The Vampire’s Templar

“Anne… are you still awake?” Fleur asked, staring up at the dark ceiling. The sound of the rain outside had already stopped and soft moonlight managed to creep in through the tiny gaps in the window. However, the meager moonlight was much too weak to actually light anything up.

Silence greeted her question. Anne must have gone to sleep around. Just as Fleur was about to close her eyes again and try her best to get as much rest as she could for tomorrow’s traveling, the bed creaked and Anne turned around to face her.“I’m awake.”

“...Did I wake you?”

Anne didn’t sound very sleepy—she sounded very much awake and energetic for how late it was, in fact—but Fleur asked anyway just in case, and to satisfy her own curiosity. 

“No. You can’t sleep either?”

Fleur shook her head, the sound of her head sliding over the fabric of the pillow enough to answer Anne.

“Neither can I. What are you thinking about? Is there something you want to talk about? I’m all ears,” Anne said. In the dim light, Fleur could just barely make out Anne’s eyes that peered at her, wide, bright, gentle, and caring.

Anne cared about her and was always there for her when she had troubles or became stressed out, and now it seems that she was going to have to bother Anne again. Fleur drew in a deep breath and let it all escape through pursed lips with a long hiss. “I…can’t believe that this is happening.”

“What is happening?” Anne asked, always the attentive, active listener. 

“The undeads. I can’t believe we’re on the run from our own people because of the undeads’ meddling, and we can’t do anything about it,” Fleur said. Her voice got a little loud. “We’ve tried so hard to get people onto our side and what do they do in response to our sincerity? Pretend to join us only to sell us out!”

And it only got louder from there as Fleur worked herself up, although the volume never got much louder than a stage whisper.

“Is it wrong to want to hide all these undead away when the first thing they do when they see something living is to try and leave it?” she asked. “Yet, this is all happening to us when we just want a peaceful life?”

Anne’s eyes moved. Fleur thought she saw it shift to the side, but Anne’s eyes quickly shifted back. “... most of us want a peaceful life at least.”

“Most?”

“No, nothing. You were saying?” Anne asked. “I agree with most everything you said.”

Fleur bristled. She turned away and flopped onto her back, staring up at the ceiling again. It looked a tiny bit brighter than before—outside, the last of the clouds had cleared and the moon was at her peak.

When she spoke again, she let her voice drop down low as something stuck in her throat. It was like someone gathered all of her frustration into a small bag and forced her to swallow it without water. “I… can’t believe that the undead are finally going to rise up and break from their cages. Sometimes, I don’t know if this was all real or if I’m just joking, Anne.” She balled her hands into fists. “I’m scared… I’m scared but I don’t want to be scared. How can I stop being scared?”

She was squeezing so hard that her nails sank into her palm, leaving behind deep indentations. She wanted to be comforted. She didn’t want to be comforted.

Fleur had never felt so confused before, and she didn’t even know why she was so confused.

Under the covers that they shared, Anne scooted closer and hugged her, sharing her warmth. The gentle warmth felt so calming, yet when Fleur squeezed her eyes shut and let go of everything to sink into Anne’s embrace, she found that she could not relax her tensed muscles. 

She was a statue, petrified.

“Fleur, it’s okay. You don’t have to be scared. There’s always another way out; aren’t we taking one right now?” she asked. “It doesn’t have to end like this, especially if we continue on like we are doing.”

“... Anne. I’m scared.”

“I know,” Anne said. She reached behind Fleur and patted the back of her head a few times with gentle, yet firm, taps, before beginning to smooth out Fleur’s hair.

Fleur bit her lips. “But I don’t want to be scared. Don’t you think that it’s cowardly to be scared when we’re running away from the battlefield? Even if it’s cowardly, how can I not be scared? The enemy that we’re up against this time is too much, if the undead really are breaking out!”

“Fleur, Fleur! It’s going to be okay!” Anne hugged her tighter but Fleur shrank away.

