As Zerin rounded the corner, the dim moonlight barely illuminating the cobbled path, stepping forward, he nearly collided with a broad figure stumbling through the shadows. The pungent odor of alcohol was unmistakable. It was the man barking orders just earlier this evening, his steps unsteady, and his expression contorted to anger.

“Watch where you're going!”

The man slurred his words together, his bloodshot narrowed onto Zerin’s startled face.

His features contorted with a mix of fury and drunkenness as he lunged forward, his hand closing around Zerin’s neck with a vice-like grip. With an unexpected display of his strength, seemingly fueled by drunken rage.

“It's you! You think you’re so special, but there's nothing special about you!”

Bashir’s words slurred out, his breath heavy with the stench of alcohol, mingling with the musk of a long day’s labor that clung to his body. With a firm grip around Zerin’s throat, his hold tightened.

“What the hell are you talking abo—”

Zerin winced as he was being slowly lifted into the air, his world spun as he felt the crushing pressure on his neck intensify, each heartbeat echoing in his ears like a drumbeat. Panic consumed him, his lungs burning for air as he thrashed against Bashir’s hold. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he teetered on the edge of consciousness, the edges of his vision darkening with each passing moment.

With a grand final effort fueled solely by his survival instinct, Zerin scoured within summoning the [Crimson Needle]. Scarlet runes shimmered into existence, as they weaved into the staff's true form. With a deft flick of his wrist, the staff whistled in the air, the razor-sharp tip of the staff sliced through the air, leaving a crimson trail as it found its mark on Bashir's eye.

The crimson spray illuminated in the red moonlight, painting the ground in a grotesque display of violence. The man was caught off guard, his grip faltered as pain and shock struck him. With a guttural roar, he involuntarily released Zerin, sending him through the air like a ragdoll. The impact was gruesome to the ears as his knee grinded against the cobble path, with a sickening crunch.

Gasping for breath, Zerin’s throat was raw and his mouth, he could only taste iron, he fought to regain his bearings as he stumbled back onto his knee. Despite the haze clouding his vision, he was able to assess the aftermath. The towering figure of wrath, staggered back in agony, his hands instinctively rising to his wounded eye, as blood could be heard audibly spilling to the ground. Stumbling, the man knocked over several crates that were prepared for the festival.

As the man hesitantly removed his blood-smeared hand from his injured eye, the realization of his own blood staining his palm caused him to froth in anger.

“YOU BASTARD!”

The brute roared like some ogre, each ragged inhalation and exhalation, proved his rage further, his massive frame heaved dramatically as he prepared to charge forth. Yet, amidst the pinnacle of his rage, a fleeting shadow of doubt flickered across his face, a moment of hesitation that betrayed what he truly desired to accomplish. Zerin’s heart pounded in his chest as his eyes locked with the man’s, he couldn't get up even if he wanted to, he used all his energy just to escape his grasp.

The commotion summoned the members of the community, forming a silent circle around the confrontation. A hand found its way to Zerin, as he felt himself being lifted up slightly. Startled by the unexpected touch, Zerin whirled around in a defensive stance, dragging his knee across the cobblestones below, he turned to his target, painting the cobblestones below in a stroke of crimson.

A split second of confusion and adrenaline-fueled fear, Zerin’s gaze met Wisteria, her face offering a type of solace, a flicker of recognition and vulnerability passing between them, in that moment, the darkened staff slipped out of his hands, as it clattered against the cobblestones below.

“Are you okay Zerin?”

Her concerned voice filled his ears, reverberating through his very being. She placed her cool hand on his neck, touching the red mark slightly, pulling back when he winced.

“Bashir!”

A voice of unrecognizable anger lashed out.

“You dare strike our lord?”

The old man’s voice, worn and weathered, reverberated with a deep-seated anger, it was a tone of fury never before witnessed by Zerin, hatred in its purest form that sent shivers down Zerin’s spine.

"That was the last straw!"

The old man's words spat forth with increased malice.

His voice unforgiving continued, as he delivered scalding words to Bashir.

“This is precisely why you are unworthy of guiding our people. You are a slave to your vices… Your lack of restraint is a blight! You are nothing but a wasted existence! I despise you!”

Each work was condemning, each syllable like a sharpened blade aimed to carve out Bashir’s very heart.

Bashir’s usually steady frame trembled under the weight of the old man’s words, the words striking at his very core. Zerin, witnessing the scene unfold, couldn’t even stomach the words that were being said.

