CHAPTER 06: STRANGER'S OF SALT AND SMOKE
Once I'd put some distance between myself and the beach, I stayed up on the cliffs overlooking it. I knew following the shoreline was my best chance of finding civilization, but I wasn't about to walk down there after what happened to the ship. The drop was about fifty feet, sheer in most places with rocky slopes in others, and below it stretched a long sweep of open beach and dunes tufted with thin, wind-tangled grass.
Bleached driftwood littered the sand in every direction, everything from splintered branches to whole tree trunks stripped bare by sun and salt. It made me wonder if some storm or disaster had torn through here years ago and thrown half a forest into the sea.
As curious as it was, I forced myself to keep my attention on the present. The cliffs were a broken edge between grassland and rock, scattered with hardy shrubs and thorny little bushes that grabbed at my cloak as I walked. It wasn't much, but it was enough cover for something to hide in.
And after the monsters who'd eaten the pirate crew, I didn't doubt this stretch of coastline had its own ecosystem. One that probably included more horrors than whatever had dragged the ship down. I wasn't about to let my guard down.
Now that I was free and on my way home, other concerns plagued my mind. The biggest was simple: why bother kidnapping me at all? What was there to gain? From what I'd gathered, they knew almost nothing about me. If it were another vampire and they thought that I was a young teen, they must have thought that I'd been turned at that age. They obviously didn't understand my nature, or they'd know I was an adult now.
If they weren't after my bloodline, then maybe they wanted something from Father. But that was even stranger. I called him Father, and he behaved the part, but he didn't feel things the way others did. You couldn't leverage him with sentiment; he wouldn't bargain for me the way they might've imagined.
Maybe they hoped I'd reveal some secret way into his castle. That was laughable. Without compatible magic, any directions I gave them would be useless, and even if they somehow succeeded, the forest itself would rise up and tear them apart long before they reached him.
I chased possibilities in circles for hours, picking them apart, dismissing them, and starting again. But the truth was simple: I didn't have enough pieces yet to understand the game being played.
As the sun began to reach the horizon, I knew I needed to find a place to sleep. There weren't many options for shelter. In the end, I had to settle for a somewhat secluded patch of tall grass that would hide me from casual view. It wouldn't protect me from the weather, but the air was mild enough.
I cast a small anti-vermin charm before lying down, hoping the lack of anything small and edible would keep anything larger from wandering close. I pulled up my hood, wrapped my cloak around myself, and tried to make myself as comfortable as possible. Surprisingly, the fabric offered more comfort than I'd expected.
As the sun slipped away and darkness crept in, my thoughts drifted toward the disjointed dreams that had followed me since this ordeal began, but I was under in moments.
I awoke with a start in the early hours of the morning. The sudden break from my dream made every detail sharper. I'd been standing in a house I somehow knew, watching family I didn't recognize walk past while I waited for my cousin. But she never came. No matter how long I stared down that hallway, she was gone. The dream left a cold knot in my chest, an ache of loss that clung even as I blinked awake. It was so vivid that for a moment I almost forgot something else had woken me.
Trying to shake it off, I lifted a hand and pushed back my hood. It was still dark, and the air was thick with a musky scent I didn't recognize, mingled with the ocean's salt. When my eyes adjusted, I saw shapes lying all around me. Fur. Long limbs. Antlers. It took a moment for my mind to catch up.
They were elk, or at least something close to elk, and there were nearly a dozen of them. They were resting peacefully in a loose ring around my patch of grass. They didn't seem bothered by me at all. One lifted its head and met my gaze, its breath misting faintly in the early cold. Very carefully, I stood and looked for a clear path out.
As I walked, the reason for this sudden improvement became obvious. It had happened right after I fed on the pirate. Blood fueled everything: my strength, my magic, and most notably, my healing. I could already feel my reserves dwindling again, my body burning through them as it worked whatever toxin remained out of my system. For most vampires, this poison might have lasted weeks or months, locking them in torpor until someone found them or they starved. But I could awaken in the day…and I could feed. That made all the difference.
Still, a steady supply of blood didn't seem likely out here. That gave me a moment's hesitation about leaving her on the beach. We could have scavenged enough to keep her alive. It wouldn't have been difficult. And she was easy to frustrate—that part had been fun. But eventually, I would need to sleep, and she would have all the opportunity in the world to slit my throat the moment I closed my eyes.
No. I'd made the correct decision. I brushed the thoughts away and focused on moving forward.
My day passed much like the last, with one small difference. I stopped when I found a patch of wild strawberries. I'd never eaten a strawberry before, but I recognized them from a book on herbs and alchemy. I'd been feeling actual physical hunger, an irritating reminder that my body was still fighting to recover, and this was the first chance I'd had to do anything about it.
