Caius watches expectantly as Faust drags the mysterious chest out from the corner of the living room. He brings it to the center of the room with a bit of effort and unlocks the thick metal latches holding the lid in place. Caius leans over his shoulder as he pushes it open.

Inside is a haphazardly stored cache of silver weapons. Their metal bodies are wrapped carefully in dustcloths, but the cold metal peeks out between creases, shining in the low light.

“So silver really does work against vampires?” Caius asks curiously. “Just like in the fairy tales.”

“As a history student, you should know that much of superstition is based on reality.” Faust replies, standing back up and brushing off his hands. He gestures to the chest. “Pick something you think is interesting.”

Caius looks at him, surprised.

“You’re giving me a weapon already?” He says.

Faust scoffs.

“There’s no point in training if you don’t even know what a silver weapon feels like in your hand.” He points out. He glances over Caius’s form. “Your physique is fine, though you’ll need to get stronger and faster to hold your own against a real vamp. The most important thing right now is for you to get used to wielding your weapon as quickly as possible.”

Caius thinks for a moment, then nods. Logically it makes sense. He turns back to the chest, leaning over, looking through the weapons. The dustclothes are soft against his fingers - all the tools are meticulously maintained, though he can’t imagine Faust has cause to use very many of them.

Below the pile of weapons, he sees a bundle of papers lining the bottom of the chest. Interest flares in his chest, but he focuses on the weapons for now. He has a glut of options - daggers and knives in leather sheaths, some with crosses engraved into the handles, metal knuckles made of silver, a three-pronged short trident of Eastern design, two smaller hand-axes, and a few guns.

“I understand now why you don’t let anyone into your apartment,” Caius quips, looking back at Faust.

“You haven’t seen the broadsword hidden in my closet,” Faust replies, dry humor suffusing his voice.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.” Caius sighs, picking up another weapon and feeling it in his hands.

Faust shrugs.

“In older times, it was normal to bring a sword or an axe wherever you went,” he says. “But that was a long time ago, generations before me. Hunting has mostly modernized with the times, so most folks use smaller weapons that are easier to conceal and transport.”

“Explaining it like that makes you sound like a real professor.” Caius says, still perusing the weapons.

Faust ignores the jab and looks over his shoulder.

“For your level right now, a knife would probably be the best choice.” He points out.

Caius picks up a pair of short silver knives, along with a leather shoulder sheath. Faust scoffs.

“If you wear that, you’ll have to wear jackets for the rest of your life.” He says, leaning over Caius and picking up something else. “Use these instead.”

He hands Caius two items - a belt sheath and an ankle sheath, both leather, well-suited for the knives in Caius’s hands. Caius takes them obligingly.

“How does silver kill a vampire?” He asks, putting the other things away and standing again, his chosen weapons in his hands. The silver warms quickly to his touch, and the knives are a comfortable weight in his palms. The sharp edges gleam silently against the pale backdrop of his skin.

“It’s better for you to never have to find out.” Faust sighs.

Caius looks at him with an expression that shows clearly how insufficient he thinks Faust’s answer is. Faust shrugs.

“I’m no doctor, but I’ve heard it described as a chemical burn.” He elaborates, shutting the lid on the chest and locking it again. “Even one touch of silver on their skin will slowly and painfully eat through their flesh until there’s nothing left."