Chapter 7: Blood
As Riven trudged back toward the village, his mind was a *tumultuous storm of unanswered questions. Who exactly was that vampire? What did he mean a Seeker? And how could a stranger possess the same mark?
Time bled away as he walked, and by the time Riven safely crossed the threshold into Carláss, the streets were already emptying. The sun was beginning its final descent. Riven lifted his head, his face a mask of cold, emotionless stone, watching the dying light fade as encroaching darkness consumed the world above.
After navigating the winding, shadowed streets, he finally arrived at the familiar diner.
Inside, Sir Renout was quietly wiping down the tables, preparing to close the kitchen for the night. Hearing the scrape of the door opening, the kind, middle-aged man looked up with a warm smile to greet the late customer.
"Welcome, please take a—"
The words died in his throat.
Sir Renout stood stupefied by the visceral sight before him. Riven was coated in a thick, dried crust of mud and dark blood. Even worse were the jagged scars crisscrossing his skin—massive, lethal wounds that looked as though they had miraculously healed overnight, leaving behind an ugly, brutalized canvas of violence.
"Riven... oh, by the gods, what happened to you?" Sir Renout's face twisted with genuine worry. He didn't even wait for an answer. "It doesn't matter. Here, come take a seat and rest. I'll bring you a glass of water and something to eat."
Riven sank into a freshly cleaned wooden chair. He stared blankly at the table in front of him, his expression hollow and unreadable. A moment later, a weathered hand slid a glass of cold water into his line of sight, and Sir Renout pulled up a chair to sit beside him.
"How many times do I have to tell you, Riven? Stop risking your life," the older man pleaded softly. "Come work for me. It's a stable job. I'll pay you good, honest money. I know you have a dream, kid, but if you have to drag yourself through hell to reach it... then it isn't worth it."
Slowly, Riven lifted his gaze to meet Sir Renout's. A faint, chilling smile touched the corners of his lips.
"If a dream doesn't have hell as its path," Riven replied quietly, "then it isn't really a dream, is it, Sir?"
Sir renout remained silent he got up and gave Riven a Hearty Root & Mutton Stew it's a traditional dish given to those who is in need to and known to help restore blood it is made of a thick, slow-cooked stew made with cheap cuts of meat that have been boiled until they fall apart, mixed with potatoes, carrots, and a heavy, savory gravy. Served with a thick slice of crusty bread to soak up the juices , Riven smiled and thanked the middle-aged man and started eating without a care
Deep within the forest, a shadowy figure moved faster than the eye could follow, fleeing endlessly with no apparent destination.
A low, charming voice drifted through the trees, laced with a dark smile. "How pathetic. Run all you want."
The charming gentleman sighed as the underside of his left wrist began to pulse with a faint, white light.
The shadow sprinted for what felt like thousands of meters, lungs burning, pushing himself past the brink of exhaustion. _"That bastard... he betrayed us,"_ the figure muttered frantically beneath his breath. _"I knew we shouldn't have trusted him. Dammit! Dammit!"_ Bursting through the thicket as fast as his legs could carry him, the shadow suddenly skidded to a halt.
A white-haired figure already stood directly in his path.
Magnus stood perfectly still, casually cleaning his curved dagger as if nothing else in the world mattered. "Ah, it seems the forest loves me today. I wonder why," he mused in a mock-empathetic tone, letting out a slow, quiet laugh.
The shadowed man gritted his teeth, disbelief and fury warping his features. "How?" he choked out, anger rising in his voice. "HOW?! What did you do? Why are you so strong, you litt—"
His words were abruptly cut short.
The lower half of his jaw simply detached, sliding off his face and hitting the earth with a wet thud. A torrent of crimson painted his clothes and the forest floor.
"Ah, please don't shout," Magnus murmured. "I have sensitive ears, you already know that. It's not a very nice thing to do."
Returning his attention to cleaning his blade, Magnus hummed nonchalantly, a calm melody drifting through the bloody forest.
_Now that I have taken care of this,_ he thought, his crimson eyes gleaming in the dark. _I should go check on my new disciple._
Back in the village, Riven finished the last of his meal. He stood up, wiping his mouth, and offered Sir Renout a slight, respectful bow. "Thank you for the food, Sir. I will repay you soon."
The middle-aged man waved his hand up and down in a dismissive gesture. "You can repay me by no longer risking your life," he implored.
Riven had already closed the distance to the exit. With his back facing the diner owner, he paused at the door. Without turning his body, he tilted his head just enough to look over his shoulder.
"I will pay you back soon," Riven repeated quietly. "Have a good night, Sir."
With that, he pushed open the door and slipped over the threshold, vanishing into the dark, empty streets of Carláss.
After navigating the dark streets, Riven finally made it back to his dilapidated home. Pushing open the creaking door, he stepped into the familiar solitude of his house. He immediately began unpacking his gear, peeling off his mud-caked and blood-stiffened garments to wash them.
After scrubbing the grime and dried blood from his skin with cold water, he donned a fresh set of simple clothes and collapsed onto the worn couch. Propping one hand behind his head like a pillow, he raised his left arm toward the ceiling, his eyes locking onto the Seeker's Mark etched into his wrist.
Then, a sudden realization struck him.
_How am I going to meet Magnus again? I didn't even ask him for a time or a meeting place._
He let out a heavy sigh, a flicker of mild frustration crossing his face. But then he relaxed slightly.
_The guy has unnatural powers,_ Riven reasoned. _I'm sure he can track down the only Infamous nameless in a village this small._
Suddenly, a cold whisper **brushed** against his right ear.
"Hello there."
Riven snapped his head to the side, fear and shock widening his eyes. But there was nothing there. Assuming his exhausted mind was playing tricks on him, he forced his muscles to relax and let his gaze drift back to the ceiling.
And there he was.
A man wearing a red leather jacket hung perfectly upside down from the rafters, defying gravity. Magnus offered a charming, inverted smile.
"Hi there. Long time no see. Did you miss your master, tall boy?"
Riven vaulted off the couch with incredible speed, his heart hammering against his ribs. "What the—"
"I know, I know," Magnus interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. "I'm sorry I didn't visit you sooner. As your master, that was terribly lazy of me."
A chaotic mix of emotions warred across Riven's face, but utter confusion won out. "How did you... when did you..."
He took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down for a second, and finally said, "what are you doing here master "
Magnus dropped swiftly from the ceiling, his feet hovering for a fraction of a second before finally touching the floorboards. "I just came by to see how you live, and it turns out it is miserable. No wonder you want to kill those innocent villagers."
Riven's eyes flared with sudden anger. "Don't call them innocent," he spat. "Those animals don't care about anything unless it offers them value. They watch me walk by every day, yet all they see is nothing. They refuse to acknowledge my existence. I bleed and starve every single day, yet no one cares. But if the child of some high-noble trash so much as stumbles, everyone rushes to coddle them. Status is everything in this world, and I have none. To them, my value is nothing—so I will value them as nothing in return. If I was born without worth, then I will forge my own."
"Wow, kid. You are dark," he finally said, a small, sinister smile curving his pale lips. "Well then, you will just have to train so you can kill them all. How incredibly fortunate for you that your new master happens to be an excellent killer. Prepare yourself, kid."