Gil yawned as he leaned back in the chair with his feet on the table. It was the same chair that he had sat on while having that productive talk with Medea. The only difference being that it had already been five whole days since then.
Right now, he was bored out of his mind. He had already explored most of the interesting places in the village and unless he wanted to toil on the farmlands, there was nothing left for him to do. And for someone who was used to having constant distractions at the tip of his fingers, this situation was complete torture. He couldn't even play CoG right now because it would be a huge hassle if someone saw him fiddling with a mysterious metallic object.
He yawned again and shifted himself into a more comfortable position. For being a supposed vampire lair, Medea's manor sure had some nice chairs. The bed was also quite comfortable, with a soft mattress and curtains surrounding the bedframe, giving him some much-needed privacy. What were these fancy beds called again?
"Canopy beds," Figment said with a lethargic tone.
"Thanks, encyclopedia kid," Gil said with a smile. At least he wasn't alone in his suffering.
His gaze drifted towards the only other person in the room, Brigit. She was one of the locals hired by Medea to maintain the mansion and keep it presentable. Her duties included everything from cleaning the manor to cooking their food and even taking care of the sick Lord, named Fithel.
Even though Brigit spent the majority of her time at the manor, Medea was strangely adamant about not letting her stay here. She had also dismissed all the other servants Lord Fithel used to keep around, and it was one of the first things she had done upon arriving in this village.
As for the lack of guards, the lord never felt it was necessary and Medea didn't see it as a worthwhile investment to hire any. Well, it's not like she could hire any even if she wanted to. Any man capable enough to stand on own legs had already been conscripted by the army and the only men left behind were either old, crippled or just too young to carry iron spears or swords.
He had been curious about that whole conscription event, but as he had expected, asking Medea had led nowhere. All he managed to get out of her mouth was that the kingdom required more men for the war. As for what the significance of this war was, she replied with her signature, "I do not know."
The indifference demonstrated by the kingdom and the higher-ups involved honestly surprised him. They might just have condemned an entire village to gradual destruction, but as long as they got some cannon fodder to fight in their war, they couldn't care less about such matters.
Medea didn't appear very concerned either, but then again he had not seen her care about anything in the first place.
Brigit must have noticed his excessive ogling because she stopped what she was doing and flashed him a bright smile. He didn't need to read her mind to figure out what the smile implied.
He averted his gaze, suddenly aware of his mistake. A mistake he did not want to repeat.
Actually, he had a perfectly valid reason as to why he was loitering inside the vampire manor instead of staying at Almha's place.
Despite Medea's offer, Gil had kept his word to spend the night at Almha's humble abode.
But, much to his astonishment, Almha had expected a few things in return for her favour. It wasn't anything mundane like money or his help on the farm, no, the "things" she expected were related to how the night was to be spent.
So when a girl saunters into your room wearing clothes that reveal more skin than your average Hollywood actress, you know something has gone horribly wrong. But, you know the shit has hit the fan when that girl is hoping for something to pop out of her belly after nine months.
Something about doing her part in helping rebuild the village.
Gil's throat went dry at the image of a bunch of kids resembling him running around. He was a twenty-year-old university student for god's sake! He had a whole decade or two ahead of him before he even started thinking about kids or marriage.
In the end, he had snuck out before she could corner him and had come knocking on Medea's door in the middle of the night.
He was about to leave the room when he heard the soft thud of footsteps approach and much to his relief, Medea showed up, looking as perfect as always. She must have spent hours getting ready because nobody looked that good in the mornings.
Medea spotted him lounging on the chair like a half-dead fish. She froze for a quick second before recovering and waved Brigit out of the room.
"I hope your accommodations are adequate? I would not want my guest to experience anything less than the best hospitality I can offer," she said, definitely not in a sarcastic tone.
"Well, it's not bad. Better than sleeping under the trees while the mosquitoes eat you alive, I can tell you that much," Gil said. He stretched his arms while trying to stifle another yawn.
Medea watched him for a moment, probably trying to figure out how to voice the thoughts that had been eating her alive. But, Gil wasn't about to give her a chance.
"What's wrong? Do I have something on my face?" he asked with half-lidded eyes.
He still couldn't believe how brazen he was behaving in someone's home. Even though he had changed, it still felt wrong to act like this on an instinctual level. He from a few weeks ago would have been horrified and second-guessing himself about what kind of awful impression he was leaving on other people.
"I am wondering if we have met before," she said. "I would like to apologize if my assumptions are wrong, but from the very first moment, you have been behaving a little too, intimate. Like an acquaintance."
"What?! Medea, how could you forget me? We've known each other for hundreds of lifetimes! But, just to make it clear, we weren't lovers or anything, alright? I just had high standards," Gil said. He realized that boredom could make one do a lot of stupid things.
