A medical emergency

[fadingworld]

A deep navy cloak hides his features and the more ornate tunic the courtesan usually wears to greet his clients. Mal hunches his shoulders and slides through the crowds hoping to avoid notice. He keeps his head down until he reaches the home of the doctor and wraps smartly on the door. "Open up," he calls in a voice that expects to be listened to.

How much time did he have? He could not have a client bleeding out. Not this one. Not one who had come to him for help, to be treated privately.

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[fadingworld]

"Then perhaps tonight," Mal says easily. "I thought perhaps and a desk? That shouldn't ovetax me, should it? Nor take up too much of the remainder of the day."

[mandragoraspiritus]

They go about the day, Regis by all means back to his usual friendly self. They find a simple but sturdy desk ready made rather than have to order one, and when they return back to Regis' house after a lengthy visit to the tailor for measuring that desk has already been delivered and the two of them make quick work of carrying it in to place. The bed is still absent, but Regis makes an effort to gather up all pillows and blankets that he can , and with the new blanket that Mal himself had bought the young man should have a decently comfortable night.

After dinner Regis ducks into his stores to retrieve one of his bottles of mandrake spirit. It is of his own making, a recipe he becomes more and more proud of the more he refines it. It is potent, flavorful and - putting all false modesty aside - excellent. He brings it to the study and sets out two glasses, even though he'd have been perfectly content in just swigging from the bottle.

"Close as we are to Toussaint, I assume that the news about the Beast of Beauclair a few years ago did not go without notice?" He starts with asking Mal once they are seated.

[fadingworld]

Mal could not be happier with the nest that they have created in the room. The soft red blanket resting on top means the world to him. He knows it is his and his alone, and when he curls in it, he will not have shared it with other bodies.

He goes back to look at a few times to make sure it is still there before they settle into the study for the evening. He curls his feet up under him on the seat and takes a sip of the drink, making a brief exclamation of delight before he answers the question.

"It certainly did not escape notice, it was the main topic of conversation for a while."

[mandragoraspiritus]

Regis nods. He looks tired now where he sits with his glass cradled between his hands. "The one who carried out those murders, as well as set loose that hoard of lower vampires over Beauclair was Dettlaff. My blood brother. I will say he carried them out, though I refuse to say that he was behind them. It is an exceedingly long story, of deceit and love, and ultimately of such heartbreak. Still, though I would not put all blame on Dettlaff's shoulders, he went too far. Far too far."

He pauses and drains his glass in a single long gulp and silently refills it before going on.

"The witcher who put a stop to the Beast of Beauclair is an old and very dear friend of mine. We worked side by side during those trying times, him and me, to put a stop to the murders and him to help me find the reason why Dettlaff was committing them. But as things came to a head, and through events unforeseen, there was no longer a choice to us. I knew Dettlaff would not stop."

Another pause though now Regis merely stares at his glass, remembering those events. "I will now reveal to you a little known fact; a higher vampire can not die, other than at the hands of another higher vampire. We can be incapacitated, rendered into such a state that to a human it would no doubt be seen like death. Still, given enough time we will always regenerate. The witcher by my side fought well and did prevail. But it was still I who ultimately had to deal the finishing blow."

Pause. Drink. Refill. Eyes staring into the past. "There are very few higher vampires walking this world. Only few came through from our own world, and though there are more of us now our numbers are still small. So there is the unspoken yet undeniable law between us, that we do not kill our own, not when death is then permanent. In ending Dettlaff's life I broke that law and in so doing became anathema to my own kind. I went against my own for the sake of humanity, and have so in all essence signed away my own life. More likely than not, I am to be attacked on sight."

[fadingworld]

Empathy brings Mal out of his seat to crouch in front of Regis, resting a hand on his arm. "Surely," he says softly, "If there was something you had to make up for that was the act to make up for whatever it was. What you did was noble and selfless and at great personal cost."

[mandragoraspiritus]

"Do not take me lightly when I say that I am a monster. I have countless lives on my conscience, Mal, ended for no better reason that my own thirst and enjoyment. No, it shall never be enough to make up for that."

He slowly shakes his head. "The reason why I feel you deserve to know this tale, is that while I may not be actively hunted - out of sight, out of mind you might say - should I encounter another of my kind I may be attacked. If you are connected to me, it may put you in danger as well."

[fadingworld]

Mal smiles up gently, "I will stick by you, I don't know what I would be able to do if there was trouble but I can promise I will never intentionally betray you."

