’d just heard, because honestly? This was a bit of a mental overload. Olivir understood this—or at least Zach assumed he did, because the two-century-old vampire who looked Zach’s age did not appear to have an issue sitting patiently and quietly while Zach rested his forehead in his palms and ran everything that he’d just heard through his brain a few more times.

“Can anyone be a vampire or just humans?” he asked finally.

“Orcs can’t and gnomes can’t, but most other races can,” Olivir answered.

“And that’s how you’ve been alive for so long?”

“Yup.”

“And all it takes to make someone into a vampire is to…” Zach, filling with worry, lifted his index finger and pointed it towards himself. “You just said vampirism is spread through resurrection. So does that mean that now I’m also…?”

Olivir chuckled, and his eyes took on a kind, yet mischievous glow; it was as though he held compassion for Zach’s circumstance while simultaneously finding it funny. “No, you’re not a vampire, dude. You can relax: I didn’t give you the curse. I can bring people back without it—a huge taboo among vampires by the way. Ahh…I did have to have to rush, though, but only because Grundor cut it way too close in bringing you here.”

“Rush?” Zach asked.

He nodded. “Meaning, when I bit into your neck, I bit a bit too hard, and you’re probably going to have scarring.”

“My…neck?” Zach raised his right hand to his chin, then from there, began slowly lowering it downwards until he felt something different right around the middle of his throat. He hissed slightly, wincing as it caused a stinging pain. He couldn’t tell how bad it looked since there weren’t any mirrors in his immediate vicinity.

“It’ll stop hurting in a few days,” Olivir said. Then he crossed his left leg over his right and leaned backwards in his chair as if making himself more comfortable. “But anyways, yeah, you’re not a vampire. You’re still the same you.”

Despite having just met Olivir—and dying in a battle opposed to him—there was a large part of Zach that wanted to trust the boyish-looking vampire. Even still, he knew he needed to confirm the truth for himself. Put simply, after what had happened between him and Queen Vayra, Zach doubted that he’d ever be able to fully trust anyone other than Kalana ever again. How could he now that he knew the price that came with betrayal? Now that he understood what could happen to someone who trusts others thanks to that terrible, soul-lacking, evil Elvish woman that had intentionally and knowingly led him to his death. Thus, Zach needed to reassure himself that he was really here, really alive, and really not some newly reborn vampire. Placing his hand on his shoulder, he tapped four times to bring forward his stats. Then he frowned, as he always did when he saw them appear in the air before him.

Zachys Calador: Level 17

(10000/65000)

Armor Bonus: 12

13 strength

10 dexterity

11 constitution

50 intelligence

7 speed

6 luck

No sooner had Zach brought forward his stats than he recalled Mr. Oren’s warning never to reveal this information to anyone other than someone he’d trust with his life, as it exposed vital information such as his level and his strengths and weaknesses; this information, Zach naturally assumed, could form the basis of whether or not an enemy decided to attack him. Without knowing the specifics of someone’s capabilities, launching an attack on another person was naturally a risky endeavor.

Almost as though he was reading Zach’s mind and knew exactly what was running through his head, Olivir’s lips formed into a cheeky, amused grin. “You know you should be careful about doing that in front of people, right?” he asked with a laugh. “That’s like getting naked in public but only way more dangerous even if it’s not as embarrassing.”

Zach sighed. “Yeah, believe me, I know. I’m a fucking idiot.”

“No you’re not,” Olivir said. “You’re just seventeen and inexperienced. But it’s actually okay, because I’m the one who saved your life. You were dead. So at this point, it’s like…does it really matter if I see your stats? If I wanted you to be dead, uhm, you know, you were dead already, so it’s like how much risk can there be?”

A nervous laugh escaped Zach’s lips. “I guess that’s a fair point.”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Zach watched as Olivir slowly lowered his eyes while he presumably read over Zach’s stats. When all he did was mutter the word “interesting,” Zach’s frown deepened and he dismissed the screen. “You can just say it.”

“Say what?”

“That my stats are terrible and way less than what they should be for my level.”

Olivir snorted. “That doesn’t mean anything, dude. Also, your intelligence stat is really high for a human at that level.”

Zach, without meaning to do so, threw up his arms in self-directed outrage. “I don’t even use that stat!”

“You might later on. But really, I don’t actually think you should care so much.”

Zach lowered his arms back to his sides and dropped his voice back to a conversational level. “I just feel like I’m falling so far behind and I’ll never catch up.”

“Really?” Olivir asked, cocking his right eyebrow. “Because I saw you massacre like over a hundred of my minions of the dark, so you’ve clearly got a lot of fight in you. I’m guessing those numbers don’t…stay that way, right?”

Zach opened his mouth to explain, then closed it. The last time he’d explained to someone how his abilities worked, she’d become so threatened by him that she’d decided to trick him into killing himself. Even though Olivir had saved his life, Zach was fearful that he might have the same reaction upon learning about Unleashed Phase.

As Zach thought these things over, he noticed that Olivir was studying him with an intensity that actually made him uncomfortable. It also caused him to reflect on something particular that Olivir had just said to him. “Wait, what do you mean when you say you saw me massacre your ‘minions of the dark?’”

Olivir shrugged. “I’ve got a couple of ways to observe the battlefield. I’ll tell you about them another time. There’s still a few more important things I really need to talk about with you.” Biting the lower corner of his lip, Olivir’s face tightened, and now, he became far more serious. “I didn’t resurrect you just because I wanted to be nice, Zach. I really need your help with something—if I can trust you. It’s why you’re sitting here right now. Let’s face it, amigo: you owe me.”

“Amigo?”

“It’s Spanish for ‘friend.’”

“Spanish?”

Olivir snickered. “Never mind. A conversation for later. But anyways, you do kind of owe me, ya know.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that was why I was here,” Zach said with an exhale. “I’m not gullible enough to think you brought me back from the dead just to have breakfast—which actually smells amazing, by the way.”

