Gawain fell down to his knees next to his beheaded opponent, the ghoul's tainted dark blood oozing slowly out of its neck, sinking into the dirt. He stared down at the now iron black spear that had lost its red vigor which made it stand out during the battle, it was beautiful, it filled him with glee knowing it helped him during this fight. He knew little about his undamaged weapon, no name to it yet. That will have to change. He winced before letting his body fall, stomach hitting the dirt as he let out a sigh of relief.
This wasn't the first victory of his life, he had been in won battles back in life and in Lament. Not once has it ever felt this good, like he had managed to defeat a Leviathan in it's home. He had a sense of pride and satisfaction that his body has never felt, exhaustion alien to him since his unlife. It felt good. He was beginning to laugh uncontrollably, something about cheating death with your own hands felt so lovely. He was nervous, happy, proud and relieved all at once. Rolling onto his back, he attempted to rise to his feet, only managing after a couple of stumbles.
He could feel a few wounds still festering, he hadn't taken enough blood to heal everything but enough to regain his strength. He'll let the rest of them heal on their own, they would eventually. His ribs were the most prominent pain, he reached over to his side and pressed against it. He winced. "Ouch." He didn't expect it to hurt that bad, Zelim really had done a number on him.
He looked down at the sword that his instructor had used against him, picking it up. "I really need to get better with this thing, a spear is no good in close spaces. Especially not with Percival's style." Gawain said to himself, he had to become stronger. Zelim wouldn't have given his brother this much trouble.
He reached out for his spear and it moved slowly into his grasp, there was no urgency like when he first called to it. He dropped his Zelim's sword picking his own. It was battered, there were chips and dents all along the blade from the supernatural fight it had endured. He'll need to tend to it or gain a new one. Sheathing it. He began walking out of the cemetery using the spear as a walking stick.
How long has it been since they've been here? The sun must be rising already. It's been at least a few hours, if Lavia got the spell undone while he was still outside it would not end well for him. That sparked a sense of urgency for the injured night-walker. He needed to find this witch's home and make sure his charge hadn't died yet.
Gawain could feel snowfall upon him, the cold didn't affect him as the heat did. He wouldn't shiver, get sick or be slowed by the temperature. The pale gold eyes turned to look up at the sky, only seeing the moon with no clouds accompanying it.
"We're trapped in a bubble of eternal night." He felt so free and contained all at once. The burning rays of the sun didn't threaten him here, had he the same mindset as Zelim. This would have been a small oasis.
He stumbled through the town, attempting to search for a dying oak. He knew the dravian could handle himself, but the more thought he put into this, the graver the situation he imagined her in. They had no defenses against a witch, his mage vision wasn't something he had learned to focus yet. Gawain wasn't sure how well he'd handle a battle harden magic-user.
"Lavia!" He yelled out, at every turn. The battle couldn't have lasted that long, his sense of time hasn't been dulled by his immortality yet. He felt as if he could still trust it.
He finally reached home with oak in its yard, it looked no different than the others. No lights shining, stone walls and boarded windows. Corpses too, wait corpses? Gawain focused on the yard, it was riddled with the dead. The door had been bashed down and right in front of it lied a heap of meat and crushed bones. The breeze brought the scent of decay and dried blood filled his nostrils, causing him to recoil at it.
"Ugh, this doesn't smell too good" Gawain wished his senses weren't so enhanced by his vampirism.
"Looks like she was already here." He said as he approached slowly, his spear digging into the ground with every step until he reached the doorway.
He could see inside, but the passageway seemed weird to him. It looked as if it wasn't really there, like a painting. Tempting him to enter, to get lost in it's bland and dark colors. It's darkness meant little to his golden eyes, which kept his vision perfect no matter the amount of lighting. He focused his senses forward, searching for anything. Two heartbeats were found.
Lavia was still alive at least, he couldn't smell blood inside, but he could smell her sweat. It was sweet, smelled better than blood to him. How strange, the dravian's aspects tugged at his very being. The blood compelled him to her.
Gawain let out a sigh. There was no way around this, either she succeeded and he got burnt to a crisp if he waited outside or she failed and died if he didn't go in to aid her.
He had to go in.
The vampire took his first steps forward, entering the home.
Behind him the door disappeared, being replaced by a stone wall. "Dammit," He thought, before looking back down the corridor. There was a table, a couple of unlit candles, chairs and some clothes were thrown around. The walls were drawn on with some cheap paint, it was faded drawings of what seemed like a girl surrounded by people. Some others of the woods, and even of animals like grand lions.
"This is the witch's home? Does she have a child?" He spoke to himself, the house seemed a lot bigger on the inside. Gawain could see the end of the hall, yet he couldn't reach it. It was endless, he wanted to escape yet could not find a way to. Lavia wasn't in this hall, where could she have gone to? He couldn't hear their heartbeats anymore.
Suddenly on his right, there was a stairway leading to a second floor. Golden eyes stared, was this a trap? Did she get as bored as him from treading the same ground? Still, anything could be better than the monotonous trail he was stuck on.
He began walking up the stairs the pain of his wounds causing him to wince. The second floor was nothing but another hall with a plethora of doors, a growl escaped his lips. Gawain was now unlocking doors and pushing them with claws extended, there was still an unnatural silence. His senses gave him nothing but the sound of his own steps.
He was trapped now. Opening, door after door.