Chapter 32: Chapter 5

The trip to Lockward felt like an eternity. Even with the cold air, the sun had been relentless against my skin, making every day miserable. Because of my abnormal sensitivity to light, I needed to take frequent breaks in the shade to avoid dying of heat exhaustion.

Many trees had shed their canopies, making it difficult to find shelter from the daylight. I was just thankful I didn’t explode into flames when the cover was sparse. 

There was faint smoke and a pungent rotten egg smell leaching from my skin, which I believe was caused by my hair burning in the sun. I had to consider this when venturing into town, as I wasn’t sure how well-known the nightstalker’s curse was. However, I was pretty confident people would be frightened seeing me catch fire.

My attempt to beat the odds would be rather anticlimactic if I were killed the moment I entered town. I didn’t walk all this way for it to end in that manner. There was bound to be something I could do to conceal this side effect of the sun.

The fur coat had long been stuffed into my backpack. One would think that wearing it would block the sun, but it created an oven inside, which exacerbated the situation.

I was aware of the chilly temperature, but it had no influence on the blazing heat of my flesh baking in the sun. The breeze amounted to someone trying to blow a forest fire out with their breath.

Crying was likely to happen soon, and my enthusiasm from before about finding a cure had fizzled out almost as quickly as it first arrived.

Besides my skin turning into leather, my eyes struggled to stay open. As a result, I couldn’t see anything but the sun’s blinding light for most of the day. Worried I would walk off the ocean cliff by accident, I tried to stay as close to the forest as possible, but the uneven terrain was energy-consuming.

I flopped down underneath a tree that still had some of its golden and brown leaves, drinking from my water pouch I had filled with snow a few times.

Eating snow for thirst was a terrible idea, and I saw many children get sick doing it, but I was having difficulty finding anywhere to fill it up. Illness was also low on my priorities. If the nightstalkers lived in that disgusting cavern with bat defecation everywhere, eating snow would probably not kill me.

This trip had already escalated to a week, and I still presumably had a day of walking left. Despite the freezing weather, I had trouble hiking in the afternoons now. Snowfall made this bearable but didn’t block the sun’s brightness entirely.

My adventure to cure vampirism was already preparing to end dully.

In time, I would only be able to function at night, making me suspicious. Conversations with people about the location of healers or medicine would be difficult, nearly impossible.

It wasn’t as if I could open up with, ‘hey, you know where the cure for vampirism is?’ that would have me reported to the authorities without pause.

A light mist of steam danced off my skin into the chilly air as I leaned against the aspen tree and stared at the branches swaying in the wind.

The sun would set shortly, and I could travel unhindered. Traversing at night was my only option now. Voyaging during the day simply lengthened the trip with constant stopping.

Realising how quickly I was turning into a monster made me depressed. I hoped the side effects would take longer, but the burning was one of the earliest to manifest.

Luckily, I hadn’t had the urge to devour anyone yet. Not that I had seen another person since Richard.

This was a good time for me to eat since I would likely be here for the remainder of the afternoon.

I unenthusiastically flipped the brass buckle at the top of my backpack and removed some bread.

After tossing the leather bag to my side, I stuffed the bread into my cheek like a chipmunk, chewing it for longer than necessary.

My food was going stale, or nightstalkers liked nothing but human flesh and blood.

Swallowing felt unnatural as the soggy mush took some effort to push down. My throat didn’t want to accept it, like my brain didn’t understand it was food.

Even the dried venison Richard had put in here for me lacked flavour but tasted much better than the bread.

While eating presented a challenge, it at least eased my stomach’s nagging. Or at least I thought that was what I was feeling. The sensation was closer to thirst rather than hunger.

After dragging myself to my feet a few hours later, I started my way inland at an angle to ensure I made progress to Lockward while simultaneously searching for a river or stream.

I desperately needed to fill my water and had yet to run into any outlets flowing into the ocean. This detour made the trip longer, since I was forced to walk on mountainous terrain that worsened the farther I travelled into the forest.

Hours passed, and my mind became clouded as it seemed like I was wading through water. Because of my legs’ difficulty in stepping forward, I tripped numerous times on nothing.

