Chapter Text
“Hmm. That was easy,” Lucanis muttered, standing over the now-dead mage. He wiped his dagger on his rags and sheathed it in its proper place. The man had been so focused on his research that he hadn’t noticed the assassin until the blade was already at his throat. The hardest part of the job had been slipping past the guards and finding his way to the workshop, where the mage spent most of his days.
“The Crows send their regards,” he said, turning on his heel to leave.
As he returned to the door he’d used to get in, he pressed a gloved palm against it. It barely budged; he could hear the soft click of the bar behind the door, keeping it from opening.
Locked, and no way to pick it open. He didn’t remember that bar being there when he came through.
Time to find a new way out.
“Of course,” he muttered to himself as he turned to survey the area around him. The Crow knew the job had been too easy. Fortunately, escape would hopefully be easier than the infiltration, provided no one had discovered the dead guards. If they had, surely they’d have warned the mage by now.
Near-silent footsteps echoed through the Magister’s workshop. Lucanis paid little attention to the various creatures lining the aisles, the dark ambiance broken only by tiny lights and candles, each one strategically placed to showcase an inhabitant in its runic-etched glass container. Some creatures didn’t move at all; others floated belly-up, clearly dead. A few watched him with what seemed like intelligence.
At the end of the aisle, he paused. One tank stood out—much larger and better lit than the others. Inside, at first glance, a woman lay on the flat, sandy bottom. But as he looked closer, instead of legs, a long tail coiled and stretched to the far end of her enclosure. She didn’t appear to notice him—or didn’t care—as she braided her waist-length brown hair, fingers quick and practiced as she wove and unwove the strands. Twin ridged horns curved up and away from her head in a gentle ‘S’ shape. From what he could see, freckles dusted her nose and cheeks, trailing in speckles along her neck to her shoulders, partially obscured by the thick curtain of hair that swayed with each movement of her arms.
Lucanis lingered, silent, then let his gaze drift across the rest of the enclosure. A cluttered table beside the tank caught his attention—diagrams, journal entries, and experiment notes scattered in what could only be described as orderly chaos. He picked up one of the journals and opened it.
27th of Haring, 9:42 Dragon
Experiment 07394, or ‘Dragon Siren,’ is my finest and first successful creation of her breed. A pity the other spawn from the grafting process failed to survive, but I finally have within my grasp what I’ve spent so many years working toward. So far, she is capable of limited communication; she understands basic speech and can follow simple commands. I have given her an enchanted quill to respond to me, though she remains verbally incomprehensible inside her enclosure. She has grown rapidly, and I fear she will soon outgrow her current container. I did not intend for this humanoid-esque form to develop so quickly, and I both dread and eagerly await to see how large her draconic form will become.
At the moment, I don’t have a tank able to contain her secondary form, as it’s much larger than initially theorized it would be after I last saw it. She has attempted to transform a few times within her cage, but a swift electric shock to the water and heavy weights to her lid have further deterred her from this behavior. Due to my new, harsher responses to rebellion, her escape attempts have significantly decreased. Unlike when she was newly born and still young, she now understands the consequences.
She appears to have regrown the membrane between her fingers that I removed last week for further study—a fascinating example of regeneration. I had not anticipated her ability to do so, but I will reexamine the components used in her conception for future experiments. Starting next week, I should attempt to find the limits of her regeneration with a finger and part of her tail fin. Could she regrow whole limbs, or is it limited to smaller structures like membranes and fins?
The creation of her control binding is nearly complete. If that blasted House of Dhariss would provide the reagents I need, I could finally begin testing the true limits of her power. With her success, I can implement the same methods to grow an army—one that can wield these powers in the sea and on land. No one will question the validity of my work or experiments any longer.
Lucanis felt his face twist into a scowl. Most of the other experiments he’d passed barely seemed sentient, but her? She was intelligent in a way that showed growth, not mere base instincts. She’d tried to free herself. Even with no knowledge of the outside world besides what she’s overheard, she wanted a taste of it.
He turned back toward the tank. His stomach dropped, and his pulse spiked.
Two golden eyes were locked on him.
When had she moved?
Her hands now rested against the glass, webbed, clawed fingers pressed to the barrier. As he looked, he spotted faint scratches that marred the surface—evidence of her escape attempts. Her head tilted as he met her gaze, and he saw no anger or murderous intent, only curiosity. He moved to the larger viewing pane, and she shifted to follow. Her tail twisted with mesmerizing grace, scales shimmering beneath the arcane lights. Deep hues of blue and green blended from under her hips down to a large spined fin that curled through the water.