"It's alright... I accidentally ran into him, and I messed him up pretty badly already"

Zerin interjected, his voice strained and raspy, the words scraping against his raw throat as he tried to ease the escalating tension

"No, it's far from alright! I've had discussions with him before! Unlike you, Zerin, he is devoid of worth... A pitiful soul consumed by envy of what he can never become!"

The old man spat with venom.

As the old man continued, Zerin found himself adrift at sea surrounded by the words of hatred the old man had for his very own son, a chilling and unnatural sight to witness. Despite his prior interactions with the family, he discovered he had only just begun to catch glimpses of their true family dynamic.

Suddenly, the old man’s gaze turned towards Zerin, snapping him out of his momentary trace, the old man spoke.

"Zerin... You may leave, rest assured. Bashir will face the consequences within his community."

The old man's final decree rang through the tense air.

How could he protest? He felt as If the old man words were far to harsh considering that Zerin was only roughed up a bit. With the help of Wisteria, he limped his way to the castle leaning on her as she held him up, their steps faltered slightly but they succeed in making it past the red garden, Its flowers shining vibrantly in the dim red moon light as they made their way to castle, pushing upon the double doors of the castle, the heavy wood creaking before sealing them from the outside world behind them.

"I'm so sorry Zerin..."

Wisteria's voice filled with sorrow.

"No... It's fine."

'I would rather go through what I went through a hundred times than what he went through.'

Wisteria's expression flicked with uncertainty as she helped him scale the dusty stone spiraling staircase.

Crossing the stone hallway with measured steps, Zerin and Wisteria finally made it to his bedroom, the warm fire that never seemed to cease invited them in graciously.

A calm voice spoke.

"I couldn't find you, so I decided to wait for you at your quarters."

Turning towards the calm voice that sounded in the dimly lit room, Zerin and Wisteria saw the discernible silhouette of the priest. Suspended in the air outside on the balcony, its form was shrouded in shadows, its hands clasped behind its back in a calm posture as it overlooked the land below.

Zerin placed a comforting hand on Wisteria’s shoulder, before limping forward, creating distance between him and Wisteria as they separated.

His voice came out harshly due to the pain in his throat.

“Yeah… I just came back from visiting the people.”

The priest, turned to face Zerin, it glided forward, being propelled by an unseen force with unsettling grace. The unnatural contortion of its form as it floated stationary in the air, left a tension in the air.

“Your knee… What befell you?”

The Priest’s voice, sounding almost like a haunting whisper, its gaze fixated on Zerin’s injured knee. Zerin’s gaze fell upon the torn fabric of his black pants, stained with his blood that trickled to the ground below. He met the Priest’s unwavering gaze, Zerin hesitated.

“It’s nothing, just a scratch I’ll manage.”

The Priest seemed to not buy this excuse and with a voice that demanded attention, he shifted his focus to Wisteria, she stood there quiet with visible fear on her face.

“Who is responsible for this?”

The Priest's question rang almost like an accusation.

"Leave her be,"

Zerin's voice was quiet, but it was a firm interjection.

"Why do you defend them, knowing they allowed this to happen?"

The entity's gaze fell upon Zerin's batter body before Zerin spoke.

"It wasn't their fault... It was out of their control..."

The entity snapped back swiftly, bitterness lacing its tone as it hissed.

"They wouldn't give me the same luxury... They all thank me, but I can see the truth on their wretched faces..."

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Wisteria, a witness to this intense exchange, her eyes betrayed her as she trembled slightly.

"I'm sorry!"

She whispered slightly her voice barely audible amidst the charged atmosphere and would have gone unnoticed if it wasn't for the Priest's keen ear.

The entity loomed over Wisteria, casting a menacing shadow, his gaze piercing her as he began to dissect her with his words.

“So, it was you, how dare his wretched spawn do this?! After I gave that old sack of bones a dwelling for his own!”

Zerin’s voice crackled with barely contained anger as his voice nearly went hoarse as he bravely stepped forward, his injured leg causing a slight limp as he positioned himself between Wisteria and the imposing figure of the Priest.

“I said leave her out of it! It was her brother, not her!”

He further continued after the room was greeted with silence.

“The old man said they would deal with it as a community”

The entity's voice thundered, reverberating through the space with an air of authority.

"As a community? They protect their own and we shall do the same!"

"We are no different from them."

The Priest, consumed by simmering anger that radiated.

"We will talk about this later tomorrow during your training..."

The entity's words hung in the air, and with that being said the entity drifted past Zerin and Wisteria, leaving the room as the door closed with a click.

"You alright?"

She let out a small scoff, her annoyance evident in the subtle curl of her lip.

