The newly inducted Crimson falls to the ground, coughing violently. He looks up to see the Siren, now known as Fey, staring down at him. Her hand no longer bleeding.
Crimson goes to speak but is cut off by an increasing burning sensation surfacing in his throat. He grasps at his throat, feeling Fey’s blood growing in temperature. It continues to increase until the burning causing Crimson to convulse in pain. Just as Crimson’s consciousness begins to fade the pain stops. He gasps for breath and looks up to Fey in anger.
“Are you trying to kill me!” Crimson screams. “If so could you make it faster?”
Fey crouches, lifting up his chin and taking a long look at his neck. Nodding she pulls out her axe. The action causing Crimson to flinch. Instead of cutting off Crimson’s head like he assumed she would, she places the axe head in front of him like a mirror.
“Take a look at your neck.” She says, a smirk playing on her face.
Crimson does as she says and notices a bloody handprint on his neck. He touches it with his hands, feeling nothing different from his skin. He tries to rub away the blood but fails, the mark not even smudging at his attempts.
“What did you do?” He says.
“Welcome to Stena, initiate,” She says, returning her axe to the sheathe on her back. “Let’s hope you don’t disappoint.”
Crimson looks up at her, pointing at his throat.
“Want to explain the mark?” He says. “I don’t remember agreeing to that. What even is it?”
“It’s a permanent mark. It shows that someone has inducted you into Stena,” Fey says, almost as if it’s a practiced explanation. “Our most valuable tool and gift.”
Crimson stands up, rubbing the new mark on his throat and staring daggers at the Siren.
“So I’m a member now?” He asks, his voice still holding hostility
“Not yet, you still have to pass initiation.” Fey corrects.
“What happens to the mark if I don’t?” Crimson asks. “Does it disappear?”
Fey thinks for a moment before shaking her head.
“No, it’s permanent.” She says. “Usually if people fail then there dead, so I don’t see the need to make it disappear.”
Crimson rolls his eyes, not surprised at the answer.
“So where are we going?” He asks.
Fey points towards Crimson’s village.
“First you’re going to collect your stuff,” She says. “While you do that I’ll be taking anything valuable from the houses and bodies. Burning is all we can do for them anyway, no time to bury them all.”
Crimson looks at her in disgust.
“So you’re going to go loot my village?”
The Siren nods as she begins to walk towards the village.
“Better I have it than let it burn with them.”
With that she walks towards Crimson’s village, intent on nicking anything of value.
Crimson shakes his head and begins walking towards his house. Intent on grabbing his few necessary supplies and one keepsake.
----------------------------------------------------
Exiting his house, he sees Fey waiting outside. She looks at him and her eyes zero on the bag strapped on his shoulder.
“What’s in the bag?” She asks, her eyes still looking at the bag.
Crimson shrugs, trotting over towards her.
“Nothing much,” He says. “Just clothing and a keepsake.”
Upon hearing his answer, she snatches the bag off his shoulder without effort. Crimson reaches towards the bag in anger.
“You’re going to loot me too?” He says to her, his opinion of her dropping considerably.
Ignoring him Fey digs through the bag as he tries to stop her. She eventually finds a small silver watch. The initials SG imprinted onto the side. She hands the bag back to Crimson and looks at the watch.
“What is this?” She asks, still examining the watch.
“It’s my sister’s old watch.” He says. “The last thing I have of her.”
“Did she die in the attack?” Fey asks.
“No, she disappeared a few years back. Along with my father,” Crimson sighs. “I’m glad they did. Wouldn’t want them to have seen this.”
Fey looks at it and back at him. She lets out a long sigh. Then crushes the watch in her hand, throwing away the remains. Crimson rushes to pick up the watch but is stopped by Fey’s arm, easily keeping him away from it.
“The hell was that for!” He yells. “If you didn’t want it why didn’t you just give it back!”
Fey forces Crimson back, throwing him to the ground in the process. She walks over to him and grabs him by the hem of his shirt.
“Do yourself a favor and forget about that. Forget about this life. Forget about Grim and anything attached to him,” She says, looking Crimson in the eyes as she does. “He’s dead. So forget about him, or you’ll get caught up in the regrets that come with that life. And lose your new one in the process.”
Fey drops Crimson and begins walking out of the village. Crimson stares at the watch for a few moments before standing up and dusting himself off. Fighting the urge to pick it up he listens to the Siren’s words and turns away. Leaving his old life behind him, but the screams seem to follow.
