The Bloodsoul's Rebirth (Patreon)

They say that life out in the free towns is hard. Those hard times create strong people. Strong people create good times. Good times create soft people, then those soft people create hard times. 

What a load of bullshit…

Kiran stared out at the ocean, watching the tides roll in. Hard times didn’t create strong people. They just made people miserable. They created a broken, tiny little town, miles south of the City of Sin, where a vampire could assault and break a woman, and there would be no doctor to help her, to grant her the freedom to not bear the son she hated.

A town with only a midwife with barely enough magic to ease the pain of childbirth. 

Oh, sure, they got their glorious freedom. The church of the primes was sure to remind them of that every damn Cretday. How they didn’t have to live under the whims of someone with the power to tear a city apart, and how for all their lack of modern luxuries, at least they didn’t have to ever worry about someone with the power of a god, but no wisdom, to change the rules on a whim. 

They’d even told him to be grateful. That if his mother had been in the territory of the great powers of the world, he wouldn’t exist. 

His hands were balled into fists, and he didn’t even know it. 

What kind of absolutely nonsensical bullshit was that? Maybe not, but did he want to, if he was a powerless speck raised by a mother who spent half their money on cheap booze and barely made rent? 

A kid should be excited for their legacy detection. It was a great time in their life, after all, it would determine their power. The church was quick to remind everyone just how much of their funds were spent on testing people’s legacies, and reminded them to be thankful. 

But he’d get a vampiric legacy. He knew it. He’d have it announced in front of the town, and everyone would go quiet, people would take off their hats, and his mother would say nothing. Then she’d drink herself under the table for a few nights, the anger would set in, and she’d start throwing things. 

As he watched things roll up against the shore, he thought he might see a glint off to the side, where the stones poked out of the sand. 

Even the sand was ugly. It wasn’t some pristine white sand beach. It was dull and gray, with stones mixed in with the sand. 

He sighed as he glanced up at the sun. He really should be going. If he didn’t show up, that would be even more of a shitshow than if he did. She’d given him hell about missing it on his eighteenth, and at times he could still swear that his shoulder ached from where she’d dislocated it. 

He trudged his way into town, passing the wooden buildings, headed to one of the only large stone ones. Out front, the church had set up the elaborate ritual, with the solidified fourth gate knowledge mana piled up in the corner to fuel the spell…

For a moment, Kiran eyed the mana. If he somehow managed to steal that pile, it could pay for his trip all the way to the City of Sin, and probably even for a few weeks at a room there. He could make a new start for himself. 

He dismissed the thought a moment later. There was no way that he’d be able to take it all, and even if he did, he had no way to carry it, let alone hitch a ride out of town. While some of the wandering merchants might not just rob him, plenty would, and the ones that wouldn’t would probably make him return it. 

No, the only way out was through. 

He watched as the minister took to the wooden stage in front of the church and cleared his throat.

“Welcome, welcome! I won’t dally with words for too long, I know that all of you are excited to see your magic and legacies, and how you can contribute to our ever growing family!”

Kiran held in a snort. 

“But first, let me say a quick word of thanks to magic. It’s fourteen arms reach deep into the well of our hearts, to keep us safe from beasts – both the beasts who prowl the forests late at night, who seek to eat, and the far worse threat!”

There was a murmur through the crowd at his words.

“Those beasts in human form, who see us, living in the free wilds and say that it is we who are savages!”

The minister thrust his hand in the air.

“Those beasts who believe that personal power makes a ruler! That see the horrors brought into the world by Nightflock, by the Storm King, by the City of Sin, by Kijani, and forgive them!?”

There was an uproar at that, and the minister lowered his hand, waiting for the crowd to quiet. Once they had, he spoke in a quiet, soft tone. 

“Not us. We will not give up our freedom, not to them. Not to anyone. And so it is with great pride I welcome our next generation of warriors, poets, farmers, and dreamers on stage.”

There was a massive roar of approval on stage, and Kiran shifted uncomfortably.

“Bethany Bridges!” the minister called out. The girl walked forwards, standing in the center of the ritual circle. Light surged through the spells as formulae spun and scanned, and a moment later, the minister announced the results.

“Physical, with a legacy that allows livestock she raises to be healthier than normal! A wonderful farmer – we can show you some tilling spells, if you wish?” 

The line continued on for some time, before…

“Kiran Khatri!” 

Kiran slogged up on stage and watched the light spin around him. 

“Abnegation!” the minister cried out, and for just a second, for the merest moment in time, Kiran allowed himself to hope. 

“and… Ah. Something else? One moment…”

The minister glanced at the readouts of the spell. Kiran thought they looked like a bunch of dots and squiggly lines, but apparently the minister was able to get information.

“Ren-Scion Dhampir. Your second mana gate is that of a Ren Vampire. The power of Names flows from your lips, and you have a perfect name recall.” 

The minister’s face screwed up in disgust. It was only there for a second, but Kirab saw it. Then the minster’s face shifted into a smooth mask, and he patted Kiran on the shoulder.

“Bad luck, but hey, at least you’ll never forget someone’s name, aye? We can get you some basic wards, perhaps?”

Kiran just mumbled a ‘yeah’ and shuffled off the stage. He didn’t go to his mother, though, seeing the look of revulsion plain on her face. 

The worst part was he couldn’t blame her. 