Lucanis looked up, noting the return of her larger freckles trailing up her sides and converging at—he choked. His face flushed bright red.
“¡Mierda!” he hissed, snapping his gaze away from her bare chest, now revealed without the curtain of her hair. Of course, if she’d been born—or more accurately, created—here, she’d have no concept of modesty. The Magister certainly wouldn’t have bothered to dress his experiment.
Her golden gaze swept over him; she found his reaction amusing. Her eyes lingered on the various pieces of his covert leather outfit, particularly his daggers and rapier.
“Can you understand me?” he asked, wondering how deep her intelligence truly went based on the journal entry.
She dug into the sand beside her and retrieved what looked like an enchanted quill—the one Henric had mentioned. After pricking her finger, the runes along the shaft glowed faintly. He felt the back of his eyeballs itch, a reaction he’d developed in response to magic. She frowned, pressing her thumb to the wound, then used her free hand to write on the glass:
‘Yes’
Guilt gnawed at Lucanis; she was capable of communication. He had hoped that the writings had been boastful on the mage’s part. On his last major contract against Ambrose Ferox, he’d been filled with vengeance over the treatment of the slaves in the Magister’s home. He’d instructed Illario to bring the ones who weren’t corrupted to safety, and he freed those who’d been chained and force-fed red lyrium. Now he felt the same urge again. Though this creature couldn’t have her vengeance—her master was already dead, lying on the floor across the room. She deserved the ability to experience life, didn’t she?
His contract said nothing about rescuing or eliminating dangerous experiments that might one day wreak havoc on Thedas’ waterways.
‘Where’s Master Henric?’
Lucanis sighed.
“He’s dead. I killed him,” he said plainly, then added, “I had a contract.”
He braced for fury—for her to lash out, driven by some twisted loyalty. Instead, she simply tilted her head. It took her a good moment before she finally responded.
‘He hurt me. Thank you.’
Lucanis’s stomach churned even more. He was starting to feel nauseous.
‘Annaleth okay?’
The name gave him pause. Annaleth... maybe a slave? Someone who tended to the experiments? It wasn't the name of the one who had helped him get into the compound. “I don’t know. I didn’t hurt her,” he said softly. She looked away, lost in thought. Lucanis still didn’t know why he hadn’t left yet. If Illario were here, he’d be dragging him out by the collar, still lecturing him for going soft.
‘Help me?’
He knew he shouldn’t.
“Annaleth can help you,” he replied. Her expression dropped—and so did her quill. “If she’s still around, she’ll make sure you’re fed and looked after.” The woman had nothing else to say to him as she sank back to the bottom of her tank with an exhale of bubbles and turned away from him. His heart ached, memories of being a young boy locked alone in a dark room with no food surfaced unbidden.
Another thought struck him. What if another Magister took up Henric’s work? The mage’s death would get out eventually, and other Venatori would swarm his home looking for anything valuable. If they found the workshop and she was still alive, or if not, just the notes for her, she—and any more of her kind—could become a massive threat if the process were perfected and improved. What if she and others were trained to fight for the Venatori?
She would be tortured, just as Henric had done to her. She didn’t deserve that.
“How do I get you out?” he blurted out. She half looked over her shoulder, not convinced he had changed his mind so quickly. He reached up and touched the glass. “I want to help you.”
Her face changed to a tentative, hopeful joy. She waved him forward and gestured to the glass, located at the bottom of the left-hand side, which was partially obscured by the table next to this part of her enclosure.
Deeper scratches scored the surface there; he wondered how long it had taken her to make these. Lucanis had to move the desk to get a better angle on it. She was lucky the Magister hadn't spotted it.
Lucanis drew his dagger, hoping the enchantments only worked from the inside. He took a deep breath and pulled back, and with all his strength, slammed the pommel of his weapon into the weakened spot.
The glass spiderwebbed—then shattered.
He hadn’t thought this through.
The explosion of water knocked him backward into the desk he'd just moved, sending cages crashing to the floor as she slid free. Creatures slid from their containers, the live ones enjoying the wave and momentary freedom as the water settled and began to drain through various vents in the room quickly.
When the rush ended, Lucanis wiped his face and slid his dagger back into its sheath.
Mierda.