There are many questions he would like to ask but it doesn't feel like the time when the story has clearly been hard to tell. "I honestly like what I know of you so far, you are not a monster to me."

[mandragoraspiritus]

Regis smiles, then, but it is the same small smile from before the reveal and he looks tired, oh so tired. "You are kind, Mal. Kinder than you know."

[fadingworld]

"Perhaps," Mal says rising to put his hands on Regis shoulders, "That is what you need? How long have you been alone?" There is no judgment, just warm sympathy.

[mandragoraspiritus]

From having looked down at Mal kneeling by his feet, Regis must now tilt his head back to keep Mal's face in view. "Since I left Toussaint shortly after Dettlaff's death," he confesses. "I wandered for a couple of years before coming here."

[fadingworld]

That is too long for anyone to be alone with only thoughts and memories for company. He squeezes Regis' shoulders, offering some little comfort.

"Too long," he murmurs, "But that changes now. Any time you wish to talk I will listen."

[mandragoraspiritus]

A few years is but the blink of an eye to the immortal, Regis could argue. But at the same time, it has been a few long years.

"I'm not sure I know what to say," comes another confession from him. At first he had thought that taken Mal on as his apprentice had been for mostly altruistic reasons, but perhaps he is doing this as much for his own sake. Because he needs the company.

[fadingworld]

Mal's lips quirk up into a teasing smile to lighten the mood a little. "A thank you will do and an answer to one question." He goes back to his seat and takes a sip of his drink. "Exactly, how old are you?"

[mandragoraspiritus]

His expression softens, becoming milder as he bows his head in simple acceptance of the situation and of the gift he's being give. "Then, yes, thank you, Mal. For your kindness and your company."

Gently nudging Mal to resume his seat he reaches for the bottle to top up their glasses. "And I am 439 years old, according to the human calendar." More humor creeps into his expression. "As I said, rather ancient."

[fadingworld]

Mal cocks his head on one side. "I would have said you didn't look a day over 200," he responds with cheerful humour. It was quite a shock to hear the age out loud, but what does the age change? Nothing.

"Forgive me if I pest you for history lessons."

[mandragoraspiritus]

In part Regis wonders if Mal truly understands all this, what it is he's been told. It seems so easy for the other man to just accept it all.

"My knowledge of history is not without gaps, I must admit. There has been periods where I have been, ah, indisposed. As it were."

[fadingworld]

"Indisposed?" Mal raises an eyebrow. "How do you mean?" The drink is going down far too easily and it does not take huge doses to get him drunk.

[mandragoraspiritus]

"When I say that we higher vampires can be incapacitated, I know of which I speak. I once spent some fifty years buried underground, regenerating from having a steak through my heart and my head chopped off." He smiles wryly, now sipping his drink more slowly. "While such time gives one ample opportunity to think and consider ones life choices, it is not conductive to keeping up with current events."

[fadingworld]

"....gross," Mal admits. "And the people who did that to you believed it would kill you." It had to be lonely, lying there for such a long time. "Waiting to regenerate, that almost seems worse than a clean death."

[mandragoraspiritus]

"They did," he says. "Many of the things supposedly known about vampires are ultimately false, though it is useful for us for such notions to be out there. And waiting to regenerate is certainly not worse. You must understand that I have a completely different perception of time than you do. In a way, you could think of it as not so different that it would be for a human to recover after a lengthy illness or serious injury. It takes time and effort and is far from pleasant, but, we simply heal."

[fadingworld]

"Oh," Mal looks thoughtful. "Do you remember every year, or do memories fade like they do for us?" Apart from the happiest and saddest memories that never fully go away.

[mandragoraspiritus]

"I remember them," Regis answers after a moment of thought. "For better or worse." There were years he would far rather forget.

[fadingworld]

"The bad can make the good memories shine all the brighter," Mal says gently. He holds up his glass, "And where have you got this delightful drink from? I have not tasted something this good before."

[mandragoraspiritus]

"It is of my own make," he reveals, a more lighter smile at the change to a less heavy topic. "It is a mandrake distillate that I have been developing for quite the number of years now. One of the rare things I make purely for pleasure's sake rather than for practicality."

[fadingworld]

"I think I am going to love it and it maybe a little dangerous for me," Mal confesses. "I only sipped drinks around clients which I sometimes regretted. I could have drunk more."

He grins, "So I am sorry if I say or do anything silly."