At some point over the past few moments, the smell of Grundor’s cooking had finally reached his nose. The distinct smell of eggs, buttermilk, and something sweet like honey filled his nostrils, the pleasant aroma reminding him that he had not eaten in what was apparently over twenty-five hours. Yet, oddly, he was not hungry. In fact, the very thought of actually consuming food made him a bit nauseous. He wasn’t sure why.

Olivir was now leaning forward with his elbow pressing down onto the table and his chin resting into his palm while he continued to observe Zach with a nearly unblinking gaze. For the moment, he said little, and Zach, becoming somewhat uncomfortable, decided to break a relatively short silence that had come between the two of them.

“It’s true I owe you for saving my life, especially since I was technically your enemy. So I’ll help you if I can. But what happens if you don’t decide to trust me? What’re you…what will happen to me?”

“Absolutely nothing,” Olivir said. “You can walk out of the door and go on doing, uhm, whatever it is you want. I’m not Queen Vayra. There won’t be any last-minute backstabs or that kind of stuff. Not from me, nope. You can literally just go. I don’t have any traps to spring.”

Would he really let me go that easily?

Despite coming across as nothing but kind and considerate, Zach was not ashamed of his skepticism. If anything, he was proud of it. After what had happened to him, he needed to be a lot more skeptical from now on. He needed to be much wiser about trusting people. This was a life lesson learned in death: and one that he would never allow himself to forget. Even still, given the situation, Olivir had done a lot so far to make Zach feel as though he could trust him—at least as much as he could trust anyone anymore.

Realizing that his throat had gone a bit dry, he reached across the table and grabbed the side of an elegant, blue-and-white ceramic pitcher, containing what looked and smelled like orange juice. As he went to grab it, his hand, still shaking, had trouble finding its grip. His arm, too, felt weak to the extent he could not lift it. Finally, after nearly ten seconds of struggling, Olivir half stood up, grabbed the pitcher, and poured a cup of it for him into an equally beautiful mug that contained images of harps and other musical instruments.

“Thanks,” Zach said. “How long until these side effects wear off, by the way?”

For some reason, a very, very uneasy look came across Olivir’s face, and of all things, he turned his head to look at Fluffles, who was oddly staring right back at him. Up until now, the vampire had seemed very assertive and sure of himself. But something was clearly different. He now seemed indecisive and hesitant. Was there something important Olivir wasn’t telling him? Was Zach being foolish to think he could at least partially trust the guy? And seriously, why were him and Fluffles exchanging such knowing glances?

“What’s going on?” Zach asked, becoming worried. “Is there something you’re not telling me about these side effects? Am I not going to be okay?”

“Zach, there’s…”

“What?” Zach demanded. “Just please, tell me. I can handle it.” His hands and feet had not stopped jittering since he’d entered the kitchen—or really, since he’d woken up. “Is there some kind of permanent damage to me?”

“No,” Olivir said. “Well, at least not from what I did.”

“Then when will these side effects go away?”

Finally, with a bizarrely compassionate-sounding sigh, Olivir said, “Zach, there are no side effects. Other than that painful bite mark on your neck, I mean.”

Zach frowned. “Like hell there aren’t! I can’t even pick up a pitcher. Look, I know I’m lucky to be alive, so I’m not blaming you for any of this. But I need to know what to expect going forward.”

“Those aren’t side effects of resurrection,” Olivir again insisted. “Bite mark aside, you’re actually fully healed, dude.”

Zach raised his shaking hands to his face. “Then what the fuck is this?”

Olivir wet his lips and opened his mouth, then hesitated. It was like he had something he wanted to say but didn’t want to say it—or no, wait. That wasn’t it either, was it? Zach regarded him a moment, trying to piece together the cause of Olivir’s reluctance. Only then did he realize it wasn’t reluctance: it was caution. The look on his face was the look his mother used to give him when she wanted to tell him something important that might upset him, so she tried to phrase it in a way that wouldn’t make things worse.

“Zach, you’re shaking because you’re really, really traumatized.”

“I’m what?”

“You have PTSD, and the sedative I gave you earlier is wearing off, and I can’t give you another. You…you don’t remember anything about last night, do you?”

“Last night?”

At this, Fluffles hissed. “Nothing happen! Vampire man is lying!” Zach turned his head to the left just in time to see Fluffles jumping onto the table. “Vampire man keep stupid mouth closed or Fluffles bite again!”

“What’s he talking about?” Zach asked Olivir. “What do you both know that I don’t?”

Rather than reply to Zach, Olivir smiled at Fluffles and attempted to pet him. The cat’s response was to lift his paw and swipe the air in front of his hand. “Vampire man stupid! Zach was a very good human and did nothing wrong.”

Despite Fluffles’ claim, a growing sense of wrongness came upon Zach, and it became amplified as, for the second time, Olivir attempted to pet Fluffles. This time, he allowed it. “I kind of have to tell him, Fluffles. He needs to hear it. You’re not protecting him by hiding the truth.”

Fluffles again hissed, but thankfully did not strike the vampire, whose single point in constitution would not protect him if Fluffles tried to swipe at him with any real force. It would be a tragedy if his cat murdered someone at the breakfast table right before his eyes. Bracing himself, Zach said, “Please, just tell me and make it quick.”

Olivir once again met his gaze. “All right. Zach, the reason that I had to put you on that operating table and strap you in isn’t because I thought you’d wake up and decide to kill me. It’s because you already did.”

Zach recoiled, pressing his back against the chair. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m just going to tell you the truth, because you need to hear it even if it hurts. When I brought you back, I had Grundor carry you upstairs and tuck you into a nice, warm bed. You slept for about ten hours. But then, in the middle of the night, you started screaming and bashing apart the room. I’d never heard anyone scream so loudly before.”

Zach shook his head. “I didn’t. That didn’t happen.”

