"Didn't expect you'd make it out alive," she retorted. "Name's Lira, by the way."
Zellrid grunted in acknowledgment. "Why help me?"
A steeliness overtook Lira's features. "I haven't forgotten what you did in Raya Lucasria. Do you recall the blond boy abandoned in the woods, with no one willing to search for him because he was just a peasant's son?"
Zellrid's step faltered, his singular red eye widening in recognition. The memory rushed back - a desperate mother, a missing child, and a wendigo's lair deep in the forest. He turned to face Lira, surprise evident on his face.
"You know about that?" he asked, his gruff voice tinged with curiosity.
Lira nodded, a mix of gratitude and old pain in her eyes. "You saved him when no one else would even try. You refused payment, saying it was 'the right thing to do.' I never forgot about it."
Zellrid's hand unconsciously touched his eyepatch, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I remember. Nasty business with that wendigo. The boy was a brave lad."
"He was," Lira said softly, her voice tinged with a complex mix of emotions that Zellrid couldn't quite decipher.
A moment of silence fell between them as Zellrid's mind raced, trying to piece together why this woman would remember such a specific incident from his past.
"How do you know about that?" he finally asked, his tone cautious but curious.
Lira's shoulders sagged slightly, her eyes growing distant. "He was my little brother," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Before he changed..."
Zellrid's eye widened in surprise, but before he could respond, Lira continued, her words tumbling out as if a dam had broken.
"After you saved him, something... twisted in him. He grew cruel, power-hungry. He killed our mother, enslaved our entire village." Her voice cracked with pain and rage. "And me? His own sister? He made me a prostitute, bound by a magical ribbon that prevents my freedom."
Zellrid listened in stunned silence.
Lira's eyes hardened, filled with disgust. "He's here now, in this very city. The right hand of the duke, bringing his soldiers to..." She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.
"To what?" Zellrid prompted gently, though he feared he already knew the answer.
"To use me," Lira spat out, her voice bitter. "While he watches and laughs. His own twisted form of entertainment."
Zellrid's singular eye blazed with fury, lightning crackling faintly around his clenched fists. The irony was not lost on him - the boy he had saved from a monster had become something far worse.
"I'm sorry," he said, his gravelly voice low and intense. "I had no idea..."
Lira shook her head, her eyes meeting his. "You couldn't have known. You did a good thing that day, Zellrid. What he became... that's not on you."
Zellrid shifted his gaze, suddenly serious. "I have a proposition for you," he said. "You could hire me as your nightstalker and we could make a contract. You only pay once I've completed the job. It's the only way I can offer my assistance, otherwise, I must remain neutral."
Lira's eyes widened, a flicker of hope sparking within them. She studied Zellrid's face, searching for any sign of deception or mockery. Finding none, she nodded slowly.
"A contract... yes, I suppose that would work," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I have no money to pay you."
Zellrid's expression remained impassive, his tone matter-of-fact. "I'll provide the payment. You'll return it once the job is done."
He reached into his coat, pulling out a small pouch that clinked with coins. He held it out to Lira, who took it with trembling hands.
"Now," Zellrid said, his voice low and devoid of emotion, "we seal it with blood."
Lira nodded, understanding the gravity of the moment. Zellrid unsheathed a small dagger from his belt. Without hesitation, he made a shallow cut across his palm, then offered the blade to Lira. She followed suit, wincing slightly as the sharp edge bit into her skin.
They clasped hands, their blood mingling. Zellrid spoke, his voice taking on an otherworldly resonance:
"I, Zellrid, accept this contract from Lira. I swear to free her from her brother's magical bondage and end his reign of terror. Payment to be returned upon completion."
A pulse of energy passed between them, far stronger than a normal handshake. Lira gasped, feeling the weight of the magical contract settle over them.
Zellrid released her hand, wiping his blade clean before resheathing it. His face remained stoic, betraying no emotion.
"Tell me everything about your brother, the magical ribbon, and his current position," he said, his tone businesslike.
Lira nodded, relaying all the information she had about her brother's rise to power, his role as the duke's right hand, and the nature of the magical ribbon binding her.
Zellrid listened intently, his expression unchanged save for the occasional twitch of his eye as he processed particularly crucial details.
When Lira finished, Zellrid gave a curt nod. "I'll begin my investigation immediately. Stay out of sight. I'll find you when it's done."
Without another word, he turned and strode away, his black coat billowing behind him. His mind was already racing, formulating plans to infiltrate the duke's house and gather more information on his target.
The bustling marketplace of Senura fell into an uneasy hush as Zellrid strode through. Conversations died mid-sentence, replaced by wary glances and hushed whispers. The Nightstalker's mismatched hair and singular red eye drew attention like a lodestone, his very presence a disturbance in the everyday rhythm of the city.
A priest stumbled into Zellrid's path, righteous fervor burning in his eyes. "Begone, Larian demon! Your kind has no place in our city!"
Zellrid sidestepped the man without breaking stride, his face an impassive mask. "Noted," he grunted, voice gravelly and low.
At a nearby stall, a merchant's eyes widened in recognition. "A Nightstalker," he breathed, half in fear, half in awe. "I heard you lot hunt monsters for coins."
"Among other things," Zellrid replied curtly, pausing at the stall.
The merchant leaned in, lowering his voice. "Then maybe you've heard about the Duke's right hand? They say he's more of a monster than a man these days."
Zellrid's eye narrowed slightly. "Tell me more."