Jogging to catch up to Fey, Crimson reaches her and matches her stride. Neither saying a word for well over an hour of walking. Crimson eventually looks up at her, finally taking note of the Siren’s appearance.
Her looks are a major contrast to her personality. While her personality is blunt and seemingly mean, her looks are sharp. Each part of her is defined, almost as if crafted by an artist. A large scar on the right side of her upper lip, with numerous smaller ones scattered about. Pale blue eyes scanning the horizon with a vigilance honed by years of combat. Brown hair tied behind her head, reaching just a few inches past her shoulder blades. Her height being fairly tall, six-two by Crimson’s guess.
His eyes travel down. Noticing her well-crafted armor, clearly meant for protection above all else. Plates of a silver like metal covering the majority of the body. Any areas requiring flexibility are protected by an almost scale covering, leaving few areas weak to attack. The most striking part is the helmet tucked underneath Fey’s arm. The helmet being made of the same material as the armor, the same scale like pieces covering the back of the helmet. The front having a flap to open, most likely to eat while wearing it. Two small eyes slits allowing vision while being small enough to stop arrows. Carvings mark a bulk of the smooth helm, ranging from rows of tallies to what looks like the scratch mark of a cat.
The only other noticeable piece Crimson sees is a masklike scarf around Fey’s neck. Made out of something similar to the scale like material, the only difference being the color. While the other pieces are gray in color, the scarf is almost pitch black. Like it’s killing the light around it.
Before Crimson can continue, Fey notices him staring.
“Oh great, I inducted a creep.” She says, face palming.
Crimson goes to explain but notices a detail he missed in his first examination, Fey was missing the induction mark he had just received.
“Why don’t you have a mark?” He asks, curiosity getting the best of him.
Fey pulls the black scaled scarf over her face, covering her neck in the process.
“I wasn’t inducted,” She says. “Not like you were anyway.”
Seeing her obvious discomfort, Crimson doesn’t push the issue and instead walks in silence. After walking long enough to where Crimson’s feet have grown numb Fey stops.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“We’ll stay here for the night. The HQ is still a few day’s walk away,” She says, walking towards a nearby tree. “You look dead on your feet anyway.”
Crimson sits on the ground and leans back, stretching out on the grass.
“I thought you said we were going to an outpost,” He says. “What changed?”
“It’s best we don’t waste time,” She shrugs. “Figured you didn’t want to stay around that area much longer.”
“Thanks.” Crimson says, surprised at her.
Fey sits underneath the tree and leans against it, setting her axe beside her.
“Don’t thank me yet,” She says with a laugh. “We’re walking the rest of the way nonstop. No more time for delays.”
“I get the feeling I won’t like it.” Crimson says with a less than excited face.
The Siren just shrugs and leans back against the tree, placing her helmet on her head.
“Get some sleep,” She says, her voice being slightly altered by the helmet. “It’ll be night soon, and you’ll need the energy.”
Crimson nods and leans back on the grass, closing his eyes on the day.
Fey watches as Crimson lays in the grass, quickly falling asleep. She leans against the tree, intending to do the same. Just as her eyes begin to close, her nose picks up the smell of fur in the wind, that and the smell of blood. Lots of it.
“I guess they were tracking us,” She says, standing up and hefting her axe onto her shoulder. “At least I have bait.”
She turns to look at the tree behind her, a large branch stretching enough to hang just over where Crimson is sleeping. Smirking Fey begins climbing up the tree.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Crimson wakes up to the sound of the grass being trampled, and the unpleasant scent of blood. Looking around he sees the moon in the sky, leaving him just enough light to take in his surroundings. Still smelling blood, he looks over to where Fey was and is startled to see her missing. He rises to his feet, and begins calling out for her.
“Fey!” He calls into the darkness, hearing no reply. “Scary Siren, want to tell me where you’re hiding?”
This time his call is answered by a low growl. Crimson turns, reaching to his back for his bow. Upon finding nothing but air, he instead looks for the threat. In the tall grass he manages to spot a pair of amber eyes staring at him. He strains his eyes to see what the eyes belong to but instead finds a dozen or so other pairs alongside the first. Crimson begins backing away from the them, he turns to run but falls on his rear as another pair closes in on him from behind.