He continued, “Fluffles and I came to check on you, but you attacked us. I would’ve died if Fluffles hadn’t been there. And…”

“And what?” At the sight of Olivir bracing himself, Zach’s hands began to tremble even more wildly. “What? What happened?”

“Vampire man lie!” Fluffles said. “Nothing happen. Zach and Fluffles best friends.”

Olivir looked first at Fluffles, and then at Zach, and Zach suddenly found it difficult to breathe. He had absolutely no memory whatsoever of any of this, and yet such a dark, wicked feeling entered into him that he honestly feared he might lose consciousness.

“What happened?” he whispered, his voice only barely managing to escape him. The concern in Olivir’s eyes only seemed to heighten his fear and his sense of wrongness. “What…what happened?”

“Your cat tried to get you to calm down, but you started to fight. You were screaming, but I couldn’t understand what you were saying. I ordered Grundor to rush down to my alchemy station and get a sedative, and even though he moved as fast as he could, we were too late. You—”

“Don’t say it,” Zach begged. “Don’t say it.”

“You killed him.”

Zach furiously shook his head. “That’s a lie! Tell him that’s a lie.”

“It’s a lie!” Fluffles shouted. “See? I tell Zach vampire man lying. Vampire man is stupid and make up stories to upset Zach and Fluffles.”

“If I wasn’t there,” Olivir said, ignoring the cat and keeping his attention focused solely on Zach, “Fluffles would’ve stayed dead. I had to bring him back just like I brought you back. If you don’t believe me, there’s a bite mark under his fur in the middle of his back.”

Zach looked over to Fluffles, who spun around and jumped off the table and returned to Grundor. “Vampire man is lying because he is mean and stupid. Zach never hurt Fluffles.”

“That’s right,” Zach said, nodding. “That’s not even possible. There isn’t any universe where I’d do that. I’d rather die. I would rather fucking die.”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Olivir said. “Clearly, it was an accident.”

Zach wanted to scream, but the weakness in him became stronger and stronger. “Why are you telling me this? Just tell me what you want from me, and I’ll help you and be on my way.”

Without even waiting to hear Olivir’s reply, Zach got up from the table and hurried over to Fluffles, scooping the cat up and hugging him tightly. Like water breaking through a dam, he began to weep like he hadn’t since he was a child, burying his face in the cat’s fur, soaking it in the process.

“Please tell me I didn’t do it. Please tell me I didn’t do it. I love you so much, and I wouldn’t hurt you, Fluffles. I swear I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t. I swear. I wouldn’t even be capable of it. You know me. You know I wouldn’t.”

“It not true,” the cat said. “Vampire man lying again.”

“He’s lying. He has to be. It’s impossible. You’re much higher level than me. You wouldn’t let me just kill you. Right? You’d protect yourself.”

The sickness inside of him exploded as even the mere thought of hurting any cat, let alone Fluffles, filled him with such dread, such fear, such revulsion that it caused him to break down to the point he no longer cared where he was or who was watching him or how unmanly it looked. He merely bawled, unable to stop himself.

“As I was saying,” Olivir said, “I don’t know you, Zach. But honestly? Just from what little I’ve heard, I already know you saw your father’s body in a really bad state, I know you were betrayed and killed by the Elvish queen, and I know when you showed up here, you were missing an eye and a limb. And something tells me that’s still not the extent of it, is it?”

“I’m fine,” Zach said. “Really, I’m just having a bad week.”

Olivir made a slight chuckle. Zach could hear him approach from his footsteps behind, but with his face buried in Fluffles’ fur, he could see nothing around him. “The reason I’m not sure if I can trust you is because I need you to save what’s most important to me in this whole damn world, and…and I don’t know if you’re okay right now to do that. It took me a year to get over dying, and if it was just that, it’d be one thing, but I get the sense that yesterday was just another layer.”

“I’m fine,” Zach insisted. “Can’t someone just have a bad day anymore?”

“You’re in total denial,” Olivir said. “I’m over two-hundred years old, and like…for a vampire, that’s basically an infant, but for a human, that’s a lot. And the only reason I bring that up is to say that I know what trauma looks like. You can’t be around for two centuries and not know it when you see it, and you’ve got it really, really bad.”

Zach brought himself under control. He reminded himself that he was a man now, not a boy. What kind of man bawled like an infant this way? If he wanted to be able to look himself in the mirror ever again, he needed to pull himself together, suck this the fuck up, and get over it. Seriously, wasn’t that why he’d come out here in the first place? So that he could get over this Gods-be-damned “jitter” that Ziragoth had put into him? That’s all this was. A hiccup. He was a gods-damned man. Men pulled themselves together. Men picked themselves up. They didn’t cry. They didn’t break down.

Pulling himself out of whatever slump he was in, he somehow, miraculously, whipped himself back into form. His hands stopped shaking, his tears stopped flowing, and as though the Gods themselves had intervened on his behalf, he truly did pull himself together. He kissed Fluffles on the forehead.

“I don’t know what happened, but I swear to the Gods if I ever hurt you, I want you to kill me and don’t think twice about it.” Again, he hugged his cat. “Please promise me that.”

Fluffles wriggled his way out of Zach’s arms and then, without offering any kind of reply, scampered off back to the other side of the counter to hang out with Grundor. Zach, still breathing a bit heavily, craned his neck as he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s sit back down, okay?”

He nodded. “All right.”

Once more returning to their seats at the table, Olivir waited for Grundor to place a plate in front of each of them before he began speaking. Lowering his eyes, Zach found himself beyond amazed by what he saw: stacks of pancakes already smothered with maple syrup along with scrambled eggs and cheese, hashbrowns, sausage links, and even mashed potatoes. His stomach ached with hunger, yet he still felt queasy at the thought of eating.

“Did I really do it?” he asked.

“In a way, you didn’t,” Olivir replied. “It clearly wasn’t you. But you were still responsible. And if it had happened anywhere in this universe but here, uhm, you’d be feeling a whole lot worse.”

