His presence was powerful and menacing. The way he stood alone sent all of Lethe’s instincts into defensive mode. She knew him not, or why he had the eyes from her dream; but one thing was for sure: this man would not hesitate to attack her. Getting her hands out of her pockets, she cracked her neck and positioned herself in an offensive stance. Not that she was afraid of him; she was simply startled by the suddenness of his appearance, and more so by the familiarity of his eyes. Seeing her stance, his frown turned into a somewhat bemused half smirk, as though he was excited, which made Lethe take notice of more of his features. A tall stature, wild dark purple hair that he had tied up in a ponytail, sharp teeth sneering at her behind his smirk. His torso was bare but for a bandage wrapped around his abdomen, and a long dark blue coat hanging loosely on his shoulders. Covering his legs were baggy pants that he had sticking to his waist with a black belt; he had them slightly rolled up at his ankles.

Before Lethe could finish sizing him up properly, the said man had swung his club directly at her face; but she was quick enough to react and just barely dodged it.

“Quit starin’ at me and focus on our fight will ya?” He exclaimed, half entertained, half upset at her lack of attentiveness to the combative atmosphere she had found herself in.

“I don’t mind fighting you if that’s what you want, but I’d rather talk instead.” Her reply was calm and disengaging, but her posture hasn’t changed, in case he goes in for a second attack, which he certainly did go for, only to be dodged again.

“You’re too slow.” Lethe commented, “You’ll never land a hit on me if you just attack head-on like that.” She was simply giving him advice, but he seemed to have taken it to heart, for his dark brows furrowed intensely.

“Shut the hell up!” The man shouted defensively and launched a third failure of an attack. Seeing how calm she was only enraged him further. This time, he opted for a side kick, attempting to trip her over, but Lethe simply jumped above his leg and landed swiftly on the ground.

“Calm down. You shouldn’t get too emotional in battle.” She added, her dark brown hair swaying gently as she returned to her posture.

“Fuck off smart ass! Stop dodging like a coward and hit me back!” With another shout, the man tried to swing the club at her right, thinking that her reaction would be slower because she was wearing an eye-patch on her right eye. Lethe, however, was too used to this sort of attack from Perditus, since they always go for weaknesses. Grabbing the club with her left arm, she pulled it towards her, and since the man was holding onto it with all his strength, he was hauled in that same direction as well, his face landing directly onto her right-hand knuckles. He was knocked back a few feet away and landed harshly on the ground, disturbing the otherwise quiet dirt on the ground.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“You’re loud.” Lethe stated, looking at her wounded left palm. “I don’t like loud.” The club she had grabbed so strongly had nails hammered into it, which had scraped her skin. It hurt. It’s been a while since she had bled. The man on the ground used his wrist to wipe his bleeding nose. Then, picking up his coat from the ground, jumped right back up. His expression was as offended as it was impressed.

“What the fuck do you want from me?” His voice was somewhat quieter, but still quite loud. She figured that he was loud by default. She watched him as he kicked his club back into his hand then rested it on his now bare shoulder, while his coat hung on the other one. Lethe could not help but stare at his eyes again. There really was no mistaking it. He was the person from her dream. It was not only that rare sea-foam color, but the almond shape of the eyes, the uncharacteristically long eyelashes; and most notably, this man’s eyes had that same tint of inherent sadness floating deep-within. The only difference would be the absence of that peculiarly overwhelming blend of fury and hopelessness that his dream version had.

“Do you know me?” She asked him flatly, not sure what she was expecting as a response.

“Huh? The fuck you mean?” The man looked genuinely confused.

“Have we met before?” Lethe rephrased her sentence, never taking her gaze off his eyes.

“Oh man, she’s one of those crazy bitches..” His remark seemed to be aimed more towards himself than her, though he made sure to say it loud enough for her to hear it.

“I am going to hit you again if you don’t answer me.” It’s not his tone or blatant cusses that bothered her. That kind of language was standard in Inanis. It’s his loudness that got on her nerves.

“Huh?” He shouted. “You land one punch at me and think that I’ll get scar_” Another punch straight to his already bleeding nose sent him flying back. He took a while to process the situation, before he recollected himself and stood up again. With his wrist at his nose, his bright eyes glinted in humiliation.

“Just answer my question with yes or no. Do we know each other?” Lethe flexed her fingers. He may be slow, but his face is quite hard; her knuckles were burning slightly from the impact.

“Nah. Don’t think so anyway.” He replied grumpily, disheartened by his defeat.

“Then why did you appear in my dream? I’ve never seen you before either.” Lethe contemplated.

“The fuck?” He exclaimed, first in an-almost shout, then seeing her glare, spoke more calmly: “You’re not making any fucking sense.” Lethe nodded in agreement. She seemed lost in thought for a while, then she turned back towards him.

“What’s your name? I am Lethe.” Her face was void of any expression, and so the man had no idea what to make of this strange person asking him these strange questions.

“Why do you wanna know?” He reached out for a toothpick that was in the pocket of his pants. Placing it between his lips, he relaxed against one of the two walls. Lethe leaned back against the opposing one and crossed her arms.

“Maybe it’ll ring some kind of bell.”

“I have no fucking clue what’s you’re on about, but the name’s Saevus.”

“Saevus…” She repeated his name thoughtfully, then met his eyes with hers again. They stared at each other silently for what felt like a good half an hour. Uncomfortable, Saevus nibbled at his toothpick then spat it to the ground.

“Well, this is dumb. Imma head out. Hope I’ll never see you again.” He picked his club a second time from the floor and almost slammed it on his shoulder. Turning away, he flashed at her a middle finger then walked away. Lethe watched him quietly as he left.

“Saevus...” She mumbled to herself.