Chapter XVI

What a Mess

"I 'm sorry, Master Demiesius. It is almost impossible to determine the true effects of a toxin without a history of extensive studies or current, on-going trials. From the research put forth already, there are no catalogs in the human world or our own Archive that expand on a solution derived from the Pyrenean violet. Your son, by our knowledge, is the only dhampir in history to be injected with its contents. We cannot determine the extent of its effects without closer observation or, of course, opening a trial of our own on other willing participants. I highly doubt parents of other dhampirs around the world would be willing to subject their children to it. So, with that said, going forward, our best bet would be to obtain the one responsible for injecting your son and extracting the purpose of it from them."

It was agreed .

Inside coven leader Ha-yoon's office, Demiesius had been accompanied by Elder Eros. Together they were met by Dae-jung and the few others that'd been liberated from Saengsacho's underground.

Having listened to their stories of capture by various means, it was determined that whomever this man, Kyung-hwan, was with access to the underground unit worked alone.

As explained by Kyung-hwan's first victim, an immortal woman from Gwangju, this man somehow knew how to determine who was an immortal without previous knowledge. He'd befriend them, build rapport, and solidify a close relationship before then inviting them to Saengsacho. Intimacy would spark but soon he would follow up with capture.

With charm and trust having been the method used to reel in the others, Dae-jung spoke of being the final victim due to his cover being blown by Kyung-hwan's determination skills. Apparently Kyung-hwan had always been suspicious of him given Dae-jung's weak ties to the village; the coming and going and never being seen during the day had solidified the suspicions, more so after his first week back to live closer to his wife and Min-jae.

As their blood was extracted, no answers were ever given as to why a mortal man would desire the essence of a vampire. After all, there were two main uses for the blood of an immortal that could benefit a human.

When ingested in large takes, vampire blood promised healing elements, just as the mere touch of blood upon any outward wounds would make them disappear. Accompanied by a bite, blood could raise another into the night, but that desire seemed lost on a man who was not an immortal himself nor did he appear to like their kind in the first place.

Demiesius and Eros thought there had to be a profit purpose, but the second inquiry fell onto the purpose of the Pyrenean violet. If it could activate a dhampir's pain receptors, was there more to wanting a dhampir to experience pain for the first time? For all anyone knew, it was still impossible to kill a dhampir so easily.

As told by Demiesius and Eros' own history with a clash that'd taken place some centuries ago, dhampirs were damn near unbeatable and were stronger and faster than a single elder.

With full focus, it had taken the effort of all five elders at the time to merely halt the enraged dhampir in their tracks back then.

Pondering on the struggle from long ago, Demiesius recounted the brush he'd partaken in with Eros, Bethania, Minerva, and Nabadias at the time. The close calls of nearly having their heads torn from their shoulders, the terrifying being that'd barely seen them as anything other than a nuisance, Demiesius could still feel the heaviness of their glare, their desire for destruction, all for the sorrow and anger brought forth due to the death of the boy's father.

Visualizing the crimson flames that'd burrowed into his skull so long ago, an image of the boy's face entered Demiesius' mind, an echo of the plea that'd touched his ear, and the reality of what it took to stop a dhampir from rampaging on and on with seemingly no end in sight.

Earlier in the night, Demiesius had met with a group of immortals with close ties to scientific advancements and studies located not far in Incheon, South Korea. He'd trusted them to analyze the Pyrenean violet, but after it was determined no further knowledge of it could be obtained if not through other unsavory means, he'd moved on to his next step of scrutiny.

That, however, went nowhere just as he'd suspected.

Alongside Elder Eros, they'd met with a number of inner government directors to arrange an infiltration of the village conducted by an approved party.

The request had gone nowhere no matter Demiesius and Eros' understanding of if the directors wanted to approve their own team rather than give allowance to immortals.

For an hour, they'd listened to reasons as to why Demiesius himself should be barred from being involved in the matter given his ties to acquiring answers was personal, as well as how inappropriate it would be to give vampires the go ahead to take matters into their own hands.

Saengsacho's actions were taken against vampires, but it was still a matter engineered by a mortal; thus, it should be taken care of by…mortals.

