The following morning, the inn awoke to the aroma of freshly baked bread and the lively murmur of conversations drifting from the common room.
Saphryn descended the stairs with the book the old bookseller had given him tucked beneath his arm.
Edric was already seated at a table, finishing his breakfast.
When he saw him, he raised a hand.
"Good morning, Saphryn."
"Good morning."
A few moments later, Lyra arrived carrying three cups of tea.
"My father insisted on waiting for you."
Edric smiled.
"A meal always tastes better with company."
Saphryn took a seat.
As they ate, the conversation drifted toward Valdoren's various districts and the places worth visiting.
At one point, Lyra rested an elbow on the table.
"May I ask you something?"
"Of course."
She studied him for a few moments before speaking.
"Where did you get that sword?"
Saphryn lowered his gaze to the silver hilt.
"It once belonged to someone who meant a great deal to me."
Lyra nodded respectfully.
She asked nothing more.
Just then, Garen, the innkeeper, set a small dish of butter on the table.
"Careful. It's still warm."
As he did, Saphryn looked up ever so slightly.
It was only the smallest of movements.
But it was enough.
Lyra caught sight of his fangs.
For the briefest instant, her expression changed.
She said nothing.
She simply continued eating.
Yet every so often, she found herself stealing another discreet glance in his direction.
---
Later that morning, the three of them set out to explore part of the city.
Edric needed to purchase a few tools before returning to his village, and Lyra insisted on accompanying him.
Saphryn decided to walk with them.
As they crossed one of the city's squares, a group of children ran past, laughing as they dueled with wooden swords.
One of them pointed at Saphryn's weapon.
"Your sword is beautiful!"
A faint smile touched Saphryn's lips.
"Thank you."
The boy dashed off after his friends.
Lyra walked a few paces behind Saphryn.
At last, she spoke in a quiet voice.
"Can I ask you something... a little strange?"
Saphryn glanced back.
"Go ahead."
She hesitated for several seconds.
"...Has anyone ever told you that you look like a vampire?"
Edric came to an abrupt stop.
He looked at Saphryn as well.
Saphryn remained silent for a moment.
Then, with complete calm, he answered.
"Yes."
Lyra looked slightly embarrassed.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you."
"You didn't."
She let out a quiet sigh of relief.
"It's just... your eyes... and..."
Saphryn finished the sentence for her.
"My fangs."
Lyra nodded slowly.
Edric folded his arms.
"I noticed them this morning, too."
A brief silence followed.
Then Edric chuckled.
"Although, if you really were a vampire, you wouldn't be walking beneath the sun with a silver sword hanging from your belt."
Lyra smiled as well.
"That's true."
For a moment, Saphryn watched the sunlight glimmer across the silver blade.
Then he looked back at them.
"Appearances can be deceiving."
Edric nodded.
"They often are."
The conversation ended there.
Neither of them pressed the matter any further.
Yet as they resumed their walk, Lyra couldn't stop thinking about it.
The fangs were real.
So was his appearance.
And yet...
The sunlight bathed Saphryn's face without causing him the slightest harm.
The silver sword still rested peacefully at his side.
To anyone in Valdoren, there was only one logical conclusion.
He couldn't possibly be a vampire.
Even if, for a fleeting moment, the possibility had seemed unmistakably obvious.
---
The sun was already high overhead when they left the main square.
Edric had finished nearly all of his shopping and now carried a small wooden box filled with tools beneath one arm.
As they walked, a bell rang several times from the western district.
It wasn't an alarm.
It was a summons.
Within moments, mercenaries began appearing from every direction, all heading the same way.
Some wore heavy armor.
Others carried bows or staves.
Lyra watched the growing crowd with curiosity.
"Why is everyone going over there?"
Edric stopped one of the passing mercenaries.
"Excuse me. What's happening?"
The man kept walking without slowing.
"A new contract. It must be important if they rang the guild bell."
When he disappeared into the crowd, Lyra looked at Saphryn.
"Shall we go?"
Saphryn watched the steady stream of mercenaries converging on the same destination.
"If you're curious."
Edric smiled.
"I'll admit it... I am."
The three of them made their way to the Mercenaries' Guild.
The training yard was far more crowded than it had been the previous day.
Dozens of mercenaries stood talking while waiting before a notice board hidden beneath a heavy cloth.
Their guild emblems gleamed in different metals.
Bronze.
Iron.
Steel.
Silver.
And only a handful wore the emblem of Gold.
Saphryn studied them with quiet interest.
Not because of the ranks themselves.
But because they reflected the vast difference in experience between those who bore them.
Just then, Elena appeared.
She wore the same armor as the day before, though now a gray cloak rested across her shoulders.
When she recognized Saphryn, she smiled.
"I wondered if I'd see you here."
"I'm only watching."
She laughed softly.
"That's exactly what you said yesterday."
Edric spoke up.
"Is this contract really that important?"
Elena nodded.
"It seems so. The Guildmaster himself is making the announcement."
A few seconds later, a gray-bearded man stepped onto the guild's balcony.
The murmuring ceased almost instantly.
He unfurled a scroll.
"Listen carefully."
Silence settled over the courtyard.
"Yesterday, a merchant caravan traveling north was attacked."
People immediately began exchanging uneasy glances.
"The survivors insist that the attackers were neither bandits... nor beasts."
The entire courtyard fell still.
The Guildmaster continued.
"According to their testimony..."
He paused.
"...the attackers were vampires."
A wave of murmurs swept through the crowd.
Even several Gold-ranked mercenaries frowned.
Vampire hunts were exceedingly rare.
Not because vampires didn't exist.
But because very few people survived them.
The Guildmaster raised a hand, restoring silence.
"This is not a hunting mission."
"Your task is to escort the next caravan along the same route and determine whether the threat remains."
Many of the mercenaries breathed a sigh of relief.
Others looked almost disappointed.
Elena folded her arms.
"That sounds easier than hunting them."
Beside her, a Gold-ranked mercenary slowly shook his head.
"No."
She turned toward him.
"Why not?"
The man never took his eyes off the balcony.
"Because if they truly are vampires..."
His voice grew noticeably more serious.
"...they'll know we're coming."
Saphryn remained silent.
It wasn't the word vampires that had caught his attention.
It was something else.
A caravan.
Attacked.
But not completely destroyed.
That meant the attackers had deliberately allowed survivors to escape.
And vampires experienced enough to ambush a caravan were unlikely to make such a mistake.
Either the survivors had escaped through sheer luck...
Or someone had wanted the news to reach Valdoren.
Saphryn lifted his gaze toward the Guildmaster.
For the first time since arriving in the city, he felt that two seemingly unrelated events were beginning to converge.
The murder of the nobleman.
And the attack on the caravan.
Perhaps they did not share the same cause.
But both had been carried out with far too much precision to be dismissed as mere coincidence.