CHAPTER 20: Meals and Revelations

CHAPTER 20: Meals and Revelations

The cabin was a structure of aged logs, nestled among ancient cedars whose scent permeated the night air. Inside, the fire crackled in a stone fireplace, casting dancing shadows on walls adorned with hunting tools and dried herbs. A solid oak table, worn by time, held wooden plates with simple but abundant food: rye bread, aged cheese, and venison stew steaming in clay bowls.

Alucard poured red wine from a pewter jug into two horn cups.

"Eat, Fénix," he said, sliding a bowl toward him. "Wolves need to replenish their strength."

Fénix slumped into a wicker chair, his muscles protesting with every movement.

"What luxury," he murmured with weak sarcasm. "I thought we'd dine on berries and raw mice."

"I'm a vampire, not a barbarian," Alucard offered a smile. "Style matters, even in exile."

They ate in silence for a moment, the only sound the wind whispering through the trees. Fénix broke the ice, his curiosity overcoming his exhaustion.

"Tell me, Alucard," he said, dipping bread into the stew. "Who were you before... this? Something more than a fairytale villain."

Alucard turned his horn cup, the firelight reflecting in the wine like liquid blood.

"I was born in an era where legend and history blurred," he began, his voice taking on a narrative tone. "I was a noble in a court that no longer exists, in a kingdom devoured by time. My transformation wasn't the work of a sorcerer... it was a choice."

Fénix arched an eyebrow.

"You chose to be a vampire?"

"I chose power," Alucard corrected. "Immortality was the price. Blood, the tribute. It wasn't a pact with the devil, but with the darkness I already carried within."

"Sounds like a very bloody journey of self-discovery," Fénix took a sip of wine. "At least I'm not the only one with a complicated life."

Alucard laughed, a sound as soft as torn silk.

"Power always demands a price, Fénix. The question is whether you'd be willing to pay it."

"I'm talking about survival," Fénix looked into the fire. "This war... do you think it will ever end?"

"What do you think?" Alucard deflected the question with elegance.

"No," Fénix didn't hesitate. "It's a cycle. There will always be someone who wants control, another who resists. Like the seasons."

"Perceptive," Alucard nodded. "Peace is just a breather between conflicts. But those breathers... are worth it."

Alucard refilled the cups.

"And you, mon petit loup? What ghosts haunt you?"

Fénix sighed, toying with his bowl.

"I grew up in the 18th century. When lycans were hunted, not studied. We were beasts in bestiaries, not soldiers in laboratories."

"A difficult time to be different," murmured Alucard.

"After... incidents, I ended up imprisoned with others of my kind," Fénix continued, his voice rougher. "Marius freed us. I fought by his side until he was killed. Now... here I am. Surviving."

Alucard studied him, his red eyes gleaming with interest.

"Marius... that name resonates. An idealist, wasn't he?"

"A madman," Fénix smiled bitterly. "But mad like us."

"Chaos has its charm," Alucard raised his glass. "It gives flavor to eternity."

"Yeah, well," Fénix clinked his glass against Alucard's. "I guess without it, I'd be bored."

The cabin filled with a comfortable silence. Alucard collected the plates, moving with the grace of someone who has had centuries to practice.

"You have something, Fénix," he said suddenly, without looking at him. "A... resilience. It's not just the transformation. It's something deeper."

Fénix frowned.

"Like what?"

"Like iron forged in the cold," Alucard turned to him. "Bent, but not broken. It's rare in lycans your age."

"Compliments, Alucard?" Fénix smiled. "Careful, you might go soft."

"It's not a compliment," Alucard dried a knife with a cloth. "It's an observation. And a warning: that which makes you resilient... also makes you dangerous. To yourself and to others."

Fénix looked into the fire, the flames reflecting in his eyes.

"I know," he whispered. "I know."

Outside, the forest whispered ancient secrets. Inside, two monsters shared a truce, knowing that at dawn, the war would claim them again.