A formidable haze greeted him as his eyelids slit open. In a few squints, the obscurity departed. Skulls crawled across the floor crowned with candles. Their mild vermillion flames purged a scant influence of darkness. The moist, meek chamber rank of putrid flesh – a stench bearing a hostile essence. It inflamed Sylun's nostrils and crumpled his face.
"Look who's awake?" It was the same ashen masked man from the brothel, sitting cross-legged, just a few yards away.
Sylun rattled in manacles. The chilling steel pressed against his wrists and ankles as he laid like a pig to be slaughtered.
"Where am I?"
"Every mongrel deserves an answer." the figure said as he rose, and replied with a wicked stomp on the captive's head.
"Eh, blood. Come on, lick it like the mutt you were raised to be."
"Make me."
He jammed a flurry of kicks into Sylun's mouth, knocking out a teeth or three. Greyish fluid gushed out of his mouth, trickling down his blunt chin.
"Enough. Don't spill a single more drop of blood. There's a lot more tantalizing methods to satiate your hunger." the order boomed from behind.
A hooded pair emerged into Sylun's view.
"Why are we even needing this maggot, my lord? I can't help it, I've held back my urges for too long. The princess and I would've sufficed."
"Defy my words if you wish Derod, but you know the outcome. Remember, what you say about him mirrors you're hatred towards me and Mara as well. Have you forgotten your past?"
Derod retreated, brows creased, slamming the edge of his heel against Sylun's nose.
The Anomaly raised his trembling eyes. The duo sheltered their faces under the darkest tint of bronze. The timid beams ricocheted off the glazed surfaces. They revealed the crevices of masks imitating the skeletal features. One of their sclera were stained with hints of grey, the other's shone like polished rubies.
"Tell me, what is it like to be an exception? Arrogant? Feared? Or perhaps, damned to be such a misfit?" the taller figure stepped forward and squatted.
"What do you know about being an Anomaly? Each breath I inhale is a curse. Your coward lapdog decimated the only home I had."
Derod lunged towards the accuser. He prepared to unleash the suppressed rage, but his master raised a hand, preventing the assault.
"Tell me. Did your mother ever forsake you? Or did she ever torment you for an outcast?"
"No, never" Sylun said.
"I truly envy you." the grey-eyed man stood up, lowering his chin and sighed. "Despite having the same blood flowing in us, never have I felt the warmth of my mother's touch. My father never acknowledged me as his offspring."
"What do you mean 'the same blood'?"
"You'll learn all in due time. Listen, I'll be as impartial as death, and you can rest assure that I'll protect this vow, Anomaly. I'll let you live, if you play by my words."
"Over my damned corpse." Sylun revolted.
His eyelids narrowed as he snapped his fingers twice. More candles enthroned on skulls respired into existence, illuminating the chamber.
"Bring it in." he said.
Iron boots clanked. A guard dragged in a chained body, rather a corpse. The only differences were the muffled speech and constant quivers of head concealed by a bag. He bowed and left as his lord waved the back of gloved hand.
"I believe this shall serve as the fair price. Let's not keep our guest waiting."
Derod marched over and ripped the cover.
Sylun's eyes bulged, throbbing.
"Mother!" he howled.
The shackled prostitute writhed like her son, futile and breathless.
"Sylun… don't worry… he's –"
"Who gave you the permission to speak? Derod, if you'd please."
"Of course, my lord."
Derod indulged in clubbing and pounding the mother like a rabid bitch. Sylun's emotions whirled, consuming his rationale like a twister, however, not a single spark of power ignited. Overwhelmed and dazed, he looked down at himself like his shadow. It's an entity that's always been there yet it can never deliver him from a catastrophe.
"Wait! I'll do whatever is within my reach! Spare her!"
The spine and ribs cracked. Blood shot in spurts, striking Sylun's face as he responded with sharp jerks.
"I'll do anything! Just make him stop!"
"Derod, restrain yourself." he commanded, succeeding a chortle. He faced Sylun, clearing his throat.
"There's a task I have for you. Have you ever heard of Omnitite?"
"I've learnt about it in the underground guilds, it stood out as a rumor to me. I believe it's a just a bland myth."
"This 'myth' you speak of is a sacred mineral. I've confirmed its existence through a little research." He stopped for a while, coughing. "It'll uplift my curse. Retrieve a pound of Omnitite crystals from the Reaper's Summit before the Ghoul's Eclipse."
The circumstances victimized him. He pondered about his fate and retaliated a question.
"Even if I succeed to fulfill my role, you'll dispose me like the abortions I've seen in the brothel. I need a proof of your commitment." Sylun's said.
"Ah, emotions always consumes a youth's spirit. I'll not present one, but two instead."
He signaled the henchman who glided in a blink, placing a dagger against the squirming slut's throat. With an initial careful touch, he slid the weapon's serrated edge across her skin. He dug deeper with each movement, pausing in a periodic pattern. The skin was allowed to stitch itself back, sealing the wound as she wailed.
The screams wouldn't cannon from his vocal chords. Sylun held his breath, closing his eyes.
"I'll do it. Please, I beg of you, stop!"
"That's more reasonable. Let's ensure I keep my fair share of the bargain. Here's the second."
The master flicked his wrist, gesturing Derod to proceed. He leapt at Sylun and extracted an azure vial, forcing the content down Sylun's throat.
The servant drew out a knife and landed the sharp blade against Sylun's left thumb. He severed it in a single strike. The victim gasped, grinding his teeth. Derod's forehead creased when blood sprayed into round beak of a nose. He carefully exposed the bleeding end to a flickering candle flame.
The flare molted its former color of vermillion. It morphed into a sinister shade of green, one resembling the glazy scale of a wyrm.
"My lord, this is strange. How does he possess Neronium blood? He can't be one of us?"
"He's a Half-blood. Carry on, don't let your thoughts intervene."
The flame swelled and swelled. Derod crouched. "Hope this hurts." He jabbed the blazing end into Sylun's left cheek, inflicting a remorseless burn. "Stay still!"
He stroked the fuming finger down and raised it back. Convulsions overwhelmed the Anomaly, challenging Derod to continue branding a symbol imitating an arrowhead. He delivered final mark, a blotch tailed with an inclined line. The brand settled in place, saturated in a hybrid of pitch black and dark emerald.
The master cackled. "Utilize that Neronium flowing in your veins effectively. Double cross me, and you'll wish to reside in hell."
Sylun's jaws stretched, moaning. He flailed as a snake would if it were caged in an eagle's talons.
"Papa, are you sure about purifying a scum like him? Granting him power is a macabre decision." The watchful spectator said, standing behind her father. She observed the whole ritual in a frigid silence. "There's something… something off about him."
The father laughed, inclining his head back. "My dear Mara, fear not. I'm aware of my actions. I know you're eager to forsake the bleak, old halls of this ruinous castle for me."
He brushed his palm along the maiden's flowing, silver hair. "Derod and Sylun will be at your disposal. I'd jeopardized my life if I were able to cross this infernal domain's curse."
"If you say so, Papa." she replied with a soft, descending voice. "But I can still feel the remains of Anomaly blood boil inside him."