The scent of burning oil and damp earth clung to the air and the moon hung low in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the narrow streets as Dastan led Liria toward the old maester's dwelling, tucked away in the quietest part of the settlement. The cobbled streets, slick with the remnants of rain, gleamed under the glow of scattered torches. The journey had been long and grueling, and the venom from the spider bite still lingered in her system, making her sluggish. He had not wasted a second in finding her aid, despite his usual cold demeanor. There was an unspoken urgency in the way he carried her, his arms firm but careful as if she were something fragile.
He kept her close, his hand firm around her wrist as they approached. The wooden structure stood at the end of the street, its thatched roof bowed with age, its walls lined with drying herbs and bundles of twigs.
The health master examined Liria's wound with a scrutinizing gaze before applying an ointment with practiced ease. "You're lucky you brought her here quickly," the old man muttered as he wrapped a fresh bandage around her wrist. "A few more hours, and the fever would have taken a stronger hold."
Dastan exhaled, only now realizing how tense his body had been. He met Liria's gaze, and for a brief moment, something unspoken passed between them. Relief. Gratitude. Perhaps something more.
As they stepped out into the dimly lit alleyway, the cool air doing little to settle his unease, Dastan's instincts prickled. A presence lurked nearby, a familiar one. He placed a protective arm in front of Liria, signaling for her to stay back.
Out of the shadows emerged a figure clad in dark cloak, the glint of a curved blade catching the moonlight. His smirk was sharp, his stance lazy yet calculated.
"Dastan," the man drawled, tilting his head. "Didn't expect to find you playing caretaker. And here I thought you were the ruthless one."
Dastan's jaw tightened. "Rennan," he greeted curtly.
Rennan's gaze slid toward Liria, intrigue flickering in his eyes. "So this is the girl causing all the fuss. A pretty thing, isn't she?" He took a step forward, and Dastan subtly shifted to shield Liria.
"State your business," Dastan demanded, his voice edged with warning.
Rennan chuckled, twirling his blade between his fingers. "I think you already know. There's a hefty reward for this one. And since we're both professionals, why don't we deliver her together? Split the reward. No need for unnecessary bloodshed."
Dastan scoffed. "You know better than to insult me with such an offer. I don't share my bounties."
Rennan's grin twisted into something darker. "Funny. That's exactly what you said last year when you stole my mark." His expression hardened. "I never forget a debt."
Dastan's lips curled into a smirk. "Then you should also remember the rule of the hunt—bounties belong to whoever claims them first."
The tension snapped like a drawn bowstring. Rennan lunged, his blade slicing through the air with deadly precision. Dastan met him head-on, parrying the attack with a swift flick of his sword. The alleyway echoed with the harsh clash of steel against steel.
Liria stumbled back, pressing herself against the wall as the two assassins fought with a lethal grace, their movements sharp and practiced. Dastan had always been fast, but Rennan was equally skilled, matching him blow for blow. Sparks flew as their weapons clashed, the force of their strikes sending echoes into the night.
Rennan feinted left before striking low, his blade slicing through the fabric of Dastan's sleeve and grazing his arm. Dastan gritted his teeth, ignoring the sting of fresh blood trickling down his skin. He countered with a brutal kick, knocking Rennan off balance just long enough to drive his sword forward.
The tip of Dastan's blade embedded into Rennan's right shoulder, forcing a sharp cry from his lips. The assassin stumbled back, clutching the wound with a pained glare.
For a moment, silence hung heavy between them, both men breathing hard, locked in a silent battle of wills.
Then, against all expectations, Dastan sheathed his sword.
"Come on," he muttered, gripping Rennan's uninjured arm and hauling him up.
Rennan spat blood onto the ground, his gaze filled with both anger and reluctant respect. "Still following that ridiculous honor code, huh?"
Dastan ignored him, turning toward Liria, who had remained frozen, her eyes wide with barely concealed terror and something else—concern.
"You alright?" His voice was softer now, different from the deadly cold tone he had used with Rennan.
Liria swallowed hard and nodded, though her hands trembled. She had never seen Dastan fight like that before. The way he had shielded her, the raw determination in his eyes, as if he would rather die than let anything happen to her.
A lump formed in her throat. Why did it feel like her heart was betraying her?
Dastan guided Rennan toward the very same clinic they had just left. "You're lucky," he muttered as they stepped inside.
The health maester sighed heavily upon seeing them return, his eyes narrowing at the fresh wounds. "I swear, you Alassins are worse than wild dogs." But he got to work without another word.
Liria watched as Dastan stood by, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He had every reason to leave Rennan to die, yet he didn't. Something about that unsettled her.
"Why did you help him?" she asked quietly.
Dastan's gaze flickered to hers, steady and unwavering. "Because we don't abandon our own," he said firmly. Helping Rennan to lie down on a wooden table, he added, "Even enemies deserve a chance to stand again."
Liria frowned. "He tried to kill you."
"And I would've done the same," Dastan admitted. "But we are not beasts. Honor still binds us, even in bloodshed."
She studied him in silence, seeing not just an assassin, but a man shaped by a code deeper than survival.
She wasn't sure whether it was honor or guilt that drove him, but in that moment, she realized something else.
Dastan wasn't just her captor.
He was something more. Something dangerous.
And she wasn't sure if she wanted to escape him anymore.