An Asnean Odyssey: Bastien
Chapter Four

Four

- “Is it really possible to lose your humanity like that...? I can hardly believe my eyes...”

Bastien’s eyes shot open. He was laying in Randgris’ bed. He quickly scanned the room, but she was nowhere to be found. He could hear footsteps above him. He pulled the blankets aside and neatly piled the plush animals at the end of the bed before rising to his feet. His clothes had been changed. He climbed through the hatch to replace Randgris casually sewing at the table. It looked like she was making a sword cozy.

“What happened?” Bastien asked as he lifted his shirt to reveal his smooth stomach.

“I saved you,” Randgris responded quite satisfied with herself. “I was almost too late, too.”

“That was our guy then, yeah?”

“Yes. I already reported to Leinhardt. Our next task is to retrieve the Philosopher’s Stone. Get ready, we’ll be leaving right away.”

“I don’t really have anything to get ready with,” Bastien quickly patted himself down. “Did you replace any of the girls?”

“Yeah.”

“Were their families happy?”

“They were dead.”

“Oh,” Bastien didn’t know how to respond.

“He had an altar in the final room. His sister’s skull was in the center, surrounded by the other girls’ skulls.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For asking.”

“That’s a stupid thing to be sorry for,” Randgris replied as she rushed up the stairs and tossed her sewing equipment, then returned below. She grabbed Bastien’s sword from the corner and handed it to him. “Let’s go.”

It was raining again when they emerged from Randgris’ tower. “Do I have time to shower?”

“Yeah.” Randgris quickly responded.

Bastien rushed to the bathhouse and quickly bathed while Randgris waited outside. Once he was finished, they headed out into the city.

“I could use something to eat, too.”

“I thought you might. We’ll just pick something up from the stalls again.”

“Something different, right?” Bastien looked at Randgris. “That stuff we got last time was shit.”

"You can get something different. I for one love that ‘shit’,” Randgris glared at Bastien. The pair wandered through the city again. Randgris stopped at the same stall as before, greeted the merchant and picked out some items. Tossing him a few coins and waving goodbye, she handed Bastien a bottle of clear liquid, a packet of pink powder, and a mushy, doughy lump.

“What are these?” Bastien asked. Randgris had already chugged her beverage and was half way through devouring biscuits that were molded into comical interpretations of meat.

“Water, vitamins, bon bon,” Randgris replied as she wiped her mouth. “Put the powder in the water, shake it up, then drink it.”

Bastien opened up the packet of powder and smelled it before dumping it into the water. It smelled like wet grass. He shook up the bottle and took a sip. It was surprisingly sweet. He squeezed the bonbon before biting into it. It was rubbery and tasted much sweeter than the vitamins. “I see you went to the opposite side of the flavor spectrum.”

“If you don’t like one thing, try another,” Randgris replied with a shrug.

“Well, I really like these.”

“Perhaps I’ll bake you something once we get back,” Randgris allowed a slight smile to peak at the corner of her mouth.

“You don’t seem like the type of person who bakes,” Bastien chuckled briefly as the two made their way to the exit.

“Why do you say that?”

“You just...don’t...”

“There has to be a reason.”

“You don’t have an oven,” Bastien pointed out. “And the eggs you made were under cooked.”

“I use the kitchen in the castle when I bake,” Randgris shoved Bastien gently. “Cooking and baking are completely different.”

“No, they aren’t!” Bastien responded as the two left the city.

The outside world was desolate. Gray clouds stretched eternally along the horizon. The pair started to loop around the city, as they had left through the main gates. Shortly after their departure, they came across a mob of people crowded around a barn. They were carrying various farming implements and trying to bash the door down.

“Hold!” Randgris shouted as they approached. She had her hand on her sword. “What’s going on here?”

“Vile filth infiltrated our poor village, killing our livestock,” one of the disgruntled peasants shouted.

“It barricaded itself in this old barn!” another one shouted. “We’re going to kill it!”

Randgris thought for a moment before replying. “As a member of the Royal Guards, I shall exterminate this vermin on your behalf. All I ask is that you return to your homes.”

“Right, like we’re going to leave after everything we’ve put into replaceing this mongrel!”

“Then wait outside, I really don’t care,” Randgris pushed her way through the crowd with Bastien close behind. “I don’t want you getting in my way.”

“Fine, but we want its head when you’ve finished!”

Randgris didn’t respond. She drew her sword and inserted it above her head into the space between the doors, then slammed it down into the ground. A large splitting noise echoed briefly as the doors swung open. Randgris hurriedly pulled Bastien inside, then closed and barricaded the doors again.