When Demiesius demanded how long it would take for their own investigation to begin, the moment the word ‘month' was said, the elder had to hold onto the fullest extent of his composure before he'd said: "You are more than welcome to take your time in determining when it will be suitable for you to begin looking into this matter. I, on the other hand, most certainly will not permit another night to go by, thus allowing this man the comfort of believing what actions he's committed against my son and my people have been tolerated."

Demiesius and Eros had been firm in their means to take things on themselves, and when the directors made an attempt to block their determination a second time, Eros had said: "You have under one minute to counter our resolve by making immediate arrangements to tear apart Saengsacho yourselves. If you cannot do that, your silence will be considered a refusal, and you will be able to find my brother and I at the perimeter of Saengsacho by the time the sun disappears."

When silence met the elder's ears, they had their answer. And in that piercing silence as it filled the chamber, mild relief stood before Demiesius as he hoped this infiltration brought him a step closer to laying all this to rest.

***

Seated in the rear of a blackout SUV, Demiesius closed his eyes and let his senses do what they always did when continuous worries racked his thoughts. As a being who was far more connected with those who had strong ties to the blood in his veins, when the elder was immersed in tensions he couldn't quite silence on his own, he would put what focus he could onto his family.

After being able to properly raise Hamilton into an immortal some years after Lysander's birth, all of his husband's nature became known to him as intimately as any properly raised blood child would.

While that was technically their status to one another, Hamilton was and would always be more than a vampire raised under Demiesius' influence. Their bond was formed through loving ties, and they shared something with one another that no one else in the world could achieve: their very own children.

In his method of concentration, Demiesius let the draw of those closest to him speak their existence to him. The strongest announcements would always come from his children, given they were made up of his flesh and blood. They were each their own person who carried with them a distinct spirit that spoke of who exactly they were.

As the drive carried on for several minutes, Demiesius' mind flowed with thoughts of his children. Lysander was the first to come to him. He was the epitome of innocence and all of what compassion defined itself as, and in the boy's appearance, Demiesius couldn't help but see a mirrored image of himself. In looks alone, they were the same, and while a certain type of compassion existed in Demiesius now, what darkness he'd lived through and caused by his own hands would never stain Lysander's in the same ways. For as long as possible, Demiesius vowed to maintain the innocence of his youngest son, of all his sons…if it could be done.

When the picture of Lysander faded, Gabriel's likeness joined the elder next. He was a meek boy who was drawn to peace, found endless enjoyment in obtaining knowledge, and Demiesius would always cherish the nights Gabriel had begged for tales of his past escapades when he was small. In the windows of Gabriel's eyes sat the idea that his father was a paragon among all figures through time, and although Demiesius couldn't say he was as perfect as his youngest children saw him, their belief in such was more than appreciated.

An unconscious smile touched Demiesius' lips when Avery came to mind after Gabriel, the boy that looked most like his husband, and could most assuredly be compared to Hamilton, too. The boy had also been the one to cling to Demiesius the most after gathering what human warmth he'd obtained from Hamilton.

Demiesius had always been understanding to the fact that dhampirs were innately drawn to their mortal parents in the first years of their lives, but for Avery to have eagerly sought to be nearer to him — the years in which Avery wished to be held by his father, had clung to him and found rare sleep in his arms — Demiesius cherished everything and more about those times.

Sebastian's quite colorful personality lit the forefront of Demiesius' mind next, how much of an opposite to either of his parents the boy was. He was rowdy and effervescent in how he brought out the sparks of those around him, and although the elder would have to remind the boy to practice restraint and have regard for those same people on occasion, Demiesius would forever view Sebastian's presence as the start of a new chapter in his family's lives. Sebastian was a second chance, a second chance for more.

And then there was the oldest of the Titus boys, Jeremiah, and when Demiesius unconsciously attempted to reach out and perceive the aura of his son, the elder sighed internally at the realization that Jeremiah oddly felt further than usual.