Every time I crashed into the hard ground, I lay there for minutes, debating whether I should get up. The temptation to surrender was strong, but I forced myself to my feet and continued.

The noise of birds and branches snapping under my boots sounded muffled like I was listening through a wall.

Thoughts outside of the need for sleep were nonexistent. Exhaustion pillaged my emotions of any energy.

It was almost as if I were trapped in a dream as the ground gradually flattened out, and I stopped at a small pond with a thin layer of ice—I wasn’t sure if it was real at first.

My eyes squinted at the surface as if this was a trick. Paranoia was setting in as I glanced around like someone had left this water here as a trap. I felt anxious about my surroundings, even though I had no reason to. From the very beginning, I felt like something was following me.

Even with my feelings and knowing that drinking from the small pool of stagnant water was not wise, I fell to my knees and plunged my face through the ice. The frozen surface was at least thin and spared me from possibly knocking myself unconscious, like an idiot.

The water needed to be boiled, but I had to satisfy my animalistic thirst and could not heat it.

As my stomach filled with water, the nagging feeling it had before must not have been for food because this water satisfied me like no meal ever had. There was euphoria from its consumption, which felt weird.

The question of whether nightstalkers become ill would be answered soon.

Removing my head from the pond, I sat back on my legs and gasped for air. My breath and face steamed in the brisk wind before my pause ended, and I dived back in. I could not get enough of the icy water. It was difficult to pry myself away as my stomach felt bloated, and I worried I would hurt myself.

As my face emerged from the water, I saw the black wolf standing on the other side of the pond. They stared at me with what I thought was a look of judgement rather than curiosity, tilting their head back and forth.

Was this animal following me? It was not for food because it could have eaten me far sooner.

I flipped my wet hair back. “What? I am thirsty,” I stated, and their red eyes glared at me, rarely blinking.

The water inside my belly dampened the furnace that had been making my life miserable. Getting chilly for the first time in days was pleasant. I glanced at the twilight sky, feeling rejuvenated by the brisk air. It was likely to stay below freezing soon, which was fine with me.

I filled my water pouch, sat down and crossed my legs, thinking about my next moves.

Entering the town would have to be done at night or close to it. From there, I hoped to sneak my way onto a boat. After that, getting to a large city would be my preferred course of action.

Unfortunately, I was unlikely to find any help this far into the country. A large ministry would be an excellent place to ask around, but I wasn’t sure where one was. I did not really understand maps or my location in the world.

At least my mother taught me how to write and speak correctly. That would benefit me… hopefully.

Father truly wanted to live away from civilisation. While he rarely spoke of the world outside our village, when he did, it was about how the luxury of living in a city clouded everyone’s minds. That when war arrived at their doors, they wouldn’t know how to deal with the hardship that would accompany it.

I didn’t share this sentiment. Truthfully, I was eager to see this strange land and see how much comfort my father was talking about.

My vision has been void of the glowing window since killing the nightstalker. It just seemed so bizarre to me. While I told myself it was in my head, I didn’t have enough creativity to envision it on my own.

I believed there was a magical element to this. Father told me about mages casting spells, but it seemed foolish. A lot of the things he said were far-fetched, but now…

There had to be a trigger for it.

“Open”—I tossed my arms up, and the wolf's eyes squinted at me—“Yeah, I know I look insane,” I mumbled as my hand fell in defeat.

It might come up if I used the word that the window displayed in that odd language. I wasn’t confident I knew how to pronounce it, but I intended to try.

“System?”

Yep, nothing. I was delusional. It never happened, and this curse had eroded my mind.

As I stared forward at the wolf, I sighed. “You got any ideas?”

Their head tilted again like a dog trying to understand what was being said to them.

My eyes closed, and I sat my forearms on my knees with a long exhale. This might be less about words and more about thoughts. I wondered what would happen if I focused and imagined the window again. The white background and the green and yellow lines that sat on top of the waving shapes… I wanted to see this system again.

Out of nowhere, a white window appeared, sending my eyes open.  

This window was not the one I had witnessed before, but it was this so-called system. The squares in the middle appeared like they had a purpose. 

