Monastery of the Seven Forms, Pharast 02, 4586 AR (part III)

“Holy water?” Lysa could not imagine that such was possible. “But it's just a baby!”

In her arms, Ayalal shuddered with sobs of pain.

"It doesn’t stop it from being inherently evil or…"

"He isn’t evil!" she almost yelled, interrupting the half-demon, which only made the baby start crying even louder. "Oh, I'm sorry, Ay..." she whispered immediately, caressing the top of his head and starting to cradle him. “Everything will be all right, my dear.”

Yudarh smiled to himself, returning to them and holding out a hand with sharp claws that grasped the boy's arm carefully. Lysa looked at him with suspicion.

"I didn’t say he was evil," he remarked, observing the reddish halo that the pale skin exhibited. "Only that there was a possibility. Holy water affects evil beings from other planes as well as the undead. Well, there are spells that detect the evil that a creature can emanate, just as they detect the undead. Your baby is not an undead, unless he disguises it very well. At the moment, I can only recall one thing that he might be – a dhampir.”

Lysa digested the word, continuing to cradle Ayalal.

"Does that mean he's the son of a vampire?"

"It does mean that, and it means it is information you should keep for yourself. There are those who are afraid and hate half-vampires and they would be quite capable of pursuing him. It also means that he should be kept away from holy water and any kind of positive energy. If someday someone wants to use a healing spell on him, do not let them. It could kill him. If necessary, bring him to me.”

The inflammation of the area where the holy water had hurt the skin disappeared after a more prolonged touch of Yudarh.

"And... Does he drink blood?" Lysa’s question was hesitant, not sure if she wanted an answer.

"That's a sensitive issue. They like blood, it is a substance that can cause them addiction, like a drug. But there are those who can withstand it. And, well, there's no harm in drinking blood, from my point of view. It's as bad as eating meat and fish," he added, after noting the girl's frown. "But prejudice will be a cruel knife if he decides to follow that path."

The baby's cry dropped to a subtle, tired sniff. Lysa caressed his face, thinking about all Master Yudarh had told her. She let Ayalal grab her finger and bring it to his mouth to suck on him. Where was the mother of that baby?

"But does that explain why he doesn’t eat?" murmured the young woman.

"No. Dhampirs are a little stronger than a normal baby, but even they die if they do not eat. Leave the baby here and get some milk. Hurry up.”

Lysa blinked. Leave Ayalal there?

“But...”

“Either you go now, or you can go away with your baby. And he will starve to death,” Yudarh said.

She blew her cheeks.

“It's ok. But do not hurt him again.”

“Or...?” He smiled, holding out his arms to the baby.

Lysa grumbled through her teeth, and finally handed him the baby. Despite her grumpiness, she was capable of entrusting him her life. She didn’t believe the Master would harm a child.

Yudarh watched her leave with quick strides, before returning the attention to what he had on his arms. His expression softened as he sat in his armchair, not too close to the fireplace.

"You came to join the band of pariahs, Ayalal," he murmured, examining the little boy face.

Now that he had stopped crying, the baby was watching him with a certain amount of attention, trying to assimilate the new voice and the new contours that were made known to him. Yudarh did a subtle gesture with his hand and whispered three words, allowing a weak spell to touch the child and reveal to him if it really was evil. The small presence didn’t emit any detectable aura. For now, he wouldn’t have to worry.

He sat back in the armchair, pensive. Were there any vampires in the city, perhaps hidden in the darkness of the galleries that were buried in the mountains? He didn’t believe that one had passed under his nose, but caution was never too much. He would investigate whether Ayalal's father would walk there. And if he was...

His red eyes narrowed as the tiefling contemplated the fire.

Monastery of the Seven Forms, Pharast 02, 4586 AR (part II)

“Master Yudarh...”

"How many times have I told you not to come here?" His tone was as hard as his look. In a clawed hand he held a staff which surface was clad in strange black symbols. He always walked with it and Lysa suspected it was magic. In his other hand was a closed bag.

"I know... but I really need your help," the teenager noted, looking down at Ayalal. "I needed you to help me take care of this baby. I'm not sure what to do with him... he does not eat, Master”.

Yudarh took a deep breath. Behind Lysa, the door latch swiveled by itself, unlocking it. He passed near the girl and opened the door, leaving it as it was as he advanced inside. Lysa hurried to follow the tip, before he changed his mind, and walked in, closing the door behind her. As he made his way down a narrow corridor, the lamps hanging from the ceiling lit up, illuminating their passage.

She did not know the house well, but visited it enough times to know that everything could be potentially magical and dangerous, in the words of Master Yudarh himself. They passed by three closed doors, and ended up in what was a mixture of bedroom, living room and kitchen. As soon as he laid a hoof inside the compartment, the fireplace before them crackled and the flames burst from the wooden logs. Yudarh threw the bag into a darker corner and leaned the staff on the wall to undress the black cloak he wore on his shoulders.

Lysa waited in silence, casting a glance at the shelves set on one side, filled with ancient tomes and mysterious flasks. The light of the flames touched them, producing reflections of other colors. She smiled a little. It was just as she remembered, when she had lived there, after Yudarh had found her in the mountains.

"I'm not a healer, do you know that?"

The question caught her attention, causing her to stare at him. A red tail oscillated behind his back. The great majority of the people in the city considered him a demon, and it was indifferent to them that he had never harmed anyone, that he lived in an isolated tunnel, alone with himself, away from trouble. Only his very existence was enough to wish him death. Lysa believed that this was why Yudarh did not want her there, so that they would not see her associated with a creature who was, in fact, a son of some demon.