No matter if they'd never been as close to one another through the decades, that never stopped their perception for one another from functioning. The idea of Jeremiah being far from him was something he'd come to terms with, but to feel it, this sort of advanced distance brought forth further suspicion unto Demiesius.

What is happening, my son?

He needed to know.

"How is Jeremiah fairing?" Demiesius heard then, Eros returning his focus.

Opening his eyes, the elder switched his gaze to Eros before turning his sights out the window. The southern Jeolla Province was without the light of the sun now, fields of green and patches of forests going by under the cover of night. This area of the country was largely untouched by immortal influence, as the closest covens he knew of were based in central Gwangju and Busan.

Regardless of that, it seemed trouble would settle anywhere it found a footing, and the peaceful County of Boseong was no exception.

"I am unsure," Demiesius answered at last. "My son has never known physical pain, and he is not one for public outbursts, yet it seems he has come to lose himself since his encounter with this substance."

"And we are certain it is this violet that has conjured a change in him?" Eros questioned.

"It must be," Demiesius said. "His body wields evidence of past wounds now; he suffered from the afflictions when he returned home with them. Even now, I have never felt further from my son than I do at this moment. It is unknown if he feels the difference, but Jeremiah's impression is far from me, and the only newly introduced element is that damned substance administered to him."

"I see," Eros pondered, reaching into the inside pocket of his dark coat. He withdrew a metallic cigarette case and sighed when seeing there were only two hand-rolled sticks left. Plucking one from within, Eros said, "I don't know about you, Brother, but answers aren't the only thing I've come along to gather with you."

"What is it you mean?"

Digging a lighter from his inside pocket as well, Eros flicked the flint wheel as mild sparks flew but nothing caught. "After the ordeal with the lycans, after the disrespect placed upon Minerva's death with how long it took those mortals to put a name to the orchestrator of her death, you think I have any patience left in me for man? I would be stunned if you plan to promise a crumb of patience once we arrive in Saengsacho."

"For the man who has brought harm to my son," Demiesius said, an annoyance reaching him at the continuous flick of Eros' unsuccessful lighter. "A miracle will have to ensue if he believes the night will end with his life intact. However…" Demiesius glared toward his fellow elder, and he snatched the lighter. "As for the remainder of the village, if there is no reason to wipe the floor with the rest, I do not see purpose in disposing of everyone."

Eros looked toward Demiesius' fist when it came open, revealing the bent metal of the lighter, and he took it back. "Yes, yes," Eros nodded, "I understand. In these times, you would never take the life of someone who does not deserve to die. I also think I wished to travel with you to make certain you do not get caught up in your morals. You've gotten…soft."

Demiesius believed so, too, but that didn't necessarily make him feel smaller than his fellow elders. Everyone had their line they refused to cross, and Demiesius' line often involved innocence and ties through blood, while Eros was an immortal fashioned with very limited moral values. Bethania's principles more often stopped at children and women. Nabadias cared for vampires and vampires only, and Minerva had tried to mask her heart, but they'd known it was filled with regard for young people.

They each had their reasons.

Letting Eros' words sit with him instead of countering, Demiesius kept to his silence as the drive carried on. After several minutes, the blackout SUV rolled to a stop at the base of the winding road that led into Saengsacho.

With vision perfectly adjusted to the night, Demiesius and Eros were able to find appreciation in the quaint beauty that was this small village.

The far-off hanok houses spoke of their proximity to history, the green hillsides were lush under the glowing moon, and the seaside smell provided by the East Sea could be determined even with no sign of water in sight. The air was filled with the pleasantries of floral life and the salty air, and it was when Demiesius' eyes passed over the show of violets a ways up the hillside that he smelled the same agreeable scent Jeremiah had spoken of when he'd first been injected.

"Master Demiesius," the driver of the SUV said from the window, "Should I come along?"

"No," he answered. "You may leave us."

While curious about the matter, the driver silently recoiled at the tensions lifting from Demiesius and nodded his understanding. If two beings such as Eros and Demiesius stated they did not require the assistance of an ordinary immortal, then they weren't to be pestered. Instead, the driver bid his regard before nodding farewell and leaving the village in his wake.

