02 – The Village on the Road

Dusk came slowly, the sun bleeding out across the horizon in shades of amber and crimson.

Velmira watched from the shadow of the temple. She felt the weight of the daylight getting lighter, bit by bit. Her skin still tingled from the morning's brief contact with sunlight, reminding her that her body's limitations were real and dangerous.

The hunger had settled into a constant, gnawing presence. It wasn't urgent enough to overwhelm her, but she couldn't ignore it. It was like background noise that influenced every thought and feeling.

She spent the day exploring the temple. She found dust, decay, and a statue with an unknown rune. There was no supplies or equipment, and there were no easy-to-find markers to guide her.

She was alone, except for the unfamiliar body and the distant sound of human voices carried on the wind.

When it was finally dark, Velmira left the temple.

The forest was alive in ways that Yggdrasil's environments had never captured.

Real leaves rustled in the wind. She felt the hard ground under her feet, but she didn't leave any footprints. It seemed like her vampire weight was lighter than normal.

The air was filled with the hum of insects as they buzzed around the plants and trees in the area. Somewhere, an owl called, and another one answered.

She moved through the trees with an unnatural grace, her body navigating obstacles before her conscious mind realized they were there. Branches separated to make room for her. Roots weren't a problem for her to stay balanced.

It was disorienting to be this competent and in such good physical shape.

As a human, she had been clumsy. She had often tripped over her own feet. She was the kind of person who walked into doorframes.

Now she felt like a ghost, moving through the world, connected to it but not quite part of it.

After about an hour of walking, the village appeared through the trees. She couldn't tell time without the sun. The warm light from the windows made the room feel cozy. Smoke rose from chimneys. The smell of cooking meat and baking bread drifted on the evening air, and Velmira's stomach clenched even though she wasn't hungry.

She stopped at the edge of the forest, feeling unsure.

In Yggdrasil, NPCs were simple things like dialogue trees and quest dispensers, characters that followed scripts, or just heartless AI. She never worried about what they thought of her avatar's appearance because they weren't real. Their fear or admiration were not real feelings.

But these people were real.

She looked like something from their nightmares.

Velmira pulled her travel cloak tighter around herself. The cloak was dark and hooded. It was one of the few game mechanics that still seemed to function. The shadow of the hood covered her face. In the dim light of dusk, she might look like a human. Maybe.

She took a breath she didn't need and stepped onto the village road.

The change from the forest to the town was marked by a simple wooden sign that had been weathered by the sun and was leaning slightly.

She couldn't read the script — the characters were unfamiliar, some kind of runic alphabet — but somehow their meaning made sense to her: Herzfeld. The population is 127.

The road was made of packed earth, in good repair, and lined with simple houses made of wood and straw.

Some people were moving around as the light was starting to fade. An older man was putting up shutters. A woman was telling children to come inside for dinner. Two young men were carrying water from a well.

Velmira walked slowly and carefully, trying to match what she remembered of normal human movement:

Don't glide. Let your footsteps make sound. Breathe out slowly. Seem tired from travel.

Good, perfect.

A child saw her first. It was a girl, maybe seven years old. She was standing in a doorway and staring. Velmira could feel the weight of that look on her. The girl's eyes showed her curiosity, but she wasn't afraid yet. Then her mother came, saw Velmira, and quickly pulled the child inside, saying something sharp.

The door shut firmly.

She kept walking, knowing that other people were looking at her.

People stopped talking as soon as she passed by. The two young men with water buckets stopped to watch, their bodies still and hands on the knives at their belts.

Not hostile. Not yet. But they weren't very welcoming.

The village's center held a small square with a communal well, a few market stalls that were closed for the night, and what appeared to be an inn; a two-story building with a painted sign showing a sleeping fox. Light and sound came pouring out of its windows: voices, laughter, and the sound of cups clinking together.

Normal. Human. Warm.

Velmira stood in the empty square, feeling unsure of what to do.

What could she do? Walk into the inn and ask for a room that you don't need and can't pay for? Talk to people who might notice that something's off about her? Act like a normal traveler, even though everything about her said otherwise?