Tears once more threatened to appear unbidden in his eyes. He fought them. Gods, he fought them. He held them back like they were acidic and would melt his eyeballs. “I just can’t accept…it’s too much.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Fluffles really didn’t care about anything other than you finding out. I’m not exaggerating or saying that to make you feel better, either. As hard to believe as it is—and it really is hard to believe—Fluffles truly didn’t seem to care that he’d died. Not even in the slightest. I mean, literally zero, Zach.”

Zach wasn’t sure how to respond to that, as he didn’t fully comprehend what he was being told. “How do you know that?”

Olivir’s lips twisted, then twitched, and to Zach’s shock, he actually began to laugh. First, he snorted, and then he covered his mouth before literally spitting through his fingertips. “I’m sorry. I can’t—can’t help it,” he said as he began to cackle. “It was just too unexpected and funny.”

“What was?”

“When I bring someone back, they usually sleep for at least ten hours before waking up. Fluffles woke up within a few seconds—and bit me. Really hard, too. He said it was because I bit him first and that—”

“Vampire man did bite Fluffles first!” the cat shouted with a hiss. “Fluffles do self-defense. Vampire man started fight and Fluffles win.”

Olivir rolled his eyes. “I was saving you. It wasn’t a fight.”

The cat meowed. “It still count. No one bite Fluffles for free.” The cat spun around and lifted his head so that he looked up at Grundor. “I want food.”

With another chuckle, Olivir explained to Zach that the cat had gotten it into his head somehow that, because Olivir had drank some of his blood, Olivir had to feed him two dinners instead of one despite him already having been fed dinner. The result was that Fluffles lost patience and decided to use a magical projectile to blast open the cellar door and steal a pound of smoked fish, which he then ate until the point that he puked. He’d then blamed Olivir for “allowing” him to do that.

“I kept checking to make sure Fluffles was okay, but within an hour of coming back, he was running around the estate playing happily with Grundor. The only time he seemed even slightly upset or angry was when he would go into a rant about some dog that he hated.”

Almost as if on cue, a low, rumbling meow came from Fluffles, who lifted his head from a bowl containing sliced chicken. “Fluffles hate Chumpkenwiffles. Grundor know what happen? I tell.”

“You told me so many times, kitty cat,” the zombie moaned. Even still, the cat launched into a loud, angry diatribe about his encounter with “the worst creature in the world” and how terrible and awful it was, claiming that “Chumpkenwiffles” was his number-one worst enemy, and that he would get revenge someday.

Zach forced a smile onto his face that he didn’t really feel. His emotions were a mess right now, but he was at least keeping it together. One thing was for sure: he had a new scar now, one borne of guilt. There was nothing—not one single damned thing—that anyone would ever be able to say to him for the rest of his life that would lessen the guilt inside him even the slightest bit. For him to have done what Olivir claimed, Zach would never forgive himself. This was completely regardless of whatever Fluffles said or how Fluffles felt. No wonder he had felt so sick to his stomach this morning. There must have been some part of him that knew. Just like there was some part of him that knew the World Eater was going to spawn in five more—

What?

Zach blinked in confusion. There was something very important he was forgetting, but he couldn’t remember what. Either way, he needed to eat, even if he didn’t want to. He forced himself to consume some of the food, which his body craved, yet his mind rejected—or maybe it was the other way around. It was actually, in a sense, too difficult to even be sure. Yet he forced it down anyway, bite after bite.

During the course of breakfast, chatter was thankfully light. The only things they really discussed were the weather patterns on Archian prime. Zach wanted to know why it was so damned cold, and Olivir had explained to him that it was because, on this planet, they were currently in the middle of winter. He then claimed that their summers were every bit as beautiful and hot as their winters were cold and painful. Ultimately, Zach did manage to finish half of the breakfast, and before long, Grundor had come around to collect their plates.

Feeling much more like himself, Zach gripped his hands into fists, rotated the muscles in his shoulders, and shrugged off the pain like it was a fly on his shoulder. “Let’s talk about whatever it is you saved me to do,” Zach said.

Olivir was slowly stroking his chin, studying Zach as he’d done before. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Definitely. I’m fine now.”

“Maybe for now. But you need to get yourself help at some point. I don’t know what happened to you, dude, but it couldn’t have just been one or two things. You’ve gone through a lot of fear and pain. I can tell.”

Zach waved off the vampire’s concern. “Trust me, I’m fine. What you saw before was…like I said, I had a really rough week. I took a lot of hits and got hurt in a lot of ways, but it’s out of my system now.”

Olivir frowned. “If you say so.” Much lower, under his breath, and at a tone Zach could only barely discern, he muttered, “I care too much about people, and that’s why I’m in the mess I’m in.”

“Huh? What mess?”

“Before I can tell you, we need to finish the conversation we were having before.”

Zach stared off to the side for a moment, trying to recall where they’d left off. “Oh, right, Queen Vayra.”

“Yup. I kind of need to know how you crossed paths and why you chose to side with her against me.”

Zach released a bout of laughter, and this time, it really was good hearted as the absurdity of how this had all happened really sank in. “It all started with her dog yelling for help.”

“Is this the same dog your cat hates?”

“Yes. Basically, here’s what happened…”

In as much detail as possible, he explained to Olivir how he’d been about to leave Archian Prime when he’d heard a cry for help as the battle had moved from the forest into the open field that ran for a few miles until coming to an end at the base of the hill, on top of which he’d been observing. He then explained how he saw Queen Vayra about to be killed.

“So that’s what happened,” Olivir said, sighing. “You saw a woman in danger and decided to save her.”

“Well, that’s only partially why,” Zach said. Again, he laughed. “This is the crazy part. Believe it or not, she looked exactly like my girlfriend. From a distance, I couldn’t tell them apart.”

