Cyrn wakes up the next morning, dangling from the tree in a pose reminiscent of a certain floating "Honored One".
He wakes up confused and scrambles — a little too much — and falls.
He hears a sickening CRACK! Echo through his body, pain radiating from his right arm and leg, the limbs he landed on.
"FUUUUCK!" he screams out into the wilderness, yet before he can further wallow in his pain, he sees his leg and arm moving again, and feels bone fusing with bone under his skin in mere seconds.
The pain was akin to setting a bone correctly when it's broken out of line; it hurt like hell, but the waves of agony subsided after a few moments, and Cyrn remembers why he was in a tree in the first place.
Right, vampire, new world, yada yada yada, his inner monologue sounded just as exhausted as one would imagine.
He's still not thinking of Gregory, or at least trying not to. Let me gather my bearings first before I search for some other world shrinks or therapists.
Cyrn was currently in the middle of a forest, with no idea where he was or how to get anywhere.
He begins to walk in what he vaguely remembers as the same direction he was going in earlier, though he's not that sure.
Whatever, if I just keep moving, I'll have to run into something or someone eventually. Hopefully someone.
As he walks, which slowly turns into a run, he begins to take in his surroundings, assessing them in greater detail than last night.
The trees, grass, and soil all look the same as back on Earth. Gravity is similar to that of so this planet is probably similar in size. Besides that weird ghoul or wight or whatever, the ecosystem seems to be a carbon copy of home.
Cyrn wasn't a botanist, or even grow up around plants. He was a city boy born and raised, but he knew enough about ecological science to draw some vague conclusions.
I'm still breathing with a blue sky above me, so a similar atmospheric composition, unless the vampire body adapted to not taking in oxygen.
Thoughts just like these kept running through Cyrn's head, drawing similarities between Earth and whatever planet he was on currently, and they were similar, or at least similar enough to sustain life.
Ok I can assume this place is pretty similar to Earth. Knights were scattering the battlefield I woke up in.
The image of the gruesome field Cyrn woke up in flashes in his mind again, and he feels queasy and depressed just thinking about it.
Fuck I don't want to think about this. However, this desire falls on deaf ears, as the image stays in his mind for much longer than he is comfortable with.
Before Cyrn can dwell on it any further, he hears running water in the distance.
Yes, a river! And the river might mean people! Cyrn's face visibly brightens with hope as he begins to run towards the sound.
He arrives at the river a few minutes later, and it is much farther than he imagined, but perhaps his hearing has been enhanced after the whole vampire transformation.
He stares down at the water, yet for not having drunk anything in about 24h, he's not thirsty at all. Guess I really do feed on blood now, I just hope it's not only human blood, but gods would become complicated quickly.
The logistics of having to feed on humans in secret swims in his brain for a moment before being interrupted by a rustling of bushes he hears.
His head snaps, and much further down the river, he sees a boar. A MASSIVE boar, easily the size of a bear if not larger. It has three horns growing out of its head, and it is lapping up water as Cyrn stares at the weird creature.
What the hell am I looking at? This thought doesn't last long, however, as Cyrn was seemingly thinking too loudly, as the boar's head snaps and directly stares at Cyrn.
The eye contact is uncomfortable, but Cyrn isn't too worried.
We're very far away right now. I'm on the other side of the river, I'm doing nothing to provoke it right now, there's no way this boar is going to come - fuck its coming right at me.
Once again, this seemingly mind-reading boar took offense to Cyrn's internal monologue and started charging at him while crossing the river.
Cyrn is still carrying the sword he found laying in the battlefield, and with Gregory's sword skills, he was very confident in his ability to handle this giant thing.
It'll be fine, instinct will take over just like last time, and I'll slice porky pig up into tonight's dinn-
His thoughts cut short as the boar rams into his body, hitting him with pain worse than anything he's ever felt. He crashes straight through a tree and skips on the floor before coming to rest.
He coughs and tries to breathe, the wind knocked out of him
What the fuck happened to my sword skills? Did they wear off or something???
His body was actively regenerating as he saw the boar begin its charge at him once again.
Ok, ok, don't panic, I don't have all the sword skills anymore, but I should remember the move I used against that ghoul wight thing.
Cyrn stands up again, planting his feet into the ground, trying to mimic the sword stance he used yesterday.
It was clumsy, his feet and legs felt uncomfortable, but it was something.
The boar continues to charge, and Cyrn tries to recreate the side step slash he had used yesterday.
It was clumsy, like an amateur trying to recreate an expert. His feet land weirdly, his hips are stiff, knees locked straight, but it lands.
A cut crosses the boar's neck, not enough to decapitate it, but enough to leave a cut that shouldn't be ignored.
Cyrn smiles at the sight. Ok, my body vaguely remembers how to use what I copied, but only if I used it before. I'm sure that if I practiced more with Gregory's sword techniques, I'd be much better off.
Cyrn was beginning to get a grasp on how this pseudo-copy ability of his worked.
The boar stopped after the cut landed. It turned and looked at Cyrn, its fight or flight response firing off in its brain, deciding whether to commit to this fight or flee while it still could.
It chose the former.
The boar started another charge in Cyrn's direction, slower than before.
Cyrn smiled smugly at the sight. Perfect, I'll do the same side step attack and finally kill this thing.
As the boar approached, Cyrn stepped to the same side as last time; however, because of the boar's slower speed, it was able to react accordingly, slowing down even further before swinging its head towards Cyrn, its horn piercing his stomach before he fell to the ground.
This now, this was pain. White-hot searing pain.
Cyrn was on the ground, wide-eyed and speechless. The last 24h have been the most painful thing he'd ever gone through. He didn't know how or why he was going through all this, just that it really fucking hurt.
He lay on the ground, his stomach stitching itself back together, the pain subsiding just the faintest bit to allow him to think. I can't believe I was fooled by a fucking pig.
Rage and frustration filled his body; he was definitely killing this damn creature, one way or another.
The boar walked over to Cyrn's body, its animal mind thinking it had already killed him. He approaches the corpse, opening its mouth, about to bite into it, when suddenly, the roof of its mouth blooms, in pain, and everything goes black.
Cyrn's arm was extended, sword in hand. He played dead, making the boar thing he was ready to be eaten. When it finally opened its mouth, he drove his sword with all the might he could muster into the damn pig's brain.
The boar stiffens its body before it falls over. Cyrn stands over its corpse, a smug smile blooming across his face.
"Fuck you, you stupid piece of bacon". He says triumphantly. However, before he can bask in this hard-fought victory, he smells something. A scent all too familiar to him.
The boar's blood was flowing from its neck, and Cyrn's mind went hazy. He falls to his knees again and begins to drink the animal's blood.
It scratches an itch, but not enough, not nearly enough. His stomach seals mid-feeding. The blood is already working.
Memories begin to flood his mind. Nothing special, just eating, drinking, and fighting.
Cyrn pulled away from the corpse, panting. His tongue was still tracing the tusks. His vision sharpened, his thoughts... dulled. He could still feel the heat of the chase in his limbs, and for a second, all he wanted was to run, to hunt, to fight
A few moments pass before he's snapped back to reality, a small headache returning for round two.
So every time I drink blood, I inherit the 'donors' identity, and some of their skills. With Gregor,y I got his sword skills. I wonder what the boar gave me?
He thinks about this ability, the absurdity of "Drinking Memories" or "Inheriting Identities," and chuckles to himself. Silas would be laughing his ass off right now.