The inn's door opened, and a man stepped out. He was a middle-aged man with a thick build and he was wearing a stained apron. The innkeeper, probably. He looked at her for a long moment, and his face showed no emotions.

"You lost, traveler?" His voice was rough but not unkind. The language should have been unintelligible, but like the sign, its meaning simply... translated itself in her mind. Another mystery gift or curse had brought her here.

"I..." Velmira's voice sounded smooth, but it didn't come out clearly. She tried again, making it rough.

"I'm looking for a place to stay. For the night."

The innkeeper looked a little upset. Even in the dim light, she could see him taking in details. He noticed the quality of her cloak, how pale her skin was, and the way she held herself.

"We don't get many travelers this time of year. The road from the capital has been quiet."

It wasn't really a question, but it seemed like one. Like, "Where are you from?" Why are you here? What are you?

"I've been traveling a long time," Velmira said. This was true in the sense that she had been on the road for a long time, but it was more of a subjective experience than an actual measurement in days. "I have money." That's a lie. She wasn't sure if Yggdrasil's currency would work there, but she needed to speak up.

The innkeeper made a noise.

"Come inside, then. But I should mention that people here get nervous around strangers. There have been more and more reports of demon activity along the border. People are nervous."

Demons. The word made her feel shocked. It would be better to ask later.

She followed him into the inn.

The common room went quiet when she came in. About a dozen people were sitting at wooden tables. They were drinking and eating snacks. There was a fire in a big fireplace. The air smelled like beer, roasted meat, wood smoke, and human bodies. It was different from the clean air in her apartment.

Everyone looked at her.

Velmira lowered her hood slowly, a deliberate decision.

If she hid, they would just get more suspicious. It's better to seem open and harmless, even though that's impossible with her appearance.

The reaction was immediate. A woman gasped. One of the men got up from his seat and moved his hand towards the sword on the table. An older man made a gesture to ward her off, and she didn't recognize it, but she understood what he was trying to do.

"Peace," Velmira said quickly, keeping her hands visible and empty.

"I don't want to hurt anyone. I'm just a traveler. Nothing more."

"Nothing more?" A woman's voice sounds doubtful. She was about forty years old and wore a hunter's hat.

"You're very pale. Your eyes are like rubies. You don't even cast a proper shadow in the firelight."

Velmira looked down.

The woman was right. Her shadow looked thin and almost see-through. This was another detail she hadn't noticed until someone pointed it out.

Maybe the game mechanics are showing through. The undead races of Yggdrasil had the ability to manipulate shadows, which was shown in small visual problems.

"I'm sick," she said, trying to explain. "It's a blood condition, you know. It makes me sensitive to sunlight and changes how I look. I've had it since I was born."

The lie felt wrong to her, but what could she say? I'm a vampire from a video game that apparently manifested in your reality?

The hunter woman didn't seem sure.

"A blood condition. How convenient."

"Marta." The innkeeper's voice carried warning. "The girl hasn't done anything wrong. Let her be."

"But," Marta said, but she sat back in her chair, keeping her hand near her bow.

The innkeeper pointed to an empty table in the corner.

"Sit down. I'll get you something to eat."

"I'm not hungry." The words came naturally and honestly, and she immediately regretted them. Normal travelers would be hungry. Normal humans always were.

The innkeeper looked even more cautious.

"You're not hungry. After traveling. In the cold."

Velmira made herself sit, looked tired, and acted the part.

"Maybe just soup. Something light. My stomach's been bothering me."

He made a noise and started moving toward the kitchen. The other customers slowly went back to their conversations, but she could feel them paying attention to her, all around her and all the time. She was the most interesting thing in the room, but not in a good way.

A young man approached her. She realized that he was one of the water-carriers from earlier. He looked like he was about twenty, with a strong body type and nervous energy.

"You really come from the capital?"

"Further," Velmira said, which was true in ways he couldn't imagine. "I've been traveling a long time."

"Have you seen anything strange on the road? Have you heard any news?"

He leaned in conspiratorially.

"My cousin is in the military. Reports say that demons are near the border villages.

"I travel mostly at night," Velmira said, then immediately felt bad. Why would she admit that?

