The figure froze as Seraphina's blade pressed against his chest, her violet eyes piercing under his hood with a cold glare. Slowly, with trembling hands, the hooded figure pulled back his hood, revealing the gaunt, sharp-eyed face of the man she had interrogated in the slums.
At first, Seraphina didn't recognize him, but as the tension lingered in the air, the memory resurfaced.
She had questioned him not long ago, cornering him for information about the slums and the undercity— she didn't expect to ever run into him again.
Her gaze hardened as realization struck.
"You."
She said, her tone sharp and accusing.
"What are you doing here? Why are you following me?"
The man's expression flickered between fear and defiance— he was fearful of the blade hanging by his body, but he was also angry that he was in this situation to begin with.
He straightened slightly, though it did little to mask his unease.
"You're not as hard to find as you might think."
He replied, his voice low but steady— a slight tremble in his tone as he spoke.
"You stand out more than you think. Someone like you doesn't just blend into the crowd— especially not in a place like Vesta."
Her grip on the blade didn't waver as she took a step closer, her presence looming over him— the man tried to move back but she was holding him in place with her hand.
"How?"
She demanded— she didn't want some stupid answer like that, she wanted methods, actual scenarios so she could figure out a way to deal with it.
"How did you track me?"
The man hesitated, his eyes darting to the side as if searching for an escape route, but he quickly realized there wasn't one. He sighed heavily and looked back at her, his voice laced with bitter resignation.
"The slums have their own way of spreading word. Someone talks, and it ripples out. You've already made an impression— asking questions, poking where you don't belong. It's not hard to piece together where you'd be."
Seraphina's jaw tightened.
The thought of her activities being noticed put her on edge— she knew she would be noticed eventually, she knew she was being watched as well, the hooded figures, or at least someone related to them, had already found their room.
She just didn't expect to be found by just anyone in the slums— it seems she had acted with too little thought of the ripple effect. She was too used to living sheltered.
Her voice dropped to a cold, commanding tone
"And why are you following me now?"
The man's shoulders slumped, and his bravado cracked slightly under her scrutiny.
"I didn't have a choice."
He muttered.
"After what I told you, someone found out. The undercity doesn't take kindly to snitches. They've marked me, and I can't go back without risking my life."
"That sounds like your problem, not mine."
Seraphina's words were sharp and unfeeling, but the man shook his head quickly, desperation flickering in his eyes.
"No, listen— please. You don't understand. They know you've been asking questions. They know someone's been poking around where they shouldn't. You're not safe either. That's why I came to you."
She didn't lower her blade, instead, she only pressed it against his chest deeper— threatening to pierce him.
"So, you followed me for what? To drag me into your mess?"
"No!"
He said quickly, shaking his head.
"I want to help you. I've got nowhere else to go. If I'm going to survive, I need protection. And you— you need someone who knows the slums, someone who can move in the shadows."
He knelt suddenly, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender— his head facing the ground in his attempt to bow.
His voice grew quieter, almost pleading.
"I'll swear myself to you. I'll do whatever you want— anything. Just... protect me."
Seraphina stared down at him, her blade still in her hand waiting to cut him down at a moment's notice. She saw through his desperation, recognizing the self-preservation driving his words— he had no loyalty, if he had he wouldn't even be here.
It was survival masked as servitude— yet, even as she doubted his sincerity, the potential usefulness of such a connection crossed her mind.
Her expression remained cold, unreadable.
"Loyalty earned through fear is no loyalty at all."
She said and added onto it.
"I don't trust you."
The man flinched, but Seraphina instead lowered the blade slightly, not enough that he could pose a threat to her, but enough to show that she had considered it.
"But I might be willing to give you a chance to prove yourself."
His eyes widened slightly, hope mingling with his fear. He looked up at her cautiously, unsure if her words were genuine or a cruel game.
"What do you want me to do?"
Seraphina took a step back, her eyes glancing to the side briefly before looking back at him— a thought had suddenly appeared in her mind; she wanted to use him to accomplish her initial idea of forming a group.
"In five days, I want you to find people in the slums. Not just anyone— people with nowhere to go, no loyalty to the undercity, and nothing to live for. Bring them to me, here, willingly."
The man's face twisted with uncertainty.
"That won't be easy. People like that... they're watched. If I start sniffing around, I'll draw attention. It'll put me in even more danger."
Seraphina's blade flashed for a moment as it reached the man's neck once more, the cold steel pressing against his skin.
"You can either take that chance."
She said, her voice low as she threatened him.
"Or you can end up in danger now."
The man froze, his breath catching as he felt the blade's edge— he swallowed hard, his fear evident in the way his hands trembled.
"Okay."
He said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'll do it. Five days."
Seraphina held his gaze for a long moment before finally stepping back and lowering her sword. The man stumbled to his feet, his movements shaky as he backed away.
"Don't fail me."
She said, her tone carrying an unspoken warning.
"Or I'll find you. And I won't be so lenient next time."
The man nodded quickly, his desperation clear as he turned and disappeared into the shadows.
Seraphina sheathed her blade, her mind racing with various thoughts. Her actions had been guided by instinct and gut feeling, but now she needed to think carefully about the next steps.
She didn't trust him— his loyalty was flimsy at best— but he might still serve a purpose if he could be used right. If he could gather the right people, it would give her the foothold she needed to begin building something larger.
For now, she would wait and see if he proved himself— and if he didn't... well, she had ways of dealing with that.
She turned back toward the inn and resumed her walk back.