A gasp shattered the stunned silence.
He looked down. She was on her hands, tail thrashing wildly, loudly slapping against the stone floor, one hand clawing at her throat. Panicked golden eyes locked on his.
Lucanis scanned the room—more flopping bodies from experiments that had been knocked from their enclosures. There, on the left wall, his eyes caught a water pump connected to a basin. It took several tries to get a grip on her frantic form, but he managed to haul her up and drag her toward it. Realizing what he was doing, she thrashed, then broke free a few feet from the basin. She clawed her way in and plunged her head beneath the water.
Her body jerked violently—the water was stale, but usable. Who knew how long it had sat there, or what had been dropped into it? He worked the pump. It took a few cranks before anything came through. After flushing out the stagnant water in the pipes, cleaner water began to flow. Her tail stopped twitching. The tension left her limbs. She was safe for now, but they had a more pressing issue.
As he continued pumping, Lucanis looked around. Surely, if the Magister intended to move a creature of her size, possibly bigger, there had to be a secret exit. Mages doing illegal work always had their escape routes. Not far from the pump, he spotted what appeared to be a grate—not a secret, but it’d do. He lifted the pump’s lever to full height, letting gravity pull water into the basin as he made his way over.
Pitch black. But he could hear water moving beyond it.
Good. He wasn’t about to dump her into another tank.
A wet slap drew his attention. He turned to see her tail twitching as her hand flailed toward the pump. She was trying to submerge herself deeper into the basin, which was barely deep enough to fit her torso, while pumping more water in.
“I’m going to get you out. Just hold on,” Lucanis called, watching as she pressed herself as flat as she could. All he could see were the tips of her horns and the base of her tail where it met her hips, sticking up out of the water. The absurdity of the moment struck him. He shook his head.
He gripped the grate’s bars and heaved. It groaned in protest, grinding against the stone it was set into. A few more pulls, and he managed to haul it aside with a sharp jerk. It clanged loudly on the ground, bouncing for a few moments before it stilled.
Next time, he was having his negotiator ask for extra.
Lucanis swiftly returned to her side and looked down at her in the basin. She shifted uncomfortably, trying to meet his gaze despite the awkward angle. He raised a brow and held out his hands, then gestured for her to come. She tilted her head, not understanding what he wanted. Lucanis sighed and crouched to scoop her up. Her body stiffened as his hands grabbed under her armpits, but she allowed the touch—for now.
“Deep breath. I don’t need you to pass out on me,” he instructed.
The second she had her breath, he lifted her. With a grunt, the assassin half-carried, half-dragged her toward the grate. Her ears twitched at the sound of flowing water ahead. Once again, she wriggled free and clawed her way forward, tail thrashing as she vanished into the dark. Seconds later, he heard a loud splash followed by smaller ones.
Lucanis followed and blinked. A soft glow lit the path below. Peering over the edge, he spotted her golden eyes staring up, her luminous tail casting a soft glow in the dark.
The assassin turned away from the grate and headed back toward the books. As he moved, he swore he heard an echoed, raspy “thank you” come from behind him.
A smile tugged at his lips as he destroyed the evidence of her existence and found his way out, eager to return home to Treviso and tell his cousin a new tale over a nice cup of coffee at Café Pietra.
Notes:
I hope you enjoyed! Find my other stuff at: https://kylescreativecorner.carrd.co
Chapter 2: Beneath the Sea
Summary:
Dead men tell no tales, but Lucanis isn't dead yet, and he'll have quite the tale to tell after this.
Chapter Text
“Cousin, you’ve returned. How was your trip?” Illario asked as he met Lucanis just outside Café Pietra. Lucanis, who had barely slept on the ship back to Treviso, grunted and gestured for his cousin to follow him inside. The café wasn’t busy around this time of hour, as it was close to its closing hours for the night.
Should Lucanis be drinking coffee at this time of day? No. Did he care? Also no.
Finally, for the first time in hours, a slight smile curled on the assassin's lips as he let out a soft, near-inaudible sigh as he set the cup down with a soft clink against the table.
“Tell me, what did you miss more? Me or the coffee?” Illario asked, though he full well knew the answer. “The coffee,” both said at the same time—Illario with a wry smirk, and Lucanis with a soft chuckle. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, Illario?” Lucanis asked as he raised his cup to his lips. “The best kind, of course,” Illario said as he leaned back into his chair. His feet came up and rested on the table.
