The First Tear of the Vampire

The deep, peaceful silence was the first thing Anna noticed. The second was the soft, cold nighttime air. 

Her tent's opening revealed a deep, star-dusted blue sky.

The sun had long before set. The struggle for Frola had been over for a whole day.

Slowly, she sat up. She no longer had the painful wound in her chest. 

And she wasn't by herself.

Maren, in her small human form, was curled up asleep at the foot of the bed. As Anna stirred, a figure sitting quietly in a chair in the corner of the tent looked up. It was Hela.

“You’re awake,” the dark elf said, her voice soft with a relief that was profound and genuine. A moment later, Zebril and Jarce entered the tent, their faces etched with the same tired, grateful expression.

Anna was a little embarrassed, pulling the blanket up slightly. They had been waiting. All of them. “The fight… is it over?” she asked, her voice a little hoarse.

“It is,” Jarce said, a wide, weary, but incredibly happy smile on his face.

“Thanks to you, Anna. All of it. The evacuation is almost complete. The city is secure. None of this would have been possible without your plans.”

“Gaspard has organized the able-bodied First Kin into a provisional guard,” Zebril added, “They’re working with my men to distribute the remaining supplies. There is… order. Hope.”

“Mnnaa! Anna! After this, let’s go over to eat many food! The people made stalls! Maren so excited… Let’s eat with Terran, Jarce, Zebril…” She hugged tighter while continuing to list everyone.

She smiled, “Yeah… Let’s…”

Anna didn’t know what to say. For her entire life, first as Suzuha in Japan, she had been a solitary creature. She had never had many friends, never had people who waited for her, who looked at her with such… warmth.

A weird, oppressive pressure was developing behind her eyelids, and it felt alien. She resisted the irrational emotional outburst.

This isn't like you Suzuha... Hold it...

But she was unable to hold it in.

A single tear slipped out and ran down her cheek.

She tried to wipe it away, but it was too late.

“Mnnaaa! Anna’s crying!” Maren wrapped her tiny arms around her neck again. “Don’t be sad! We won! We won!”

Anna let out a small, watery laugh, her composure finally breaking. She hugged the little girl back, “I’m not sad, Maren,” she whispered. “I’m not.”

She looked around at the small group, at these strange, broken, and wonderful people who had become her allies, her subordinates… her friends.

“Thank you,” she said, the words feeling small but carrying the weight of a lifetime of solitude.

She did a quick mental headcount of her friend. One was missing from the immediate celebration. “Where’s Pietta?”

“She’s outside, nyaa!” the Saint said happily. “She’s helping the last of the families find each other!”

Anna stepped out from the tent into the evening's cold air. A large, well-organized refugee camp had been established around the mine entrance. 

She recognized her right away. 

Pietta was standing next to some nuns who were serving bowls of soup. 

"Pietta?"

The transformation was stunning. Her skin was free of the dark, throbbing veins that had marred it. 

The horrible white light was gone from one of her two eyes, which were now clear and normal brown. She was once again a normal human girl, save for a small silvery scar that formed a delicate pattern on her cheek, a permanent reminder of her ordeal.

Pietta saw Anna looking and approached shyly, her head bowed. “Anna,” she said, her voice soft. “I… I’m sorry for… everything… Now I realized… I shouldn’t really hate humans…”

“You’re healed, that’s all that matters… Human's can change. That what makes them beautiful." She patted her head, looking immensely curious, "You have a cool shade of blonde hair, I'm jealous..."

Pietta beamed, “Lady Terran… she fixed me,” she explained, a look of awe on her face.

“I see... And where is she now?” Anna asked, looking around for the imposing earth goddess.

Pietta pointed towards a secluded corner of the encampment, “She’s… scolding her brother,” Pietta said with a small smile.

“Pietta-chan is all better now, nyaa!” Serenya smiled, bouncing over to them. “It’s a good thing, too! She was supposed to be the next one!”

Anna’s eyebrow rose. “The next what?”

“The next Saint, of course! After me!” Serenya explained cheerfully. 

“She was the girl from the temple last year! The one who tried to claim Caelus for the succession ceremony! He got all scare and accidentally burned her! Isnt that dangerous? Pietta, you still want to be a saint, nya? Uetum can give you access now.”

Pietta blushed a deep crimson, “No… I’m fine…”

Everyone who had overheard the exchange—Jarce, Zebril, Helartha—stared in stunned silence. They all turned to Anna, waiting for her shocked reaction to the biggest revelation of the day.

But Anna wasn’t shocked at all.

She just looked at the pouting catgirl, a small, knowing smirk on her face. “I always knew it,” she said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You were the saint all along… And Pietta is... The next saint? I didn't think that far but sure, I accept it.”

A week later, the noises of saws, hammers, and yelled, friendly commands filled the night air above Frola.

The metropolis was a vast building complex, demonstrating the kingdom's unyielding will to endure.

With the western roads cleared of corruption, carriages from the other cities of Minilon were finally arriving, bringing much-needed supplies, masons, and engineers.

The Queen had declared that for the next year, all land and property within Frola would be free to claim for anyone, human or First Kin, who pledged to help rebuild.

Anna stood with her on a high, temporary wooden balcony overlooking the ruins of the royal castle,

“Why are you rebuilding this?” she asked, “The castle is gone. The city’s infrastructure is crippled.” She turned to the Queen, her orange eyes analytical.