The first bite nearly made my mouth explode. It was so sweet and so sharply tart that my instinct was to spit it out, but I forced myself to keep chewing. And as the juice flooded my mouth, the flavor only grew richer, changing my understanding of human food in an instant. How had I gone this long without this? I ate several more, each as strange and wonderful as the last, and gathered a small handful to take with me. I lamented that I had no way to carry more.
The farther I walked, the more the land shifted into open grassland. The cliff shelf slowly tapered down until it was more of a high hill overlooking the ocean. By evening, I'd spotted a few grazing animals but no monsters, and the occasional lone tree began to break up the endless grass. I pushed on as long as I dared, until the sun was just clinging to the horizon, when I finally found a reward for the effort: a sizable oak with thick, sprawling branches.
In the far distance, I thought I saw the faint glow of what might have been a village, but it was too distant to be certain. I didn't dwell on it. I climbed the oak instead, leaving that worry for the morning. About twelve feet up, I found a broad limb I trusted to hold me. I tested it, made sure I wouldn't roll off in my sleep, cast my anti-vermin charm, and curled up against the trunk. Nightfall touched me just as I drifted off, and feeling it settle over me put a quiet smile on my face as sleep finally claimed me.
The birdsong of my dreams, where I lay in the grass next to a lake, bled into the birdsong around me as I woke. I was warm and comfortable and had no real desire to move. Then I heard, and almost felt, a heavy rumbling purr. I pushed my hood back and found two pumas curled up beside me, one using me as a pillow.
The branches overhead were crowded with birds and bats. Some were sleeping, some happily chirping, and I forced myself to stay perfectly still while I tried to make sense of it. I was certain I'd checked this tree before settling down, and there had definitely not been any pumas. My charm had worked, too; nothing here counted as vermin. So what was going on?
Slowly, carefully, I eased myself free from beneath the oversized cat and climbed down to the ground. I checked them again from below, mostly to be sure I wasn't about to be stalked, and then I set off toward where I thought the village might be. I kept a little more speed to my step than usual, and glanced back more than once, just to be sure nothing had decided to follow.
As the sun climbed higher, a faint scent of smoke drifted across the grassland. Thin, wispy trails rose into the sky in the distance in as sure a sign of people as I was likely to get. I kept alert, but I couldn't deny a flicker of excitement at the thought of seeing other humans again. It was odd. I'd spent most of my life alone except for Father, a few revenants, and the infrequent visits from coven members. I'd never felt the need for human company. Maybe I was just hungry, I told myself.
The scent grew stronger as I approached, and soon I spotted small ships slipping out into the water. A little farther on, I crested a hill and finally saw the village spread out below. From here, I could take in the entire central cluster of buildings and most of the farmland surrounding it. The fields were empty of houses, the farmers clearly living inside the walls. The place was bigger than I'd expected, too. If I were to guess, I'd assume nearly a thousand people called the place home.
The coastline nearest the settlement had its own walled harbor, bustling with fishing vessels. The town proper was neat, laid out in districts. Everything radiated from a church at the center. Near it stood a keep and a manor house. The cottages clustered close to those, while a small marketplace sat near the north gate, positioned for the docks. I was still a couple of miles off, but I could already hear the rhythmic clang of a blacksmith's hammer and smell fish, livestock, and salt on the wind. Choosing the best path down, I started toward the village.
I was surprised by how easily I reached the gates. The guards didn't seem to register me at all until I was nearly on top of them. Their only reaction was a quick glance at my state of undress, a raised brow, and some muttered comments, but they didn't stop me from entering. That alone said a great deal about this place.
The main road was paved in well-maintained cobblestone, crowded with people preparing for some kind of morning labor. The side streets branching off into the market were gravel, but just as clean. The whole settlement had the look of prosperity, feeling tidy, organized, and cared for. And oddly, I didn't see many weapons on anyone beyond normal belt knives. That made me wonder if it was a local law, or if the town was simply peaceful enough that no one felt the need to carry steel openly.
As I wove through the bustle, vendors called out in sing-song rhythm, urging me to look at this or that trinket, produce, or bundle of fabrics. No one scolded me, so I assumed I wasn't breaking any rules by wandering through armed. The real problem was money—I didn't have any. My sword and dagger were worth far more than I needed, but the thought of parting with either made me uneasy.
I paused at a food stall, staring at a tray of pastries steaming in the cool air. The smell alone was enough to tempt me, dreadfully rich, warm, and sweet. For a moment, the idea of selling my dagger didn't seem quite as reckless. Then I sighed and turned away.
