Morningstar

[CH. 0008] - Two Moons

"I don't know. I'm sure a vampire spawn could still rip out your throat." - Astarion

Nord's gaze was unwavering, her eyes drinking in the man before her—a mosaic of contradictions, beauty tainted by a darker nature. Adamastor, in return, waited for her judgment, his crimson eyes a window to a soul that had weathered half a century ago of solitude and stigma.

"A vampire?" she finally said, breaking the heavy silence that had enveloped them.

"A spawn," he clarified, "All the thirst, but none of the perks," he chuckled, "No power, no magic, no ability to turn anyone into an abomination, as I said, all the thirst without any fun."

She instinctively touched her neck, still tender from the sensation of needle-like fangs piercing her skin. The memory of it brought an uncomfortable shudder to her body.

"It was me," Adamastor confessed, his voice a mixture of regret and desperation. "I was hunting; I saw you, and something overcame me. I don't have words to explain. It was completely out of my modus operandi. I never attack humans or any sentient beings, only animals, I swear. Boars, deers, and, on an unlucky day, chickens and cats. But last night, I lost control. You were... enticing." He watched her intently, hoping for some reaction, some sign of forgiveness or perhaps damnation.

Nord, however, stood motionless, her eyes still fixed on his. She seemed lost in thought, her hand absentmindedly rubbing her sore neck.

"Please, say something," he urged.

She finally spoke, her voice surprisingly calm. "There are two moons in the sky."

Adamastor blinked, baffled by her response. But then, he remembered she was an outsider, new to the complexities and oddities of this world.

"Yes, they're just two moons," he agreed.

"Don't they have names?" she asked.

He shook his head. "No one ever thought to name them, I suppose."

"That's sad," Nord mused, her voice tinged with a melancholy that seemed to seep into the room. "Everything here is sad. And to think, I believed my life was shitty. It was shitty. Or maybe it's me that only sees sadness."

Adamastor looked at her, moved by her insight. "Then maybe, just maybe, we can find something less sad together."

Adamastor watched as Nord's eyes flickered from his face to some far-off point behind him as if she were trying to reconcile the reality of him—a vampire spawn—with her own disorienting experiences since arriving in this strange world.

Nord looked back at him, her eyes sharpening with newfound clarity. "But doesn't naming something give it importance? Doesn't it make it matter?"

Adamastor pondered her words, feeling the subtle shift in their conversation from a revelation that should have been shattering to a discussion of what it means to matter—to exist with purpose and meaning.

"Perhaps it does," he finally admitted.

Nord folded her arms, hugging herself.

"You gave me more than light, Nord. It was freedom, even if ephemeral. And in my long years, freedom has been a rare commodity," Adamastor said, his voice tinged with an emotion he rarely allowed himself to feel, let alone express: hope.

"And your freedom came because of me?" Nord's voice wavered between incredulity and a hesitant wonder.

"That's my theory, yes," Adamastor conceded, "I guess it was your blood."