“Minilon has other cities. Valoria in the north is more defensible. The port city is wealthier. Why must this be the capital?”

“Because this is where the wound is, Lady Anna. A kingdom is a story. To abandon this would be to tell our people that what happened here was a defeat. But to rebuild it, here, with the hands of every race working together… that tells a different story.”

“It says that we are not afraid of our past. It says we are strong enough to heal our own wounds. It tells the world that the First Kin are co-founders of this new kingdom.”

She turned to Anna. “I see this alliance as a symbol. And right now, my people need a symbol far more than they need a new capital.”

"That's understandable. I'll get going then."

The queen nods, "You can come over whenever you like."

"Yeah, thanks..."

Now instead of receiving suspicious looks, she was now greeted quietly and with polite nods as she walks through the city. A mask is not even necessary for her.

“Good evening, Lady Anna!” a dwarven mason called from a half-finished wall.

“Bless you, Saint Anna!” a human woman said, bowing her head as she passed with her children.

The titles were still uncomfortable, but the sentiment behind them was not unpleasant for her.

As she passed another large tent where nuns were distributing food, a family stepped forward, their faces clean and shining with an emotion so pure it made Anna stop in her tracks. 

It was the Silverleaf family, the farmers she had saved from the corrupted Ironwood farmstead what felt like a lifetime ago.

The father, a man whose face was now lined with weariness but no longer with despair, bowed low, his wife and children following his lead.

“Lady Anna,” he started, “We… we heard what you did. For all of them.” He gestured to the thousands of freed First Kin mingling with the human survivors. “You saved our world.”

His wife stepped forward, holding out a small, warm bundle wrapped in a clean cloth. “This isn’t much,” she said, her voice trembling slightly. “But it’s the first loaf of bread we have baked with clean hands, from grain that was not tainted. We wanted you to have it.”

Anna looked at the simple, heartfelt offering. 

"Uhh..." She looked down at the bread. Her mind struggled to process the interaction. She hadn’t saved them out of kindness. It had always been for a tactical objective, a mission, a necessary step in a larger plan. 

They didn’t know what she was. 

A vampire. 

A killer. 

A liar.

However, a weird sensation flowed through her chest as she gazed at their bright, optimistic faces and the humble piece of bread that was given to her with so much affection. 

Slowly, she extended her hand and picked up the bundle.

“…Thank you,” she said, the words feeling foreign but surprisingly genuine on her tongue. "Where is Runa?"

A deep, profound grief immediately replaced the parents' eyes' bright, optimistic brightness. 

A sob was suppressed as the mother's hand shot to her lips.

"She... she's with the healers, my lady," the father explained, his own voice cracking. "When your light... when you purified us nights ago... the corruption was burned away. For us, it was a release. But Runa... she was the strongest. She fought it the hardest, held onto her mind the longest to protect us."

"The healers say the strain of fighting such darkness for so long, of having it torn from her so violently… it shattered her mind. Her body is pure, but her spirit… is lost. She doesn't speak. She doesn't recognize us." He looked up, tears finally streaming down his face. 

"You saved her body, my lady. But I fear we have lost our daughter all the same."

After observing their distraught expressions, Anna turned her attention to the plain bread in her hands, which represented a life she had saved and a spirit she had unintentionally destroyed.

“Can I meet her?”

The Silverleafs' parents nodded and exchanged a teary, hopeful glance before guiding her inside a big, silent tent that had been built up as a temporary medical facility.

A young woman sat inside, looking blankly at the wall with the same kind eyes as her father.

It was Runa. She did not blink. She did not react. She was a beautiful but an empty vessel.

Anna walked over and knelt in front of her. She could feel it, a lingering, little bit of the corruption that was clouding the girl’s mind.

I hope it will work...

She reached out and gently took Runa’s limp, cold hand in her own then closed her eyes, focusing her will. Nights ago, she went through another evolution when she hit 50 million mana. Some of the skills finally lights up, one of them was Orivaneia's Blessing.

Whatever it was, she wanted to try it now...

"Purify..." She said slowly. Then her palm started to shine a soft, unfathomably warm golden light. A gentle, healing wave of light poured from her into Runa, searching for and carefully reassembling the girl's broken mental fragments.

But for Anna, the feeling was agony. 

Her vampiric body was filled with pure radiance holy energy that poured through her veins like molten sunfire.

As she served as a conduit for a power she was never intended to use, her hand started to steam, the flesh burning and scorching.

She clenched her jaw, yet she held on.

She put her own obstinate, willful will into the healing light after seeing the picture of a girl without anybody from her own lonely background. 

You will not be alone... She thought

Not you. No one does...

She waited, through the burning agony, until a last, bright burst of golden light swept over Runa. Anna fell, her hand a smoldering, charred shambles, but her gaze remained focused on the girl.

Runa gave a blink. Once. Twice. A growing, bewildered awareness replaced the empty look in her eyes.

She glanced at her own hands before turning to face her happy, crying parents.

“…Mama? Papa…?” she whispered, her voice a fragile croak.

Then, her gaze fell upon Anna, upon the pale vampire nursing her terribly burned hand.

Runa's eyes welled up with tears of genuine adoration rather than sadness.

“…Saint…” she breathed.

The word echoed in the quiet tent, a final, undeniable verdict. Anna had saved her. And the cost, the searing, agonizing pain in her hand, was absolutely worth it.