Knowledge Is Power: The Last Reader

The world seemed to slow down.

Aria couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. She was frozen, caught in her brother’s gaze, waiting for the moment of recognition, the moment when everything would fall apart.

But Vise just frowned, his brow furrowing.

"Do I know you?" he asked, his voice carrying a note of confusion. "You look familiar. Like someone I used to know."

Aria opened her mouth to answer, but Kelme was faster.

"She’s my sister," he said smoothly, putting a hand on Aria’s shoulder. "She’s been sick for a while. We’ve been traveling to find a cure. We’re just passing through."

Vise studied them for a moment longer, his eyes narrowing. Then he shrugged.

"Must be my imagination," he said. "Sorry to bother you."

He turned away, and Aria felt the tension drain from her body. She was safe. For now.

But as she watched Vise settle back into his seat, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t over.

He knows, she thought. Maybe not consciously. Maybe not yet. But something in him recognized me.

She looked at Kelme, and he met her eyes with a grim expression.

"We need to leave," he said. "Now."

Aria nodded, rising from her seat. She cast one last glance at her brother—the brother who’d sold her, who’d tried to use her, who’d treated her like nothing more than a bargaining chip—and felt something cold and hard settle in her chest, I don’t know how yet but I will watch you die again.

I’ll deal with you later, she thought. But first, I have a vampire to kill.

The night air was cool against Aria’s skin as she and Kelme slipped through the winding streets of the capital. The mask sat comfortably on her face, a constant reminder that she wasn’t herself right now—she was someone else, someone anonymous, someone who could disappear into the crowd at a moment’s notice.

But the encounter with Vise had shaken her more than she wanted to admit.

He recognized me, she thought, her heart still racing. Even with the mask. Even with everything. Something in him knew.

She pushed the thought away. She couldn’t afford to dwell on it now. She had bigger problems. A vampire to kill. A kingdom to save. A future to build.

And apparently, a sweet tooth to satisfy.

---

The bakery was a small, charming shop tucked between a tailor’s and a bookbinder’s. The windows were lit with warm, golden light, and the smell of fresh bread and pastries drifted out into the street like a siren’s call.

Aria stopped in her tracks, her mouth watering.

"Kelme," she said, her voice carrying a note of desperate longing. "Buy me something."

Kelme blinked. "What?"

"Buy me something. From the bakery. I want a pastry. Or a cake. Or—" She gestured vaguely at the window, where an array of sweets was displayed in tempting rows. "Something. Anything. Please."

Kelme looked at the bakery, then at her, then back at the bakery. His expression shifted through several stages—confusion, realization, and finally, embarrassment.

"I, uh," he started, his voice trailing off. "I don’t have any money."

Aria stared at him. "You don’t have any money."

"No."

"You lived for over a thousand years. And you’re broke."

"I—it’s not that simple—"

"Kelme." Aria’s voice was flat, carrying a note of profound disappointment. "You lived for over a thousand years. You had centuries to accumulate wealth. To save. To invest. To do literally anything with your immortal existence other than—" She gestured vaguely at him. "Whatever this is."

Kelme’s face flushed. "I was a vampire! I didn’t need money! I could just—you know—take whatever I wanted. I had my charm. I had my power. I had—"

"You had nothing," Aria interrupted. "You had nothing because you never bothered to build anything. You just took. And now you’re a thousand years old and you can’t even buy me a pastry."

"That’s not fair—"

"If I lived for over a thousand years and was still broke, I’d walk into the sun." She shook her head, a note of genuine exasperation in her voice. "I’d just—I’d find the nearest sunrise and I’d end it. I couldn’t live with that kind of shame."

Kelme sputtered, his face growing redder. "I wasn’t always broke! I had—I mean, there were times when I had—" He stopped, his expression shifting to something more thoughtful. "Actually, now that I think about it, I did have a lot of stuff. I just never kept track of it. I’d take something, use it, and then... forget about it."

"That’s not better. That’s worse. That’s the kind of financial irresponsibility that would make a banker weep."

"I was a vampire! A creature of the night! A predator who—"

"Who couldn’t manage a budget," Aria finished. "Who couldn’t save a single coin. Who lived for a millennium and has nothing to show for it except a bad attitude and a tragic backstory."

Kelme opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. He looked at the bakery, at the sweets in the window, at Aria’s disappointed expression.

"Fine," he said, his voice small. "I’m sorry I can’t buy you a pastry."

"That’s not the point. The point is that you should have been prepared. You should have had a plan. You should have—"

"Okay, okay. I get it. I’m a failure. I’m a disappointment. I’ve wasted my immortal existence on nothing but hedonism and poor financial decisions."

Aria’s expression softened, just a fraction. "That’s not—I mean, it’s true, but that’s not—" She sighed. "I just really wanted a pastry."

"I know. And I’m sorry I can’t give you one."

---

They stood in silence for a moment, the smell of fresh bread wafting over them. Then, slowly, Kelme spoke.

