In the hospital room, Ryker was staring at his phone.
His actual mother's last message was echoing in his mind.
How was he supposed to use ice magic if he was a space magic vampire? The thought was a complete paradox.
Unlike dryads who had nature and usually healing. Vampires had one magic and bat transformation
A knock on the door interrupted his inner turmoil. The door opened and Brock was walking in, a figure was seen outside the door, sitting on the pristine floors, her face was buried in her knees.
"Hey Ryke," Brock's usually booming voice was now quiet, careful, "Heard you had a rough night."
The golem went over to the pitcher of water on the nightstand and poured a glass, handing it to him. His movements were gentle, a stark contrast to his usual boisterous energy.
"Hey Brock," Ryker replied, his gaze fixed on the familiar figure in the hallway, that was Liv.
Brock noticed his gaze but decided not to press the issue. Yet.
"You look better than expected."
"An S-rank healer stopped by," Ryker said, flexing the fingers of his restored hand. The flesh was new, pale, and the scars were completely gone. But the memory of the pain was seared into his mind.
His friend raised an eyebrow, asking him silently to elaborate.
"My biological mother sent one."
The glass in Brock's hand slipped. He fumbled, managing to catch it before it hit the floor with a series of loud clatters. The water splashed onto the floor.
"Fuck," Brock cursed, setting the glass down. He sat on the chair by the bed, his usual playful demeanor replaced by a serious, almost rigid focus.
"They lied to me for 18 years," Ryker said, his own voice surprising him with its lack of emotion. It was a flat dead thing.
"So that's why Liv is a mess outside."
Ryker simply nodded, a heavy silence settling between them.
"What now? Are you going to go live with her?" Brock asked. He didn't need to know who his mother was for the question to make sense.
A chuckle, dry and humorless.
"Not really an option. She's kind of a psychopath," Ryker said, looking down at his now perfect but traitorous right hand.
Brock stared at Ryker, "Then you'll forgive them, right? I assume they did it to protect you from her."
"Should I?" he met Brock's gaze.
For once, the golem had no answer.
"How could I ever trust them again?" the question hung in the air.
"It was such a stupid thing to keep hidden. I wouldn't have cared," he scoffed, "I mean I would've freaked out at being a Dracula. But breaking my trust..."
Brock placed a heavy, comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Do you love them?"
He bit his lips
"Of course I do," he answered.
"Then forgive them," Brock said with such simplicity.
Ryker shook his head, "Forgiving them isn't the problem. It's trusting them again. That's the hard part."
"What about Anna then? Are you capable of trusting her again?" the golem asked.
His thoughts went back to the dungeon. The fight, the bite. Then he stared out at the birds flying and chirping outside, searching for an answer. Anna didn't technically lie to him but did he really want to think about technicalities now?
"She's different," he settled on saying, "She was doing it for her family."
"So were they."
With that one question, Brock's solid, unwavering loyalty cut through Ryker's anger, making his perspective crumble.
"You know Ryke, I've wanted to say something for a while now," Brock leaned back, crossing his arms, "You have been lying to yourself for a long time too."
"What?" Ryker shot back.
"All the bullshit about being happy with studying mana research, about settling for a desk job, that's a lie too."
A punch came for him. It didn't land hard, more a gesture of frustration.
"Why did you give up so easily Ryke? Why didn't you fight harder?" Brock stood up, "If you say lack of magic I'll punch you for real."
Brock never gets angry so this was new and surprising.
Ryker averted his gaze, scratching his head.
"We spent nights thinking of how to awaken your magic. We applied for fucking clinical trials for disabled vampires. You didn't show up to a single one."
The golems words cut deep because they were true.
"You even settled for fake blood so you'd never be tempted to drink from someone," the golem's frustration was evident.
He hated it, hated being seen so clearly. Hated that Brock had known all along and had just been waiting.
"It was easier," he finally admitted.
A sigh came from Brock and he relaxed, sitting back down.
"Look man, lying isn't always about malice. Sometimes it's about fear. Your mom and Liv... they were terrified of her. And you... you were terrified of failing."
Ryker didn't respond. He just stared at his hands, the one that had been regrown and the one he'd had all his life.
"So what are you going to do?"
His insides felt like it was vibrating. His pulse began to race, a nervous energy building that demanded an outlet. A thrill of anticipation mixed with dread. He'd never admit this to anyone but the vision of Dracula on the throne, of that raw, destructive power... it excited him. And that scared him more than anything.
The door swung open before he could answer. Anna stepped in, her braids slightly disheveled, a small bat in her hands. It was Liv. She looked pale even in bat form, her tiny ears twitching nervously. Anna had a frown on her face.
Neither of the boys said anything as Anna stomped towards the bed, disbelief and anger warring on her face.
"Why was she outside, alone, crying?"
It wasn't really a question. It was an accusation.
"I needed some space," Ryker said, "We're... figuring things out."
"You don't push family away when you're 'figuring things out', Ryker!" she retorted, her blue eyes blazing.
Liv was placed gently on Ryker's chest and she was staring at him
A silent plea.
Please don't leave me alone.