Medea stared at him with impassive eyes and Gil, not wanting to back down, stared back at her. He did his best to mimic her usual blank expression, but he didn't have years of practice like Medea. Several seconds passed in their silent showdown, but Gil's mask finally cracked. He couldn't restrain a smirk from breaking out, ending their small confrontation.
"I was joking, no need to get all riled up. Jeez," Gil said.
But, his words drew no response from Medea and she carried on staring at him in silence.
'Is she mad? Maybe, I took the joke a little too far.'
"Alright, fine. You win," he sighed. Some people had no sense of humour. "And no, we've never met before. Our meeting five days ago was also the first for me. But, when I first laid my eyes on you, I had this feeling like two pieces of a puzzle had just clicked together."
Some incredible crap spewed out his mouth like it was the most natural thing ever. But, the real reason his behaviour towards her had changed was due to two reasons. First, he had interacted with her a lot more than she could remember, especially that one iteration where he had revealed himself as an Outsider.
He had hidden his identity again was so no complications could arise when the group of travellers showed up.
And second, he just wanted to get back at Medea for all the mean things she had done. She had poisoned his tea, led him on before dashing his hopes and just generally being very unhelpful. He deserved to at least this much in compensation.
"Is that what the peasants call, 'love at first sight?'" Medea asked. Gil wasn't sure if she had believed him, but it would be fine as long as she asked no more questions.
"No, like I said, I have higher standards."
They glared at each other again, making their mutual dissatisfaction clear. However, this time Medea broke the silence first.
"It appears that distractions constantly cause our conversations to become," she mulled over her words, "unfruitful."
"Really? I thought it was the norm rather than an exception."
"Hm, this might seem odd, but let me ask you something."
"When did you ever require any permission to ask me anything?" Gil asked sarcastically.
"Right, I will take that as a yes," she continued. "Do you believe in curses?"
Gil sat up straight at that. This was the first time Medea had ever taken an initiative to broach a new subject, and he was mighty interested in anything that could fend off his boredom.
"Curses? Like the superstitious kind? Well no, not really, but it's a wide world out there so who knows," Gil shrugged.
"Yes, the superstitious kind. The kind that makes the dead rise out of their graves."
"A zombie apocalypse?!" Figment woke up out his reverie with a start. "Holy crap! We need to prepare our supplies, locate weapon caches and secure a safe house! Quick get a move on!"
'Wait, hang on! This isn't even Earth so how do we know if dead aren't supposed to rise from their grave?'
"Oh, yeah. That's a good point," Figment calmed down. "But still, this is better than sitting on my figurative ass all day long."
"It sounds inconceivable, but the villagers are insistent that a curse is the cause of all this," Medea said.
"Are you telling me that a bunch of dead people are walking around in broad daylight?"
"No," she said, "but the villagers have found some unsettling evidence."
"Alright, and where do I fit into this whole thing? Shouldn't it be the Lord's duty to solve like these?" Gil asked, genuinely curious about why she brought up this topic.
"Does this not resolve your current problem?" she shrugged. "After all, you have been rather despondent for the last few days so a distraction might prove helpful."
"You're trying to cheer me up?" Gil asked, his eyes wide in shock.
"Is it that unbelievable?"
"Yes. It's even more unbelievable than the dead coming back to life," he replied in a serious tone.
"Should I assume I have been refused?" Medea asked, the corners of her lips twitching ever so slightly at his response.
"No! I never said that!" Gil interjected. "Now, what exactly is this evidence you were talking about?"
"Just see for yourself," she said and stood from the chair. Gil followed after her, but had to stop as she turned around and asked with a small frown, "are you absolutely sure we have not met?"
***
Gil and Medea made their way to the cemetery which was purposely situated on the opposite side of the village from the lord's manor. Their walk took them through the middle of the village where the women and the children stared at them in unabashed curiosity.
"Hey, why aren't most of these people working on their farms?" Gil asked curiously. It was already midday, so a gathering of this many people inside the village was somewhat odd.
"It is due to the Sedes day. It's a unique tradition of this village dating back centuries," she said. "On the first day of every month, the villagers gather in the temple to offer prayers to the Creator and they also take this day to unwind."
She put a slight emphasis on the last word and gave him a side glance.
"However, since the conscription, much of the festivities surrounding the day have dried up. Now, the day is a constant reminder of the bleak future that awaits them," she continued.
"What a bummer," Figment said as if looking at a bunch of hungry mutts.
"Couldn't you have prevented it from happening? I'm sure the words of a noble have at least some weight," Gil said.
"No, it was not worth the cost," she said and went quiet, ending their discussion.
The temple's bell tolled in the background, mixing with the papery whispering of the villagers to create a tranquil scene where only the two of them existed.
They ended up walking the rest of the way in complete silence, both lost in their own worlds.