When the flow of information from a man ran out, I decided to make another diabelleery, but I couldn't let Alof go anyway, and even for those sins that he had done, he was threatened with a gallows. However, even if he were an angel to embody nothing would have changed, I was well aware that I was cynical enough, narcissistic and indifferent enough to kill an innocent person if it would benefit me. And I wasn't even going to write it off as an experience of my own death, nor was I going to cover it up with circumstances. I am capable of doing this myself, not because someone forced me to do it.
This time it was even a normal thing. With the onset of the night Alof was disabled, and I really felt euphoria, but there was no confusion or madness, and a la "I'll kill all by myself" and "I'll kill the sea on my knee" was not. Only I am exhausted in the whole body, as after a good training, as well as a pleasant tension in the energy channels.
Although one side effect was still apparent - right after the diabelleery my sensitivity to sunlight increased significantly, making it almost impossible even to approach the entrance doorway in the daytime. The snow has already fallen out and the blinding white blanket without it caused a lot of trouble, bringing to naught all the effect of cloudy weather, and then it became quite difficult. However, two days later, everything returned to the same level, and a few days later the sensitivity was reduced, although I had no desire to check how much I had become "heat-resistant" in practice.
However, the forecasts about the complication of the food issue began to be more and more clearly justified. While I had Alof, who had to be fed, so that he wouldn't bend over before the time, it was still possible to pretend that the whole thing was about him, although it was clear to me that a man couldn't claim the blood I needed, doing a great job, practically useless for me meat. But time to learn the language, the questioning itself, practice in telepathy...
In general, it was possible to pretend that you do not notice the obvious, but now ...
In a good way, it was necessary to catch some more "languages", to check the data, to think carefully, but there were two "but":
- The first - to me already two times lucky with an attack on the armed camp and a quiet departure, to tempt destiny further is too risky. They will track me down in the afternoon, at the place of rest, and only die.
- The second - interrogation of new captives will occupy time and it is doubtful, that it will be less than just spent, and with food that problems already now!
From this perspective, it was unreasonable to drag the decision out, and having weighed everything for and against it, I decided that it would be better for me to move towards Teriamara:
- firstly, it is much closer to the Moon's Sea
- secondly, the probability of running into some strong magician among the orcs or crossing with one of the killer guilds or a thieves' clan is much lower. And there is hope that the orcs will treat the vampire more easily than ordinary people.
- Thirdly, Teriamar was an underground city, which significantly reduced the danger for me to fry in the sun, and this in itself is a very weighty argument.
There were, however, their disadvantages: teachers normal there, too, but now I was more concerned about survival, and the basics of magic, I hope, any orcanian shaman can teach me.
The training camp didn't take long and I closed the cave entrance with an impromptu door made of lapnik and branches, so I set off on my way. The familiar road did not bring any surprises, except for snowdrifts on the knee and maniacal desire to get into the snow in boots, pants, and gates, where to begin to melt perniciously, as if with a lively, sadistic pleasure making me feel every drop flowing down. A special chic moment was brought to the end by the swollen boots, the feeling of dryness in which has long been almost an elitist exception to everyday life. I would have liked to change them, but only the last prisoners did not have boots at all, the same thing that they hid their legs in, I was ashamed to count even to the legs.