"Shall we?" Eros said, at last able to light the tip of his cigarette. Together he and Demiesius set forth up the winding road.

While the sun was gone, that didn't mean the entire village was sleeping. There were lights on in various homes, the convenience store they'd witnessed in Ha-yoon's footage was brightly lit, and there appeared to be an assembly taking place at the community center .

Listening in from their distant approach, laughter and casual chatter was taking place.

Inhaling a drag of his cigarette, Eros let the smoke out through his nose, and said, "A birthday? We certainly won't be the life of the party."

Demiesius gave a look at the jest.

Eros shrugged, "I'm only trying to lighten the mood."

When near enough to the entry doors of the community center, the doors opened with little influence and the elders entered. A birthday banner hung from the doorframe, inflated balloons touching the ceiling, and a large portrait of an older woman sat framed on a stand.

Beyond a second set of glass double doors, a small crowd of people could be seen inside. Women, children, and men were all gathered to apparently celebrate the life of this old woman.

The moment the doors came open, the attention of everyone turned to their presence, and Demiesius immediately laid eyes on the familiar man from the footage. Mok Kyung-hwan was nearest to the back stacking chairs as the party wrapped up.

When Kyung-hwan got a glimpse of the unfamiliar faces and took in the likeness Demiesius carried with that of Jeremiah, he stopped what he was doing.

"Hello," came a small, charming voice; the old woman whom this party was for. She was smiling and hunched and was warily assisted by another. "You must have been invited by my son. He gets visitors every once in a while, but the party is over. At least help yourselves to some cake; there's too much."

Giving the woman a nod as Eros paid her no mind, Demiesius stepped around as she and the other guests filtered from the building. There were questions as to who these two strangers were and what they were doing in a place so unfrequented by foreigners, but soon it was only Mok Kyung-hwan who'd continued stacking chairs and pushing tables aside.

Demiesius wanted so badly to forget his demand for answers and to simply tear this man to pieces. He would be left without a quick response, but there were other methods he could take to obtain the same results. So long as the human brain was intact, there was no use for their mouths when desiring more.

"Let me guess," Kyung-hwan said, dusting his hands after shifting the last table closer to the wall. "You are the father of that unfortunate half-breed; come to avenge your son for how far I've caused him to fall from his potential."

Before opening his mouth, Demiesius pushed against Kyung-hwan's consciousness. His mental portals appeared to be sealed off just as Chung-hee and Hyun mentioned; his mentality couldn't be grasped against his will.

"Was that your goal?" Demiesius questioned in the man's native tongue. "To alter my son?"

"My goal?" Kyung-hwan seemed to waver back and forth. Tucking his hands in the pockets of his slacks, he paced before Eros and Demiesius, keeping his distance from these obviously hostile beings. Although his tensions couldn't be deciphered, he didn't appear to be nervous. "I had different goals before I discovered your kind. Like many, I aimed for a quiet life. That woman who spoke to you, she is my mother. I moved to this place with her and my nephew after a very tragic event."

"My turn to play the guessing game," Eros interjected, spewing smoke from his lips. "Your wife was murdered by one of our kind? If not her, let's say your father, brother, or sister, and so on and so forth. Whatever tragedy sparked your knowledge and hatred for my kind is no matter to us. Why have you taken on the odd task of extracting the blood of our kind, of apparently conjuring a toxin that lessens the potential of our offspring?"

"Has it taken hold of him entirely?" Kyung-hwan asked instead, and the smile that pulled across his face shone a brighter flame in Demiesius' eyes. The joy that showed from this person was leading him closer to a quick and very much painful death.

"I'll admit it's not something I fully understand," Kyung-hwan continued. "I only know of its power due to what it's shown me when willingly ingested by one other person. All I am positive the solution does is ravage a half-breeds array of abilities. It clearly affects their blockage of pain, but beyond that, I couldn't give you a detailed explanation if I wanted. Your half-breeds aren't so commonly thrown away by their fathers."

"You say that like you know from experience," Demiesius stated, turning from Kyung-hwan as Eros never let him leave his sights; the elder's steely eyes seemed to dare the man to make any sudden moves. He was itching for a deserved kill.