As he continued laughing, Olivir had the totally opposite reaction, his eyes beginning to widen fearfully and his lips pulling back slightly to reveal his fangs. When Zach caught sight of this reaction, his laughter cut off immediately, and he nervously took another sip of his orange juice. “Olivir, did I say something wrong?”

“No, it’s just…” Olivir muttered something under his breath, then craned his neck back and forth between Grundor and Fluffles before again regarding Zach. “When you say she looked exactly like your girlfriend: what do you mean by that?”

It only then occurred to Zach that, even though Kalana was a completely different person, Olivir might be a bit uncomfortable with the whole situation given his intense dislike of her mother. Even still, that was no reason to hold it against her.

“So, the reason I was laughing so hard before—and I can see this is way too personal for you to find funny—is that the girl I’m dating is actually her daughter. Her name is—”

“Kalana Vayra!” he shouted furiously, slamming both his fists down onto the table and causing his orange-juice-filled mug to turn over onto its side and spill the contents on the floor. The fury in his voice blasted Zach with confusion, as every last trace of confidence in Olivir’s expression seemed to be ripped out of him. Now, what was almost certainly an unholy mixture of fear and anger flooded in to take its place; his pupils became dilated, his mouth fell open, and his hands gripped the sides of his chair. “You’re dating Kalana Vayra! Gods, tell me this is some sick joke!”

Becoming somewhat defensive, Zach held out his palm and raised his voice, though only slightly. “You’re getting the wrong idea,” he said. “Like I told you before, this really was a coincidence. If you’re trying to imply that I had any—”

Olivir now held up his own palm, mirroring Zach. “No, I know you…I know you were telling me the truth. I know you were only there by chance, and I believe you when you say this is all one big coincidence. I’m not angry at you, Zach. I’m pissed at your girlfriend. Even hearing her name gets me seething.”

It was all Zach could do not to glare at Olivir—or anyone who spoke in a negative way about Kalana. Only his gratitude and debt to the vampire kept him from losing his cool. “Why the hell are you mad at Kalana? You don’t even know her.”

Olivir grunted, loudly. “She’s the reason for all of my problems. Everything that’s happened—it’s all because of her. And you know what? That’s probably a big part of why the queen killed you, too. Gods, it always comes back to that damn daughter of hers!”

“Easy,” Zach warned. “I love her.”

Olivir, as if only just now realizing that Zach would not take his words very well, offered a quick, but sincere-sounding apology and then lowered his voice. “I don’t think I can trust you after all. Not for any fault of your own, but because the conflict of interest is just too much, dude. And I can’t risk something so important to me.”

Becoming even more confused, Zach got out of his chair, stretched the muscles in his back, and took a few deep breaths while he thought over the vampire’s words. Yet he just couldn’t seem to piece together any kind of understanding from them. “You must be mistaken,” he said. “Whatever it is you’re upset about, you’re putting it on the wrong girl.”

“I’m not,” Olivir said. “Kalana Vayra is the source of my misery.”

“That’s literally impossible,” Zach said, desperate to reason with him. “It actually can’t be.”

“And why’s that?”

Zach pointed to himself. “Because I basically grew up with her even before I loved her, and I can tell you beyond all doubt, she’s never even been here to Archian Prime. Whatever you think she’s done, it’s just not possible.”

“It’s not about what she’s done. It’s about what she allows to be done in her name. I’m being hunted by her mother because of her. Just because she’s okay with letting someone else do her dirty work, it doesn’t make it okay or mean that she’s not still personally re—”

“Wait a minute, though,” Zach said, lifting his head somewhat as it became apparent that the source of Olivir’s anger was due to an extreme misunderstanding. “I think you’re confused about something.”

“How am I confused?”

Zach actually chuckled as it dawned on him just how badly Olivir’s understanding of the situation happened to be. “I don’t know what you think you know about Kalana, but she’s basically in the same situation as me.”

“Meaning what?”

“Okay, so get this: not only doesn’t she know that you exist, this place exists, or that this planet exists, but I’m pretty sure—like more than ninety percent—that she doesn’t even know that her mother’s still alive. Do you understand what I’m saying? She doesn’t even know that any of this is happening. She knows less than I do, and everything I know I found out yesterday.”

Olivir again grunted. “But when she finds out, she’ll—”

“No, you really don’t understand her. Like, at all.”

“Oh really?” Olivir asked sardonically. “So you’re saying she’s not an egotistical Elvish princess with a God complex?

Zach made a weak, nervous laugh. “She’s…okay, she has some of that. I won’t lie to you. She’s definitely got the whole God complex thing going on right now. Honestly, I don’t know what’s up with that.” He shook his head. “But! I would swear on my life ten times over that she would never hurt you. She might have the ego of her mom about some things, but her kindness and compassion reminds me of yours, if I’m being honest. She would never hurt you. I swear to you she wouldn’t. And when I tell her what her mom did, I’m going to have to stop her from going after her own mother. Actually…” Zach shuddered. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell her about that after all.”

Olivir had been about to speak, but then he halted, and his mouth snapped shut. For several seconds, he stared at Zach as though Zach had jut said the most ridiculous few words ever spoken. Finally, he asked, “Are you saying that she would kill her own mother over a human? You’ve got to be exaggerating.”

“I wish I was exaggerating,” Zach said with a moan. “Gods, there’s no way I can keep this a secret from her, but I don’t know how to tell Kal that I was literally killed by her mother without having her chop her mom into little pieces.”

“This is just too…now I know how you felt earlier,” Olivir whispered. “What you’re saying to me is too much. How am I supposed to believe any of that?”

“I don’t know,” Zach said. “But either way, if the reason you’re angry is because of Kal, you don’t have to be. Kalana is a good person. Maybe the best person I know. And I promise you that she would never—”

“Do you really mean that?” shouted a girl’s voice from somewhere off behind him and across the kitchen. Startled, Zach swung spun around while, in the exact same moment, Olivir jumped out of his seat, leapt onto the table, darted across it, and then leapt down the other side, placing himself directly in front of Zach. For a moment, Zach thought he was about to find himself under attack, but all Olivir did was extend his arm in the direction of the double-doors that led into the main hall of the estate.

