Fallen 003: Turned and Tainted

Esteban continued to yap excitedly, but I no longer heeded him. The arcane markings along the tablet’s edge were moving and, here and there, had begun combining to form recognizable letters. 

Keeping my gaze fixed on the artifact, I waited to see what it had to say. After what seemed like entirely too long, the text fully resolved itself, and I scanned through it feverishly. 

Name: Macerio Deville. 

Type: High Gift.

Path: bloodborn bloodsucker. 

Level: none.

Spells: 0. Talents: 7. Traits: 6.

Rocking back on my heels, I smiled. 

The tablet had kept my Talents and Traits hidden. Which was all to the good. If it had displayed those, I would have had no choice but to kill Esteban.

Not even the Gifted who had captured me after my tainting had realized just how touched by Chaos I was. If they had learned the truth, I would’ve been killed outright. Instead, they had opted to keep me imprisoned as a potential test subject.

As for my Path… the tablet’s revelation came as no surprise. I’d know since the day of my turning what I’d become—but only because the God Scales had told me. 

Unfortunately, Scales had not seen fit share any other details about my Path. 

That had not stopped me trying to learn more though. There were whole monasteries full of disciples who dedicated their lives to the study of the Gifted Paths, and I’d even managed to search one before my capture. But sadly, I’d found barely any mention of my Path within its records. And, even after all this time, I had little idea what a bloodborn actually was.

“You’re a High Gift?” Esteban asked incredulously.

Glancing at the count, I noticed his earlier jubilation had fled. In its place, consternation reigned. “Does that surprise you?” 

Not all Talents were equal. Gifted with Talents from the Order sphere—Chaos, in my case—were considered more gifted than those with Talents from the lower spheres.

“It does,” Esteban admitted. “Given how hard pressed your fellows are I would have figured the clergy would be smart enough to hold onto you—” he repressed a shiver as he glanced about the dark prison—“not discard you in this dump. The empire cannot afford to squander its Gift anymore, no matter how tainted.”

I shrugged, having nothing to say to that. I would’ve much preferred remaining amongst the Gifted’s ranks myself, but there was no way that even the most open-minded amongst them would accept me as I was.

“And your Path…” Esteban tugged on one end of his carefully trimmed mustache. “What is that about? I’ve never heard of a bloodborn before.”

“Pay the term no heed. It’s just a fancy word for vampire,” I lied. 

It wasn’t though. While I was ignorant about much of my new existence, I had divined this much: I was both turned and tainted. 

Doubly Cursed. 

The first Curse had transformed me into a vampire, the second had given me my Path, that of a bloodborn. I suspected that both Cursings were inextricably linked. But what I couldn’t say for certain was how. 

Had I become tainted because of my turning? 

Or had I been turned because of my tainting?

Turned, tainted, or both, it didn’t matter to the Gifted, of course. To them it was all one and the same. And I saw no reason to enlighten the count as to the finer points on the subject either.

Esteban’s expression, meanwhile, had turned uncertain. “Are you sure? I thought there was a lot more to the Paths than that.”

My brows rose, although I realized I should not have been surprised by the observation. Based on the breadth of knowledge he’d already displayed, Esteban was no typical unGifted. 

Most people usually made the mistake of assuming one Gifted the same as another. Nothing could be further from the truth. Gifted had their own internal hierarchy and divisions. And Paths were one of the primary means by which Gifted differentiated themselves from each other.

Esteban was correct in thinking there was more to a Path than I was letting on. For one, Paths were instrumental in determining what Talents and spells a Gifted had access to. And for another, they granted a Gifted powerful Traits—physical and magical enhancements that on their own transformed most Gifted into engines of destruction. 

Although in my case, my Traits had done much the opposite. 

“Never mind,” the count said before I could come up with a plausible response. “I’m satisfied that you truly are Gifted, and for now, that is all that matters. I’m certain you will be able to enter the dungeon.”

I folded my arms. “You still haven’t told me anything about this dungeon of yours. For starters, where is it? And what sort of dakkin will I find within?”

The count waved aside my questions. “I will tell you everything you want to know. And all in good time. First, though, you will have to affect your escape.” His gaze darted back to the tablet. “And since you haven’t advanced past level zero yet, that may be more challenging than I anticipated.”

My eyes narrowed. “What do you mean I have to escape? I thought you claimed you could get me out of here.”

Esteban wrangled his hands. “It’s complicated,” he mumbled.

“Do you have a way out or not?” I demanded sharply, beginning to doubt the noble anew.

“I have, I have,” the count said, holding his palms out for patience.

“But?” I asked, knowing there was one. 

“But,” Esteban continued with obvious reluctance, “it’s through the Gifted testing facility.”

I stared at him. The test facilities were where Gifted students undertook their final exams, which occurred during the graduation ceremonies themselves—like the one I’d missed. More importantly, the test facility at Kragnok—the city I was being held in—was almost always in use. 

As the only facility in this barony or any of the neighboring ones, it was always in high demand, be it for actual examinations or training runs. There was no way it wouldn’t be swarming with senior Gifted, disciples, and monsters. 

Venturing within would be a death sentence. 

“It’s not as bad as you think!” Esteban said, correctly interpreting my look.

“You better explain what makes you say that,” I said softly. “And be quick about it.”

“This entire prison level, do you know why it exists?” Esteban asked. Not waiting for my response, he went on quickly. “It’s where the disciples hold their dakkin subjects—you know, the chaos spawn they capture in the dungeons. There are eight sub-sections on this level arranged in a horseshoe configuration. And do you know what lies in the center? The testing facility!” The count gestured vaguely to somewhere behind me. “The door is right there!” 

I didn’t look where he pointed. I knew about the door already. I’d never managed to open it, though, and had just assumed it led to a lower prison level. 

