An outcast.
That's what I am. Born from two different kind; neither one nor the other. A veilwalker, the in-between that should have never been born.
"That's her, right? The veilwalker." A sharp whisper escaped from a young woman to the lady at her side. She was promptly nudged into silence, her companion turning away and refusing to meet my gaze.
I tugged the cloak wrapped around my head, desperate to erase my features from view. Nearly everyone I passed veered away at once, as if I were a plague they wanted no part of.
It was obvious. They did not want me here. I mean, who would ever welcome someone who never belonged to their world to begin with? The difference between us was carved too deeply to be ignored.
As I continued towards my destination for the day, a few more whispers reached me, slipping through the air like blades.
"Why is that woman here?" a woman holding a basket of fruits asked.
"How shameless of her to come back," another muttered while uncovering his cart.
"Good riddance to her twin—one less nuisance in this world," a young lad deliberately said loud enough for me to hear.
My hand curled into a fist at the last remark. Heat flared in my chest, sharp and violent, urging me to strike back. But I know better—violence is never the answer. It would only feed their hatred. Instead, I swallowed the impulse whole and stared at the young lad.
I fixed my gaze on her, unblinking. The moment she met my eyes, she faltered. Fear rippled through her, visible in the way her pupils quivered, in how her fingers dug desperately into the fabric of her dress as though it might save her. Her heart pounded inside her chest, and I could almost hear it.
"What are you looking at?" she demanded.
But her voice shook. However, I did not say a word and just pull the cloak to cover my visible eyes, hiding them.
———————
I took a few more steps toward the far end of the flea market before turning into a dimly lit alley on the right. There, I found my destination—SimbodAntiqueShop.
It was a small store tucked into the corner of the market. Customers rarely come here; no one had much interest in antiques. Most people believed they were cursed, steeped in black magic. A few had even complained, demanding the shop to be shut down, but to no avail. It continued to operate.
A few other shops were also around here: jewelry boutique, potion store, pet store, and spellbook library.
Before entering, I pushed back the cloak covering my head, letting my long, plain white hair fall freely. I folded the cloak and rested it over my arm before finally pushing the shop door open. The chime rang as it swung ajar.
"Welcome to Simbod—"
Simbod, the shop's owner, stopped mid-greeting the moment he saw me. The polite smile on his fave vanished, replaced by a glint of excitement in his eyes. The corner of his lips curled upward, revealing a glimpse of his white teeth.
"Greetings, Your Highness Syraeth," he said. "Princess of the in-between, daughter of the dark and light, the veilwalker."
As always, he struck his signature pose—one hand tucked behind his back, the other pressed to his chest, feet slightly crossed as he bowed.
"That's never funny, Simbod," I said, shaking my head at his theatrics.
"That's half the truth, you know. I mean, your mother was supposed to be queen, if not because of your, uh...father?" Simbod scratched the back of his head, clearly unsure of his words.
"Yeah. Father," I replied. No matter how twisted the world was, that man was still my father. Even if my parents never loved each other, even if everything between them had been wrong, he was still my father.
"As I was saying," Simbod continued, "you're technically a princess."
"Uh-huh?" I shrugged. I wasn't convinced. "Technically. But I am not. I'm just... no one."
Simbod rolled his eyes, jumped over the counter, and strode toward me. "It's not your fault," he said, taking my cloak from my arm and hanging it on the rack near the door. He shook it out. "They're forced that night it happened." He then said as he pulled a chair across the counter and gestured for me to sit. "Anyway, any news about your twin?"
"I don't know." I shook my head. "I haven't found even a trace of here anywhere I go. I'm really worried, because what if..." I couldn't finish the thought. The possibility was too unbearable to voice out.
Simbod disappeared through a door to the left. The air in the shop felt heavier while I waited. Moments later, he returned, holding a bowl on his hand.
The instant I smelled what it was, my throat went dry, and yet my mouth watered. Every instinct screamed at me. Something about it always awakens my father's side of me. My fingers itched to grab it from Simbod, my eyes locked on it as he put it on the counter.
The aroma invaded my senses, my heartbeat quickened, and a shiver ran down my spine. I was starving. I could not wait for it to touch my lips and satiate my hunger. And without further hesitation, my trembling hands reached for the bowl and the liquid finally touched my lips.
"Easy there, princess," Simbod commented on the side.
As soon as the blood trickled down my throat, I felt the gray in my eyes begin to shift. My vision, once devoid of white, grew even clearer.
As the blood coursed through my veins, I could feel the changes spreading through my body: my heartbeat slowly losing its beat, the color of my eyes turning black, and my hair darkened. I could feel my hunger slowly being satiated.
When the bowl of blood was empty, I slowly set it back on the counter and took a deep breath. I caught sight of my reflection in the glass cabinet in front of me.
Nothing grand had happened, to be honest. My half-blood features had just softened a bit. The paper-white hair I was born with had turned black, and the white pupils I had from birth had deepened to black. Even my pointed ears had returned to a 'normal' shape.
I looked...normal. I looked like I belonged somewhere. But my snow-white pale skin hadn't changed —a distinct feature that could easily mark me as a vampire. But at least now, I had somewhere to belong.
"Wow," Simbod's mouth dropped open. "I'm still always amazed every time you transform. From a walking snowman princess to a decent half-breed."
I let out a chuckle at his humor. "Shut up."
—————
For a while, Simbod and I talked about a few things—how the search for my missing twin was going, where I was currently living. I also asked him about how his shop was going, and as usual, he complained about people who still grumbled about his shop, even though it had never done anything to them.
The bowl of pig's blood had long been cleared from the counter. Instead, a warm cup of mint tea was served to wash the away the lingering smell of blood. Difficult as it was, this might be the witch's territory, but every now and then, some vampires wandered into the flea market to buy some fresh fruit. Some even dropped by for antique furniture. Typical vampire habits.
After a while, I said goodbye to Simbod. Our conversation had lasted longer than I realized, and looking outside, the sky was starting to darken. Nighttime was dangerous —many creatures of the night will soon start to roam freely, especially since I lived beyond the borders.
"Take care. My shop's always open whenever you need food," Simbod said, bidding farewell.
I smiled and open the door; the chime rang. "See you."
Before stepping outside, I tossed him a gold coin. He caught it immediately, eyes widening in surprise. He was about to say something, but I had already closed the door and wrapped my cloak back over my head—force of habit.
I hadn't gone far when a strange aura brushed against me from behind. It was daunting, as if it were tugging at my soul and draining the strength from my body. I had never felt anything like it before. I tried to ignore it but my curiosity gets the better of me. But when I turned around, all I saw was the silhouette of a man stepping toward the antique shop.