That Deathless Death

[TheArcaneWeirdo]

Prolouge

"So how do you feel?" Arthur asked as we walked out of my school. I took a deep breath of sea air as I looked at the sun setting over Pernault Bay, and thought at least one good thing came out of my misadventure: I was free, and among friends. I had no right to enjoy this new liberty: I might be the only person in this story for which it ended well.
"Weary," I admitted. "But it is the normal kind of weariness, the one caused by long hours of studying. The other kind ~ that horrible fatigue caused by her ~ had faded almost entirely."
"Good." He nodded. "Have you been taking that iron supplementing potion I gave you?"
I twisted my face in digust. "I... I tried to, for a few days, but... It tastes like blood!"
"That's the point, kiddo! Your body needs to create more ~ " He said something that sounded like a type of goblin. "I understand, though. Hard memories. Happens to everyone."
Does it, though? How many people really have the kind of memories I was struggling with? I decided that no matter how many, it's too much.
"Well, enough about me. How are you?"
"Fine now, I guess." He shrugged. "I was very worried over the past few week, with what happened to Alanik..."
"Right, Alanik! How's he?" I asked, afraid of the answer.
"Getting better. The doctors say he'd be out of the hospital in a few weeks." He sighed. "They can't do much about his spine, though."
Regret flodded me.
"A dozen girls died and a good man ~ elf ~ will probably never walk again." I sighed. "And all because I had the brains of a caliban."
"Hey, some of my best friends are calibans!" Arthur protested. "And you weren't foolish, Liv. Well, maybe a little, but no more than I'd expect from any youth in your situation to be. Nik bears no hard feelings toward you, nor do I. Don't beat yourself for naught."
"Okay." I looked down awkwardly, and tried to think of a way to change subject. "So... How is your relationship going?"
"Surprisingly well." He blushed. "All this time, I thought Nik deserves better than me. He's so much smarter, and braver, and... Well, nothing good comes out of a human and an elf falling in love, right? We'd have a few decades together at best, and then I'll die and he'll have to live for centuries with a broken heart. But... Now I realise something: None of us has eternity. None of us knows how much time they have left. We treat time like we can plan it ahead, we make assumptions, but I mean... All of this ~ " He gestured at the street around us. " ~ could fall apart tomorrow. We haven't a clue how much time we have together. So what's the point in wasting it pushing eachother away?"
I nodded. At least someone has luck in matters of the heart. "So... Are you going to propose him?"
He chuckled, and showed me a silver ring inscribed with peculiar, vein~like letters whose meaning I knew not. "I said 'yes' yesternight."
I think people heard my screams of joy even in the unknown worlds beyond the mists.

We walked for a while more. I struggled to keep up with the man. Maybe it was simply my shorter legs, but I suspected three months ago this wouldn't have been a problem. The mark Metaris had left on my body and mind was fading, but far more slowly than I would have liked. I started fearing it would never fully leave me.
"None of us has eternity." I repeated Arthur's words. "Except for her. She's still out there. She'd been doing this for over a century. She must be in some other town now, looking for her next victim..."
"Creatures like her can be killed, Liv." He held her hand reassuringly. "Maybe not by us, but I know some folks with more experience in that area."
"I know, I met one." I sighed. "He scared me even more than she did. You can't help people who think you're the problem, and she is an expert in making you feel like everyone is the problem except for her."
"So it's a problem of awareness." He pointed out.
"Yes," I nodded. "Awareness of the difference between someone who is demonised and someone who is really a demon. Well, undead. Whatever."
His eyes suddenly lit.
"What?" I raised an eyebrow.
"You must have already heard of my little True Crime series." He explained. "Most of the stories are about our successes. But once in a while I write about a case we're still stuck with, a mystery even Alanik couldn't figure out on his own. We always have to be careful about it ~ to not expose detail that could blow up cover stories or risk the innocent ~ but when done right, it's like a miracle: people write back with leads, theories, stuff we could never know on our own. A lot of poeple make stuff up, but when we filter that out, there's always someone who knows something."
"So... Are you asking for my permission to do such thing with her case?" I asked.
He nodded. "But I'd like a little more than a permission. You see, I know only the last few chapters of this story. You know more. Would you help me write it?"
I considered the offer carefully.
"I don't want to start a 'witch hunt' where every girl who slightly matches the description can get staked." I shrugged. "Nor would I want your readers to put themselves at risk."
"That's the reason I want your report, to get the details right." He anwered. "And don't you think more people will be at risk if we don't even try to warn the public?"
I thought some more, and admitted the real reason I was reluctant to tell my story: This meant tickling the sleeping dragon, invoking memories that were better left buried, diving back into the darkness I was trying to run away from.
But... Maybe I need to face that darkness.
Maybe if I don't, I'll never feel truly in the light.
"Alright." I braced myself, trying to find words to describe the scenes in my head. "I'd warn the public of the first person who ever gave me love... And took my blood in return."