That was when a hand closed around my arm.
"Dearie, what are you doing out here dressed like that? You're going to get a chill in this morning air!"
I looked over to find an older woman, a little bent with age but with a strong face that would tell anyone she was far from done with life. "Pardon me?" I asked.
She just shook her head, tsking at me, "You'd better get some proper clothes on. People might get the wrong idea."
"These are all the clothes I have until I get home," I told her politely, ready to move on, but she didn't let go.
"You're not from around here, are you?"
I shook my head, "No, I am not. I am from far to the west. I am traveling home."
That raised her eyebrows. "On your own?" At my nod, she waved me toward the front of her shop, which I now saw was a bakery and tea shop. "Come inside for a few minutes. I will get you something to eat. You look half-starved."
Without another word, she turned and shifted her grip, sliding her hand down to catch mine. The contact startled me more than being pulled through the crowd. She tugged me along with an easy confidence, calling over her shoulder to one of the younger workers—her apprentices, I assumed—to watch the stall.
Inside, warmth and the smell of fresh bread hit me all at once. The room was packed with small tables, each crowded with people eating pastries and loaves straight off the trays. A single narrow lane led toward a counter where larger orders were being collected, and everyone moved around each other with practiced familiarity.
The woman guided me through the maze of chairs, then stopped at a table near a back door. She pulled a chair out with one hand and nudged me toward it with the other, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
"Sit here, dearie. Marve! Bring our guest a breakfast strudel and some tea!"
"Mistress, I don't have any coin," I said quickly. I understood enough about human customs to know payment mattered, but she brushed my concern away with a flick of her hand.
"I can see you're having a hard time of it. This one's on us. I'm not about to let a young woman down on her luck go hungry."
I didn't fully understand the gesture, but I dipped my head. "Thank you. I will not forget the kindness."
She gave me a warm, tired smile. "I'll be back in a moment. If you need anything, just ask one of my apprentices to fetch Natia."
I bowed slightly from my seat. "I'm sorry, Mistress Natia. I am Mirela."
She laughed as she turned away, vanishing into the back of her shop. I wasn't left waiting long. Someone slipped a small plate and a steaming mug in front of me before hurrying off, and I gave them a grateful smile before inspecting the food. I wasn't sure what it was, but the smell alone made my mouth water. I picked up the pastry and took a careful bite.
The next few bites were not careful.
I'd never eaten much human food, and I was quickly realizing that this had been a terrible mistake. How had I missed something this good? I'd been the only one in Father's castle who ate human food for ages, but this… this was something else entirely. Father had been human once. Surely he'd enjoyed things like this. Why had he never told me?
The thought felt strange, wrong, and I paused mid-bite only to notice several people watching. It made me realize I'd been hunched over my food like some feral creature. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I straightened and took a small, delicate nibble.
I was immediately met with a burst of laughter and looked up to see Natia watching me from a pass-through to the kitchen. I felt a sudden heat and tightness in my face and put down the pastry to try the tea. A cautious sip left me wide-eyed. The flavor was sharp and bold, with a bitter citrus edge softened by honey. It took a moment to decide whether I liked it, but… yes. Very pleasant.
I finished the meal in relative silence, savoring every bite, until Natia returned and settled across from me with her own cup of tea. I managed my best attempt at a smile, stiff and unpracticed though it felt. It must have looked acceptable, because her face lit up.
"I take it everything was to your liking?" she asked.
I nodded vigorously, "I've never had anything like it. It was wonderful."
"Really?" she said, brows lifting, but she barely paused before continuing, "Well, why don't you tell me how you ended up here with no supplies? It's not every day you see someone in a nightshirt carrying a sword."
I followed her gaze downward and… yes. I couldn't argue with that.
"I was poisoned and kidnapped at the Adventurers' Guild in Angelshade," I said. "By pirates. When I woke, I was locked in a cage, and this shirt was all they'd left me to wear. They were taking me east, to someone who'd paid them for the kidnapping. Their ship was attacked by sea monsters on the way. Only one crew member and I survived. When I escaped my confinement, I recovered my weapons, cloak, and boots, but they'd thrown away the rest of my clothing. After we made landfall, I headed west to get home."
"You said there was another survivor?" she asked.
I nodded. "Yes. She died on the beach."
The memory flashed sharp and cold, her drained body lying in the sand. A small pang tightened my chest before I pushed it aside. Natia must have seen something on my face, because she leaned forward, her voice softening in a way that suggested she'd come to the wrong conclusion.