“With all the Gifted on the coast,” the count continued, “the facility is unoccupied, and its exit—entrance rather—has been left unguarded.”

“Unoccupied?” I asked, latching onto that particular fact.

“Well, unoccupied by Gifted,” Esteban temporized. “There are still dakkin inside.”

I felt hope quicken. Trying to make my way through the testing grounds would still be dangerous, but absent the Gifted and the disciples, it wasn’t a sure death sentence. Besides, Esteban’s plan was the only chance of escape that had presented itself in all the time I’d been here, and I was not about to turn him down. “How do I get through the door?”

Extracting a key from his pocket, the count handed it to me. “I’m afraid I don’t have any gear for you. I couldn’t smuggle any past the guards. But there should be equipment caches in the facility. You only have to find them.”

I grimaced. A sword would have been nice, but I would make do without. Wordlessly, I took the key and turned around.

“I’ll meet you on the other side,” Esteban yelled at my receding figure.

Not bothering to do more than nod, I kept walking.

✵ ✵ ✵

I reached the entrance to the testing facility and paused at the door, staring down at the key in my hand. If the count was right, dakkin—mutated Chaos creatures—waited on the other side. I’d trained to fight such monsters for the better part of my life, yet I had never put any of my skills to the test. 

I would today. 

The thought of doing so was both exciting and scary. What if I proved unequal to the challenge? 

Don’t think that. You will do this. Somehow. You have to.

In truth, it was less the thought of facing the monsters without than accepting the monster within that worried me. Once I advanced into the testing facility, I could no longer avoid what I’d become.

To escape the prison and stay free of the Gifted—not just today, but tomorrow, the day after, and the day after that—I would need to employ every resource at my disposal. Not only would I have to accept that I was turned and tainted, but I’d have to exploit every advantage that came with Cursings.

Stepping through the door meant fully embracing my new reality.

Stepping through the door meant accepting I was a vampire. A bloodsucker. A vile and despicable creature hated by the rest of humanity. 

But what other choice was there? To stay in the prison and rot?

No, thank you.

Sighing, I accepted the inevitable. I was what I was, and whatever came next, well… I’d deal with it when the time came. Right now, though, I had to get a move on. 

Sooner or later, someone in authority was going to catch wind of Esteban’s visit, and I wanted to be long gone before that happened. But first I had to do something I’d not bothered doing since my imprisonment: review my Path.

“Scales,” I breathed in the privacy of my mind, “display Path profile.”

The god rarely heeded his Gifted’s requests, but over the centuries, his disciples had discovered that some word combinations would always trigger a response from him. 

Request acknowledged, Gifted. Projecting Path data...

Phantom-like words appeared before my eyes. Floating on unseen currents of air, they were invisible to any but me.

PATH DATA: MACERIO DEVILLE

Type: High Gift. Path: Bloodborn. Race: Vampire.

The path of the bloodborn is a unique one available only to members of the vampire race. Neither dead nor living, yet both, their very existence is a paradox that defies Order’s neat designations. Not unexpectedly, this makes them near-perfect vessels of Chaos.

Level: none. Specialization: none. Tier: Bloodsucker. 

Bloodsuckers are the weakest form of vampires. 

Spells: 0. Talents: 7. Traits: 6.

Known Spells: none.

Available Talents

Learned Talents: none.

Chaos Talents (unlearned): Chaos, Death, Shadow.

Mundane Talents (unlearned): Grace, Guile, Brawn, Perceptiveness.

Traits

blood crazed: a bloodsucker’s body will quickly begin to break down if he does not imbibe fresh blood every 6 hours. The mind is always the first to go.

sun cursed: you cannot bear direct sunlight and will turn to ash if exposed to its touch for more than 3 seconds. 

light afflicted: light in all its forms is harmful to a newborn vampire. The benefits of all your Talents are halved while you are under any form of artificial lighting.

poison immunity: the taint of a vampire’s blood is too strong for any other toxin to take hold.

dark vision: you have perfect night sight.

blood sense: bloodsuckers can sense the heartbeat of any living creature within 50 yards. 

corpse drain: only the body of a freshly slain corpse is capable of mending your wounds. Consume one and you will slowly heal yourself. 

disOrdered: bloodsuckers suffer 5x more damage from Order spells.

chaotic: your Chaos spells are 1.1x more powerful.

I stared hard at the words burned across my vision. None of it was new to me, but the sheer number of traits I possessed still caught me by surprise every time. 

I knew of no other Path with as many starting Traits—a significant number of which were debilitating in nature. But then, vampires were always considered odd.

They were amongst the most powerful of the dakkin—the elder ones at least, the young ones were easy enough to kill—and straddled the boundary between death and life more fully than any other creature on Kel. 

In one sense, I was dead: my heart did not beat. But in another, I was very much alive. The blood in my veins still flowed. I continued to feel pain, and my other organs functioned as normal. The only difference was my source of nourishment. These days I fed on blood, not food. 

The only difference, eh? 

That was not quite true. But there was no harm in pretending otherwise sometimes.

Banishing my musings, I scanned my Traits again. As a newborn vampire I was more vulnerable than I’d ever been as a human, but thankfully, most of my weaknesses would not come into play in the testing facility.  

The damn thing was deep underground, after all. Avoid the light and feed regularly, and I’ll be fine, I reassured myself.

I turned back to the door. “Scales, dismiss Path profile.”

The writing in the air vanished.

Behind me, I sensed the last lingering trace of Esteban disappear, the thud of his heart growing fainter as he ascended the stairs at the section’s other exit and made his way to the level above.

Enough dawdling. 

It was time to move. Inserting the key into the door, I spun open the lock.