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Chapter 12 - Ela The broken soul

The young girl with Aerovind stopped walking abruptly, her expression going blank as if she had shut down. With a weary sigh, Aerovind lifted her onto his shoulder, carrying her with ease as they continued.

The sun crept over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink.

 Zellrid trudged forward, his feet heavy with the weight of his actions. Aerovind walked beside him, the unconscious Ela perched on his shoulder.

"Typhon," Aerovind called out, his voice tinged with its usual casual arrogance. "Time for a nap, big guy."

The massive dragon growled in acknowledgment. 

In a flash of crimson light, Typhon's form dissolved, flowing into the red blade at Aerovind's hip.

 Zellrid barely spared a glance at the spectacle.

As they continued their journey, Zellrid's eye fell on the small figure draped over Aerovind's shoulder. 

"The girl," he grunted, his voice low and gravelly. "What's wrong with her?"

Aerovind adjusted Ela's position, his face unusually somber.

 "Ah, our little sleeping beauty here? Her soul's broken, I'm afraid. Courtesy of our mutual acquaintance, Beelzebub.

 Nasty business from about six years back."

Zellrid grunted, his brow furrowing. "Beelzebub. The Lord of Flies."

"The very same," Aerovind confirmed, his typical smirk returning. "Quite the party animal, that one. Though his idea of a party usually involves more screaming and less cake."

Zellrid's hand instinctively tightened on the hilt of his sword. "You seem to know a lot about him."

Aerovind chuckled, the sound lacking its usual mirth. "Let's just say we've crossed paths a time or two. 

But that's a story for another time, preferably over a strong drink or ten."

They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds the crunch of gravel beneath their feet and the occasional rustling of wind through the trees.

 Zellrid's mind wandered, replaying the events of the night. The fear in Lira's eyes, the sickening crack of Joseph's neck, the child's cry of "monster" 

 it all swirled in his thoughts, a maelstrom of guilt and self-loathing.

"You're brooding again," Aerovind observed, breaking the silence. "It's a good look on you, very mysterious. The ladies love a tortured soul."

Zellrid shot him a withering glare. "Not in the mood."

Aerovind raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. "Are you ever? Come on, big guy.

 Life's too short for all this doom and gloom. Well, maybe not for me, but you get the idea."

"Hm," was Zellrid's only response, his eye fixed on the road ahead.

As they crested a hill, a small town came into view in the distance. 

Aerovind's eyes lit up at the sight. "Ah, civilization! Or at least, what passes for it around here. What do you say we hire a carriage, give those brooding feet of yours a rest?"

Zellrid grunted noncommittally.

"I'll take that as a resounding yes," Aerovind grinned. "Besides, I know just where we should go next.

 How about a little field trip to your old stomping grounds? The Nightstalker school should be lovely this time of year."

This caught Zellrid's attention. His eye narrowed as he turned to face Aerovind. "Why?"

Aerovind's grin turned mischievous. "Oh, you know, thought we'd pop in for tea, maybe do a little sparring. Plus, I hear your old pal Ordeon's been asking about you.

Figured it might be nice to catch up, reminisce about the good old days of monster hunting and brooding competitions."

Zellrid's jaw clenched at the mention of Ordeon. Memories of their shared past, of grueling training and blood-soaked battles, flashed through his mind. "Ordeon and I... we're not exactly on speaking terms."

"All the more reason to pay him a visit," Aerovind countered, his tone light but his eyes sharp. "Besides, with all that's brewing, you might find you need some old friends at your back."

As they approached the town, the sounds of daily life began to filter through the air.

 The clang of a blacksmith's hammer, the chatter of market-goers, the laughter of children all of it a contrast to the devastation they'd left behind.

"Well then," Aerovind said, clapping Zellrid on the shoulder, "shall we find ourselves a carriage? I don't know about you, but I could use a break from all this walking. It's hell on my stylish boots."

Zellrid grunted, shrugging off Aerovind's hand. "Fine. But I choose the driver."

Aerovind's eyebrows shot up in mock surprise. "He speaks! And here I thought I was traveling with a particularly grumpy dumb troll. 

Alright, oh picky one, you can choose our chauffeur. Just try not to scare them off with that winning personality of yours."

Aerovind's demeanor shifted abruptly, his usual smirk fading into a look of grave seriousness. He gently lifted Ela's sleeping form from his shoulder and placed her in Zellrid's arms.

"Take care of her," Aerovind said, his yellow eyes boring into Zellrid's single one. "I'm trusting you with this, big guy. Don't make me regret it."

Zellrid grunted, but his grip on Ela was surprisingly gentle. "Where are you going?"

"To run an errand," Aerovind replied cryptically. "Stay here. I won't be long."

With that, Aerovind strode into the town, his brown coat billowing behind him. The townspeople stopped and stared, their eyes drawn to his unusual yellow eyes and the ornate blade at his hip. Whispers followed in his wake, a mix of fear and curiosity.