Seeing no escape Crimson stares at the eyes until he can see his imminent death. The creature is almost wolf like in nature. Fur covering most of its body. A quadruped with claws on each foot, and snapping jaws. The only abstract parts are its size, and seemingly hypnotic gaze. Standing nearly double the size of a regular wolf it hulks over Crimson. Despite the fear building in his gut Crimson can’t look away from the amber eyes, the stare not allowing him to break eye contact. It continues to stalk forward toward Crimson snarling and arching it’s back readying for a pounce. Before the creature can sink its jaws into Crimson’s flesh a large figure lands on it from above, crushing it instantly.
Crimson covers his eyes, avoiding any viscera the flattened creature spewed during its death. Standing from the corpse, Fey stretches her arms.
“Man, that tree was not a comfortable,” She says, pulling her axe from the sheathe on her back. “Stay back kid, this could get messy.”
Crimson scrambles for the tree and climbs atop it, getting a clear view of Fey staring down more than a dozen of those creatures. Fey pulls the flap of her helmet down, covering her face. The creatures stare her down, the slits of her helmet revealing no expression.
One of the creatures leap at her, intent to rip out her throat. Fey turns on the creature. Her axe burying itself into the creature’s neck and eventually ripping through it. Fey pulls her axe back to her side, not bothering a second glance at the decapitated creature. The remaining enemies growing more cautious and return to circling Fey.
Four begin closing in. Seeing an opening Fey charges into the bulk of the pack. Her foot connects with one of the creatures that lunged at her, the blow killing the creature on impact. Her axe cuts another in half as she continues plowing through the pack, intent on finding something within their numbers.
Crimson climbs high in the tree and sees what she’s after. In the back of the pack is a larger, scarier looking creature. Its face is scarred and clearly older than the rest of its pack. Fey grabs another by the throat, crushing it and throwing its corpse at one that lunge at her from behind.
Eventually she reaches the alpha and stops in her tracks. The remaining creatures giving her a wide berth. The alpha growls at Fey menacingly. She readies her axe. The last five of the alpha’s pack all pounce at one, intent on bringing down the Siren. Planting her foot into the dirt, Fey levels her axe and whips it around her body. Her blade easily cutting through four of them. She then drops her weapon and catches the last one, slamming it into the ground with enough force to shatter its spine.
With the distraction, the alpha launches itself on her back. The jaws attempting to dig into Fey’s throat but failing to puncture through her scaled armor. Fey reaches to her back and grabs onto the alpha’s fur. Ripping it off and throwing the beast to the ground. The alpha yelps in pain and tries to retreat from her. Just as the creature goes to run, Fey picks her axe up. She lifts it over head and overhand throws it, the blade finding purchase in the alpha’s back.
The alpha tumbles to the ground, whimpering as the Siren approaches it. She reaches down and pulls her axe out of the creature, causing it to howl in pain. With a sinister grin Fey raises the axe over her head, then slams it down cutting through flesh like butter.
“Kid, if you had to choose. Would you rather support as an archer?” She says lifting up her faceplate and not bothering to look at Crimson. “Or would you prefer something else?”
Crimson looks down at her from the tree, “I guess supporting wouldn’t be bad. I doubt my bow will do much damage to larger monsters anyway.”
“Then get down here,” Fey says, her eyes filling with a hunger the more she stares at the monster. “Before I get greedy.”
Crimson hops down next to her. He walks up next to her and crouches next to the beast.
“You Sirens sure are powerful,” He says in awe. “How do you even get so strong? I didn’t think humans could do that.”
“I’m about to tell you how. So listen carefully,” She says, her eyes still hungry. “It’ll probably save your life.”
“Ominous...”
Fey crouches down and cuts into the beast’s neck, allowing a small trickle of blood to flow.
“What happens to humans when they consume the blood of most monster?” Fey asks while pooling the blood in her hands.
“They die, quite horribly too,” Crimson says, trying not to imagine it. “Unless I’m mistaken their body tries to become said monster.”
Fey nods, still pooling the blood in her hands.
“That mark on your neck makes you able to survive their blood,” She says, her eyes staring into the blood. “That and something else.”
“What els-“
Crimson is cut off by Fey grabbing him by the head and holding his mouth open with one hand.
“You wouldn’t do this unless I forced you so don’t blame me,” She says, raising her hand filled with blood over Crimson’s open mouth. “It’s better than choking it down.”