“They were easily persuaded,” Bastien commented. “Why are we barricading the door again?”

“They didn’t have a choice,” Randgris cautiously searched the empty barn. There were a few hay bales placed randomly and the floor was covered in straw. “And we barricaded the door to keep them out, and whatever we’re looking for in.”

Bastien began to wander aimlessly around the building as well. Randgris moved a couple of hay bales then sheathed her sword. Bastien stopped and looked at her. “So... there’s nothing here?”

“Looks that way,” Randgris kicked at some of the straw on the floor. “It doesn’t look like it broke through the wall, and there aren’t any windows.”

“Maybe there’s another room?”

“In a barn?”

“Yeah, like a cellar or something,” Bastien walked to the back of the room and started to sift through the straw. He quickly found a removable panel in the floor. “Like this.”

“I’m annoyed that you found that,” Randgris remarked as she approached the panel. She once again drew her sword and pried open the board, leaving a small hole in the floor. There was a wooden stepladder that descended into the darkness. Bastien entered first, with Randgris on his heels. When they had reached the bottom, they found themselves in an almost pitch-black room that was tall enough for them to stand upright. There was a faint light coming from a doorway about fifteen feet in front of them. They carefully approached the doorway and pushed it open. Inside there was a woman sitting on a stool beside a stone altar. On each side of the altar stood iron candelabras which provided dim light to the room. She had milky white skin paired with ivory hair that spilled onto the floor. There was a needle stuck into her arm with a long tube that extended over the altar. Laying on the stone slab was a man with scraggy ashen hair that hung loosely over his closed eyes. His bare chest was exposed, revealing a few large fissures that had once bled profusely, staining his torn gray pants. The tube hung a few inches above his face and slowly dripped blood into his dry, cracked mouth. The man coughed as Bastien and Randgris approached, covering his chest in tiny droplets of blood. The woman slowly turned her head to look at the duo.

“Is this it?” She asked. “Are you going to kill him?”

Randgris silently observed for a moment before she decided to speak. “Is this the...‘Vile filth’?”

“He’s not filth,” the woman’s tone was agitated, but she didn’t have the energy to shout. “He’s my lover.”

“What’s his name?”

“Duke,” the woman whispered, tears welling in her eyes. “And mine’s Cecilia.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He stopped feeding,” Cecilia explained. “He wanted to live a normal life with me, but my father found out and chased him here.”

“Is he...a vampire?” Randgris asked hesitantly.

“Yes,” The man’s eyelids opened enough for the brilliant emerald to glimmer in the murky darkness.

“It’s okay,” Duke’s voice was almost incomprehensible. “I am filth...Let me die.”

Cecilia tore the needle out of her arm and climbed onto the altar, tears streaming from her eyes. “No! I don’t want to live without you! I can’t live without you!”

She wrapped her arms around his limp, lifeless body and held him tight. Cecilia pressed her pale lips against his broken mouth and embraced him in a deep kiss before lowering her head and whispering in his ear. She inhaled sharply as Duke mustered the energy to wrap his arms around her. The two lay on the altar motionless in the almost darkness. Slowly, Cecilia began to rise, bringing Duke with her. As she turned, Duke’s emerald eyes cut through the darkness to meet Bastien’s. A river of crimson depression carved its way down his face. His teeth were deeply embedded in Cecilia’s skin, who was dangling from his arms with blood pouring forth from her neck. Bastien wanted to look away, but couldn’t bring himself to avert his gaze. Randgris drew her blade and approached Duke, who rose from the altar, Cecilia still in his arms. He turned around and placed her gently where he had lain, gave her one final kiss, then turned to face Randgris. The wounds in his gut had healed over and his hair was now a deep black. He wiped the sadness and death from his face before leaning casually on the altar with his arms crossed.

“You never answered the lady,” Duke announced. “Are you going to kill me?”

“You truly are filth!” Randgris shouted. “How could you just use that poor girl like that?! She loved you!”

“And I her!” Duke appeared suddenly in front of Randgris, his hand at her throat. “I would have given anything, done anything, to be with her!”

“Right, that’s why you killed her,” Randgris scoffed as she knocked his hand away from her. “You deserve death.”

“You’re right,” Duke’s voice shuddered as he turned around to face Cecilia’s corpse. “I deserve to be there, not her...”

“Then make this easy for us,” Randgris raised her sword, then gripped it with two hands and brought it down upon his head. Duke gripped the blade tightly with his right hand. His arm was soaked with blood.

“How do you beg forgiveness from the dead?”