“How can it be okay?” Fleur demanded. There was no way that Anne forgot how terrifying the undead at Amaranthine Point could be, since they were both there in that battle. Until Camilla arrived to help, a few jack-class undead was enough to take on over twice their number in templars. 

No one knew for sure how many jack-class undeads there were in that dark fortress, only estimates. No one can know for sure that they’ll be able to stop so many. Fleur shook her head. “Do you really think those flimsy fortresses they built around the Point can stop when the undead breach the Point’s walls?”

Anne sighed. “No. I know that as well as you that we can’t.”

“So what’s between Amaranthine Point and the rest of our lands that we live in? If a tide of undead spreads across the lane, escorted out of the point by greater undead, there will be nothing we can do!”

“So if there’s nothing we can do, why are you so worried about this?” Anne snapped, finally losing her temper after getting tired of how stubborn Fleur was being. “What can you do that’s making you so concerned about what’s going weeks and months away from us? Can you grow wings and fly back? Even if you can, what use would you be there when there are already hundreds ready to fight?”

Anne shoved Fleur away, holding her shoulders at arms length and stared into Fleur’s eyes.

She held nothing back this time. Each of her words struck Fleur where they hurt, especially since Anne was right. Compared to the grand scale that this conflict took place, she really was weak and her strength barely moved the scales in favor of one side or another, no matter how much she didn’t want to accept it.

As soon as she accepted that she was weak and no longer blamed herself for something that wasn’t under her control, it was like a huge burden was lifted off her shoulders. The burden was like a canopy that hung over her head all the time, and for the first time that night, Fleur felt that there was a tiny ray of light shining through from above her. 

As long as she thought a little, her weakness was not absolute.

“So… what can I do?” she asked, feeling a little slow and dull. 

Seeing that she was finally opening up, Anne relaxed and no longer pushed Fleur away. “Simple, really. If we can’t do anything, we have to find someone who can, and aren’t we already doing that? Our mission this time is to escape into vampire lands, and to notify Camilla of what’s happened. Camilla can take care of the rest.”

Camilla. That’s right; there was Camilla. Camilla would almost certainly have a solution for the problem, considering how ingenious she was. Somehow, she had guessed that there would be traitors in the Church and was more farsighted than any of them, leaving for vampire lands so early.

Camilla was the answer. But there was one more problem.

Fleur hesitated as grief sent tears burning her eyes again; darkness always made her cry more than usual. “How will I tell him what happened to Arvel…?”

This time, Anne had no answer.

With a self-imposed weight of responsibility off her shoulders, Fleur’s eyes began to droop and she closed her eyes and fell into a shallow sleep that ended as soon as sounds came from downstairs.

Groaning at her headache, she and Anne climbed out of bed and headed downstairs after calling Justin. They converged at a meal table where their hosts provided them with a hearty breakfast that should keep them sated through the afternoon.

The meal had been surprisingly pleasant for something cooked from stored food so late into the cold season. After a bit of small talk and buying some supplies, Fleur and the others finally departed from the house before the sun even came up.

In the end, they never told their old hosts the truth when they had been nothing but kind.

Fleur sighed, some of the frustration for the previous night coming back. “We really can’t tell them the truth?” she asked.

Justin shook his head. “It’s too risky.”

“What’s the risk?” Fleur asked. “Were you even listening? The Church is busy with the undead, and even if they report us to someone, they still have to find us after we’re long gone!”

The frustration welled up stronger than ever. Here was her chance to make a difference, even if it was only for two people. Without waiting for a reply from Justin, she turned and headed back from where they came from, running toward the house. “You can go on ahead if you’re worried. I’ll be back soon.”

“Hey, wait!” Justin called, but Fleur didn’t even look back.

“I’ll go after her,” Anne said, and took off, ignoring Justin’s words.

Their swift departure left Justin standing alone in the middle of the soft dirt path, a little stunned from how fast everything happened. He didn’t keep going and nor did he follow Fleur and Anne back to their old hosts’ house. He just stood there and waited.