Crimson begins struggling against her hand to no avail, seeing no other option he closes his eyes and waits for it to be over. His acceptance is rewarded by a taste unlike any other hitting his tongue. The sweetest thing he’d ever had. Crimson begins swallowing reflexively to avoid drowning in the blood. Despite the revulsion at the act, his body refuses to cough up the blood. The taste forcing his body to ingest it, almost as if it’s hungry for it. Just as soon as the blood started, it stopped flowing.
Crimson opens his eyes and looks at Fey.
“What the hell was that!” He says, scared for his safety. “Why did it taste like that?”
Fey kneels next to him and checks the mark on his neck. The mark glows brightly and radiates heat, before cooling and going back to the usual dark color.
“The mark allows you to empower yourself with the blood of monsters,” She says, letting go of Crimson’s neck. “It only works shortly after the monster’s death.”
“So the marks make it possible, but I’ve heard of other…organizations that have abilities. Is that just hearsay?” Crimson asks curiously, an edge still in his voice. “Honestly, Stena was a bit of a legend before you walked up so I’m not sure what is and isn’t anymore.”
“For a village idiot you’ve got good vocabulary, any formal education?” She asks with a surprised look.
“My father taught me a lot,” Crimson answers swiftly. “Never talked about how he knew so much.”
“Well…that’ll make things easier, as for your question…” She rubs her chin for a moment before looking back to him. “I’ve seen a few factions replicate it, usually goes horribly wrong. They do it through experimentation or simple butchery, what Stena does has been passed down for as long as it’s been around. Minimization of the side effects of dealing with monster blood while maximizing the benefits.”
“So what? I get superhuman strength now?” Crimson says skeptically. “Or do I start growing fur. What does the maximum benefit get me?”
“No idea, could be either,” She says. “Everyone gets something a little different from every monster. Lunypnas usually have a helpful quirk for giving support abilities or traits.”
Crimson stands up and looks at the dead beast, then back to Fey.
“Why wouldn’t you drink it too?” He says. “And why isn’t everyone in Stena unstoppable because of this?”
Fey begins wiping her axe off on the lunypna’s fur, leaving a streak of blood across it’s fur.
“Only one person can drink it without those nasty side effects I mentioned,” She says. “As to why don’t become all powerful with that power, it’s all because of what that would make us. If we drink too much too fast, we risk becoming monsters ourselves. That’s also why we only drink a handful.”
Fey stands up, her axe clean. She returns the blade to her back, patting it slightly as she does. Though making no sound as to indicate it.
“We have to be capable of holding back our urges to keep our sense of self,” She says. “A bloodlust will grow within you. You have to control it, or risk becoming what you have sworn to destroy. A real classic tale. Just make sure you don’t become a monster, few people come back from it.”
Crimson nods slowly, “What do we gain from the blood exactly, just get stronger and look like them?”
Fey nods.
“Possibly, you can also get some pretty effective mutations.” She says, removing her helmet. “If you’re lucky you’ll get something from that lunypna.”
“Like what?” He asks with raised brows
“Most reports say night vision, enhanced reflexes, extra hair, and sometimes sharpened teeth,” She shrugs. “The rarest is the hypno eyes those things have. Very rare, yet very powerful. Any mutation should set in within a day.”
Crimson nods, somewhat excited but also terrified of what he may become.
“I guess hypnosis would be cool. Though the extra hair would be annoying.” He says.
“Yeah, it was older than most so you have a better chance of getting it,” She says ignoring his last comment. “We’ll have to take some precautions to make sure you don’t abuse it.”
“Guess that makes sense,” Crimson nods. “What mutations have you gotten anyway?”
Fey looks at him with a harsh face but softens quickly.
“Asking others of their abilities is considered taboo to most monster hunters, that and asking their actual names,” She says, pulling up her scarf. “Usually shared with those close to one another, or teammates, but those tend to go hand in hand.”
“Sorry, I didn’t know.” Crimson says, rubbing the back of his neck.
“Not your fault, should have told you beforehand,” She says. “If you stumble upon any other taboos I fail to mention I’ll let you know. If you piss off another member, then just refer them to me.”
Crimson nods, seemingly happy at the offer of assistance.
“Let’s go, these aren’t worth the time to skin them. Bounties aren’t enough either,” Fey says, trotting off in the direction of the HQ.
Crimson follows up behind her, matching her speed.
“So how long is the walk anyway?” He says with optimism.
“Four days.” She says matter-of-factly
“…great.” A depressed Crimson responds.