“You die.”

“And if that isn’t an option?”

“Then you carry that burden for the rest of your miserable existence.”

“Thank you,” Duke turned around to face Randgris. His face was covered with blood again and she couldn’t tell, but it looked like he was crying. “We can fight if you wish, but I’ve stopped feeding. I’m going to wither and die eventually.”

“Then why did you kill her?” Bastien interrupted. Duke paused for a moment, releasing his grip on Randgris’ sword. He turned to face Bastien, the candlelight refracting off the sadness in his eyes.

“She begged me...”

“Why?!”

“She loved me...and I her...” Duke returned to the altar and blew out the candles. “And I would do anything for her...”

Randgris fumbled to replace the green stone within her pouch and strike it to light the candles. When the room was once again dimly lit, Duke had disappeared along with Cecilia’s body. Randgris stood motionless for a moment.

“That was weird,” Bastien broke the silence.

“I hate that guy,” Randgris replied with clenched fists. She put her sword away and turned towards the exit, grabbing Bastien’s hand on the way.

“What are we supposed to tell the people outside?”

“He was a vampire. He turned to dust.”

“Should we try to go after him?”

“It’s not worth the effort,” Randgris replied through her teeth. “As much as I’d love to beat him to a bloody mess, we’ve got more important things to do.”

“The stone, yeah...” Bastien had forgotten about it completely. “Is it really that important? I mean, it could just be a shiny rock, right?”

“The fact that we don’t know what it is is what makes it so important,” Randgris replied as they reached the entrance to the barn. As she pushed the door open the people gathered outside turned to look at her.

“Did you kill him?”

“Yes. You won’t have a trophy though,” Randgris walked past them without stopping. “He was a vampire. He’s nothing but a pile of dust now.”

“And what of the girl?” one of the people cried out.

“What girl?”

“There was a girl with that monster!”

“He killed her,” Randgris replied bluntly. The man stood motionless before collapsing to his knees. Bastien and Randgris continued on their way without looking back. As the two journeyed back to the Philosopher’s Lair, something stuck out in Bastien’s mind.

“If dragons don’t exist, why are they on everything in Asnea,” Bastien inquired.

“Dragon’s used to exist, but they were slain.”

“By who?”

“The past kings made bargains with the dragons for power,” Randgris explained. “Then they used that power to kill the dragons.”

“That seems kind of...shitty,” Bastien remarked. “Did they do anything to provoke them?”

“If you see a wolf, do you wait for it to attack?”

“I feel like that’s a bad analogy. Wolves can’t reason, they only act on instinct.”

“And who’s to say a dragon can?”

“If you made bargains with them, don’t you think they can reason?” Bastien argued. They were nearing the cave. The stench that plagued the area had only strengthened since their last visit.

“And if they can reason, they can betray,” Randgris retorted. “For all we know, they were manipulating us. We struck preemptively.”

Bastien wasn’t satisfied with her answer, but he didn’t press further. As they came to the mouth of the cave, the pair noticed that there was a large trail of blood leading outside that stopped at the entrance.

“Looks like the rain washed it away,” Bastien remarked.

“Lucky bastards,” Randgris followed the blood into the cave. It led into the treasure room, ending where Plato’s severed head would have been. Surprisingly, all of the treasure was still scattered around the room.

“We don’t know what it looks like, do we?” Bastien asked as he approached the crater his body had left in the wall. Dry blood was caked into the cracks, but he didn’t remember bleeding at all.

“No. It might not even be here,” Randgris sighed.

“I could help you look,” Duke was standing in the doorway. He had changed his clothing and was now wearing black cotton pants and a plain white button up shirt with a lonely silver necklace dangling from his throat. “If you’ll have me, that is.”

Randgris immediately spun around, sword drawn, and charged at Duke. She swung wildly as soon as she was within range, but Duke was already in a different spot by the time she would have hit him. This continued for a few minutes until finally, Bastien, the silent observer, was drawn into the conflict. Duke wrapped his arm around his throat and positioned Bastien’s body in front of his as a shield. Randgris was already mid-swing by the time she realized what had happened, and cleaved through both Bastien and Duke’s shoulder. She froze, trying to make sense of the situation. Her eyes darted to Bastien’s face, who was looking down at his shoulder in terror, then to Duke’s, which was utterly emotionless. She yanked the blade out of their shoulders, causing a small wave of blood to pour forth from Bastien’s wound every second. Duke, on the other hand, had barely bled at all and appeared as though his injury had already healed, with only the tear in his shirt to give away that he had been hurt.