"Worry about yourself! You're the one hurt."

"I am fine..."

Though the slight wince that accompanied his movement betrayed what came out of his mouth.

Settling onto the edge of his bed, Zerin winced once more as he gently lowered himself, sinking into the luxurious bed.

"And you call that fine..."

She remarked her voice tinged with gentle concerned voice as she observed his discomfort.

Sighing softly, she sank into the bed next to Zerin, her restless feet swinging as her feet couldn't reach the foot of the bed, her gaze wandered around the room.

Zerin, his attention focused on the growing stain of blood seeping through his pant leg, shifted uncomfortably.

"Damn it! Can you get a towel or something? There should be a couple in the bathroom there..."

His voice held urgency as he gestured towards the room. Springing out of her seat behind him she leapt into action. She swiftly made her way to the bathroom. Her eyes located the stack of folded towels, and she retrieved it before returning to Zerin's side.

"Here..."

Zerin accepted the towel as she found her spot sitting next to him again.

"Thanks..."

"Mhmm..."

They sat in silence for several moments as Zerin rolled up his pant leg, revealing the angry gash on his knee. With care he pressed one of the white towels against the wound, the fabric darkening as it absorbed his blood.

“What if it gets infected?”

Her voice laced with concern as she leaned over slightly watching him intently.

“Shut up… Don’t say that…”

He continued pressing on his wound. Refusing to even consider something like that could happen.

Hearing his response drove her to action as she delivered a light but firm slap to his knee.

“Don’t tell me to shut up!”

The unexpected sting of her touch elicited a sharp intake of breath from Zerin, a mixture of surprise and pain contorting his features.

“AHH! What the hell!”

A soft laugh escaped her lips as she gracefully rose from the bed, a sense of mischief twinkling in those blue eyes of hers as she skipped over to the fireplace. her gaze landed on a wooden crate housing several long forgotten bottles, she fished one out of the crate and held it up in a pose. The bottles surface was coated in a thin layer of dust, her fingers delicately brushing away the dust off the label.

Her voice, light and playful, danced through the air as she brandished the bottle, a mischievous glint sparking in her gaze.

"Look what I got here..."

Zerin's voice spoke with a hint of concern.

"Put that down..."

"Why? We can use it to clean your wound"

She suggested as if it was some easy hurdle to go over.

"Like hell! It's going to hurt!"

Zerin's immediate rejection was swift, a grimace crossed his features at the mere thought of the stinging pain that would occur.

"I also heard that losing your leg hurts a lot too!"

Her teasing counter, delivered with a playful smirk, held a hint of mock severity.

'What kind of devil did I invite into my room?'

Her words carried a playful flow, a teasing giggle escaping her as she playfully jabbed at his shoulder with her elbow.

"Stop being such a baby... I'll help"

"I am not a baby..."

Zerin's protest could have been taken as half-hearted; a faint blush of embarrassment colored his features due to her teasing.

"Oh... Stop your pouting... Now, how do I open this?"

With her brow furrowing, she wrestled with the unyielding cork, her nails digging into its surface in a futile attempt to free its grasp. Frustration crept into her expression, and in a last-ditch effort she bit into the cork.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!"

Zerin placed his hand on her forehead stopping her from pulling back on the cork.

"Are you insane?"

She sighed as she finally relented, casting a sheepish glance towards him

"I can't open it,"

She admitted with a sheepish grin, her pride momentarily set aside as she handed him the sealed bottle.

'I am really contributing to my own doom...'

With a sigh he took the bottle from her hands, his other hand reached out into the air, a faint shimmer of red runes began to form as the staff materialized from thin air.

"What? How did you? That's cheating..."

"Do you want me to open the bottle or not?"

"It wasn't for me anyways... It was for your leg."

She countered, a touch of sass colored her words.

As Zerin raised the tip of his staff, she tensed slightly. with a deft motion, he drove the tip of the staff into the cork. Observing her reaction, Zerin shook his head slightly as he expertly maneuvered the cork, allowing a controlled release of pressure as the gas hissed out before he fully uncorked the bottle with ease.

A soft smile tugged at her lips,

"Look who is a professional,"

She teased, her hands finding her hips as she playfully looked down at him.

Grabbing a fresh clean towel, Zerin tipped the bottle, allowing the clear liquid to saturate a portion of the cloth as he prepared to tend to his injuries. Hesitation flickered briefly in his movements as his heart thumped against his chest.

Seizing the opportunity, she snatched the bottle from the nightstand, her actions speedy as she took a bold swig straight from the bottle. The sharp bite of alcohol soon greeted her, elicited a shudder and a slight gag, causing her eyes to water slightly.