“Has Caterina found out yet?” the younger inquired, and Illario smirked. “Not if I can help it.”
Lucanis shook his head and swirled his coffee. “She’ll find out. She always does.”
Illario waved a hand dismissively before it rejoined the other behind his head—the picture of careless relaxation. “I’ve gotten this far, Lucanis. Clearly, she likes me more than she lets on, or she would’ve gotten rid of me by now.” Lucanis’ eyes narrowed. He doubted that was the reason. Himself, Illario, and Caterina were all that were left of House Dellamorte. Illario had his uses; his ability to charm targets was second to none, even if it left Lucanis alone on jobs more than once.
A cacophonous bang jerked the Crow awake, as the door rattled so hard while it rebounded off the wall that it sounded as if it’d come off the hinges. Two armed guards came in and flanked him, each grabbing an arm and unlocking him from the chain to the wall. The now familiar scent of salt and brine filled his lungs as they dragged his weakened body out the door.
Lucanis knew not how long he’d been down here in the Ossuary. Weeks? Months? Even if he wasn’t in a cell, he had no concept of time; the sun didn’t shine this far down in the depths of the ocean.
“Calivan,” the assassin growled, his voice hoarse from lack of use. He bit back the cough that filled his lungs from the irritation the single word caused.
“Crow,” the leader of the prison, Lucanis’ target, smirked back. “Lay him there. Begin the letting process while I finish the rest of what Zara sent us for him,” he instructed as he turned his back on them.
Vainly, Lucanis struggled against the two guards who forcibly pinned him to the table and locked him to it. One came around to get his leg—despite his weakened state, he was able to land a swift, satisfying kick to their gut. They grunted and roughly gripped his ankle while the other, still next to his head, gave him a sharp blow to the Crow’s temple.
Stars burst in the front of Lucanis’ eyes; he vaguely heard Calivan yelling at the guards to keep him conscious as he brought the container that would catch Lucanis’ blood. Another growl ripped from his throat as pain lanced up his arm—another of many cuts that would join the numerous scars that already lined them. He could feel it, hot and wet, sliding down his arm over his limp fingers.
They had given up the pretense of asking for Crow secrets long ago.
When things started to get blurry and his body weakened to the point of unconsciousness, they staunched the blood flow roughly with a scrap of cloth. With how dehydrated he was, Lucanis—if he could form more coherent thoughts—doubted they got much.
“Good, bring it here,” Calivan ordered. Moments later, the assassin could feel the telltale itch in the back of his eyeballs, indicating the Venatori mage was performing some sort of magic. He let his body relax; there was no point in fighting chains he could not break. He knew his body needed to recover as much energy as it could if he were to have a chance to get out of here. He knew it was possible. He just needed the right circumstances.
A Crow never abandons a contract.
That phrase had shaped much of his life, and it now determined his will to survive—to kill Calivan, his target, and any other Venatori he could get his hands on.
A furious, inhumane screech filled the air, as many different voices clamored around it. Lucanis could barely see his head; all he caught were flashes of purple, followed by magic flashing around Calivan’s body.
“Yes! Yes! Come!” the Jailor exclaimed excitedly.
Sudden motion around his head made the assassin tense and struggle as a set of hands grabbed him, and a vial of some ethereal-looking substance was brought to his lips. He clamped them shut, but a hand pinched his nose, and a guard punched him in the stomach.
Lucanis’ lips parted as the pained grunt passed through them, and the vial was shoved into his mouth, the contents tipped into the back of his throat.
It was warm. Tasted of iron—blood. They’d fed him his own blood—and something unnatural that burned his mouth. His body thrashed weakly, chains rattled against stone and bit into his skin as he fought to spit it out. Calivan’s hand pressed firmly to his mouth, keeping it shut.
“Make life easier for yourself, Crow. You’re not leaving until you do this.”
The teasing tone grated on the assassin’s nerves. He needed to breathe; his lungs screamed for the oxygen they had been deprived of. Dark spots danced in his vision.
He swallowed.
He didn’t understand the language Calivan began chanting in, but the fingers had been removed from his nose, allowing him to breathe—though his lungs still screamed for larger quantities of air.
The burning sensation that he’d felt in his mouth spread down his throat and sat heavy in his gut.
Things started to go hazy despite his efforts to remain awake.
Darkness overtook him.