"The heat bothers me. My condition."

"At night?" The young man was shocked.

"That's dangerous. Things hunt at night. Demons hunt at night."

"I can protect myself."

"With what? You don't carry weapons."

He was right. She had been so focused on not seeming dangerous that she had forgotten that any real traveler would be armed.

"Magic," she said quietly.

That caused a ripple through the room. The conversations didn't stop, but they became more cautious.

It seems like mages were respected in this world, judging by how people reacted. So saying you are one is either a bold lie or a dangerous truth.

"You're a mage?" The young man looked surprised and doubtful. "You don't look like one. Where's your staff? Your grimoire?"

"Not all mages advertise their abilities," Velmira said, which made sense. "I prefer to travel light."

The innkeeper came back with a bowl of thin soup and a piece of dark bread. He set them before her with slightly more respect than before, but his expression showed that he was still cautious.

"Mage, eh? We don't see many in Herzfeld. Here it is too far from anywhere important."

Velmira looked down at the soup. Steam rose from the surface, and its scent was reminiscent of herbs and root vegetables. Her vampire body didn't care about it. She felt nothing when she saw it, except maybe a little bit of disgust. But she had to try. I had to keep up the act.

She lifted the spoon and took a sip.

The liquid touched her tongue, and her body rejected it right away. It wasn't violent, and there was no gag reflex or nausea, but there was a simple, absolute refusal to process it. The soup felt like ash in her mouth. It didn't taste anything, and she couldn't swallow it.

She forced it down anyway, feeling the foreign substance slide down her throat and settle in a stomach that didn't want it.

It felt really bad.

"Good," she said, her voice sounding weak. "Thank you."

The innkeeper nodded slowly. But she could see the calculation in his eyes.

Velmira took another spoonful of soup, then another, each one an exercise in willpower. She couldn't taste anything. The soup was just water and dirt. But she ate because that's what humans did, and she needed — really needed — these people to see her as human, even if she wasn't.

Across the room, Marta watched with narrowed eyes. The young man went back to his table but kept looking over at her. An elderly woman in the corner made that warding gesture again when she thought Velmira wasn't looking.

They knew. Deep down, they knew she was wrong. Other. Dangerous.

But they put up with her, and that would have to be enough.

Velmira ate half of the soup, but then she felt sick to her stomach.

The bread remained untouched; the thought of eating solid food was even more disgusting than drinking it.

She pushed the bowl away and looked at the innkeeper.

"I'd like a room, please. Just for tonight."

"Ten copper," he said.

She didn't know if that was fair or too much. She took out a small coin from her cloak. The coin had been in Yggdrasil's inventory. It was silver and had a symbol on it that she didn't recognize. The game's currency probably has no value here.

The innkeeper took it, looked it over closely, then bit into it. His eyebrows moved up.

"This is pure silver. It's a foreign coin, but it's a good weight. I can give you change."

"Keep it," Velmira said, feeling relieved. The currency worked, somehow. Another small miracle or game mechanic that has continued in this new reality.

"You're so generous!" The innkeeper took the coin.

"The room is upstairs at the end of the hall. I'll bring up a basin if you want to wash."

"No need." She didn't want him in her room, didn't want to risk him noticing she cast no reflection in water or metal. "Thank you."

Velmira stood, feeling like everyone was looking at her. She walked toward the stairs, taking each step carefully. She knew that she could move too quickly, too elegantly, and too easily.

"Um... Mage," Marta said as she reached the stairs.

Velmira turned.

The hunter woman was standing now, looking serious.

"If you can protect yourself, maybe you can help us. Something is killing the animals on the farms in the north. It tears them apart and drinks their blood. This only happens at night."

The room was quiet again. Everyone was watching.

"The local army police won't do anything," Marta continued. "It could be wolves or wild dogs. But I've hunted wolves. This isn't wolves."

A creature that drinks blood. They are most active at night. Velmira felt a cold dread settle in her chest. Were there other vampires here? Or was this something else?

"I'm not a hunter," she said carefully.

"But you're a mage. You travel at night. It seems like you know about night creatures."

