Ведан

The people of the wounded disappeared.When the sun sat down, those who were lucky enough to live behind strong doors hurried back into their homes, pushing all the bolts and latches.They closed their windows and sat around warm fire, listening to strange noises outside.For those who do not have a home, the night was really dark.Street residents cast alarmed glances at the moonlight, squeezing into the niches or by barrels in order to at least somehow hide.The cloud of mistrust and hostility enveloped the townspeople, and they resolutely and severely rejected any tramp who asked for asylum.Street residents and travelers are too poor to afford to spend the night in the hotel.A few days later they will be found casually abandoned in some kind of lane or in someone’s backyard, their corpses were dry, and the skin resembled the old parchment. Count Vedan was the last person who could be suspected.A nobleman of stunning wealth and privileges - what motives can he have?He never needed anything, his life was so luxurious that the average man could hardly have imagined this.However, one thing could not be bought.He perfectly understood that the great equalizer, death, did not care about his wealth no more than the poverty of others.The idea that once death would come for him was offensive, and he began to indignantly penetrate into dark arts, trying to avoid the inevitable. Over time, efforts, threats and huge money, he accumulated a small library of prohibited knowledge.His regiment from dusty volumes and blood stained with blood contained such a damn information that if they were found, they would have burned at the stake, regardless of its position or influence.It was after the assimilation of this knowledge that he saw two orphans.His intuition told him that they would be useful, and he always trusted his intuition. He took them, Sylvina and Isabella, back to his estate.Having won their trust in smiles, gifts and hot dishes, he brought them to the library.Having ordered them to take old volumes and read them aloud, his smile acquired a manic character.He listened carefully how the young girl muttered the ancient words as smoothly as if she had read this passage a hundred times ago.The room darkened, the candles trembled, and the incorporeal whisper danced around the trinity. This girl had a gift that he could use.Under the guardianship of Vedana Isabella, she developed a ritual that would allow Vedan to live until there are non -suspicious sources of food.The blood of the townspeople will become the vital power of another, the highest being. The eldest will serve as a more brutal goal.It was not difficult to recognize its strength and callousness.She could do great things with the help of a blade and some training. The huge estate that Vedan occupied began to look like all empty houses, ceasing to demonstrate this intangible energy of life inside.By the time someone decided to conduct an investigation, the estate had long been abandoned.Now only thousands of bats live here, who from time to time swarming at dusk over the Rankhorn, always foreshadowing the next disappearance. "Death for the poor."