Divine Calendar Year 5568
The Faceless Realm
Outer World: The Forsaken World
***
In a cold world separated from reality and the eyes of the gods, a lone, blonde figure roamed in a lonely straight line through the thick layers of snow.
Her pained face was ashen as she stumbled through the pitiless whirlwind of ice and snow by sheer willpower alone. Cold, ragged breaths escaped from her parched lips. Her arms lay limp at her sides, bloody.
"Uh...huff...mom...dad...Tina...uncle...huff... Don't worry...ugh...I...I will definitely...I will...destroy...the Empire..."
***
[Nova's POV]
"I know this might sound strange coming from me, Nyx, but I need you to hear me out," I said to the grey-eyed, androgynous boy who was now seated, cross-legged, on the crystalline floor of the cavern. Nyx gave me a sarcastic grin. It was a familiar, sarcastic expression of his which I had come to understood meant: 'What peculiar and perverted idea is scouring your mind now? I am so~ NOT excited to hear about it!'
It had just been a few minutes since the unknown man attacked us but I had nearly forgotten all about his intimidating presence that had nearly frozen my blood. Now, I was more concerned about...
I cleared my throat. "We need to recruit this guy," I finally revealed.
Nyx's brows lifted. "Because he's strong?" He asked and rubbed his chin carefully. Then he looked up at me with knitted brows. "He was quite fast when he attacked us earlier. That could be a valuable asset to us," he reasoned logically.
Nyx was somewhat of a mage while I was... Well, I was still trying to figure out what I was. Maybe a warlock, or a mage like Nyx? At that moment, however, both of us were severely lacking in terms of close-ranged combat and speed.
I smiled. "That's exactly my point! The problem is... I'm not sure how to make him partner up with a lost young 'mother' and her 'son'," I explained and paused as an intriguing thought struck me, "Oho. Or maybe..." I lowered my voice into a whisper.
"Should I seduce him?" My gaze flickered evilly at the consideration. It wasn't a bad idea.
I had no clue why Nyx looked so conflicted at my suggestion. He deliberately avoided my eyes and changed the topic. "So I assume this means we'll need to recruit some other people along the way? Like a cleric, an alchemist...uh, but I'd personally like to discover whether alchemy is possible in this world..." Nyx articulated thoughtfully.
It was interesting now that we sat down and actually considered the future—a term that I had once abandoned. My eyes lit up as it hit me for the umpteenth time. Indeed, there was a 'future' ahead of me. A rather long one, in fact, in which I would explore a different world.
I scratched my head with a wry smile. My eyes were starting to light up with new emotions. "I feel like I'm back in highschool again, conflicted about how I'm about to be released into society," I spoke nostalgically.
Nyx murmured, "Me too." I wanted to comment that he had never gone to highschool, but then I noticed his warm smile. I smiled back.
Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. Looking behind, it was the masked man from earlier. He had vanished for a few minutes without a word. Now, he was back.
I hoped he had not had a change of heart and decided to kill us off...
Nonetheless, the conversation that would follow would confound me for many days to come. But I didn't know this yet.
"You're a dark witch, aren't you?" He asked suddenly, his tone low and deep. Yet he vaguely sounded as though he did not need an answer. This was just a confirmation he needed to decide his next step. To outsiders, his enchanting, blue eyes were the only window to the rest of him. But even those eyes failed to transmit anything besides frigidity.
Vaguely, I felt a sense of familiarity as our eyes interlocked.
"Huh? Dark witch...?" I repeated dubiously. I knew what it was. It was me. But...how did he...?
He nodded to himself, as though my nonplussed reaction had answered his question. "I thought so. The monsters which killed your family must have been lured by your blood as the blood of dark witches is quite special and one of a kind," he remarked. His gaze wandered to Nyx who bore a stark resemblance to me.
"You should be careful that your blood doesn't end up in the wrong hands," he advised me in the same monotone. It made me fleetingly wonder whether his hands were right or wrong.
"Actually, sir, my family and I did not know much of the world outside the labyrinth as we had sought refuge in this place to escape our persecution," I played along, carefully twisting my words to the little information I had.
The dark witches were an extinct species that was hated—for some unknown reason—by the entire world. And I was the last one of those despised people. That meant that I needed power and information more than anything else. Otherwise, I was dead meat.
The man fell silent as he stared quietly at me, studying my expressions. Flickers of suspicion surfaced then vanished from his eyes. "Mm. I can see that," he commented ambiguously, making my forehead wrinkle slightly. What did that mean? A sliver of doubt and suspicion snaked into my gut.