It was a test. Or a trap. Or maybe it was just people who were really scared hoping for something.

"I'll think about it," Velmira said finally. "Let me rest. We can talk in the morning."

"You mean evening," Marta said pointedly. "Since you travel at night."

"Evening, then."

Velmira climbed the stairs before anyone could stop her. The upper hall was dimly lit by a single candle in a wall sconce. The room at the end was small. It had a bed, a chair, and a window with shutters. Simple and clean.

She closed the door and leaned against it, finally relaxing.

Her hands were shaking. The soup felt like poison in her stomach, and her body was trying to process it, but it couldn't. She felt hungry all the time, and it was made worse by the fact that there were other people in the room with her. She could hear their hearts beating through the floorboards.

She had succeeded. Barely. She talked to people, kept up her cover story, and even got a room. But anyone who was paying attention could see that her disguise was not perfect. The way she didn't eat properly. Her shadow moved the wrong way. She had an elegant posture.

How long could she keep this up?

Velmira went to the window and opened the shutters a little. She looked out at the village. Some lights were still on in the windows. Smoke kept coming up from the chimneys. Normal people living normal lives, while she stood in the darkness pretending to be one of them.

The hunger struck again, insistent.

She closed her eyes and thought of the fox in the forest. It would have been easy to feed the fox. That's how it should be. Her body knew what it needed, even if her conscience didn't agree.

But there was another problem. It was more immediate than hunger.

The sunlight.

She couldn't keep hiding like this, in the dark, and spending the day in shadows and ruins. If she wanted to understand this world and find answers about why she'd been transported here, she needed to move freely. The sunlight weakness wasn't just inconvenient; it was very difficult to deal with.

Velmira opened her eyes and thought deeply, trying to understand her vampire nature like she might have looked at her character sheet in Yggdrasil. The game's interface was gone, but the structure underneath was still there. She could feel it, like phantom limbs: the structure of her powers and limitations.

Sunlight Vulnerability: Racial Trait. Passive debuff during daylight hours. Drains Stamina and HP over time.

In Yggdrasil, there had been ways to lessen the impact. The equipment has sun protection. This is something that gets used up. Temporary improvements. She never used them because she preferred dungeons and night raids, but she had seen other undead players use them.

She thought to herself. Her inventory was still working, wasn't it? She had just shown that with the coin. What else could there be?

Velmira looked inside and outside herself to find things that could help. Her consciousness touched things around her: clothes she didn't need, some weapons she had collected but not used, things she could use to make other things, and things she had found in the past.

There. A cloak.

She pulled it into reality, and dark fabric materialized in her hands.

The Moonveil Cloak, she remembered it now. She had won it from a raid boss years ago. It was a mid-tier item, and she kept it in storage because its stats weren't optimal for her build. But it had a special property: Sunlight Resistance (Minor). It reduces sun damage by 70%.

It wasn't immunity. But it might be enough.

Velmira held the cloak up to the candlelight, examining the fabric. It looked like her current travel cloak, but it was finer, with subtle silver threads woven into the dark material. The threads shimmered when they caught the light. The craftsmanship was clearly inspired by games: it's too perfect!

Would it work here? Would Yggdrasil's magic work in this world?

There's only one way to find out.

She went to the window and opened the shutters. The moon was full and bright in the clear sky, with more stars visible than she had ever seen from her apartment in the city. There's no light pollution here. It's just the dark night of medieval times.

Beautiful. And lonely.

Tomorrow — or tonight, actually — she would have to make a decision.

Help these people with their predator problem and risk exposure?

Or move on, continue wandering, to find answers about why she was here and how to survive this existence?

But first, she needed to know if she could survive the day.

For now, she stood at the window, watching the village sleep. She felt more alone than she ever had in her human life.

At least in Yggdrasil, she was part of a guild. Other players. The illusion of companionship.

Here, she had nothing but this monstrous body and the slow realization that she would spend forever among people she could never truly join.

It got darker and darker.

The village became quiet.

Velmira stayed at her window, not alive or dead, not human or monster. She was stuck in the scary space in between.

End of Chapter 2