But with nothing left to do, he shuffled through town for a while. He bought a pint of cider, even though he didn’t really have the money for it, and then made his way down to the beach.

He stayed there for a long time, staring out at the ugly gray ocean and rocks, and as the sun began to set over the waves, a glare caught off the rocks and into his eye. 

He shifted, then glanced over. The rocks weren’t gold, and the light had been. It might have been the sun, but he’d seen something this morning as well…

Seeing nothing, he clambered off the boulder he was sprawled on and started to run his fingers through the sand near where the glare had come from. If someone had dropped something, maybe he could sell it? 

His fingers snagged on something buried, and he pulled it up, out of the sand, then rinsed it in the cold gray water. 

It was an earring, with a simple stud to put in, but a golden dangling chain that fell for two inches, then clasped around a briolette cut ruby. 

A huge ruby at that. It was almost as long as the gold chain, and thick too. It had to be worth… 

Kiran didn’t even know. A lot, certainly. 

Had his fortune finally turned around? 

He allowed himself to grin, for just a moment, then turned to see if the store was still open.

The moment he was away from the water and rocks, a massive, jerking pain shot through his body as his soul was shoved to the side. He spasmed and nearly fell over, but barely caught himself on a tree.

Something slithered out of the earring, and into his body. It poured into him, and pressed his soul aside, crushing it down like trying to fit two loaves of bread into one bread box. 

“Hah, of course,” a dry, crackling voice said. It had the texture of old leather, tough but broken, and strangely, it rang only in his head.

“The first body I get picked up by since primes know how long, and of course it’s a boy. Tell me, child. What year is it?” 

“It’s, uh… Do you want it in Orthodox or Mossford?” Kiran asked aloud.

“Keep your voice down,” the voice in his head snapped at him. “And oxford, obviously. What does a half-sized island on the other side of the world have to do with anything?”

“It’s the dominant power..?” Kiran thought, mentally noting the year, and where they were on a map. “Other than the City of Sin, but the minister says that’s just where Mossford’s elite go to party.”

There was a long, long stretch of silence. 

“Miss?” Kiran thought.

“Satya,” she responded. “And… Shit. I knew I’d run afoul of fortune, but… not like this. Over a hundred and twenty years, gone. Trapped in an earring on the sea floor with nothing but fish for company…”

Her mental ‘voice’ was so lost and confused that Kiran couldn’t help but pity her.

Even if some days he’d prefer the bottom of the sea to here.

“Bah, what nonsense,” Satya thought at him. “You’ve barely formed your magic. Not even opened it, why…”

She poked his soul, and then at his brain. For a moment that felt like forever, he watched his memories flood out. 

The good moments, where his mother bothered to teach him the ungated spell for light. 

And all the bad ones. Him crawling under his bed to hide from her drunken stupor. Her punching him hard enough to give him a black eye for ‘being aggressive like him’. The time she’d thrown a bottle at his back, but it had bounced off a wall and knocked him over, and the broken glass had cut his legs and back. 

More and more and more.

And he saw Satya’s life in exchange. She had many good times – she’d had an excellent schooling in Tianzhu, the best a woman from two hundred years ago could have expected. 

She’d been lauded as a magical prodigy, but rather than push that, her own parents had used it to negotiate for higher and higher dowries. 

She’d wound up married to a lesser prince, but when she broke through to Arcanist, he’d cut off all magical resources, fearful she’d outgrow him. He’d forced her to take an ascension elixir, and only cunning mental illusions had let her escspe the fate.

So she’d turned to darker sources. In the middle of the night, she’d slipped out of the palace to learn the arts of the monsters who were happy to teach her. 

The Acheri, spirits of those abused and left to die. 

The Pishacha, ghouls who fed on human flesh. 

The Rakshasi, maneating spirits with magic galore.

And the vampires. Each of the nine clans had a hold somewhere in Tianzhu, and she had found them all, plying their secrets bit by bit. 

And when she’d finished and formed her soul-jewel, she’d killed her horrid husband, then herself.

From there she passed from hand to hand, possessing people and living the raucous life of a dark Occultist.

Until one day she was on a boat, and the ward generators broke. The ship sank, and she was left alone.

Alone.

Alone.

That was where she’d come to slowly regret her actions. Not all of them – her husband had earned his death in her eyes.

But the eighty years possessing innocents and using their bodies? Picking them up and tossing them aside as she wished? That was cruel, and by her estimation, the cause of the boat sinking

Kiran snapped back to himself, and sucked in a deep, rattling breath. He felt Satya doing much the same, and then she spoke. 

“You haven’t had it easy, child. But I plan to change. I broke my title when I was down there, and I need a new one. I’ll teach you. At least until then. I know a few tricks with vampire mana, after all. May I?” 

He sensed her slipping into command of the body, and allowed it. She snapped her fingers, and a third gate spell formed instantly.

Sanguine Thorns. 

Thin strands of blood flowed from Kiran’s fingers and wove through the air, mixing with magic and wrapping around a tree. A moment later, sharp power exploded out from the ribbons, impaling and shattering the trunk. 

Kiran found himself back in control, and he had to stop himself from smiling. 

A path to self-determination was all he’d ever wanted or needed. 

Satya’s spirit couldn’t physically smile, but she felt it all the same. 

A chance to start anew, and use her power for a more refined purpose was all she’d wanted. 

And now, both had a chance.