"Aw... That's horrible..."

Zerin couldn't help but chuckled at her reaction, a light-hearted laugh broke free. In his amusement, was a moment of carelessness that led him to accidentally dabbing his injured knee with the alcohol-soaked cloth. A searing wave of pain shot through his leg, causing him to wince and grit his teeth as he tried to endure the fiery sensation.

Amused by his mistake, she couldn't contain her laughter, a playful grin on her face as she pointed at him.

"That's what you get!"

Zerin's expression turned to slight anger.

She spoke trying to diffuse his moment of anger.

"I was just messing with you."

She sat herself next to him, she held the bottle in her hand, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she passed the unholy object of corruption towards him.

"Come on, give it a taste"

'You damn devil!'

"No, you said it was horrible, and besides, aren't you underage just like me?"

"Underage? What do you mean? I already went through puberty..."

'You got to be messing with me...'

"Never mind... Just get that damn bottle away from my face."

He grumbled slightly as he focused back on his knee.

"Fine... Jeez,"

She took another sip of the alcohol; the sharp taste caused her to shudder and groan again.

"If you don't like it, stop forcing yourself to drink it!"

"I do like it... It's just different,

She explained, defiance in her voice as she defended her precious elixir of corruption.

After a painstaking effort, Zerin managed to clean and disinfect his injured knee, the process proving to be a test of endurance, even amongst the searing pain he persisted.

Meanwhile, Wisteria teetered on the brink of drunkenness, her movements becoming increasingly unsteady. Sitting beside Zerin, she swayed slightly an obvious sign of her drunken state as she struggled to maintain her balance.

"You alright, Ria?"

"Hmm? Me?... I am perfectly fine..."

As Wisteria responded with a dreamy smile and slightly slurred words, it became evident that her claim of being 'perfectly fine' was far from the truth. With a carefree demeanor, she leaned back, resting her head on Zerin's lap, her blue eyes gazing up at him with a mischievous glint.

A sudden fit of giggles overtook her, her laughter echoing in the room as she reached out with her hands, her fingertips brushing against Zerin's face in a playful gesture. Zerin, caught off guard by her playful advance, attempted to dodge her playful tendrils, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he tried to evade her touch.

"My lord..."

Her voice wavered slightly as she gazed up at him.

'No... Don't try to pull this on me...'

"I think I am going to puke"

She a hint of distress filling her features.

Zerin was taken by complete surprise, blushing at himself as he couldn't believe he thought it would be anything important.

He urged her urgently as he began to push her off of him slightly, his tone was mixed with concern as he attempted to create further distance from her.

"Then go do it off the balcony or in the trash!"

She held closer to him stopping him from pushing her away as she gazed up at him.

"You won't get mad if I throw up on you?"

Her question tinged with stupidity and whimsy as she looked up at him her eyes looked as if she was staring off into space.

"What kind of question is that?! Of course, I will!"

His response was instant, his tone bewildered by the sheer absurdity of the situation. Despite his protest, another laughs bubbled form her lips, the sound light and carefree as she hammered her fist against his chest, her eyes dancing in further mischief.

"That face!"

As she sighed, her face contorted with tears of laughter, Wisteria found herself on the brink of hysterics, the mirth bubbling within her threatening to spill over. Amidst the peals of laughter, a sudden scratching noise echoed at the door, causing Wisteria to startle, her playful demeanor giving way to a flicker of fear. In a reflexive move, she jumped slightly, seeking refuge behind Zerin on the bed, her eyes wide with a mix of surprise and apprehension.

"What was that?" Her voice trembled slightly, a note of uncertainty conveyed her words as she clung to Zerin for reassurance, the earlier amusement overshadowed by a sense of unease.

"You are never drinking around me again..."

Zerin's his concern evident as he rose from the bed, intent on investigating the source of the mysterious scratching sound. Feeling Wisteria's tug on his arm, he paused.

Her voice held a hint of urgency, a plea for him to remain close as the sense of foreboding lingered in the air.

"Where are you going?"

"I am going to open the door,"

Zerin's response was firm, he pulled his arm back causing her to stumble and tumble back onto the bed.

Approaching the door, Zerin's suspicions grew as the scratching persisted, a sense of recognition dawning upon him. With a hint of assurance in his voice, he turned to Wisteria, offering a cryptic reassurance.

"Oh... Don't worry... I am certain you know this little guy very well..."

"Huh?"

