Chapter CCXLVI: Makes You Wonder What Side He Is ~Travallian

Travallian forced himself to try calm down. He was baffled by this being. He was baffled to see him leave so sudden. He let out an irritated sigh as he watched the clanking piece of walking armor, distending his fangs a little and then letting out a tedious growl.

“It was wrong of me to try to wander the streets of a small town at night in my normal appearance and in my usual outfit,” he said in a soft, low voice that only another vampire could hear. “I’m such an enigmatic fool. I have wasted so much time. The sun will be coming up in less than half an hour…”

Shaking his head slightly, he jumped down from the roof silently to the ground. Slowly, he looked at the castle once more then jerked his head to one side.

“Hmm…I must find somewhere to hide before sunrise. I can only use my ring for occasions only.”

Travallian looked up at the sky and slowly sniffed the air. He cringed faintly. He was able to smell the stench of corpses not too far away. He shuddered, but he knew he had to go there since it would be too late to go to an inn. He turned to where he could smell the reek of death and darted quickly and silently before anyone saw him. When he had reached the cemetery, he looked around slowly and carefully. A crypt was near the centre of the whole graveyard. He rushed to it and forced open the stone door and entered, closing it behind him.

Once closing the stone heavy stone door, he covered his nose and mouth with both his hands as if by instinct, letting out a muffled groan. The dreadful smell had filled his nostrils and he began to feel repulsively sick. He may have been a vampire, but he was far too used to the atmosphere in which mortals are attuned to that the smelled almost seemed to suffocate him.

Travallian ran deeper into the burial chamber, down a long set of stairs, despite the overpowering odor. It appeared to be much larger than he had thought it would be. He reached the bottom and saw many vaults on the sides of each wall where coffins were put. He grimaced at the sight of them.

I pity these deceased…although…I can’t help but wonder why they are put here while others are buried outside…

Taking his bandana out from one of his cloak pockets, he tied it over his face, just below the eyes. He slowly walked himself slowly to a corner with his staff. It was funny how he used the aid of his staff to walk, yet he was swift on his feet when he ran.

Slowly sitting down at a corner, he curled his knees to his chest and rested his head onto them, setting his staff next to him. He mentally sighed as he closed his eyes and uncomfortably went to sleep. Thing had not gone smoothly for him this night and he just wanted sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~

The next night came and Travallian had been awakened by his hunger. The smell of the catacomb did not seem to bother him any longer. Despite that, his head throbbed and he felt dizzy from not drinking blood for so many days from his travels. He thought he could control his temptation, but really he was just hurting himself.

He took hold of his staff, scampered onto his feet, dusted himself off, and took the bandana away from his face. Heading for the stairs, he stopped in front of the entrance, suddenly sensing the presence of living beings outside. He backed awhile slightly, unsure if he should go outside. Gulping tensely, Travallian stepped forward and pushed the profoundly tiring door enough so that he could see the outside world out of a small crack. Nocturnal light came from the crack and he looked through.

Travallian saw few mortal men outside, talking angrily at each other. They seemed to have been arguing about animals making homes in the cemetery, on the graves of the departed. From hearing this, the old vampire grinned deviously.

“Little creatures, they say?” He whispered to himself in almost a hiss. “That’s my ticket out of here.”

Travallian then pushed the door more so that was a little more than just a crack then stepped back. He then held his staff high. The emerald of it began to glow brightly in the shade of blue. Chanting a few words, the staff disappeared and a black haze engulfed his body. His form began to shift and reduce in size. He was now on all fours and gray fur now covered his body and a long, flowing tail grew. A muzzle now formed on his face and pointed ear appeared on his head. To finish off the transformation, his eyes became emerald green as if now the jewel from his staff was now temporarily part of him. The haze disappeared and he had completely transformed into a wolf.

Internally laughing within, he slipped through the opening of the catacomb and ran passed the mortals quickly, alarming them. They cursed roughly and began to chase him. Despite their efforts, they could not catch him. Being aware of this, they yelled for others to help.

“A wolf has been living in the graveyard!” they exclaimed. “Catch him!”

Lethargic men came in assistance and chased after the shape shifter, thinking he was a mere living thing. A mere animal.

Travallian ran into a shadowed alley and the men came soon enough, their rage building; mere mortals wanting to slay a beast. A wolf they may have been in search for, but only what appeared to by a human man was there. He appeared to be a teenage young man. He had short black hair and deep brown, yet navy blue outlined eyes. He wore clothing of what a thief would wear and held an emerald encrusted dagger in his left hand. He looked inventively with a mischievous grin, showing his vampiric fangs, but he knew that they could not see them from the darkness of the alleyway.

“Where is the wolf, boy?” one villager demanded.

“You just missed him, I’m afraid,” the boy lied in a mischievous tone. “He went through this small crack in this wooden fence before I could pin it to the ground and stab it with this here dagger of mine. What a shame. I was so close too!”

“Hmph, we must find it before it hurts anyone in the village.”

“Oh, I’m sure we do, sir. Everyone must scatter everywhere to search for it, shall we not?”

The villagers turned and rushed the other way as if they were a furious mob.

“Fools, these mortals be,” the boy lowly said as he sheathed his jewelled blade.

None other than Travallian he was, in human form. His expression became malevolent as he walked out of the alley.

“While they panic, I shall take one as my victim quietly. They will only think it is the wolf attacking. They wouldn’t expect a vampire in this century!”