Reaching over the table, she rested her hand on mine, "These things happen. You just need to focus on moving forward."
I nodded, "Yes. She was one of my captors. I am unsure why I felt anything at seeing her die. But now, I must focus on returning home."
"That's right. I can't offer much in that regard, but I do have some old clothes my daughter left behind when she married. She was about your size. They should fit. Why don't you come upstairs, and we'll see what we can do?"
Everything about the situation felt awkward. I'd been taught some etiquette growing up, and I practiced it when we had visitors, but I still struggled to remember how I was supposed to behave. Even so, I followed Natia upstairs. As we climbed, I noticed several enchantment inscriptions built into the walls—simple domestic ones that were running low on charge, meant to keep out vermin and regulate the house's temperature.
She led me into a bedroom where all the furniture sat beneath dust sheets. Opening a large wardrobe, she sifted through a row of dresses and began pulling out options. After a few moments, she settled on two sturdy travel dresses—knee-length, tunic-style, much like the clothing I'd seen around town, but thicker and reinforced, with more hidden pockets than I expected.
By the time she finished having me try things on, I had two travel dresses, several pairs of leggings, a proper belt with room for my weapons, and small pouches to hang from it. She even insisted on tying a red ribbon in my hair, claiming it looked wonderful with my raven hair. I wasn't sure I agreed, but she seemed pleased. As I dressed, she gathered the rest of the clothing into a simple leather rucksack.
When she handed it to me, I felt uncomfortable with the situation. It seemed like a lot to give a stranger, and I had no way to pay her back. It was the first time I'd been in such a situation, and I didn't like the idea of taking so much without doing something in return. But I'd already noticed one small thing I could help with.
"Thank you, Mistress Natia. This is more than I know how to properly repay, but I would like to try. I noticed you have several inscriptions in need of recharging. I have been trained to do so if you could show me around."
She looked a little startled at that, "You're a sorceress?"
I shook my head, "No, my class has not unlocked. I have only been trained while attempting to unlock a mage class."
"If you are able to recharge our enchantments, that is more than a fair trade for everything. We have no mages in the village, and passing adventurers are very expensive to hire."
"Then it is settled. After you, Mistress."
She guided me from room to room, and I slipped into the rhythm of the work without thinking. Channel, focus, release. Each inscription drank in the mana like a thirsty root. A few were worn to the point of fraying, and with her permission, I cleaned and reinforced them, smoothing out cracked lines and tightening loose patterns. It was a familiar, almost comforting process. This kind of maintenance had been one of my regular duties back home, and compared to the complex inscriptions of the castle, these domestic charms were hardly any effort at all.
As I worked, I found myself explaining little things out of habit—how certain patterns adapted better to insulation, how low-flow charms kept pests out without harming birds or cats. Natia asked questions, genuinely interested, and by the time we reached the shop below, I was almost comfortable.
Seeing her ovens sparked another memory from my studies. I told her how heat-retention inscriptions could stabilize an oven's temperature and help keep fuel use down, the same principle used for forges and bathhouses. She listened intently and urged me to try.
I set the first charm in place, fed mana into it, and felt the oven settle into a more even heat. Her delight was immediate and very loud. Encouraged, I moved on to the others, letting the work carry me. By the time I finished the last one, she looked as though I'd gifted her something priceless.
I spent several hours working before everything was done, and only then did I realize how completely I'd lost myself in the familiar tasks. Time had flown past without my noticing. Talking with Natia and her apprentices had been easier than I'd expected, and somewhere along the way, the hours had slipped by until suddenly I was sitting at their table for dinner, then gently herded back into the bedroom from earlier.
I hadn't planned to lose a whole day here, but somehow that was exactly what had happened. And in exchange, I'd gotten real clothes, a pack full of useful things, and a level of comfort I hadn't felt in… years, maybe. When I finally lay down to sleep, I felt warm and strangely giddy, like something I thought had withered inside me was waking up again. Being around people had felt good. It helped me practice blending in, but it was also simply… pleasant.
That was dangerous, and I knew it. Father had warned me more than once about getting attached to humans—not only because it made hunting harder, but because humans died. Their lives were so short, and I hadn't understood that until it was already too late. He'd been insistent about it because he knew my emotions weren't as muted as his own. It was one reason I stayed away from the living.
Yet, after a day with people who helped me freely and wanted nothing in return, I felt like maybe I could find a balance. I could keep a line between the ones I liked and the ones I hunted…And I knew exactly how quickly those thin threads of friendship would snap the moment anyone learned what I was.
I would be leaving in the morning anyway, which made the whole thing a moot point.
TO BE CONTINUED...