The notion of a father to a dhampir readily and willingly turning from their child was unheard of. While unlike blood children, dhampirs were more reserved creatures who required a different type of nurturing to maintain their right mindset, the absence of that control mechanism held by their father could prove drastic as well. As terrible as it may sound, dhampirs required a harness even if it might never come into use.

"Yes," Kyung-hwan answered Demiesius, taking backward steps, and he leaned against one of the tables pushed to the wall. "As a matter of fact, I do speak from experience. You see, I had a younger sister fifteen years ago. She was unruly and when she finally left home to Busan, I was glad to see her go. My mother wouldn't shut up about her, our father tried to keep in touch and sent her money, but all she would do was take the money and shun them anyways."

Taking another long drag from the lit stick between his lips, Eros brought the cigarette away and sighed. "I'm getting bored," he said in English this time. "Brother, can we be done with this and merely extract his mind? Acting like I give a shit about what he's saying is making me tick."

"Get on with it," Demiesius warned Kyung-hwan. The only reason he hadn't resulted to killing right away was an assumption that'd settled in him. If this man's mental portal was indeed impenetrable as he breathed, Demiesius feared it might be possible the path to his life's memories could be obstructed, too.

Finding humor in Eros' annoyance, Kyung-hwan smirked, and he carried on. "Some years after she left home, my sister showed up at our doorstep in Gwangju with a baby; my nephew whom I live with here wasn't something she wanted to deal with, and she brought him to drop off with my parents. My parents did their best to make him comfortable, but all he did was cry and cry, like he was crying for my sister who wanted nothing to do with him."

Kyung-hwan laughed and Demiesius thought the amusement on his face was pitiful.

"We only had him for a week, and I grew to hate him," the man went on. "When I couldn't take it anymore, my father and I took it upon ourselves to look for my sister and bring her back. I was going to threaten either throwing her nuisance of a child into an orphanage if she didn't take him, and my father would cut off her access to his money. As you can imagine, we couldn't find her. The police wouldn't do anything for us, but when I asked around her friends, they led me to this man she was obsessed with. He gave me a bad feeling the instant I met him. "

"We tend to do that," Eros said. "I'm assuming he was an immortal, yeah? What did he do? Kill her?"

"Yes," the man answered firmly. "That's exactly what he'd done when she returned to him after bringing my parent's their son, but she wasn't entirely dead; she was like him now, a…vampire. Why she would want to be a walking corpse is beyond me, but she never planned on coming back, and they wanted nothing to do with their son. Things got rough when my father tried to force her from the house. He never understood that she was different from us at that moment. It was like she was insane, and when they attacked us, I discovered the myths that follow your kind hold some truth. One knife to the heart, and they both crumbled, but not before taking the life of my father."

"Are you proud of that?" Demiesius asked. "Of killing your own sister."

"I think a more appropriate question would be if I regret it," Kyung-hwan said. "Which I don't. She was a weight lifted from my shoulders, but that didn't save me and my mother from being stuck with her son. Given my sister was still human when she gave him to us, I suspected the boy of being a half-breed, and I did what I could to find out more about your kind in case he grew up to be mad like his parents. Without connections, it's impossible to find anything, but I followed what I could until I got my answers. Blood and peace, that's all it really takes to quell the mind of a half-breed."

"I commend you for keeping him," Eros said then, a snide taste on his tongue. "Why keep him?"

"I had something curious," Kyung-hwan said, pushing away from the table he'd been leaning on, a sort of chipper appeal returning to his face. "The knowledge of your existence was both frightening and invigorating and something as destructive as a half-breed lived under my mother's roof now. I wanted to know more. In my years of discovery, I became aware of your enemies, grew to appreciate the wonders of your blood, but I was always afraid of the prospect of my nephew losing himself in what rage apparently only his father would be able to pull him out of. Imagining a monster devastating Korea made me wonder if there was anything else that could stop him if I ever needed to resort to killing him. Lucky for me, I already put a plan in place when he was much smaller just in case."