 With one arm unavailable for balance, Fleur almost tripped after her boots got caught in the mud a few times. However, she managed to catch herself each time and keep a good pace, even managing to get two-thirds the way before Anne caught up.

“What are you doing here? You didn’t have to come,” Fleur said.

“I’m coming because I want to. Also because I’m worried.”

Fleur hid a smile. “I’ll be fine; just you watch. They’re not bad people.” 

They finally came close enough to make out the expressions of the old people, and the two both looked surprised that they were running back.

“What’s wrong?” Litz asked. “Leave something behind?”

All that running left Fleur a bit out of breath and she had to catch her breath. As she panted and tried to get enough air, Anne spoke in her place.

“The truth is we’ve been lying to you,” she said. She got straight to the point, and both the old hosts’ eyes widened in surprise. From that reaction, it was clear that they had not suggested a thing and that just made Fleur more guilty for deceiving them.

Deceiving wasn’t something she enjoyed.

“We’re not siblings, nor are we refugees from the north,” Anne said. “You might’ve heard of us. We’re rogue clergy on the run from the Church because of a misunderstanding…”

They saw recognition flash across the old peoples’ faces and Anne couldn’t help but be on her guard. Even if she did not want to admit it, Fleur did too. However, despite their new misgivings, Anne and Fleur took turns telling their old hosts what they had experienced as well as their guesses for the future.

When all that was done, Fleur stepped forward, biting her lips. “Everything we just said is true,” she said. “It’s going to be getting dangerous here soon too. It’ll be best if you head south as well.”

After telling them such a story, Fleur didn’t know what to expect from the pair after she made the suggestion. Perhaps they won’t believe her and will shortly after chase her away for lying. Or maybe they’ll nod and start packing.

However, she did not expect Litz to flash her a warm smile and to step forward to pat her head like a mother would a young daughter.

“Thank you for trusting us enough to tell us this,” she said.

Fleur was stunned by the reply, but only for a second. She quickly recovered and shook her head. “No, that’s not the point. It’s really dangerous—”

“I know, I know. However, in the end, it’s just your guess, is it not?” 

Fleur could not refute. “It is, but—”

Litz held up her hand. “Thank you for the warning, but even if it turns out that we’re wrong and you’re right, it doesn’t matter,” she said. “We’re not going to leave this place, since if we’re gone, then where will the people that this house is waiting for come back to?”

Her words brought Fleur back to the room she had stayed in with Anne that night. That neatly organized, yet strangely empty room. She had a feeling that whoever used to occupy that room was gone forever, yet Litz and the old man were saying that they were waiting for that person…

“You won’t regret it?” Fleur asked.

Litz shook her head. “We won’t. Ah, that reminds me… please wait here.”

Before Fleur could ask anything, Litz turned and disappeared into the house. By now, all of Anne and Fleur’s caution toward her was gone. Even if someone told her that there were members of the Church waiting inside for the signal to capture them, Fleur would not believe it.

They stuck tight and waited as Litz asked, and a few minutes later, Litz came back out holding a large block of something wrapped in waxed paper. “Hold out your hands,” she said, and pressed the bundle into Anne’s hands. 

From the smell of it, it was preserved meat, and by the weight of it, there was a lot of it. Anne and Fleur looked at her in awe, stunned by the sudden gift. “Why?”

Litz laughed. “Well, from the looks of it, it seems I won't be needing it for much longer. Our old teeth can’t eat something so tough anyway.”

“... You believe us.”

“Does it matter? Run along, you two little lasses. Don’t let us keep you waiting.”

Tears welled up in Fleur’s eyes at Litz’s words. She was just about to thank her when Litz turned and headed inside, closing the door behind her. The words stuck in Fleur’s throat and it was all she could do to lower her head at the closed door.

Before the tears could trace down her cheeks, she turned and ran back toward Justin, pulling an equally tearful Anne behind her.

She would not, could not be scared. Not anymore.