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“It’s…” Serena began to say, before she abruptly tore off her mask and coughed profusely into her hand. Veronica rushed to her side and watched her closely, steadying her with a mixture of worry and pity that implied this wasn’t exactly new to either of them.

“I’d guess some kind of old hunter magic,” Veronica said, half-glancing to Tirnea. “I’m not exactly familiar with their enchanting, but…” Serena held her hand in front of her student, commanding her to stop. She hacked one last time and stared at the ash and soot in her hand before promptly wiping it off on the side of the cart.

“You have behaved rashly,” Serena said dryly. “If he was not so busy toying with you, you would be dead.” She flicked the blood off of her naginata, and Veronica nodded hesitantly.

“But she is right.” Serena said to Tirnea. “That was from Tour de Rouge, at least. It sounds similar to what little I have heard of the magic used by the aristocracy. As for the blood…” She paused, thinking of how best to phrase it to a Pinuran.

“You do not know of them,” Serena asked. “Do you? The sun shines so strong across Pinura, I have heard, with little room for shade. On Abadden, there are tales of certain undead. Ones who hide from the sunlight and hunt in the moonlight, drinking the blood of mortals to preserve their youth and beauty. They are little more than memory now, but here, they are known as vampires. Do not take them lightly.” Veronica looked at Serena expectantly.

“So where do we go from here?” The knight asked. Her teacher did not hesitate to respond.

“To the Twilight Fields.” The warrior answered. “For now, that man is our only lead. Do you still wish to join us, Tirnea?”