“You can’t come out!” he shouted. “You can’t reveal yourself. Please, don’t!”

Whoever he was calling out to did not obey. Strolling assertively into the kitchen, with golden hair, wonderous eyes, and a face that Zach would recognize from a mile away, was a girl who, this time around, he forcibly reminded himself could not possibly be Kalana, even as a sense of déjà vu struck him and made him wonder if the Gods had sent him to some kind of hell where he had to experience things on a loop.

“You shouldn’t be in here, Kolona,” Olivir begged, taking powerful steps across the kitchen to meet her. Please, my love. Don’t say anything that might help the queen to—”

“Is it true?” she asked, her voice demanding yet still somehow remaining kind. She stepped around Olivir, avoiding his attempt to grab her, and then she marched over to Zach, who immediately blushed and felt his entire body soften with a number of confused feelings as he attempted to remind himself that this girl in front of him, this beautiful, golden-haired angel of an Elf—this was not his Kalana. And the freckles on her face were proof of that! Even if all her other proportions were…uh…correct.

“You know Kalana?”

“Know her? I love her,” Zach said. “Who are you?”

“Don’t tell him,” Olivir said. “I haven’t decided yet if we can—”

“My name is Kolona Vayra, first-cousin to Kalana Vayra and niece of Queen Vayra. My father is Arel Vayra, brother of Eldora Vayra, both who have died and left this world. That’s who I am.”

Zach, having no idea how to respond to something like that, offered Kolona his hand, and she took it. Briefly, the two shook, as Olivir visibly fretted beside them. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kolona. I’m Zachys Calador. Also, by ‘left this world’, do you mean dead?”

Her eyes lowered as a sadness came upon her. “Yes. My father was killed by Peter IV, as was Eldora.”

“Hah?” Zach asked, twisting his lips. “Since when?”

“What…do you mean?”

“By ‘Eldora,’ you mean Kal’s dad, right?”

“Yes, of course.”

Zach scratched his head. “Uh, he’s not dead. Actually, he’s doing great last I checked. In fact, I spoke to him on the phone not all that—”

“THE KING IS ALIVE?” both Kolona and Olivir shouted in unison as they stood side by side, their mouths agape and their eyes widened in what Zach could only call an extreme state of shock and disbelief. For some reason, Zach’s words had actually stunned them into silence. For a few seconds, he’d worried that he’d somehow literally petrified them and turned them into stone and that they would remain that way forever. But finally, after a very awkward few moments, they both turned to face one another, their faces now lighting up with equal parts wonder and amazement.

Olivir again looked back to Zach. “Are you sure about this? One-hundred percent sure?”

“We’re talking about Kalana’s dad, right? Eldora Vayra?”

“Yes,” Kolona said. “King Eldora, as he would have been if he didn’t—if we hadn’t been told of his death. Are you saying you know him? Really?”

“Know him? The guy used to drive me and Kal to the movies on weekends. He was actually there the day my dad died. It was him they were looking for—ah, but don’t worry. That all worked out in the end.”

Zach knew he was going to have to elaborate, as this clearly seemed to be a very important piece of information to the girl, and so after giving Kolona a description of Eldora just to reassure her that they were talking about the same guy, he then recounted the story with much more specificity of the day his father had died. Kolona surprised him by running forward and wrapping him in a hug.

“I’m so sorry my family has cost you so much,” she said, weeping. “Thank you for saving my uncle, and I am so sorry that his existence cost you your father.”

“It’s not your fault or his. It’s Varsh’s fault. Your uncle didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t blame you, him, or Kal for what happened. No one should be kidnapped in their own home.”

She released him, and then Zach watched as Olivir placed a hand on his own chest; by the sound of the exhale he made, it was clear that a great sense of relief had rushed into him, even if Zach could not quite understand why. “This makes everything so much better,” he said at last.

“How so?”

“Because the favor I really needed from you, Zach, is to take what’s most important to me in this world”—he waved an arm in Kolona’s direction—“to safety. The truth is, Queen Vayra is going to find this place, likely by tomorrow night if not earlier. But if King Vayra is still alive, and if you can somehow find a way to get Kolona to him, he will protect her at all costs. She is the child of his dear brother. He will never allow Queen Vayra to harm her. The love that man had for his brother, and the grief he felt at his death…it’s inconceivable that he would allow his niece to be hurt, not even by his estranged wife.”

Zach smiled. “Well, you’re in luck—I think.”

“Hmm? What do you mean, Zach?”

Rather than answer, he responded with another question. “How far are we right now from that hill that I fell down yesterday?”

“The one with those low-level pumpkins and scarecrows?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Offering him a curious but hopeful glance, Olivir paused a moment and said, “About twenty minutes by skeleton horse or an hour on foot. If you needed to go there, I could summon the horses and take us stealthily.”

Now, Zach paused to calculate a few things in his head. “Okay, then in that case, while maybe not true in the technical sense, in the actual sense, Eldora and Kalana are only like an hour and a half away from here, depending on how you look at it, I mean.”

Having been the confused one all night, it was almost a relief to see Olivir now the one with all the questions burning in his head. “What do you mean?”

Zach felt himself becoming more energetic and hopeful as he explained. “So, the dungeon I came here in leads out to a floor called B4, which is really short, and so is B5. After that is B6, which is just a really long hallway, and then through there you end up on this beautiful beach in Shadowfall Coast. Kalana and her father are just a couple of miles from there with a whole bunch of really good people that I know.”

Olivir reacted to Zach’s explanation with a stunningly mismatched display of equal parts relief and worry. “Why are they all gathered together like that? Is there a reason?”