Wisteria's confusion was evident, her gaze shifting between Zerin and the door, a sense of curiosity mingling with apprehension as the mystery unfolded before them.

Upon opening the door, Zerin was greeted by the sight of the peculiar, slug-like creature, rolling into the room with an almost comical clumsiness. Bumping into Zerin's leg, the creature paused before unfurling itself, its gaze meeting Zerin's with an almost childlike innocence. A soft, playful giggle escaped its tiny form, which even surprised Zerin as he never heard such a noise coming from this creature before.

"Hello, you little fat rascal..."

Zerin muttered greeting the little bundle of fleshly joy.

The little creature, resembling slug, began to skitter across the floor, drawn to the drops of blood scattered from Zerin's knee. It mopped the floor clean with its face, lapping up the crimson droplets before its attention was captured by the bloodied rag resting on the nightstand. Stretching up its nubby hands towards the rag in a futile attempt, it made almost baby-like coo's as it seemed determined to reach the bloodied cloth.

"Fine..."

Zerin gave in, stepping close to the creature and offering the bloodied cloth, untouched by alcohol. The creature's reaction was on of unbridled delight, expressing it joy by curling into a fleshly ball and gumming on the darkened white cloth, with satisfaction.

From beneath the covers, Wisteria's voice slurred out as she peered out, her expression a mix of surprise and disgust.

"Ew... It's eating your—"

The words hung in the air, abruptly cut off by a disturbing sound—a sharp, retching gag followed by a wet splatter that echoed against the floor. Wisteria, unable to contain her revulsion, succumbed to a bout of nausea, emptying the contents of her stomach at the foot of the bed, the remnants from the recent dinner now scatter before her in a grim display.

'You got to be kidding me...'

In a nervous attempt to diffuse the tension, Wisteria offered a sheepish chuckle, her apology tinged with embarrassment.

"Sorry..."

Without hesitation, Zerin disposed of the bloodied towel used to clean up the mess, turning his attention back to the peculiar, gorging little slug that seemed unfazed by the chaos unfolding around it. To the creature, the scene was a banquet, a feast fit for royally, and it wasted no time in scurrying onto its chunky legs, moving with surprising speed and determination.

"Oh no you don't"

Zerin lunged to the ground, attempting to apprehend the voracious little creature. However, the slug proved to be formidable adversary, slipping effortlessly us of Zerin's grasp with a squirming determination triumphed by no other.

"Damn it!"

Zerin's frustration was palpable as he finally managed to secure the wriggling creature in his hands, its soft body twisting like a worm in his grip.

"Stop! I'll get you food, okay?

His tone softened as he placed the little guy into the basket full of the blood fruits.

"Stay..."

The slug, now nestled among the pile of vibrant crimson fruits, finally shifting its attention from the unsavory pile of throw up on the rug, to the tempting crimson fruits.

With a sense of relief, Zerin watched as the slug eagerly seized one of the fruits in its pudgy hands, it began to gum at the crimson fruit, the succulent juice spilling over its pudgy form as it reclined int he basket, content in its food.

"What a pig..."

Zerin shook his head with a slight smile, as he averted his gaze to the pile of vomit, that turned his face sour. Turning towards Wisteria, Zerin observed her groan as she gingerly wiped her face with a towel.

"Look at you... Are you planning on drowning yourself in alcohol like that again?"

Shaking her head in response, she admitted.

"No..."

"At least you learned your lesson. It appears that alcohol and your family don't quite see eye to eye"

Zerin remarked with a wry smile, a teasing glint in his eyes as he attempted in lightening up the mood.

"Shut up..."

Wisteria groaned as her face blushed, turning away from him, covering up laying on her side.

"You are going to make me clean up your mess?!"

'No response... You damn demon!'

With a resigned sigh, he decided on a course of action, lifting up the soiled rug and making his way to the balcony. Stepping out into the cool night air, a gentle breeze carried the mingled scents of Wisteria's unfortunate expulsions and the faint metallic tang of blood in the air, creating a combination that threatened the contents of his very own stomach. Steeling himself against the unpleasant combination, he swiftly disposed of the evidence, emptying the contents over the balcony railing, the debris disappearing into the foliage below with a hushed rustle.

After laying the soiled rug out on the railing, his gaze drifted back towards the little slug, engrossed in its feast of fruits, its tiny form a picture of contentment. His attention then shifted to Wisteria, who lay sound asleep in his bed, her breathing steady and peaceful in the dimly lit room.

With a weary sigh escaping his lips, Zerin acknowledged the lateness of the hour and the exhaustion tugging at his eyelids.

"I should probably get some sleep..."