Katalin leapt down from her branch, confusion on her face.
"How did you know I was there? No one knows where I am usually. Even Elder Laszlo jumps when I creep up behind him."
Vlad grunted and only shook his head in reply. "Who are you?"
"I am Katalin."
Katalin?
The name sounded familiar.
Hadn't he heard some of the fledglings talk about her? Wasn't she a Knight like Karlo?
That meant she should be part of the Court. It was unusual, but not rare, for a female to be part of the Court like this. Most became Brides.
"Why are you spying on me?"
"I wasn't spying," she snorted. "I was following."
He gave her a blank look. "It is the same thing."
"No, it isn't."
"It is."
"No."
"Yes."
He bit his lip. It was like talking to a child.
"You are annoying," he said.
"So are you."
"What do you want?"
"I want you to teach me."
His first instinct was to kick her and leave. But he noted her crimson eyes were glittering brightly. He knew that look.
It was a look of hunger.
The look of someone who had seen something they want desperately and would strive to have it no matter what. Nothing would stop her.
Only death.
"Hmph." He squatted, placing his sword across his knees. "Why should I teach you anything? I have no use for the Turkish bullshit you know."
Imitating his posture, she squatted in front of him.
Her face was mildly interesting to him. With her inquisitive expression, she looked like a mouse.
"I heard you don't like the mace," she said. "So, I threw mine away. I don't know where. I want to learn your way. The way of the sword."
"Great sword," he corrected. "It is the Black Dragon Great Sword Art."
"Black Dragon Great Sword Art?" She frowned deeply. "I haven't heard of such a thing. Did you create it?"
"No," he sighed heavily. "It is the true battle art of the Black Dragon Court. There is no better."
"Unbelievable," she breathed. "To know there is an art like this for us. I wonder why Elder Laszlo didn't teach it to us."
"Because he does not know it," Vlad said.
"That doesn't seem possible. He knows a lot about all kinds of weapons. Polearms, crossbows, axes, and shields."
"Mercenary tools," Vlad said with a sneer. He knew enough of Elder Laszlo's past to know where his teachings had come from. "He was a mercenary. A hajduk. It makes sense this is what he would teach you."
"You don't sound like you approve."
"It is wrong," Vlad hissed. "The Black Dragon Court is superior! To use such crude bullshit is an insult."
"That's why you beat up Karlo so bad?"
Vlad said nothing to that.
She wasn't wrong.
But he had a feeling the ghost of Ferenc would not have approved. He would have preferred Vlad instruct the Knight and then work with Elder Laszlo to make change.
Unfortunately, this wasn't Vlad's way.
Words weren't his weapon.
He closed his eyes, thinking. What should he do here?
"If you want to learn, I'll teach you. Come learn with the fledglings."
"Alright." She bowed down on the ground and her voice rang out. "Thank you, teacher!"
He opened his eyes and squinted at her. He'd expected her to refuse. To think she was better than them. To want private lessons.
"Hmph." He waved a hand. "If you run, you will make it back before I do. I will be training the fledglings soon."
She hopped to her feet.
Glanced once at him. Her face was bright with genuine anticipation. "You won't regret this."
He nodded.
Something in the woman's stance told him he wouldn't.
And the way she darted off told him something else. She was like him. She didn't need words to communicate.
It was easier to speak with a sword.
He smirked suddenly. It might be fun to teach her his language.
Suddenly, he glanced over his shoulder at the trees. His eyes piercing the shadows but seeing nothing there.
Frustrating.
He needed to keep working on his core.
"I am heading back to the women. I will escort them to the castle if you haven't already arranged something. It would be good to have the Renfields ready to greet them."
With that, Vlad stomped back down the path which would lead him to the three potential Dolls.
In the shadows, Elder Laszlo was on his knees scowling while Elder Amir and Count Bela had one hand each on his shoulders. Pressing him down.
"That little monkey!" Elder Laszlo almost foamed at the mouth. "Did you hear? I haven't heard such a disrespectful tone! A mere mercenary? Crude bullshit? What is this?"
"Calm," Count Bela said softly. "Take a step back, Laszlo. See the world for what it is. Didn't we tell you? We are caretakers of the Court. It has been our duty to keep it breathing until someone came along and lifted it up again."
"What are you saying? He-?"
"He knows the Black Dragon Sword Art," Elder Amir pointed out.
"Or some bullshit imitation of the Full Moon Great Sword Art!"
"Which was stolen from us!" Count Bela hissed.
Elder Laszlo looked up, shocked to hear the anger in the count's voice. Normally the count was calm and like a steady lake. Now, he was seething.
Black shadows crept along the count's skin as his shadow energy ran rampant.
He flinched from the count.
Who grunted and the shadow energy was swiftly withdrawn. "Apologies, Laszlo. It has been a terrible secret I have carried for many years. But the lost Great Sword Art was not forgotten. It was stolen."
"How?"
"When the library was looted," Elder Amir said. "And the last who knew the art died defending it. There were none who could teach it."
"It's why we searched for someone like you. Someone with battle skills. We hoped…" The count sighed. "We hoped to at least be able to defend ourselves for a time. At least it would form a foundation to build another art."
"I failed, then," Elder Laszlo said. "My skills are inferior to the Court. What will become of me?"
"You think too hard," Elder Amir chuckled. "The boy is not a teacher, Elder Laszlo. He is a brute. A monster. He will perhaps lead the way with strength and blood, but we need people to transfer his knowledge to the young ones. This way, we will grow."
"You want me to learn from him?" Elder Laszlo looked shaken. "Become a student? What would that look like?"
"Are you concerned? Elder Laszlo, I am almost ninety years old, and I feel like I haven't scratched the surface of all the things I could learn."
"Be humble, Laszlo," the count said with a gentle voice. He patted the kneeling vampire's shoulder. "One must know one's weakness as well as their strength. How else can you get stronger?"
"Tch."
But he knew the count was right.
Still.
Learn from that monkey? Was such a thing even possible?
"My life," he sighed as he was left alone to his thoughts. "Is just bullshit."
Katalin bounded from tree to tree like the monkey Elder Laszlo thought Vlad was.
She didn't bother to merge with the shadows to do so. She revelled instead in the sheer physicality of leaping. The moment of weightlessness followed by the violent halt before spearing out again into the crisp night air.
Her heart was racing with anticipation.
Young Ist had told her they used training sticks, and she'd already snatched one of her own from a fine old tree.
She'd even imitated the first step she'd been shown already, but something was wrong. It didn't have the same power she'd seen in Tibor's movement.
Soaring over the ground, she grinned.
Vlad would show her what to do. He'd probably beat her a few times, too.
She'd watched him beat one of the others to pulp.
The fledgling had to be carried to Elder Amir, blood drooling from his slack jaw.
How many times would that happen to her?
She itched for it.
The chance to feel defeat. It was like acid in her mouth. If she could be defeated so thoroughly, it would mean there was still a great journey ahead of her.
She passed a few nervous fledglings whose gazes were fixed on the terrain ahead of them. Normally, she'd drop down on top of them and beat them for being so useless. They should be searching the trees as much as the forest's floor.
But she was too gleeful for that sort of business.
Instead, she pulled a handful of rocks from her pocket and threw them hard as she raced past.
Their cries of pain made her laugh.
It did make her think, though. When she cried in pain, did it also sound so pathetic?
She licked her lips. Vlad would show her if it was true.