"You know," he said, his voice carrying a note of distant memory, "I used to take whatever I wanted. Without thinking. Without caring. I had a charm that made people want to give me things, and I used it. All the time."

Aria looked at him, her eyes narrowing. "That’s not something to be proud of."

"I know. I’m not proud of it. I’m just—I’m trying to explain why I never needed money. If I wanted something, I could just... have it. Someone would offer it to me. Sometimes even if I didn’t ask."

"That’s sad," Aria said quietly. "That’s really sad."

"It’s worse than sad. It’s pathetic. I was pathetic, and I didn’t even realize it." He laughed, a hollow, bitter sound. "I once had this hypocrite of a girl. She fell in love with me—or thought she did. I told her I was a killer. A predator. I told her I couldn’t care less about her. And she said she didn’t care."

Aria frowned. "She didn’t care that you were a monster?"

"She said it didn’t matter. Said she loved me anyway. Said she’d do anything for me." Kelme shook his head. "A werewolf came to save her from me, and she rejected him. Said he was a killer for trying to protect her. Can you believe that? She called him a killer—the guy who was trying to save her—while she was throwing herself at an actual vampire."

"That’s—" Aria paused, searching for the right word. "That’s really messed up."

"It gets worse. I didn’t even care about her. I didn’t care about anyone. I was a monster, and she was throwing away her life for a monster who couldn’t even be bothered to pretend to love her back."

"Did she survive?"

Kelme was quiet for a long moment. "She’s dead now. She died a long time ago. You don’t have to worry about her."

Aria looked at him, at the pain in his eyes, at the weight of centuries of guilt and regret.

"You loved her," she said softly. "In your own way. Even if you didn’t realize it at the time."

Kelme’s expression flickered. "Hell no, I don’t—I was a vampire. I couldn’t— I felt worst about the werewolf who died protecting, she had it coming. you know a person can always resist my charm if they want, they just don’t want too"

"You could. You did. And you’ve been carrying that guilt ever since."

He was quiet for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded.

"I didn’t kill her," he said. "But I might as well have. I broke her heart. I destroyed her life. And I didn’t even care."

Aria reached out and touched his arm. "You care now. That’s what matters."

---

They stood in silence for another moment, the weight of Kelme’s confession hanging between them. Then, slowly, Aria spoke.

"Man," she said, her voice carrying a note of wry amusement. "We’re hypocrites. We’re the biggest hypocrites I’ve ever met."

Kelme blinked. "What?"

Her voice became quieter.

"And I don’t even know how much of what you’re telling me is really yours... and how much of it is something that power wants me to believe."

"That’s... not really the same thing."

"Isn’t it? We’re both trying to be better. We’re both trying to make up for the past. But we’re still the same people we were. We still have the same flaws, the same weaknesses, the same capacity for self-deception."

Kelme was quiet for a moment, turning her words over in his mind. "So what do we do?"

Aria shrugged. "We keep trying. We keep being better. And maybe, someday, we’ll actually succeed."

"Or maybe we’ll just keep being hypocrites forever."

"Probably. But at least we’ll be honest about it."

---

Aria’s stomach grumbled, loud and insistent.

"I really wanted that pastry," she said, her voice small.

"I know. I’m sorry."

"It’s not your fault. It’s just—I’ve been living on mushrooms and moss for weeks. I wanted something sweet. Something warm. Something that reminded me of being human."

"Maybe when this is all over, I’ll buy you an entire bakery."

"With what money?"

"...We’ll figure it out."

They started walking again, leaving the bakery behind. The night was dark and quiet, the streets empty except for the occasional drunk stumbling home from the tavern.

And then Aria heard it—the sound of footsteps. Heavy. Urgent. Coming from behind them.

She turned, and her blood ran cold.

It was Vise. And the barbarian. They were running toward them, their faces set in grim determination.

"Kelme," she hissed. "They’re following us."

Kelme turned, his expression shifting to alarm. "Why? What do they want?"

"I don’t know. And I don’t want to find out."

They started running, weaving through the narrow streets, ducking into alleys, trying to lose their pursuers. But Vise and the barbarian were faster, more determined, and they kept coming.

"Split up," Aria said, her voice urgent. "We’ll meet at the cave."

"Are you sure?"

"Go. Now."

Kelme hesitated, then nodded. He turned and disappeared into a side alley, leaving Aria alone with her pursuers.

She ran faster, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t know what Vise wanted. She didn’t know why he was chasing her. But she knew she couldn’t let him catch her.

Not yet, she thought. Not until I’m ready. Not until I have the power to face him.

She ducked into a narrow alley, pressed herself against the wall, and waited.

The footsteps grew closer. Louder. And then they stopped.

"Where did she go?" Vise’s voice, sharp and frustrated.

"I don’t know," the barbarian rumbled. "She was right here."

"Find her. She can’t have gone far."

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