"But you’re wiser than many," she noted, moving closer. “And more... understanding”.

He sniffed, rolling his eyes.

"The baby, you say he doesn’t eat," he said, going straight to the point. “Where did he come from?”

"He was left at the orphanage's door. I found him two days ago, in the morning," she explained. "I don’t know if he has any disease, but he's rather pale."

Yudarh took him from her arms in a swift movement that made her startle, afraid that Ayalal might get hurt. He walked with him to near the flames, watching him closely. The baby's face twitched a little, keeping his eyes tightly closed, in an effort Lysa probably didn’t notice. Yudarh moved away from the stronger light, noticing the baby’s face relaxing. He laid him on the table, unrolling it from the blanket that protected him from the cold.

"Does he have any marks on his body?" He glanced at Lysa.

"No, just this pallor. That I have noticed”.

“Hm”. Yudath turned away from him and went to one of the shelves with flasks. He looked at them for a moment and took one, uncorking it on the way back. Yudarh poured a single drop over his forefinger.

“What is that?” Lysa murmured.

There was no answer. Yudarh took Ayalal's arm, rolling up the sleeve of his ruffled clothes, and touched his skin with the finger.

Suddenly, a piercing scream of pain cried out from the newborn's throat. Lysa acted on instinct, tearing the baby of the table and hugging him against her as she glared at the half-demon, shocked.

Yudarh sighed and shrugged, corking the bottle again.

"It's painful, but that amount will not kill him. And it was good to have me testing it on purpose, than to be taken by surprise by it," he remarked, putting the flask back to the others. "What's in here is not supposed to be anything... for a normal baby. It’s holy water.”

Yudarh and Lysa, by Aergia

Monastery of the Seven Forms, Pharast 02, 4586 AR

Seated in the kitchen, folded over, with her elbows resting on the knees, Lysa was attempting to contain her frustration as she watched Ohlara, the wet nurse, trying to feed Ayalal. Two whole days had passed and, for some reason, he had refused to drink the milk.

"Maybe it's some illness". Ohlara would not stop repeating that, irritating Lysa until she could no longer listen to it. "It would be best to take him to a healer, try to figure it out. There may be a knot inside him... or the gods prefer that he does not live.

The teenage girl made a grimace that contorted her face, which was already somewhat contorted on one side. When she was a little girl, before entering the orphanage, a burn had marred her skin from the cheek to the brow and had almost blinded her.

“Maybe it's better. Stay with him a little while, please. I'll talk to Mrs. Drane" she said.

*

She left with hurried steps, heading for a small house two streets away. As she approached, she slowed the pace and frowned slightly, unhappy with what she saw. Six people were waiting at the door of the healer. One of them held a cloth around her hand, drenched in blood that was dripping on the floor; another, wan, was coughing, and the sound of her chest was a warning for Lysa to keep at distance; there was also a woman with a baby on her lap, with despair in her eyes.

"What are we going to do, Ay?" she murmured to the little boy, thinking to herself. Ayalal let out an opinionated low grumble. He had not cried again after that first time, not out of hunger, or to change his swaddling clothes, nothing. Maybe he really had an illness. The baby reached out a hand, seeming to want touch her chin. It was incredible how he still had the strength for it. If she had not eaten for two whole days, she would not move. “You're strong, aren’t you? There’s no way you have a disease…”

She lowered her face. When she felt him touch her scar, she remembered someone who might be able to help them.

Lysa turned around, making Ay mutter another grunt and pick up his arm. She moved away from the most populous part of the city, penetrating into less clear streets, where the illumination was worse. The houses were also less, some of them completely empty, abandoned by those who had not been able to live so long under the mountains. She made her way down a flight of stairs that had been carved into the stone itself. The steps stole her breath with their height, and she entered a tunnel leading into a darker area. The everlasting torches, fastened to the walls, were spaced at too wide intervals, creating shadows of irregular movements. They reminded her of creatures waiting to attack her. She swallowed and move forward, clutching the baby.

Further on, the road came to a crossroads. The tunnel on her left side would lead to the surface, but it was a half-forgotten route that probably only the monks took – it was from there that she had come to the city. In front of her was her destination, following the same pattern of light and shadows; but on her right side, a well of darkness was opened in the wall. She shivered. In the orphanage, stories were told of people who had been dragged by monstrous claws to passages like that, that sometimes the whispers of the dead were heard in the air. She wanted to believe that it were all lies that people told children. Furthermore, regular patrols surveyed the unlit parts of the city to make sure no dangerous creatures lurked there. And there was no official record of disappearances or attacks.

She took a deep breath, held her breath, and ran to the other side. Nothing caught her in the way, no sharp-clawed hand out of the blackness. She sighed, a little relieved, and felt at the same time ridiculous that at that age she still paid attention to the silly stories that were told among children.

She continued her way to the end of the tunnel, where the stone formed a house with a low door. Although there was a window next to it, there was no light coming from inside. Lysa hesitated a moment before knocking. She did not get any response. She knocked again, harder. Nothing.

She cursed, frustrated. She could wait for a bit, but she didn’t know when he would return. Or if he was just inside and didn’t want to open the door. Maybe it would be better come back later.

She turned and suddenly realized that she could not see the tunnel in front of her. A black figure blocked her way. She jumped back, squeezing Ayalal against her with too much force. The baby shrieked low, with the abruptness. For a moment, she thought it was a being of darkness that would kill her. She looked up, peering at a red man's face. His hair was as white as snow, but what most drew attention were the two black horns that grew from the forehead and arched back. He stared at her, with two orbs of an intimidating red. He struck a hoof on the floor, making her tremble.