The uneven path wound through dense, skeletal woods, the bare branches above rattling in the breeze like brittle bones. Veiss walked ahead, his broad shoulders tense, every step purposeful. Behind him, Lyris sauntered with a confidence that grated on him, her steps light and deliberate as though she had nothing to fear.
Kaela trailed between them, her small figure lost in the folds of Veiss's cloak.
"You always this friendly?" Lyris asked, breaking the silence. Her voice carried a mocking edge.
Veiss didn't answer. He kept his eye on the path ahead, his hand resting on the hilt of Umbraclaw.
Lyris sighed dramatically. "Don't take this the wrong way, Butcher, but I can see why the cult doesn't like you. You're insufferable."
"Shut up," Veiss growled.
"Touchy," she said, smirking beneath her scarf. Her gaze flicked to Kaela. "What about you, little one? He always this charming?"
Kaela didn't respond, her wide eyes darting nervously between the two of them.
"She doesn't talk," Veiss said curtly.
"Smart girl," Lyris muttered.
The three of them walked in tense silence for a time, the only sound the crunch of dead leaves beneath their boots. Veiss felt the weight of Lyris's gaze on his back, but he refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.
"So, what's your plan when we get to Grayhold?" Lyris asked finally.
Veiss glanced over his shoulder, his expression hard. "Kill everything that moves."
Lyris raised an eyebrow. "Efficient. Reckless, but efficient."
"Do you have a problem with that?"
"Not at all," she said, her tone casual. "Just wondering if you've thought about what happens after. You know, assuming you survive."
Veiss stopped walking and turned to face her, his eye blazing with irritation. "I'm not here to debate strategy. If you're not useful, you can leave."
Lyris met his glare without flinching. "I am useful. You just haven't realized it yet."
Kaela took a step back, her small frame shrinking as the tension between them crackled like a live wire.
"Enough," Veiss said, his voice low and dangerous. He turned and resumed walking, leaving Lyris to follow or not.
They stopped for a brief rest near a dry creek bed, the pale light of the Black Sun filtering through the skeletal branches above. Veiss leaned against a boulder, his gaze scanning the treeline for threats. Lyris sat on a fallen log, idly sharpening one of her twin blades, while Kaela perched on a rock, her knees pulled to her chest.
"So," Lyris said, breaking the silence. "You've got the whole 'stoic vengeance' thing down. Care to share the backstory, or is the mystery part of your charm?"
Veiss didn't look at her. "No."
Lyris smirked. "Figures." She shifted her attention to Kaela. "What about you? What's your story, little one? How'd you end up with this ray of sunshine?"
Kaela hesitated, her gaze darting to Veiss for approval.
"Don't answer her," he said flatly.
Lyris rolled her eyes. "Relax, Butcher. I'm just making conversation." She leaned forward, her tone softening. "You don't have to talk if you don't want to. But if you ever need someone less terrifying to confide in…"
Veiss snorted. "You think she's safer with you?"
"I think I'm better company than you," Lyris shot back.
Kaela tilted her head, her expression unreadable. For the first time, she seemed to study Lyris, her gaze lingering on the assassin's twin blades and the intricate tattoos that wound around her wrists like serpents.
"You're one to talk about safety," Veiss said, his tone dripping with disdain. "You haven't explained why you're really here."
Lyris leaned back, her smirk fading. "I told you. The cult and I have unfinished business."
"That's not an answer," Veiss said, his voice sharp. "People like you don't get involved unless there's something in it for them."
For a moment, Lyris's expression darkened, her confident facade slipping.
"People like me," she repeated, her tone bitter. "And what about people like you, Butcher? How many villages have you leveled in your quest for vengeance? How many innocents have you cut down because they got in your way?"
Veiss's jaw tightened, but he didn't respond.
"Exactly," Lyris said, her voice cold. "We all have blood on our hands. The difference is, I'm honest about it."
Kaela watched the exchange silently, her wide eyes flicking between them.
After a moment, Veiss turned away, his grip on Umbraclaw tightening. "We leave in five minutes."
Lyris didn't argue. Instead, she returned to sharpening her blade, her gaze distant.
Kaela shifted closer to her, her movements hesitant. She pointed to one of the tattoos on Lyris's wrist, her expression curious.
"This?" Lyris asked, noticing the gesture. She held up her arm, the dark ink catching the faint light. "A reminder. Of mistakes I don't plan to make twice."
Kaela tilted her head, as if asking for more.
Lyris chuckled softly. "You're an odd one, aren't you?" She glanced at Veiss, who stood rigidly at the edge of the clearing. "Better odd than broken."
Kaela lowered her gaze, her expression thoughtful.
The brief moment of calm didn't last. A low growl echoed from the trees, sending a shiver through the air. Veiss immediately straightened, his hand going to his weapon.
"Time's up," he said, his voice taut. "We're moving."
Lyris stood, her blades flashing as she drew them. "Lead the way, Butcher."
Kaela hurried to Veiss's side, her small hands clutching his cloak.
As they plunged deeper into the woods, Veiss couldn't shake the feeling that the uneasy alliance with Lyris was a mistake.
But for now, survival came first.