"Well then, do you know the person who is before you?" His low voice sounded, emitting deeply from his hidden lips, reaching my ears like the ripples in a lake.
Nyx furrowed his brows. I could sense his unease, even without looking at him.
"You...who you are?" I repeated, and the man nodded wordlessly before placing a gloved hand on his dark mask. He removed the mask gradually. As soon as my eyes landed on his handsome yet cold features, my gaze froze. I felt as though time had stopped in that moment.
I gulped inaudibly as hot sweat rose from the pores on my arms and back. It felt like there was an acute shortage of air as I held my breath, out of the fear scorching my senses suddenly. His appearance sounded a dormant bell in my heart that consequently awakened some sleeping feelings in my body. Fear. Sadness. Confusion. Anger...
The tall man before me had short yet lustrous jet-black hair—darker than the night itself—that was slicked back without a tendril out of place. He was, indeed, heaven-defyingly handsome, perhaps too gorgeous to be described by mere words. His pitch-black shirt and matching coat clung to his hard, well-defined muscles, complimenting his dark hair and electric-blue eyes.
Nonetheless, I was only frightened as I stared at a 'ghost' of my past(someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to someone of my lonely past), gazing quietly at me with an unsmiling expression.
He hummed, calmly assessing me. "I guess you really don't recognize me. That's unfortunate," he said, his tone even, "I'm the master of this labyrinth. So you don't have to put up an act anymore. Since you don't know me, and I don't know you...we...are not enemies."
My brows drooped, seat trickling down my spine as I pulled out an awkward smile. The man before me looked so much like 'him'...like the kind and observant Adrian White who'd held my hand in a distant, mellow past. Nonetheless, their auras were too different. The man before me radiated coldness. He was not Adrian White, and this was not Earth.
I chuckled dryly at my muddled thoughts. So this was the [Master of Nightmares], the creator of this labyrinth... I scratched my head, averting my gaze, and smiled crookedly. "Well then..." I paused and returned my gaze. My eyes were cold. My emotions had been buried into a shadowy corner. They would never resurface. Not when I adorned this perfect mask. "What do you want from me?" I asked austerely.
He smiled slightly. "Nothing much. Just your blood," he responded casually, slightly lifting and lowering his sheathed, dark sword nonchalantly. The black scabbard was patterned with golden and scarlet dragons.
My brows arched. "My blood?" I heard myself repeat in perplexment. He nodded as though what he'd said was perfectly sensible. "If you periodically give me your blood for the following years—say..." He paused and lifted his eyes to focus on my expression, as though trying to coerce a certain reaction from me, "5 years... I will do whatever you want, provided that your wishes are within my power and do not go against my own will," he explained.
It was the craziest offer I had ever heard of, but the more I ran his words through my mind, the more I recognized the advantages. Not only would I have acquired a powerful ally who could ensure my survival but I would also be able to gain information and resources.
"Can I ask why you want my blood?" I ended up inquiring.
He thought for a moment. "Like I said, your blood is special. And for me, especially, I need it," he answered nebulously, not giving an accurate answer.
Well, he could keep his secrets. Even as a temporary partner for 5 years. My brows knitted as I considered his offer.
'Nyx, what do you think?'
'I'm not sure... He doesn't look like a vampire...not that I've ever seen one though... Honestly, I'm worried how all of this could turn out. But nothing should make us hesitate when we've already faced death once. From now on, I guess...all we can do is forge forward without regrets.'
I nodded at Nyx's solid assurance and locked eyes with the [Master of Nightmares] once more, certainty occupying my heart. Since both of our thoughts were aligned, there was no turning back now. "You have a deal then," I said and extended my hand for a handshake.
He unsmilingly clasped my hand in his wide, gloved palm and shook it. "You can call me Graham Wyknight," he spoke formally, his gaze wandering to the uneasy boy behind me. Then his eyes roamed back to my grey ones, narrowing slightly.
"I'm Nova. Nova Young. And he is Nyx Young," I told him, struggling to smile. I had never once struggled to smile before a handsome man. I was a sucker for good looks, no matter the gender. Nonetheless, to this incorrigible, blue-eyed being, I was uncomfortable and anxious. I kept on doubting my decision to accept his deal. Everything about him ruffled my feathers... But, anyways, friend or foe...he would reveal himself sooner or later.
I sighed softly.
There was no friendliness or delight perceptible on his ravishing features as he said, "It's nice to meet you, Nova."
And another gear quietly shifted.