It took just one day for Sylene to regret this trip.
Clutching his stomach, he lurched forward and gripped a pine tree tightly, vomiting everything he had eaten. A wave of regret crashed over him. The breakfast had been delicious—something he had wanted to keep down, savor slowly. But the body had other plans. The nausea was relentless.
Had Rosencraft's experiments made him more susceptible to this, or was it just him? Usually, it only took a day to adapt… so hopefully, by tomorrow, things would settle.
"Boy, you're still at it? At this rate, we're going to be late."
Bire, one of the mercenaries in Bryent's group, sighed as he eyed Sylene, who was slumped against a pine tree. Their carriage had stopped for the third time in just four hours. The snow wasn't heavy, but the cold still bit at his skin. The carriage owner's worker, who was driving the carriage, looked at Sylene annoyedly and sighed on the driver's seat — even the horses seemed to be looking at Sylene judgingly.
Sylene wished the chill would help. Usually, the cold made him hungrier, but right now, even the thought of food churned his stomach. He couldn't bring himself to eat those precious strips of bacon or dried meat if he was just going to throw them up again. They were too delicious to be wasted like that…
"Sorry. I'll be better tomorrow, I promise," he muttered.
Michel, the youngest looking mercenary in this group clicked his tongue, a flicker of disgust crossing his face as he glanced at the bile on the snow. "Kid, why don't you take some medicine? You should have some if you knew you had this problem."
"What, never been on a carriage before? You only ride automobiles?" Bire scoffed.
Sylene bit his lip, but they were right. He had never ridden in a carriage before—nor in an automobile. He had read about them, of course, just as he had read about countless other things.
The scientists in the lab had often boasted about their latest models, flaunting their advancements in technology. But he had never been allowed to travel far—just to the surrounding forests, always on foot. His body was fast and sturdy. He had thought that would be enough.
The boy hadn't expected the carriage ride to be so bumpy. The idea of automobiles didn't excite him much either. Would they feel the same? Or would a train be better? A train sounded like a smoother ride, but he needed an ID to buy a ticket… He couldn't risk his thumb falling off again from frostbite by hitchhiking like before.
Without an ID, his only option was sneaking onto a cargo train again. Passenger trains were checked—he had been lucky last time when the military inspecting the goods had arrived late.
This was becoming complicated. Should he disguise himself as a hybrid slave? They didn't have IDs…
Either way, at this rate, his guilt weighed heavier than his nausea. He had delayed their journey, made their trip more troublesome. They were still close to the city, where other carriages passed occasionally, but by nightfall, they would be far beyond its borders. He needed to recover before then.
Sylene wanted to be in his best condition in case of unexpected situations—like some wild animals or...ghouls.
The memory of his first combat test in the lab clawed at the edges of his mind—the sharp, vivid pain when his hand was severed. He had been eight years old, and it was his first battle experience. The agony of it still lingered, even now.
Sure, he could heal faster than others, but that didn't mean it hurt any less.
Vampires were strong, their physiques nearly unbreakable. But humans had their own strengths—cutting-edge technology and a mass of people. Vampires had trouble producing their own kin, so their number is not that much compared with human population.
While vampires had their own advancements and setbacks, humanity was on another level. There had even been a human scientist who dedicated her entire life to exterminating vampires. She had no magic, no special abilities—only a grudge of passing loved ones so deep it drove her to develop weapons designed solely to destroy them.
And because of people like her, humanity, once quietly oppressed by vampires, had slowly begun to fight back. Their technology gave them chance to have the same standing in the battlefield. The bloodsucking creatures had been forced to retreat, securing their own territory.
And so, the peace treaty was born.
But peace had never meant equality.
The vampires lived long lives. Their current king had reigned for 300 years, carrying with him a vast history and an endless supply of knowledge. Over time, their genetic modifications had become a twisted form of entertainment. Their military power remained as strong as ever, and while the border city was often unsafe, in the last twenty-thirty years, the vampires had turned quiet.
They no longer bothered humans as much, as if they were occupied with something else. Some soldiers had the chance to return to their cities, living far from Radscha and vampire territory, like Miranda's son.
"Hey boy, are you human? Or what kind of hybrid are you?"
The sudden question made Sylene cautious. More precisely, he was a mix of many things—firebird and vampire being the dominant genes, along with others he didn't fully understand.
On the outside, he resembled a normal human, just a bit paler. Even the pointed ears—a vampire trait—appeared almost human, only slightly tapered at the tips. The tiny wings had never developed, as shown in the scientists' X-rays—a defect traced to the firebird lineage. His sister, on the other hand, had strong, fully grown wings.
Because of that, he had been labeled flawed. Still, the regeneration ability made him a valuable specimen.
"I'm not sure, maybe a bit of avian and human... but more of an avian and vampire?" he answered, uncertain. There was no way he had human blood if he had vampire blood in him. It was impossible for a vampire and a human to have offspring.
"...A birdy?" The mercenary frowned, eyes narrowing as he stared at the boy's back.
"Where are your wings? Aren't you sure, or do you just not want to tell us? What about your parents? Are you illegitimate or something? And hey, it's vampire. Which noble family did you come from?"
Sylene frowned as they poked at his private matters. What was it about being a vampire that was directly linked to being a noble? Was there something he missed?
"What's that got to do with my condition?" His stomach churned with anxiousness. "Also, I don't think I have medicine for nausea during travel, but I'll be fine tomorrow."
Michel, the other mercenary, who had given him a foul stare, clicked his tongue. "I swear, if this kid didn't pay for the carriage, I'd leave him in the woods!"
Bire slapped the back of his head, annoyed. "Shut up. You had it worse before and we didn't complain!"
The young man stared at the older mercenary with resentment, then suddenly tossed a potion toward Sylene, who caught it with precision.
"Use that. I had them years ago. Don't know if they're expired or not. I don't get allergic reactions from carriage rides anymore."
A confused glance dropped to the potion in hand. The gesture had come with irritation, yet the mercenary still gave it to him.
Why were...humans sometimes so complicated?
"Um, so... thanks?"
Michel blushed and turned to the carriage. "I just had a spare. I was gonna throw them away."
Bire sighed and noticed Sylene had already drunk the potion. "He's our youngest. The others treat him like a newbie, even though he's been with us since he was young. Anyway, let's go back. We have to reach the inn for tonight."
Sylene nodded gratefully and went inside. At the corner, he saw something, but it was nothing. A reddish-brown rabbit peeked from behind a bush, its color reminding him of a certain vampire he had been worried about lately.
Michel rested his face in his hands, eyes glued to the carriage window. "You going to work in a post office or something? The avians usually worked there."
Sylene was overwhelmed with their constant questions. One minute, they asked about his origins, the next, about his future job. He didn't even have fully grown wings like his twin. Why would he work in a post office? Didn't they need an ID?
"I'm not sure. Don't they need an ID to apply for a job? I never have one."