The being observed Kyan, his eyes fixed on the drop of blood floating before him. The aroma was irresistible, something he hadn't sensed in centuries. Part of him wanted to succumb to the impulse, but he knew he couldn't. The blood, intoxicating as it was, lacked the flavor he had anticipated. There was no mana, the vital energy needed for him to feed and wield his powers.
With an almost imperceptible motion, he brought the drop of blood closer to his lips, tasting the liquid with the precision of a predator. The initial sensation was exquisite but quickly faded. Something is missing... he thought, with a subtle frustration. There was no power, only the raw essence of pure human blood, unrefined and devoid of magic.
"You're like the highest quality meat, but... raw, flavorless," he mused, the frustration slowly dissolving, replaced by a more intriguing thought. Still… you have something.
He scrutinized Kyan, analyzing every detail. There's something about you, human. Something that can be... refined. A newfound determination settled in his mind. He wouldn't discard Kyan—not now. Not with the potential he felt stirring within him.
The being stepped closer, extending a hand without touching him, sensing the weight of his presence. You'll make a fine feast, but not now. Not in your current state, he thought, as if trying to convey his decision. You need time. Like meat that must be aged, seasoned... with patience.
With a flick of his hand, Kyan was freed from the temporary control, though an invisible pressure lingered over him. The being studied him for a few more moments, like a master assessing meat before cooking it. You have a rare flavor, human. And I'll savor every moment of your preparation.
"I won't kill you," he said aloud, now that Kyan could understand the language. "You have something of value. A flavor that needs to be refined. In time, you'll be… more interesting."
The woman, silent until then, watched the exchange with a mixture of curiosity and impatience. Arms crossed, her eyes followed every movement of the being. When he finally stepped away from Kyan, she spoke in a dry tone:
"You may not understand now," she said, her voice deep and direct. "But you're not the first human he's encountered. You are… different. And he always chooses the best, the most intriguing ones."
Kyan, still trying to process everything, furrowed his brow. "Who is he? What… what is he?"
She tilted her head slightly, her expression still stern. "You really don't know? He… is Lord Alucius. A rare being, a rare presence. There aren't many like him."
The name fell upon Kyan like a bomb. Lord Alucius? He didn't know what it meant, but he could feel the weight of the revelation. This "Lord Alucius" wasn't just any being—he was dealing with something far beyond his comprehension.
The man—Lord Alucius—watched the conversation from afar, his presence still imposing. He didn't seem to care about the woman's words, but at the mention of his name, his eyes gleamed for a moment, a reflection of something deep and ancient. Then, he turned his gaze to her, as if contemplating something.
"Lyara," he said, the name flowing from his lips with an almost natural ease. The sound of his voice carried a subtle power, almost like a command. "I'm leaving. You will look after him."
Lyara didn't respond immediately. She remained still, arms crossed, her expression firm, but a faint sigh escaped her lips. She knew what this meant. There was no argument, no alternative. When Alucius spoke, it was an order that couldn't be ignored.
"Yes, Lord Alucius," she said with a voice tinged with resignation. "I will look after him."
Lord Alucius made a slight gesture with his hand, and a supernatural breeze rose. Before Kyan could react or make a move, he disappeared like a shadow, leaving no trace behind.
Lyara, after Alucius's departure, approached Kyan. She regarded him with a cynical look, tinged with a bitter kind of understanding.
"He won't wait forever," Lyara said, her voice calm yet firm. "But for now, you still have time."
Kyan felt a mixture of frustration and confusion, trying to process everything that had just happened. He didn't know exactly what Alucius wanted, but it was clear that he was at the center of something far bigger than he could comprehend.
"So… what happens now?" Kyan asked, his voice laced with distrust but also curiosity.
Lyara looked at him, her lips curling into a faintly disdainful smile. "Now, you're coming with me. Not that I have a choice, but I'm not letting you out of my sight. Alucius ordered me to ensure you stay… here, alive. And I'll do that in the simplest way possible. Walk with me."
She didn't wait for an answer, knowing Kyan understood the consequences of refusal. She moved forward, her gait that of a hunter, with Kyan reluctantly following close behind, left with little choice.
The woman led him through winding paths, always keeping a cold, watchful eye on him, but showing little beyond indifferent contempt. Kyan noticed that she wasn't there out of her own will—her loyalty to Alucius was clear. Even if it displeased her, she would carry out his orders.
"You're lucky, human," Lyara said without looking back. "It's been a long time since someone like you appeared. Alucius doesn't bother playing with just anyone. But don't fool yourself—your time could run out at any moment."
Kyan, silent, said nothing, his mind racing with the weight of the situation. He was being treated as a… rare delicacy, something to be preserved, but at a cost. He knew he couldn't simply give in to this dynamic. If there was any chance to regain control, he would have to outsmart these beings.
And as Lyara guided him through the strange and unfamiliar landscape, Kyan felt that his true battle was just beginning. It wasn't just a fight for survival but a struggle for something far deeper: control over his own fate.