“Oh, yeah, it’s for a boss raid.”

“Ahh, of course,” Olivir said after a moment, a chuckle following his words. “Who’re they up against.”

“There’s this dragon thing. It’s…it’s kind of the thing that hurt me really badly.”

“I saw that,” Kolona said sweetly, her face softening. “You were missing your arm and an eye. You poor thing. Did that dragon do it to you?”

“Sure did,” Zach said. Very briefly, he explained how he’d been fighting a hitwoman in a small town when a dragon had spawned and he’d been forced to fight it alone for a minute and forty-two seconds while as many people escaped as possible. “It’s been in my head ever since,” he finished. “It’s why I crossed paths coincidentally with Queen Vayra. I was only in that dungeon to try to regain my courage. And that’s when all this happened.”

Olivir’s face lit up with understanding. “Everything finally makes sense now,” he whispered. “You just filled in all the pieces for me. But listen, Zach, you don’t need to feel any kind of shame. Trust me: dragons are a bunch of pricks. I’ve had to kill a few myself. There’s no shame at all in being frightened of them. Which one spawned, anyway? Let me guess: Golarth. That’s a nasty one and also a determined roamer. I know how to beat it, though. When does it roam over to their camp?”

“It should get there in like…actually, I think in just a few hours from now. And no, it’s not any ‘Golarth.’ I have no idea what that is. This one’s called Ziragoth.”

Olivir’s reaction was one that caught Zach so off guard he almost stumbled backwards and fell over. The vampire, who looked like a kid Zach’s age, slapped his own forehead, moaned loudly, and now a look of pure, utter frustration popped into his face as he grabbed a lock of his silver hair and tugged on it. “Fuck!” he shouted. “You’re kidding me. Gods-damn it!” He unleashed a series of expletives dirty enough to make Zach feel like he was listening to a recording of himself as a nervous pain entered into his belly. He couldn’t help but wonder why that name had rattled Olivir so much.

Whirling around, Olivir turned to face Kolona, and he grabbed her shoulders. “Looks like we need to come up with another plan. We could try Earth. Maybe Zach can—”

“Wait, wait, hold up!” Zach yelled, cutting him off. “What other plan? What’s the problem?”

Olivir released Kolona, made a fist, and then tapped it against Zach’s chest as his voice suddenly turned remorseful and pained. “You’ve been through so much. I don’t even know if I can tell you this.”

“Tell me what?” Zach asked. “No more games. What’s going on?”

“You’re sure this is Ziragoth, right?”

“Yeah. Believe me, I know the name of the fucking bastard that ripped off my arm and gouged out my eye. It’s kind of hard to forget it when I see it every time I go to sleep. It was the worst thing that ever happened to me—uh, maybe. Shit, now it might be the second worst. Gods, no wonder I’m all screwed up. But yeah, I remember that Gods-be-damned thing’s name. You don’t have to worry, though. Right now, all my new friends and Kalana are over there waiting for it, and they’ve got the best Galterra has to offer, so it is going to die.”

Olivir took a long, deep breath, then exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, but Kalana and all your friends are basically dead. There’s nothing you can do, and it’s over.”

“Like fucking hell it is!” Zach shouted, both appalled and horrified. “Why would you even say that?”

“Because there’s no damn way your friends in Galterra are killing that thing. That’s a double-phased enemy.”

“A what?”

“It means after you get it half health, it regenerates back to full and enters a second phase: in this case, making it five times as strong and ten times as aggressive. Your friends are going to die, North Bastia is going to be burned to the ground, and then it’s going to fly from continent to continent killing everyone else. Galterra is done for. But we still have Earth, Zeux II, Zeux III, The Horizons of—”

“I won’t accept that,” Zach said, shaking his head. “Donovan Iseldar is there. He’s the leader of the God-Slayers Guild.”

Olivir sighed. “I don’t care who he is. He’s dead. Ever since our genius political guilds began dismantling all the spawn points for the sake of safety, our world became unable to deal with threats like these, because it requires a whole lot more than just a few-hundred adventurers to take down a dragon God.”

“A what?” Zach asked. “Is that another name for a superboss?”

“No, it’s worse than a superboss. It goes: mobs, bosses, superbosses, God bosses, and then planet destroyers—which as the name suggests, destroy planets. God bosses, though, they just kill everyone on it without ruining the planet itself. Regardless, your friends don’t even know what they’re about to fight.”

“Well, how do you know?”

Olivir snapped his fingers. “Grundor, can you go to the library please and get the Ziragoth file?”

Grundor, who had been cleaning the kitchen up until this point and had clearly not been paying attention, actually dropped a plate, causing it to shatter as he shrieked. “Whoah, who’s fighting Ziragoth? That thing spawned already?”

“Yes,” Zach grunted.

“What was that like? Grundor asked, hurrying over.

His patience shot, Zach muttered, “Painful and really unpleasant.”

“S-sorry,” Grundor said. “That was a dick thing to ask. Okay, I’ll get you the file.” He then hurried away, and the sound of his massive feet banging on stairs resounded throughout the estate as he went wherever it was that he was going.

While they waited for him, Olivir continued his explanation. “Most of what I know, I know from vampires who are way, way older than me. Some of these guys are in their thousands. One of them, Archivist Master Count Cadogan, told me about Ziragoth about eighty years ago when we were going camping together. I distinctly remember it because he told me it’d been something he’d had to deal with during his early years as a vampire. It’s no wonder you’re so traumatized. That must have been what you were fighting in your dreams. Was it?”

Zach did not reply, as he could no longer bear to talk about that subject with Olivir. Luckily, Olivir picked up on that did not ask him a second time when no answer came. Trying to keep focused, Zach approached closer to Olivir and met his eyes. “Please, I need to help them. I need to warn them.”

