The scene was brutal. While it didn’t faze Dreven at all, he knew it was not a pretty sight. Lisan, however, was frozen, as though still processing the carnage. Dreven knelt beside Rowan's corpse, his fingers brushing against the supple leather of the boots. They were well-crafted, the kind that molded perfectly to the wearer's feet with time. The faint scent of oiled leather mingled with the metallic tang of fresh blood. Stripping the belt from Caius, he felt the smooth, worn leather against his palm. The sword slid into its sheath with a metallic hiss.
Turning back to Lisan, Dreven crouched down. His glowing yellow eyes bore into hers, unblinking and intense. “I cannot say I regret what happened,” he said, his voice low and steady, with a chill that matched the air. “Compassion isn't a trait my kind are known for.” His breath was cool against her face, faintly coppery from the lingering scent of spilled blood. “That being said, I do not attack without cause. You should know that.”
Grabbing a lock of her hair, he examined it thoughtfully, his sharp features betraying no hint of remorse. “Fortunately for you…I need you. This world is as foreign to me as I imagine I am to you. I require your help. But only after we accomplish a few things.”
Lisan remained motionless, her wide, unfocused eyes fixed on some unseen point as though caught in a waking nightmare. The silence stretched, heavy and suffocating. Dreven snapped his fingers sharply in front of her face, the sound cutting through the stillness like a whip. “Lisan,” he commanded, his tone slicing through her haze. “Look at me. Nod if you understand.”
Her eyes flicked up to his with a faint glimmer of awareness, though they quickly darted downward again, unable to hold his piercing gaze for long. A small, shaky nod followed.
“Good,” Dreven said. “I will bind your hands and take anything that could pose a danger to me. You will listen carefully and do exactly as I say. Is that clear?”
Another nod. Her compliance felt hollow, though Dreven saw the telltale signs of inner conflict—the quick, nervous glance to his belt, the tightening of her jaw as though weighing a fight she knew she couldn’t win. He smirked to himself. Smart enough to realize the futility, yet not so broken as to be useless.
Without a word, he retrieved a length of rope from the group's supplies and secured her hands. The knots were tight but not cruel, efficient rather than sadistic. Gathering what little remained of value from the fallen, he gestured for her to follow. Lisan stumbled after him as they moved away from the grisly scene, her shoulders slumped under the weight of shock and despair.
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Hours passed in near silence as they walked. The forest whispered around them, the occasional rustle of leaves or distant call of an animal punctuating the oppressive quiet. Dreven glanced at his prisoner. Her posture had straightened slightly, and her breathing was more even now—a sign that she was beginning to recover from the shock.
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“You’re angry,” he said abruptly, breaking the silence. “That’s natural. But if you’ve something to say, best you do it now. Holding it in will only prolong this tedious process.”
Lisan stopped abruptly, her trembling voice breaking through the quiet. “You slaughtered my companions, you beast!” she spat, her words laced with venom and raw with pain. Her red-rimmed eyes burned with hatred, though they couldn’t meet his for long. The glare faltered, her gaze dropping to the dirt as though even her fury couldn’t sustain her defiance.
Dreven’s response was calm, almost lazy, but his tone carried a faint edge. “Beast?” he mused, his lips curling into a faint smirk. “I suppose by your standards I am. But tell me, Lisan, what would your so called inquisitors have done to me if you successfully turned me over to the authorities? A fair trial? Or a quick execution for being… inconvenient?”
It was nearing mid-morning and Dreven could feel the occasional rays of sun sapping some of his energy.
Her breath hitched, but she forced herself to reply. “We offered to escort you. We weren’t going to harm you.”
“Of course,” Dreven said, his voice thick with mockery. “And when you saw what I am you and your friends immediately agreed to turn me over to this so-called inquisition.”
Her silence spoke volumes, and Dreven pressed further, his words cutting like knives. “Spare me the pretense of moral outrage. You made your decision knowing I would likely die.”
“You—” she began, but her voice cracked. She clenched her fists, the trembling returning. “You drank Caius’s blood. Only a monster does that.”
“And in my old world, that was precisely what they called us,” Dreven replied, his voice growing colder. “Monsters. Beasts. Demons. Do you think yourself engaging in similar name calling is going to convince me of your moral superiority? Even then…if I am what you claim me to be there is no reason I should keep you alive much longer.”
His glowing eyes softened slightly, almost imperceptibly. “I didn’t choose to become Sanguinari, Lisan. But when I was given a second chance, I accepted it. As I now accept this new life.”
Their conversation shifted as Dreven laid out his terms: a blood bond ritual, one that would ensure their mutual survival. As he explained, Lisan’s eyes darted away, her teeth catching her bottom lip in thought. Dreven could see her weighing the risks, the faint twitch of her fingers betraying a brief consideration of resistance. But she sighed, the fight draining from her frame.
“I’ll listen,” she said finally, her voice small but steady.
Dreven’s smirk returned. “Good. You’ll find that cooperation will serve you better than defiance.”
He outlined the conditions—her assistance in navigating this foreign land, his promise to protect her life, and the pact’s eventual dissolution. Of course, he didn’t mention that the bond would be nearly impossible to sever without external interference. As she reluctantly agreed to the terms, Dreven felt a flicker of satisfaction. This was much easier than he initially anticipated. Lisan Emberton was much less attached to her companions than she pretended to be.
Only a few hours into Ultima and he already was causing problems. He needed to get a handle on the situation sooner than later. Otherwise it risked going out of control.
The rise of the Sanguinari in this new world was only just beginning.