Demiesius envisioned the Pyrenean violet, its long stems and dark leaves, the delectable smell it emitted. "The flower," he said. "How did you know those would weaken his kind?"

Kyung-hwan's smile grew and he laughed, "Believe it or not, that discovery was unexpected. When what was left of my family moved to Saengsacho, the residents were very proud of their hills of violets. The Pyrenean is like their own symbol of pride and is said to disrupt evil. It was when my nephew broke his arm during that year when he experienced pain for the first time. The only difference was the tea. Outside of the annual ceremonies, he drinks it all the time thinking it will protect him from evil spirits."

"And the blood collection?" Eros added. "What the hell is that about?"

"My mother has lived with chronic pain for as long as I can remember," the man said. "I've created capsules to help, and she takes them every day. Since then, she hasn't suffered for some years now. I've kept what it is a secret, but it's very beneficial, as well as the extract that your enemies have taken an interest in. I'm sure you can guess who I introduced it to."

"I understand," Demiesius said, and he unbuttoned the cuff of his right sleeve before rolling it up. "To have told us all this, you must know you are going to die."

"I'm not dull," Kyung-hwan confessed. "Since the day I killed my sister, I always felt her shadow was trying to catch up to me. It was only a matter of time."

When Demiesius' sleeve was rolled to his elbow, he and Eros turned their attention to the doorway of the community center. There stood Sujin who looked upon them in confusion. He was so young and so ignorant, and Demiesius couldn't help feeling disappointed in the fact that this boy didn't know how great he was due to the masking of his true self. His aura was so small he felt human.

"Uncle?" the fifteen-year-old said. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt. Grandmother is asking where you are."

Returning their gaze to Kyung-hwan, Demiesius and Eros followed the journey of his hand as he withdrew a small device from his front pocket. It was black and had a singular button fit for a thumb. "She'll be alright," he said. "Goodbye, Nephew."

Before Demiesius could think to take the device from Kyung-hwan's hand, the button was pushed and when they looked toward the teenager again, a gruesome burst exploded from Sujin's chest. The open cavity sent bits of flesh and blood flying that splattered across Demiesius and Eros' face.

They watched in horror as the young dhampir's face took on a stunned expression, and he collapsed into an ocean of blood around his body. The hole blown through the front of his chest and through his back completely destroyed his heart, and it seemed the alteration brought to him from this Pyrenean stripped him from the once promising potential to withstand the trauma.

No matter the damage, aside from a decapitation, dhampirs could put themselves back together even if their heart or any amount of their body was mangled. Given the severity of the impact to his heart, Sujin was pronounced dead in an instant.

"It's best to get rid of him," Kyung-hwan said, zero remorse in his tone. "He wouldn't make it without me anyways."

In all his disgust from witnessing this unnecessary death brought to a boy so young and innocent to all this, Demiesius turned with his claws fully extended. In one clean swipe, his nails burrowed into the left part of Kyung-hwan's skull, and he tore away the entirety of the man's face, leaving only a heap of red and tissue. The clumps of flesh and pool of crimson tarnished the floor, Kyung-hwan's body immediately dropping as he shook before his heart gave out.

"What a mess," Eros said, wiping the streaks of blood from his face.

Double checking to be sure, Eros neared the fallen boy and brought a hand to his throat. With how miniscule his aura had been, the boy may as well have felt like any other human. The lack of movement was enough to pronounce permanent death, but the lack of a pulse pronounced it even louder.

"Sorry, kid," Eros said, tapping a hand on the boy's cheek before standing.

With how distressing it was to acknowledge this plant had the capabilities of rendering a creature as resilient to most things quite powerless, Eros wasn't particularly burdened by the death of this young boy he hadn't even known the name of. However, he was sorry for the truth that death could so easily reach a dhampir when certain measures were taken; when the death was committed by someone as pitiful as a human being.

He often hated them more than most.

Humans.

Callous men .

As it was known now, those same measures sat with Jeremiah; he was a proficient dhampir now infected with the substance extracted from the Pyrenean violet, and Eros knew Demiesius would spiral if death ever reached out for his family again.

Jeremiah now most of all.