“You bastard!” Randgris cried out over the clang of her bloodied sword falling to the ground. She embraced Bastien, squeezing his body as close as her armor would permit.

“Looks like you clipped an artery. He’d make a good meal,” Duke’s voice was strained. His right arm was limp and he was holding onto his shoulder as he slouched down against the wall. “Time to work your magic.”

“Dammit! Don’t speak!” Randgris had tears in her eyes. Bastien was already beginning to lose color and his breathing was starting to quicken. “You’re not allowed to die!”

Randgris pushed her lips against Bastien’s and held the back of his head with her hand. She closed her eyes, causing the tears that had gathered to fall onto Bastien’s face. It felt like the pain in his shoulder was being pulled through his throat and out of his mouth. A familiar warm feeling filled his body and he felt invigorated. She kept her lips locked with his for a moment before pulling away.

“You really aren’t a vampire, are you?” Duke asked, although it was more of a statement.

“You really do have a death wish, don’t you?”

“You know it,” Duke weakly responded as he struggled to his feet. “I’m sorry, boy, but I needed to make a point.”

“My name is Bastien.”

“Ah, I suppose we haven’t properly been introduced!” Duke made an awkward bow, his arm still dangling beside him. “Duke, at your service. I already know who you are, lady Valkyrie Randgris.”

“How?” Bastien asked.

“Everyone knows about the Divine King’s Angel of Death.”

“Is that why you followed us?” Randgris inquired.

“It’s not the only reason, but yes.”

“Why? What’s the other reason?”

Duke smirked. “I’m dead, remember? Whatever semblance of a life I may have had is gone.”

“What’s keeping me from killing you?”

“You can’t touch me, how are you going to kill me?”

“You look pretty weak now, I’m sure I could finish you off.”

“If you attack me again, I’ll simply flee,” Duke explained calmly. “A man’s got to know when to cut his losses, y’know?”

“So what? You think you can just come with us?”

“That was my intention, yes. I have no purpose and I cannot die.”

“You’re not welcome here,” Randgris gritted her teeth. “Leave immediately.”

“I think we should let him come with us,” Bastien interjected. “He hasn’t attacked us even once.”

“What does it matter? He’s a monster.”

“He’s still human.”

“If you can call that human,” Randgris scoffed.

“I do,” Bastien sternly replied.

“Fine,” Randgris conceded as she cleaned her blade and put it away. “I’m going to search the other chamber. Get me when you’re finished.”

As soon as Randgris had left the room, Duke collapsed against the wall again sending coins and jewelry scattering around him. Bastien got up slowly and walked towards him.

“I don’t get it,” Bastien extended a hand to help him up. “Why are you so weak?”

“I stopped feeding, remember?”

“Yeah, so?”

“It takes a lot of energy to regenerate,” Duke brushed away Bastien’s hand and remained propped against the wall. “Normally you feed afterwards.”

“You can’t drink animal blood or something?”

“No, it’s like poison. I can drink a little bit at a time, but anything more and I’ll become sick.”

“If you don’t feed, will you die?”

“It’s not that easy,” Duke sighed. “In my grief, I may have exaggerated. I’ll become paralyzed and eventually go into a coma. I won’t die.”

Bastien tilted his head to reveal his neck. “Use me.”

“I don’t want to kill any more.”

“So don’t. Take what you need. I’ll keep you healthy.”

“Lady Valk won’t be very pleased.”

“She doesn’t need to know.”

“She’ll know when you can barely walk.”

“I’ll tell her it’s from when she attacked me.”

“I hope you don’t word it quite like that,” Duke laughed gently. “I’ve seen some shit, boy, and that woman genuinely scares me.”

“Will you accept my offer?” Bastien leaned closer to Duke, his neck still exposed. He could feel Duke’s chilled breath creeping down his back.

“I will,” Duke whispered as he prepared to sink his teeth into Bastien’s neck. “Thank you.”

Bastien felt two sharp pricks in his neck. He could feel his blood pumping out of his body as Duke gripped him tighter and tighter. All of the warmth he had previously experienced was being sucked out of him. Just when he thought he was going to pass out, Duke slowly pulled away, licking his lips.

“Are you okay?” Duke asked as he stood up, lifting Bastien with him.

“I’ll...be fine...” Bastien’s color had mostly left him and he seemed disoriented.

“The real reason I came here is you, Bastien. I’ve seen a lot of people in my lifetime, and you can always tell their character through their eyes. I knew you were something special the moment I saw you,” Duke bent down and picked up a dull, jagged silver stone out of the mess. “And I think she sees it too.”