I reached out, trying to touch it, but the system appeared as if it were in my head rather than physically in front of me. 

However, that thought did not last long as I heard a soft female voice say: <touch mode enabled>.

My hand now caused ripples through the window that was within arm's reach. Averting my eyes from it caused it to fall transparent. 

Yes. Yes. YES! 

I was floored that I summoned this wild occurrence again. My finger eagerly touched the symbol, which looked like a circle with lines. 

A map appeared, and I saw my village and Lockward with lines I assumed represented roads. The red arrow seemed to be my location. I would need to confirm this once I moved a short distance.

Amazing! This would be an incredible resource. 

My enthusiasm hung on the bright side for the first time in days. Of course, I did not know what was happening, but that was okay.

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After struggling to return to the menu, a waving motion did the trick. 

Some of this stuff was locked? I tried pressing it, but nothing happened. 

Finally, I touched the icon that looked like a person, which did not have a lock symbol. 

Hmm. Stats. A lot was going on here that I didn’t understand. 

The dead-looking hand at the top next to my name didn’t make me feel too optimistic. Whatever that meant, I was sure it was not a positive thing. 

Health and stamina numbers are vaguely what I remember seeing before.

So health was like, my life? And stamina was my endurance, basically how much I could run. Everything was self-explanatory after staring at it for a moment. 

I wasn’t sure what dexterity meant. 

It might be like fighting skills. Or a measure of my crafting ability? I was decent at making bows, but that was about it.

Why was the thing called ‘essence’ zero? I felt like I was being cheated out of something. It shouldn’t surprise me, though; I invented getting the short end of the stick. 

Everything else had base numbers except essence. 

That word was really the only one foreign to me. It seemed odd I was reading a language that wasn’t my own, yet translating it into what I knew. 

Why was essence the only thing that I had no concept of?

Agility was the third highest thing, which made sense if it was related to speed; I had a touch of swiftness in my step compared to others.

Some bars were slightly filled. So there’s a way to fill them. But how? 

Agh. So many questions. I wondered if anyone else had seen this. If so, I would love to chat with them.

The green plus signs looked like they had a purpose, so I went ahead and put my finger on the one next to health.

What a rip-off. I got two health points for all that XP. 

I should have given myself essence or something, even though I didn’t know what it did. It bothered me it was zero. 

Anyway, So Allocable XP is what I can use to improve my stats. 

This felt sort of fun. Rewarding in a way. Now, I needed to find out what XP was awarded for. 

The higher I got my health, the less likely I would die… that could be a problem for other people if I lost my mind... I wouldn’t think about that too much.

I waved my hand, returning to the main menu.

When I clicked on the booklet button with a question mark, it was just a dictionary, like my mother taught me with. There were a lot of words on the list, and it carried on forever after I figured out a flicking motion that moved the window down.

That was to be saved for later.

Upon touching the three blue lines at the top of the window, it closed, and I saw the wolf looking at me as if I were crazy.

My eyes glanced down at my arm, still wrapped in the bandages I had left home with. Due to sleeping on the ground and my blood seeping through the fabric, the white cloth had turned dark brown. 

How nightstalkers healed was beyond my knowledge, but the wound no doubt could use a scrub. The wrapping certainly needed a cleaning. Given how much I sweated these past few days, I should wash everything I wore. Walking into town looking like a mess would not help me. 

Even my own smell was starting to bother me.

I grabbed the end of the bandage and hesitated as my heart pounded in my throat.

Although I knew it would be disastrous, there was still hope, which drove me to remove the wrapping slowly, and my heart raced faster with every rotation. 

It was worse than expected as I unravelled the last bit of cloth, and it fell to the ground. My wrist was still severely swollen, and the sliced skin from the nightstalker’s nails oozed black pus. The decaying odour reminded me of rotting fish, making it difficult not to vomit as I gagged. 

This was bad. Really bad.

I dunked my forearm into the icy bath and struggled to wash off the unnatural-looking fluid, which held a thickness. 

Like oil, the dark substance floated on the water, not mixing.