“I know,” Olivir said. “It’s not going to do a thing for you, but I’ll give you the file in exchange for taking Kolona to a safe planet. We’ll be cutting it close on time, but—”

“No!” Kolona shouted, surprising them both. Zach flinched, and so did Olivir. Grabbing his arm and tugging him slightly in her direction, she asked, “My cousin, Kalana. Are you sure about what you said?”

“You mean about there being no way she’d ever hurt you?” He waited for Kolona to nod before continuing. “Of course I’m sure. Without any doubt in this world.”

“Then I’m not abandoning her. I’m going with you to Galterra—Olivir shush! I love you so much, and you are everything to me too, but my cousin is still alive, and she’s not what you said she was. I remember her. I knew in my heart it couldn’t be true: she couldn’t be like her mother.”

“She’s not,” Zach said. “Like I said, she’s definitely gotten a bit…not sure what word to use. I guess you could say ‘full of herself’ since becoming powerful, but not in a malicious or evil way. She does think she’s a God, and I realize that sounds bad, but the flipside to that is she sort of thinks she’s a benevolent God and not like a fiery one that kills people. Heh, that’s the kind I’d probably be if I had the power she has. I’m just so pissed at everything.”

For some reason, his words caused an even sharper reaction of alarm to pop into Olivir’s eyes than the name of Ziragoth had. Or maybe Zach was mistaken, because it was gone so quickly, he could not really be sure it had been there at all.

“This is a mistake, Kolona,” Olivir said. “When I die to Queen Vayra, I want to die knowing you’re going to be okay.”

As Grundor returned with a paper-based file—Zach had been expecting something electronic—he stuffed it into his tunic and shot a questioning look Olivir’s way. “What do you mean when you die to Queen Vayra?”

He gave Zach a pat on the back. “I can’t come with you guys.”

“Sure you can. Why stay here and die? Maybe you can help kill Ziragoth.”

“I would if I could, but I literally can’t.”

At this, Kolona began to tear up. “It’s true. I can’t accept it myself, but I know it’s true.”

“But why?” Zach asked them both.

It was Kolona who answered. “Only Elves and people with that buff can go in the dungeons.”

“Why, what happens if someone who doesn’t have it tries to enter?”

“Nothing,” Olivir said. “There’s a barrier on the door we can’t get through.”

At this, Zach couldn’t help but smile as he said, “That’s not a problem, Olivir. I can get you in.”

Upon hearing his words, both Kolona and Olivir spoke at the same time.

“Really?” Kolona asked excitedly, her voice full of hope.

“You can’t,” Olivir insisted, his tone sad and somewhat defeated. Then, to Kolona, he said, “He can’t, my love. I know what he wants to do, but it won’t work?”

“You have no idea what I plan to do,” Zach said with a glare. “I have an ability that—”

“I know what your ability does. I saw it. The one with the blueish energy that teleported those Elvish warriors away from my Blood-Hunting Maneaters. That one, right?”

Zach nodded. “Yeah.”

Olivir sighed sadly. “That’ll never work.”

“But why?”

“Because while you’re standing on one side of the door, and I’m standing on the other, visually, it might look like I’m only ten or so feet away, right?”

“Okay, yeah, so?”

“Well, the truth is, I’m actually two-hundred light years away. By galactic standards, that’s the equivalent of a single bus stop. By human standards, that’s a distance so far and so vast that if Galterra exploded right now this second, no one here would be able to tell for two-hundred years.”

Zach rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger as he tried to see the problem here. “I don’t think that’ll be an issue. Meaning, if it’s the range you’re worried about.”

“Of course it will be,” Olivir insisted, now sounding a little annoyed on top of worried. “I really do appreciate you trying to help, but you need to visualize this not with your eyes but with your brain. I don’t know what the range on that ability is, but I’m sure it’s not two-hundred light years.”

Zach grinned. “Actually, it’s boundless.”

“It’s what?”

“If I show you, do you promise not to suddenly view me as a serious threat and then kill me like Queen Vayra?” The question was intended to be asked as a joke, but Zach’s voice actually shook with fear as he asked it.

“No vampire would,” Olivir replied, his tone deadly serious. “Do you know why?”

“No. Please tell me.”

“Because,” Olivir began, “Normal level-1 humans live around eighty years on average, and even high-level adventurers can maybe push one-fifty if they take great care of themselves. But even if you managed to live to be five-hundred, Zach, I would still look only a month or two older than I do right now. So unlike Queen Vayra, it doesn’t matter to me if you are powerful: not even if you were the strongest being in the universe. You’re never going to be a threat to me, because even if you conquered the entire world, as long as I’m not on your bad side, all I’d ever have to do is wait.”

Zach was stunned at how much sense that actually made to him. In just that one explanation, Olivir had actually offered what he’d thought just a few minutes ago was unthinkable to him: a way to truly, fully trust a person after what Fylwen had done to him. Because what Olivir had said was actually true. While Zach had no idea what ambitions the vampire held or what he sought out of life, no matter what it might happen to be, his and Zach’s interests would never actually collide in a way where one prevented another, because there was nothing in this world Zach could ever do that Olivir could not simply navigate around just by virtue of waiting for Zach to get old and die.

“Okay, join my party,” Zach said, finding his courage. “I’ll show you what I can do.”

And that’s exactly what he did. Though he was not in Unleashed Phase, he realized he could still share his list of abilities doing things the old-fashioned way. Bringing forth the ability description for Boundless, he watched as Olivir remained perfectly silent and motionless as he appeared to read over the same few lines again and again as though expecting them to say something different each time.

Finally, after several more moments had come and gone, he nodded his head and looked at Zach. Then he said something that Zach had actually heard a person say to him once before, and the fact that he spoke it in almost the same way with the same inflection made him wonder if there was some kind cosmic joke being played on him.

“Zach,” he said, meeting his eyes.

“Y-yeah?”

“Are you sure you’re not related to a God or something?”

“If I am,” Zach replied, “He or she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about me.”

Both of them shared a laugh, and then they got down to business.