Monster and Monster

This is no good. That’s the spot he proposed to me. I’d rather not share it with someone so dangerous if possible.

The young boy clearly has the Mark of the Hunted. A murderer, at his age? He looks more human than monster or magus.

This is not my territory, but last weekend’s spike of magical output has put me on edge. I spy on the magus responsible from a distance of 50, 40, then 20 km, able to see in extreme, microscopic detail even while moving at high speeds, testing his ability to perceive me.

He must be quite skilled to relax out in the open in this manner, displaying the mark that screams ‘target me freely’. However, opposed to this confidence, I sense no mana usage. Adam, my Dhampir servant, has yet to witness either during his incursions. Instead, we’ve come across two Magi intending to kill him.

Disgusting. Magi don’t change, no matter the generation. He’s only a child.

If he’s that big of a prize, monster to monster, I will use him for myself.

If he will not act, I will remind him of the homogony right now. The moon is out; this is my stage.

I descended upon the wretch with a malevolent whim, only to find my stride broken by a most curious sight: moonlight, shimmering in his pathetic tears.

…

Around half a month has passed since I arrived at the large orphanage.

I am now around ten years old, or so the doctor had determined, so I mix well with the group. The kids are alright, but I end up picking more fights against the bullies than making new friends.

As for the adults, they aren’t cold-hearted, but they aren’t especially kind either. They treat us with a combination of indifference and high expectations for maturity. I miss the nurse and doctor at the hospital. They were nicer.

The adults set a strict schedule for us to follow: eat, chores, classes, sleep. At least they give us free time between each activity and a decent education. I asked when we could have magic class, and received laughter. Nobody here seems to know about magic.

Overall, the orphanage is infinitely better than the conditions in the mansion’s catacombs, but I still don’t like it here. I don't want to be at the orphanage anymore.

So, I run away from it almost every day.

The gravel under my shoes makes melodic crunching noises as I make my way along the mountainside road. I reach a lush incline overlooking the horizon. In the far distance, nestled between the wide mountain valley, a quiet village can be seen. But it is a place too far away for my small legs to carry me.

My muscles burn from running, but my heart is what truly weighs me down. I’m healthy, but I’m utterly alone.

Before I know it, I’m wiping away tears. Why? This place is so similar to my heavenly dream, so it should make me happy… And yet…

“I messed up again…” I whisper. I used to only dream of a perfect hillside with just myself. I didn’t know that sharing it could be so fun, and not sharing it could be so lonely. “Can this place become my new heaven?”

I rest on the grassy hillside and look across the distant valley. If I can find shuteye here, I am satisfied with the little warmth the open space provides me. As I sniffle, I try to convince myself that I might just find happiness here, a happiness to give and share…

“Child.”

A giant startles me. I pick myself up quickly, turning toward the unexpected newcomer.

The voice belongs to a pretty lady. Her long ponytail and equally long crimson ribbon dance in the breeze. She radiates a blinding, gentle kind of beauty.

"Get up. You’re sitting in my seat." She smiles kindly, but stares down at me, challenging me for the patch of grass.

I get angry at her. She better not have seen my tears. “What do you mean? You can sit anywhere on this hill!” This location is full of green to enjoy. There are even empty benches nearby.

“You speak as if all earth were equal. The mana gathers there. That spot belongs to me because it's the best one.”

“I don’t know what you’re saying. You’re weird.”

After all, the caretakers and even the people I have met outside the orphanage, everyone… they all… “…the imagination of a child…” “…should we send him back to the hospital?” “…why do you speak of such dark fantasies?” “…it’s the crazy kid again…” “…don’t taint the reputation of this orphanage, boy.”

The pretty lady dodges my insult. Instead, her bright smile falters, and she bends over, getting her beautiful face uncomfortably close to mine, inspecting my wet eyes with wide, unblinking curiosity.

“Hmmm...?”

I can feel my cheeks turn reddish pink. Her expression shifts into one of deep, suffocating pity.

“Oh, you’ve been crying, little one,” she mocks. “All that sadness… it’s making a terrible hissing noise. You’re going to stain this gorgeous hill with it. Since you can’t see mana, I take it you haven’t seen the mark on you either? The Mark of the Hunted. Branded right onto you.” She reaches out, her fingers as cold as ice, and taps my upper cheek.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Really.”

“You should. Your life is on the line.”

“Why? Did I do something bad? I understand mana, but I have no mark--”

“Then your eyes are not accustomed, or you are blind. You shall look at my hands. At the snapping of my fingers, tell me when you see each spell.”

She snaps her fingers, cycling through different rune phrases. Like she’s testing for bad vision, similar to what the doctor did at the hospital using the alphabet.

I can’t see anything.

“Ah! A magic orb! Wait, go back!”

“Follow until the end, impatient child.” She sneers. “As expected, you have a very deep affinity for dark magic. Do you know what that means?”

I shake my head, frozen under her teaching.

“This is no good. It means those humans down there will never understand you,” she says smoothly, her bright smile returning. “They’ll only see the ugly shadows you cast when you cry. But a miracle like you shouldn’t be crying. Sadness is just bad magic. It ruins this holy night, and your tears keep mana away from my favorite spot. Think happier thoughts. The mana will accept you then.”

There is no malice in her expression. In fact, she looks like a saint. Her words wrap around my chest like a tight ribbon. Sadness is bad magic. “Well... you do look worn out, so you may have my seat for now. Be thankful for my great magnanimity.”

With that, the pretty lady happily plops down onto the soft ground to the right of me, completely carefree. The grin doesn't leave her face, even as she rests with her hands behind her head.

I consider getting away, but I can’t help but be captivated by her. She is the first adult anywhere to use magic with me and smile. She shines like the sun, but she told me exactly what I need to do to stay in her light: Think happy thoughts.

The lady opens one of her bright eyes. “Oh, my name is Andromeda, by the way. Mother of All Vampires. Call me Anna.”

And then she closes her eyes, breathing deeply as if there were no worries in the world.

“Vampire… Amazing! Anna... aren’t you going to ask for my name too? They gave me a new name! Koyama!”

“Koyama,” she tastes, her smile thinning. She turns her gaze down the mountain, toward the distant, symmetrical buildings of the city. “A human name for a human cage. It doesn’t suit you at all.”

The wind picks up, making her long crimson ribbon dance like a streak of fresh blood against the night sky. She nears, her freezing fingers gently cupping my cheek, wiping away the last trace of my tears. Her touch is as cold as the catacombs, but it is the first time since I left the hospital that anyone has willingly touched me with care.

“You run up to this patch of dirt every night because you are empty, little one,” she whispers in mesmerizing, dangerous lullaby. “You are looking for a safe haven that humans cannot give you. The Magi, too, will come after you. Instead of running to this hillside at night, I shall entreat you to what you are missing. Come to my estate. I will fill what makes you hollow.”

I look at her offered hand. If the caretakers keep telling me I’m crazy, then how can this beautiful, terrifying lady look at my magic and call me a miracle? Why can’t they understand the way that she can?

Yes… It is a miracle. I am a miracle!

My chest still hurts, but I swallow the feeling down. I push the tears away, terrified that if I let them fall, she will withdraw her hand and leave me alone again. I force my mouth into the shape she wants to see. I want to be filled. I want to be understood.

So, I reach out and take it.