Renji followed the forest trail until the trees grew so thick the light barely cut through. The air was colder here, heavy with mist, carrying a faint copper tang that clung to the back of his throat. Vampire land. He could feel it even without Dorian's warning.
He pushed through the heavy mist, branches clawing at his cloak. "Vampire territory sure is hard to navigate," he muttered.
Pathetic, Nyx's voice rumbled in his chest, velvet and cruel. You carry the abyss itself, and you whine about a little smoke.
Renji rolled his eyes. "Easy for you to say. You don't trip over roots."
The trees thinned, revealing a shallow cave in the hillside. Renji dropped his pack inside, gathered some wood, and soon had a small fire crackling. The smell of dried meat filled the space as he roasted his last ration over the flames.
He sighed. "So, what's your opinion? Stick to small villages, or risk the capital? I don't think they'll let me pass through without trouble."
Your vampire friend spoke the truth, Nyx said, voice low. Vampires have a rare gift. If they watch you long enough, they'll see the darkness inside you. The capital is dangerous. Too many eyes. Too many questions.
Renji frowned. "So… avoid it? We're running low. No potions, no food. Adventurers' guilds pay decently, but the guild's in the core of the capital."
Nyx's voice hardened, dripping with scorn. Me? The Primordial of Darkness, reduced to fetching coins like a child with a wooden sword?
Renji barked a laugh. "That would be funny, now that I think about it."
Do not mock me, Nyx hissed.
"Well," Renji said with a smirk, turning his meat on the stick, "the fact you hate the idea makes me want it even more."
The fire popped, sparks dancing up into the dark. Renji stretched his sore arm. "For now, let's find a merchant and restock. Eryndor's potions are gone, and without them I'm one bad fight away from being a corpse. Again."
Broke, starving, hopeless, Nyx sneered. You sound less like a chosen host and more like a beggar king. Fitting.
Renji grinned faintly into the firelight. "A king, huh? Not the worst title I've been called."
********************
Renji's boots crunched over dead leaves as he followed the road. The forest seemed endless—mist, crooked trees, and the occasional beast lunging from the dark. Each one fell to his blade of shadow, scattering into fading essence. His body ached, but he pressed on.
By dusk, a cluster of lanterns flickered ahead. A village. Stone walls, low houses, and pale-eyed vampires moving quietly along the narrow streets. The air was heavy, but Renji's stomach growled louder than his nerves.
Inside a small tavern, he found an elder vampire, hair silver, skin pale as parchment. The man poured Renji a bowl of stew and set out dried rations for his pack. Renji ate slowly, savoring it, though his pouch of coins felt painfully light.
"We don't see many travelers these days," the elder said, voice weary. "Merchants avoid this road. Patrols don't come. Too dangerous."
Renji raised an eyebrow. "Dangerous how? This forest is already crawling with monsters."
The elder shook his head. "Not just monsters. A curse. A witch. The Doll Witch." His voice dropped. "No one has seen her face. Only her creations. Her dolls walk the night, filled with stolen blood. For most, that's the last thing they ever see."
Renji paused, remembering the twitching puppet in the woods. "Sounds familiar."
The elder gave a bitter laugh. "Because of her, monsters close in every night. Our hunters are stretched thin. Supplies dwindle. Soon this village will fall."
When the meal was done, Renji set his last coins on the table. It wasn't enough—less than the worth of the food and rations—but the elder took it without complaint.
Renji stood, adjusting his cloak. "Thanks for the meal. I'll be on my way."
He turned for the door, but the elder's eyes followed him. They widened, his jaw slackening. He stumbled from his chair, rushing after Renji, and collapsed to his knees on the road.
"Stop! Please—stop!"
Renji turned sharply. "What are you doing?"
The elder's eyes shone with terror and hope. "I know I overstep. But… I can see it. Inside you. You carry something. Power." His voice cracked. "Please, sir. Lend us your aid. Find the Doll Witch. Convince her to leave us be. If you succeed, everything this village has will be yours."
Renji narrowed his eyes. "I'm just a traveler. I'm not here to fight your battles."
The elder bent lower, forehead nearly to the ground. "Please. I beg you. You can help us. No one else can."
Silence hung between them, broken only by the hiss of wind through the mist. Finally, Renji exhaled, shoulders slumping.
"…Fine. I'll look into it."
The elder's hands trembled as he pressed them together in thanks.
Hah, Nyx purred inside Renji, amused. So easily swayed by begging? Careful, boy. Heroes bleed first.
Renji pulled his cloak tighter, staring toward the misty forest. "I'm not a hero. Just someone who's out of options."
********************
Renji followed the elder's directions to the Mountains of the Dead, a jagged ridge where the village kept its graveyard. The air grew colder with every step, heavy with the scent of moss and old earth.
Fitting, Nyx murmured in his chest. Blood magic thrives where death sleeps. How ironic.
Renji muttered back, "Yeah, great. Exactly where I wanted to be."
A sharp crack split the silence. Then another. From behind the rocks came the sound of splintering wood. Renji's hand tensed.
Thin, jointed fingers clawed over the stone in front of him. A wooden doll pulled itself into view—faceless, no taller than his chest, its limbs jerking like a puppet on invisible strings. Drops of red pattered from its body onto the dirt below. Blood.
Renji lifted his arm. Darkness gushed from his skin, writhing violently, shaping into a massive, double-edged greatsword of shadow. Purple light flared in his eyes.
Two more dolls clambered out of the rocks to join the first.
Renji stepped forward taking a fighting pose, blade humming with raw aura. "Let's see what a Leader-class of shadows can do."
The middle doll twitched. Though it had no mouth, a voice seeped out, layered and eerie.
"Who are you, human?"
Renji's grip tightened. "…My name is Renji. Kurogane Renji."
A pause, then the voice echoed again. "Nice to meet you, Renji. What is your business here… Primordial of Darkness?"
Renji's jaw clenched. Damn it. I can't keep flashing Nyx like this. Louder, he said, "Ah… I'm here on behalf of the village. They're suffering. Your dolls keep drawing monsters and scaring merchants away. Would you… consider taking your business elsewhere?"
The voice came back calm, almost gentle. "I don't want to hurt the villagers. That is not my objective. Are you hostile?"
Renji hesitated. His sword of shadow dissolved into black smoke, leaving only his bare arm. He forced a small smile. "No. I'm not looking for a fight."
The three dolls turned, creaking in unison. "Follow my children."
Renji narrowed his eyes but stepped after them, the crunch of gravel underfoot echoing in the hollow silence. They led him through a twisting path into a cave, where faint candlelight flickered.
From the shadows ahead, a small figure emerged.
She wore a simple black dress, her pale skin almost ghostly in the candlelight. Golden-blonde hair framed a delicate, youthful face; her bright blue eyes gleamed with unsettling sharpness. She was small—barely reaching Renji's chest—but the weight of her presence pressed heavier than any giant.
"So… you are the Primordial of Darkness," she said, her voice light, girly, sweet and curious. "How exciting."
Renji stopped dead. "…That's the Doll Witch?"
That's the Doll Witch, Nyx confirmed at the exact same time, his tone dripping with disbelief.
Renji stared. "Are you serious? She's just a kid."
Nyx roared with laughter, shaking Renji's chest. That little brat commands such power! Hahaha!
The girl's cheeks puffed with indignation. "I'm not a kid. I'm an adult! Don't make fun of my height!"
She lifted her chin proudly. "My name is Marianette. Marianette Necrom."