Seren P.O.V.

I awake the following morning overcome by more than a hangover. Dread. Too much to withstand. The sensation of drowning. Disbelief and horror filling my lungs. They ache similarly to my heart and mind. Both fight among themselves as I recall the night perfectly, regardless of my intoxication.

"The children that went missing, the ones I knew and the ones you undoubtedly knew too, the church got rid of them before they caused too much ruckus."

"They wouldn't do that," I repeat the same words I told Cyan, equally as desperately, if not more so.

My feet swing over the bed. I grasp the bedside table to keep me up when my legs nearly give out. I'm unclear if that is due to the drinking prior or what I heard. Just like I'm unclear why I throw up, thankfully in the toilet, over and over. My raw throat begs for a moment of reprieve while my stomach insists I upchuck everything, then sit there heaving.

"Why not? None of the missing kids had a family to check on them. None had anywhere to go. There was no one to miss them."

They wouldn't. They couldn't. Family doesn't do that to each other. We came together after suffering in similar ways. All we have is each other and we must be loyal--

"You lose your family or never had one, then they show you what a family is. They give you friends who understand everything you went through. A beautiful home filled with toys, food, warmth, and care. You cling to that, desperately wishing for no one to tear it away from you again. It drives us to protect the new family we were given. Our siblings sitting beside us and the church who has taken care of us; we begin to believe we owe them everything."

But I do owe them everything. If Olere hadn't found me when he did, I'd be dead. If Olere didn't stop me from throwing myself from the top of the cathedral, I'd be dead. If the church didn't take me in and give me purpose, I'd be dead. Because I have nothing else to live for. The moment my family died, I didn't know what to do, who I was, or where I could go. The church helped me find that. They helped others. We're meant to protect. It's for the greater good! It has to be...

"Seren?" Lore stands in the bathroom doorway donning a concerned frown.

Why concern? Why does he have to look like he cares? I can't handle it.

"Get out," I demand, voice raspy from abuse.

"But you're--"

"I said get out!" I shove Lore away. If he falls, I don't see it as I slam and lock the door.

"Seren, if you're feeling unwell, we need to get you some medicine," he says from the other side, rattling the doorknob. Lore's concern falls upon deaf ears. I can't hear another word as my mind plagues me with conflict.

Cyan is right. I can think of quite a few from my youth who "left." Those who spoke against the church or didn't show the same loyalty as the rest of us. Their leaving always made sense; they weren't interested in the church so why would they stay? And why would they continue contacting us if they wanted to start a new life?

Or did it never make sense and I merely hoped it did? Because if I stood against the church, I'd lose them. The last family I had. Then I'd have to face what had been done to me and what I had done to others. I began training at the age of eleven. My childhood was stripped away. Rather than hold me and tell me everything would be okay, the church put a weapon in my grasp. They told me to stand strong, to fight against monsters who tore my life to shreds, then they put those monsters in front of me.

"Pick your weapon," Paladin Nallin said. She stood in front of a table lined with weapons that we all had trained with over the past few years. I grasped the axe that had become an extension of my arm since I picked it up two years ago.

"Follow me," she demanded, guiding me through the tunnel to the arena. Darkness filled the tunnel save for the few torches lining the walls. As we approached the iron gate, a single barred window allowed a hint of light to filter in.

"Today, you've earned the right to fight." Nallin rested a proud hand on my shoulder. I tried not to shake, tried not to show fear for what I knew I would face behind that gate. "Remember, this bastard slaughtered five innocent people. There are countless survivors who now have to live without their loved ones and two children at our orphanage without parents."

Her words lit a fire within me. I let that fire roar, to burn through my veins. The anger pushed me through the gate. Another iron gate across the sandy pit opened. A dhampir came barrelling out. His eyes squinted from the light. I lunged forward before he got his bearings.

My family cheered. They called my name, encouraging me to rid the world of another beast. Another who destroyed families and would destroy us if we let them.

"Get him!"

"Kill him, Seren!"

The dhampir's eyes were ablaze with what I thought to be pure rage. But after I relieved him of his head, I started to think it was fear. For the briefest moment, there was pity until I remembered the lives he took.

My first kill was at fourteen years old. And people cheered.

Pressing my back to the bathroom door, I slide to the floor. I bring my knees to my chest, burying my face within them. I refuse to accept the tears.

At fourteen, I should have been worried about boys, how I'd get a date, wonder what it was like to have my first kiss, and staying out late with friends. I should have been going to school, worrying about passing the next math test, or reading raunchy books without telling my parents. Instead, I learned how to kill. And when I didn't do well enough, when I didn't show the cruelty I should have, I got in trouble.

I trained from sun up until sun down in the yard. Paladin Nallin always told us to imagine the enemy; red eyed, orange eyed, gold eyed beasts instead of straw puppets. Sometimes that worked and I hit with all my might. Others, I hesitated. She didn't like that.

"You're hesitating," Nallin growled. I whimpered when she brought the rod against my aching knuckles. "You cannot hesitate on the field. It will get you and your family killed!"

"But... but let's say a vampire bit someone and they survived. Do I still kill them? I don't think that's befitting of their crime and--and maybe they'd get better if we talked to them or got them help," I mumbled more to myself than Nallin. She still heard and her gaze hardened to stone.

She brought the rod against the back of my thighs so hard that my knees gave out. I fell to the ground, grasping my burning thighs. Her steel tipped boots came into my vision. I peered fearfully up at her hollow eyes.

"A vampire bite is a death sentence," she lectured, pointing the rod threateningly at me. "Dead or not, the addiction to blight is more likely to kill you. Even if it doesn't, it will likely destroy everything and everyone you love. You know that well, don't you, Seren?"

I remembered Mom on the bloody carpet, how she didn't even see me, how she didn't hear me beg to be saved.

"Vampires and dhampir are all alike. We give them the mercy of living out a few decades of their pathetic lives until they make the wrong move, that is more than they deserve. Now get up!" She yanked me to my feet. When I swayed, she whacked my thighs again. "Keep steady. Never fall. You won't have the chance to get back up on the field."

"Yes, Paladin Nallin." I grasped my wooden axe and returned to hitting the practice dummy.

"And Seren," Nallin called a few steps away. I looked at her over my shoulder. "The concern you show them is a weakness. If you wish to take your place beside the rest of us, if you wish to make a name for yourself, I suggest you get rid of that concern. Fast."

And I did get rid of it, as she requested, because I wanted to prove myself. I fought against short rebellions and searched for vampires drunk on blood. I battled them, made sure they couldn't hurt others, and told myself what the church always told me; all the pain I went through was for the greater good. So others would not go through the same horror I did. If all I've known is a lie, what happens? What am I?

It can't be. Cyan must be wrong. It was a hunch and a wrong one. He can't be right.

He can't be.

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Kind of a dark chapter to post this announcement on, but hey, I am going to start working on a patreon exclusive story. I want readers to pick what that next story will be. Please use the external link or follow the one on my dashboard to take the google form. If you're a patron, there's a patreon poll if you rather use that. Please don't vote twice!

Seren's really struggling with what Cyan had to say. What do you think about all the training Seren went through? Will he be able to let go of the past or live with what he has done? My poor baby is having such a tough time D: