"Miss, would you like another round of mead?" The barmaid's words pierced through the haze of Vesperine's drunkenness. Startled, she fumbled with her mask, causing the barmaid to gasp and scurry away, appalled by what she had glimpsed beneath.

Vesperine berated herself for her lapse in vigilance, but the relentless alcohol had finally taken its toll. Despite her training to resist its effects, she remained susceptible when she pushed her limits. Two days of solitude in the ramshackle tavern had finally weakened her defenses.

With a trembling hand, she raised her mask just high enough to allow her lips to touch the rim of her drink. She concealed as much of her face as possible, but she knew her momentary exposure had already attracted the attention of the few regulars in the dimly lit establishment.

She considered using one of the items provided by the order, but due to her rank, the enchantment of the mask took effect for only a few minutes. The enchantment that could let her assume the face of some random person was useful, but at this point it wouldn’t do much, since she had already become a regular fixture in the tavern.

Another sip, another burning gulp, as she sought to escape into the oblivion that lurked within the depths of her drink. The mead offered a brief respite from the cacophony of thoughts that threatened to consume her.

She had hurt her puppy, her lovely puppy... She had hurt him!

Her thoughts always strayed to him, her "puppy," the man she had fallen deeply in love with.

She could still see his bright eyes, looking at her, filled with betrayal and anger. It had taken so long to earn his trust, and she had ruined everything in a moment. It had been the first time after so long, so long that she couldn’t even remember, she had found someone she wanted to make a genuine connection with, someone that she didn’t have to get close to for some mission, or for some ulterior motive.

But again, she had to betray him because she had been ordered to. It was an order she couldn’t refuse, as much as she wanted, she couldn’t defy her Goddess. She took another sip, and noticed her tankard was almost empty. She raised her hand to get the attention of the barmaid but the woman all but ignored her after having seen her face.

But what was she thinking? Thoughts swirled in her mind like a tornado of fragmented emotions. Puppies and masks, love and betrayal, it was all a blur. Her mind was a jumble of broken pieces, like shattered glass, impossible to fit together. The mead was her lifeline, a thread connecting her to sanity, but it was unraveling.

He had looked at her, with those eyes, those eyes that held the secrets of the universe, and she had hurt him. The world was closing in, and she couldn't breathe. The mead, the mask, the mead, the mask. What was real? What was the mask? Who was she without it? Who was she? A puppet, a spy, a lover, a killer. The mead was her salvation, her damnation, her only hope. The world was closing in.

Vesperine sighed dejectedly and stood up. With shuffling feet, she went to the counter and threw a couple of coppers to the man manning the tavern. The man had the same black eyes as her puppy, but they were wrinkled with age and were a little too narrow compared to her beautiful puppy. He filled her tankard, stealing glances wanting to see behind her mask.

Vesperine threw a silver coin on the counter and growled. “Keep them coming.” before returning to her seat.

She felt Corgin, her spirit guide, materialize, sensing her foul mood and tried to comfort her by rubbing his scaly body on her neck. She patted him absent mindedly recalling the first time she had bonded with the creature. It had been a “gift” by the order, just like every other initiate, she had been given a spirit guide that would complement her affinities.

She had immediately felt a kindship with the creature, even if at first Corgin was nothing but an indistinct puff of smoke, unable to form a body. Still, it had felt like a part of herself, a creature trapped, and obliged to serve for a chance to live, hiding in the shadows doing the bidding of its masters.

While the other initiates saw their spirit guides as nothing more than a way to boost their power, Vesperine wanted to give the weak creature a chance to live again. So, she trained and gave the creature as much mana as she could so that it could level up and grow stronger.

Slowly but surely the spirit guide grew stronger and with its newfound power came emotions, intelligence and a whole new personality. Corgin usually stayed silent when it came to new people, but for some reason, it made it expressively clear that he didn’t like her puppy. She couldn’t understand why, since her puppy was adorable, he was handsome, funny and when time called for it, cruel!

He was deliciously cruel, she hadn’t missed all the plotting that had been going on behind his intelligent eyes, nor that somehow every one of Edward’s crew had ended up dead, the nobleman included. She was pretty sure that he played a role on Walter’s death too, since he had a skill that let him spot magical traps.

She hadn’t said anything at the time, not wanting to put him on a difficult position, especially since the nobleman had it out for him, intending to kill him at the first chance. And yet her puppy had managed not only to escape the dungeon, but kill Edward, a seasoned warrior and several levels above his own.

Her puppy was resourceful and devious, even if he made impulsive decisions that ended up in catastrophe more often than not. She let out a delighted sigh picturing his face, Corgin as if sensing the object of her thoughts let out a hiss of displeasure near her ear.

https://i.imgur.com/GjtDxK8.png [https://i.imgur.com/GjtDxK8.png]

The barmaid approached reluctantly, holding a pitcher full of frothy mead, looking everywhere but Vesperine. For a moment she considered using one of her knives to kill the woman, who had the misfortune of seeing her face. She didn’t let anyone see her true face and figure out her true parentage. The woman was one of the few people, so few that could be numbered on one hand, that had seen her true visage.

Her hand strayed to her belt without any conscious thought, and she found herself clutching her favorite dagger laced with a paralyzing neurotoxin. The barmaid, oblivious to her perilous situation, poured mead into her half-empty tankard, unaware that her fate was teetering on Vesperine's knife-edge of indecision.

Before she could make her decision, a masculine voice drew her attention.

“Do you mind if I join you sweetheart?” Vesperine looked up only to see the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. Even her puppy looked like a hairy dwarf compared to the fine specimen before her.

Even though the man had black hair her like her puppy, his were slicked back and shiny. He had a slim but muscular body accentuated by tight clothes and yellow eyes that seemed to laugh at her. For all intents and purposes, he looked like a regular human, save of course for the twin, hooked horns on his forehead that spoke of his true race, incubus... Great.

Vesperine averted her gaze, battling against the innate magic that radiated from the demon. The barmaid, however, proved far less resilient; her eyes remained glued to the captivating man, her expression vacant, and she continued to pour ale into the tankard until it overflowed, splashing onto the table. Vesperine cursed and shoved the entranced woman aside, desperately trying to break her eye contact with the incubus.

The man chuckled and without waiting for an invitation, grabbed a chair and sat down. He crossed his legs elegantly and turned to the mesmerized barmaid. “Darling, could you be a dear and fetch me your best wine?”

His sultry tone elicited an immediate nod from the woman, who hastened to fulfill his request. The man followed the barmaid with predatory eyes, as if plotting his next meal and Vesperine was sure that the poor woman would be reduced to an empty husk before the first rays of dawn.

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Vesperine took the time to study the man. She hadn’t seen him before, but that didn’t say much, the order had a great number of agents working independently. She felt her gaze trailing back to his face, to his flawless skin, to his high cheekbones and his full lips. But every time she felt herself being affected by his magic an image of her puppy bloomed inside her mind and helped her regain her composure.

The incubus might surpass her puppy in terms of physical beauty, but she concluded that perfection had its flaws. His skin was overly smooth, lending him an eerie, lifeless quality, and his slim physique and symmetrical features lacked intrigue.

The incubus turned his attention back to Vesperine, giving her a winning smile that made her breath catch. Two fangs shone on the soft candlelight, and he made no attempt to hide them. Vesperine took measured breaths trying to keep her calm, her hand was still clutching her dagger.

She didn’t know the reason for this meeting, but she was sure that it wasn’t an accident. All she could think of was that the order had sent someone to find out the outcome of her mission. She had yet to inform the order of the clusterfuck that had occurred, besides, she had other, more important problems she had to deal with before reaching out to the order.

“You don’t seem affected by me darling? Why is that? Perhaps you would be more interested to one of my sisters?” He seemed to ponder about that, tapping his lower lip with a finger before scoffing. “Nah, my charms work no matter the preferences. Then why?”

He inhaled sharply, making his nostrils flare and his eyes widened in surprise. “Well, well darling! Aren’t you full of surprises!” Vesperine froze for a moment and then she felt like she was sitting on needles.

“I smell the touch of Death on you! Oh!” The man hooted, drawing the attention of every patron in the tavern. “We could make a spectacular couple!” He offered his hand over the table as if waiting for Vesperine to accept his hand in marriage.

Vesperine remained frozen, unable to move even if she desired. Her mind was a tempest, making coherent thoughts a distant memory. He had uncovered her darkest secret, her most profound vulnerability, in a matter of seconds. Her mask had always been more than a mere uniform; it had been her impenetrable shield guarding the depths of her true identity. Panic and fear swirled within her, threatening to consume her composure.

A cacophony of thoughts and emotions raged within her. What did this incubus know? How had he seen through her carefully constructed façade? She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not now, not with the world suddenly closing in on her. Vesperine clenched her trembling hands under the table, desperately trying to regain control over her rapidly unraveling emotions.

From an early age, Vesperine had learned the art of hiding her face. The cruel mark upon her face had taught her that it elicited only fear and disgust from those who beheld it. Even her own mother, in the few fleeting moments when their eyes had met, couldn't bear to look upon her daughter without an unmistakable expression of revulsion and pain etched onto her features.

Before her mother had made the fateful decision to sell her to the secretive order, Vesperine had grown accustomed to a life of solitude and veiled existence. She had mastered the skill of keeping her face concealed, instinctively avoiding mirrors and shunning the gaze of others. Her self-imposed isolation was her only refuge, a shield against the cruel world that had never accepted her.

When she had been taken into the fold of the order, they had instructed her to always wear a mask, a mandate she embraced with fervor. The prospect of permanently concealing her identity felt like a liberation, a chance to escape the unrelenting torment she had endured. Her mask became more than a symbol of her allegiance; it was her sanctuary, her impenetrable fortress guarding the vulnerability of her true self from a world that had never shown her kindness.

She stared at the incubus, the man that in a moment exposed her most profound vulnerability, his hand outstretched, and the curious eyes of the tavern's patrons fixed upon them. She knew that she needed to act quickly, to regain control of the situation before it spiraled out of hand.

Vesperine took a deep breath, her grip on her dagger tightening, her fingers tracing the cool metal. She met the incubus's gaze with determination in her eyes, pushing aside the vulnerability he had exposed. "I'm not interested in becoming a couple with you," she replied, her voice steady despite the chaos in her mind.

The incubus chuckled softly, withdrawing his hand, seemingly undeterred by her rejection. "Oh, come now, darling. I only meant it in jest." He leaned back in his chair, his grin never faltering.

“Who are you?” Vesperine demanded, “why are you here?” she pressed further.

The perpetual grin never left his face as he responded. “Can't a demon appreciate the company of a captivating stranger without being questioned?" When Vesperine scoffed the man added with a cloyingly sweet voice that would have reduced a weaker woman into a puddle, “you can call me Lucien darling,” and raising his eyebrow suggestively, he added “or whatever else you wish.”

Vesperine's patience was wearing thin, and she leaned in closer, her eyes locked onto his. "I don't appreciate riddles," she replied firmly. "Tell me why you've sought me out."

Before Lucian could respond, the barmaid arrived with a cup of wine, her gaze fixed on him with a dazed expression. Vesperine noticed the subtle signs of the woman's enchantment; Lucian's innate magic was clearly at work. The barmaid stood there, mesmerized by his presence.

"Leave the woman alone," Vesperine demanded, her protective instincts taking over. "She has work to do."

Lucian chuckled, his eyes still fixed on the entranced barmaid. "You're quite attached to humans, aren't you, Vesper?"

Vesperine shot him a sharp look. "Only when they bring me my booze," she retorted, her irritation evident.

The barmaid seemed to snap out of her trance at Vesperine's command, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment as she hurried away. Lucian laughed softly, seemingly unfazed by the interruption.

Lucien swirled his wine and after a sip he grimaced. “This is dreadful! Couldn’t you have chosen a better establishment?”

Vesperine gritted her teeth but refused to be goaded. She watched as Lucien twirled his finger above the cup and muttered a short incantation. The contents of his cup shimmered for a moment and the murky, watered down wine turned into a rich, deep burgundy.

Lucien sighed in pleasure and murmured, “much better,” before taking a big sip of his new drink.

Vesperine's patience reached its breaking point as she demanded one last time, "Lucian, enough! My patience is wearing thin! Why are you here?"

Lucian sighed and reluctantly set his drink down, the playful demeanor vanishing from his face. He stared at her intently, his eyes devoid of their earlier joviality. "You're quite the pushy woman, Vesper."

She held her ground, waiting for his response.

With a deep breath, Lucian finally revealed, "I am an agent of the Lady."

Vesperine froze at the revelation. That was unexpected, her earlier speculations had been false. The Lady had sent one of her dogs to ensure she had been successful, even if Vesperine was sure that the Goddess already knew.

Lucian continued, his tone grave, "Tell me, Vesperine, were you successful in the task the Lady bestowed upon you?"

Vesperine could only nod in response, her voice caught in her throat.

Relief washed over Lucian's features, and he murmured, "Good... That's good to hear. We may still see another sunrise."

The weight of his words hung in the air, and Vesperine couldn't help but feel a mixture of emotions. On the one hand she was relieved that an agent had been sent instead of having to meet with the Smiling Lady face to face. Their previous meeting, when she had made her demand, had been a dreadful nightmare, that had left her shaken for days.

Still, after what she had done, after having hurt her puppy, she loathed to part with the last piece of him she still possessed, his blood. That’s all she had left of him. But the Lady had sent someone to collect, and she couldn’t refuse.

Vesperine's distress continued to weigh on her as she remained silent, contemplating the implications of Lucian's revelation. She couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as he turned to her and asked, "Do you have the item?"

She nodded in response, her gaze fixed on the ruby he produced from his pocket. The gem was the size of his fist and pulsed with an inner light, casting an eerie glow on the tavern table. Vesperine had never seen anything like it before.

"It's time to meet with the Mistress," Lucian announced, his tone solemn.

Vesperine's confusion deepened, and she couldn't contain her curiosity any longer. "Mistress?" she asked. "What do you mean by that? I thought we were meeting the Smiling Lady."

Lucian gave a mirthless smile, revealing his fangs once more. "I forgot that the order uses another name for our Lady. The Smiling Lady is the Blood Mistress."

Vesperine's heart froze at the revelation. The Blood Mistress? The true patron of the order? The implications of this revelation left her stunned. The Blood Mistress’s reputation was notorious, her cruel and vicious nature sparked nightmares even in the most religious souls. The knowledge that she had been in contact with such a deity made Vesperine even more desperate to get out of the web of deceit and lies she had been embroiled in.

Lucian, growing impatient, made a sound of frustration. "Touch the ruby," he ordered, "the time is growing near."

With hesitant fingers, Vesperine reached out and touched the pulsating ruby. As soon as her skin made contact with the gem, she felt a presence, cold and overbearing, touch her core. It was a sensation both eerie and eerily familiar. Before she could comprehend what was happening, she was transported away from the tavern, leaving behind tendrils of power, hungry for sustenance.

The tendrils writhed and crawled on the tavern floor like bloated worms and before anyone could notice their presence they had already latched onto the nearest patrons. The barmaid fled into the night screaming, but a tendril of the Blood Mistress had already managed to latch onto her like a comforting scarf around her neck, siphoning away her life essence.