"Look at his eyes," a woman hissed to her companion. "They're like a cat's!"

"Shh!" her friend replied. "He might hear you. Gods know what he's capable of."

A group of children, braver than their elders, ran up to Aerovind. "Mister! Mister!" one called out. "Are you a wizard?"

Aerovind chuckled, kneeling down to their level. "Something like that, kid. Now run along, before your parents have a fit."

He continued on, approaching a fruit vendor's stall. His gaze fell on a particularly ripe apple. "How much?" he asked, reaching for the fruit.

The vendor's face contorted in disgust. "We don't serve your kind here, yellow-eyes. Take your demon blood elsewhere."

Aerovind paused, his hand hovering over the apple. Slowly, he turned to face the vendor, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "My kind?" he repeated, his voice deceptively soft. "And what kind would that be, exactly?"

The vendor spat on the ground. "Freaks. Monsters. Take your pick."

A cold smile spread across Aerovind's face. "Oh, my friend," he said, leaning in close, "you have no idea what a real monster looks like."

In a blur of motion, Aerovind's blade was in his hand. With a single, fluid movement, he sliced through the supports of the vendor's carriage. The structure groaned, then collapsed in a shower of splintered wood and crushed fruit.

The vendor stumbled back, eyes wide with terror. "My livelihood!" he cried. "You've ruined me!"

Aerovind calmly picked up an apple from the wreckage, polishing it on his sleeve. "Next time," he said, taking a bite of the apple, "try a little hospitality. It's good for business."

He turned and walked away, stepping over the destruction he'd wrought with casual grace. The townspeople quickly cleared a path, their earlier curiosity replaced by naked fear.

"Did you see that?" a man whispered. "He destroyed that cart like it was nothing!"

"Quiet, fool!" his wife hissed. "Do you want to be next?"

Aerovind made his way to a dark alley, shrouded in shadows even in the bright morning light.

 He finished his apple, tossing the core aside as he called out, "You can stop hiding now.

 I'm flattered by the effort you've made to track me, but really, it's getting a bit tedious."

A figure emerged from the shadows, moving with inhuman grace.

 The man was strikingly handsome, with pale skin that seemed to glow in the dim light. 

His smile was charming, but there was a manic edge to it that hinted at barely contained madness.

"Well, well," the man said, his voice silky smooth. "The great Aerovind. I must say, you're even more impressive in person."

Aerovind raised an eyebrow. "Flattery will get you everywhere," he quipped. 

"But let's cut to the chase, shall we? You've gone to quite some trouble to find me. The question is, why?"

The vampire's smile widened, revealing the tips of his fangs. "Oh, I think you know why.

 Word travels fast in our circles, Aerovind. Especially when it concerns someone of your... unique talents."

Aerovind's eyes narrowed. "And how, pray tell, did you deduce my nature? I don't recall handing out business cards."

The vampire chuckled, a sound that sent chills down the spine. "Your scent, my dear Aerovind. 

It's... intoxicating. A mix of power and something else. Something old. Very old."

"Perceptive," Aerovind conceded. "But you still haven't answered my question. What do you want?"

The vampire's expression turned serious. "An alliance. The winds are changing, Aerovind. 

Beelzebub's influence grows by the day. We need someone of your caliber on our side."

Aerovind's face remained impassive. "And who exactly is 'we'?"

"The Crimson Court, of course," the vampire replied, as if it should have been obvious. 

"We've been watching you for some time. Your power, your connections... they could be invaluable in the coming conflict."

Aerovind was silent for a moment, his yellow eyes studying the vampire intently. Then, without warning, he burst into laughter. 

"Oh, that's rich," he said, wiping a tear from his eye. "The Crimson Court, what's next teaching demons how to shake their booty?

Tell me, does Lilith still fancy herself the puppet master of the world."

The vampire's smile faltered. "You'd do well not to mock the Countess, Aerovind. Her reach is long, and her memory longer."

Aerovind's laughter died away, replaced by a cold, hard stare. 

"Listen closely, because I'm only going to say this once.

 I'm not interested in your petty power plays.

 I have my own agenda, and it doesn't involve being anyone's pawn not Beelzebub's, and certainly not Lilith's."

He stepped forward, and despite being shorter than the vampire, seemed to loom over him.

 "Now, run back to your mistress and give her a message from me. Stay out of my way, or I'll show her exactly why the old ones fear my name."

The vampire's composure cracked, fear flickering in his eyes. Without another word, he melted back into the shadows, leaving Aerovind alone in the alley.

Aerovind sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Well," he muttered to himself, "so much for a quiet trip to the countryside." 

As he made his way back to Zellrid and Ela, he overheard more whispers from the townsfolk.

"He's heading back to that one-eyed brute," an old man observed.

"And they've got a child with them," a woman added, her voice laced with concern. "Gods know what they're gonna do to the poor girl."