Not only had the wound turned black, but also the veins in my forearm were greyish. I knew my arm was dying, and I would soon have to decide when to take it off. 

There’s no way I could do it myself if it came down to that. I’d have to enlist the help of someone else, even if I had the strength to do it. 

Unfortunately, the curse did not cure whatever was wrong with the flesh. If anything, it exasperated the issue—Par, the course of my luck. I couldn’t get a break. 

My fingers could barely move, but that was progress from their prior paralysis. At first, I thought my lack of mobility was because the bandages were too tight. However, that was not the case now. 

I couldn’t even feel my hand a day ago, but now there was some sensation in the cold water. 

On a positive note, the swelling made it difficult to tell, but my wrist did not seem broken anymore. It was crushed to pieces by the Nightstalker’s teeth.

So maybe it was healing? There was no other explanation for it.

After removing all traces of the black fluid from my lacerations, I moved to a nearby spot, away from my arms’ mess. I rinsed the wraps and wrung them onto the snow next to me, extracting all the black from the bandages.

While twisting the wraps to get all the water out, I glanced up at the wolf lying in the snow. They had their paws crossed on the small hill above the pond, watching me closely and sniffing the air—the wolf probably smelled my arm rotting.

I swathed my wrist and forearm tightly, ensuring the smell didn’t carry through the bandages, but in a way that allowed my fingers to move. 

Then, after some cautious smells of my dressings, I took my clothes off and, in a squatted position, washed them in the pond.

As I looked up again, I locked eyes with the wolf in a naked stare-down. This made me more embarrassed than it should have, considering they were a wolf and not a person. I desperately wished for their gaze to move.

“Could you move somewhere?” I asked, making shooing gestures at the motionless wolf. My lips pressed together. “Or just keep doing it. Whatever.” I returned to rinsing my clothes.

Changing into soaking cold garments, I resumed my journey and headed back towards the coast, energised. With my stomach bulging and my pouch full, I was sure to make it to town without dying of thirst.

My clothes froze over as I walked through the freezing night. I stayed quite comfortable during the trip despite the chilly wind and snowstorm. However, my clothes dried promptly when the sun warmed my skin the next day. 

The wolf did not accompany me on my trip. Yet, I had a feeling they were not far behind. Almost as if I sensed their presence.

Hm. Odd. 

My pace was good, even with me napping in the shade sporadically. As I reached the hill’s summit, the sun began its descent towards the horizon. 

Ahead, the mountains stood tall against the rich oranges and reds of the afternoon sky. The shapely slopes guided my eyes down to the middle of the valley that gave way to the ocean. A harbour city kissed the bay’s shoreline. 

It had been referred to as a town my whole life, but this was no such thing. Thousands of people live here. It was a city. 

This would’ve been a beautiful sight during the summer, but now the trees had shed all their leaves, and snow blanketed the mountains on both sides. The wind howled through the now gloomy valley with anger. 

The wall surrounding the city stood as a defence that I imagine even the greatest army could not possibly breach.

A large river ran down the far side of the city’s barrier, emptying into the bay.  

Docks stretched out from the mainland like fingers towards the sea, and massive boats sidled next to them, unloading into the port. Men pour in and out of the hauls looking like ants in a line from this distance.

The enormous white sails of the anchored ships flapped about in the chilly breeze as some were being pulled to their posts for the night. Considering there was a storm approaching, it made sense. The ocean had been angry for the past two days and was likely to hit land with its dark clouds shortly.

In awe, I peered over the large city from my elevated ground for quite some time. The red brick buildings I had only heard about stood multiple stories with chimes blowing smoke into the evening air. 

Nearly every building had its windows lit up, anticipating the sun would soon leave. It took a lot of work to locate a stone road that wasn’t filled with horses and people. I had never seen such a congregation of individuals in my life that moved around with such a purposeful flow. 

A gust of wind tossed me back into reality as I stumbled from its push.

I stared down at Lockward. “You can do this, Kade. A nightstalker wasn’t the end of you. A touch of social interaction would not kill you.” 

My words didn’t help my confidence, but I had to keep moving. Time was not on my side.  

Onward.      

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