The pain hadn’t lessened much by the time Lucanis awoke back in his cell. Though he had been re-chained to the wall, his body had curled up from the agony it was in, unconsciously in his sleep. After that, his life continued as normal as it had been down here, but for whatever reason, as time went on, Calivan seemed to get more upset with him than usual.
He glared vehemently at his jailer as he was once again strapped to the table the Venatori had jokingly labeled as his. Illario had said he had a poor sense of humor, but theirs was worse in Lucanis’ opinion.
“It has been weeks, Calivan. Are you sure you did the ritual correctly?”
Lucanis felt his body bristle with tension.
Zara Renata.
“Yes, Lady Renata, I performed the ritual you modified to your exact specifications. It worked well on the other test subjects—minus this one,” Calivan replied as the two mages looked down at him as if he were nothing more than an insect.
“Hmm. See to it that his limits are pressed even more. If not, I’ll have to try the other Dellamorte boy,” she said as she turned on her heel and walked away. The fire in Lucanis’ gut was dampened by fear.
Illario.
An inhuman snarl left his lips, and in a burst of strength he didn’t know he had, Lucanis ripped the chain straight from the table. His vision flared purple briefly, and a voice inside his head snarled.
‘Yes! Good! KILL THEM!’
The chain still connected to his wrist wrapped around a startled Venatori guard’s throat, and Lucanis yanked hard. The guard’s head hit the stone table with a loud crack, blood covered the surface, and he slid off to the ground, unmoving. Commotion filled the area as Calivan ordered his men to restrain the assassin. His other arm pulled free, snapping a link of the chain against the table. Two more Venatori fell by his hands before a sensation—a sickening lull—filled his mind and ensnared his limbs away from his control. His arms dropped to his sides, and his feet spun him to face the front of the room, where Calivan stood with a sadistic smirk, fingers coated in the blood from Lucanis’ jar, another Venatori held open next to him.
“Your body is not your own anymore, Crow. I’m not just talking about me, either. I’m glad to see it’s finally made an appearance. I was afraid you’d fucked up my experiment somehow and I’d have to start again. Escort him back to his room.”
Warily, despite the hold the jailer had on him, two other Venatori approached and apprehended him. Another growl was pulled from his throat as that voice inside his head flared again.
‘NO! THEY DIE! THEY ALL DIE!’
Lucanis’ eyes itched again, and a flare of purple came from behind him. Blood roared in his ears, and the last thing the assassin saw was the gesture Calivan made at him before everything went dark.
The following week—what he assumed was a week—was hell.
The demon they’d put inside him used what little energy he had to lash at guards whilst he slept.
Lucanis slept little as it was, barely enough for his body to function.
“ENOUGH!” the assassin snarled as he was rudely awoken by the demon inside him, who was trying to break the extra chains they’d tied him to the wall with.
As they fought for control, Lucanis' leg kicked out and knocked over the little water they gave him to keep him alive. Furious, he growled, “I need that to survive!”
‘I. DO. NOT!’ the voice roared back.
“You are inside me!” he snapped in return, and from his left materialized a cruel mirror of himself. His body clad in his armor, with weapons still equipped.
The first thing he noticed was that his hair was longer, and a ragged beard covered his face. Had it truly gotten that long? How long had he been here?
‘I am. ME!’ the apparition said as it gestured to itself. It paced the cell like a cornered animal, snarling and glaring at Lucanis. ‘This. Is. Wrong!’
Lucanis slumped against the wall, mind whirling a mile a minute. He was no mage; he had the magical talent of a brick. How was he tethered to a demon? It should not be possible.
Zara. Calivan. They did something to him. Was this what they wanted? He gritted his teeth. He would not give it to them. He would spite them all to the bitter end, or he would kill them and escape the Ossuary.
‘Yes! Good! SPITE!’ the demon exclaimed. A derisive snort left the assassin. Of course, he was imbued with a demon of Spite.
A splitting headache burst behind Lucanis' eyes as Spite began to rifle through his memories.
‘You know! You saw what happened! Show. ME!’ it ordered as it tore through them, looking for the day they were forced together.
“Get out of my head!” Lucanis hissed between clenched teeth, eyes squeezed tight.
Memories were forcibly dragged to the forefront of his mind: he and Illario as children, his first contract alone, Caterina. The week before, he’d been kidnapped in Café Pietra, having drinks with Illario. The siren in the tank. His capture aboard the ship bound for Minrathous.
With a momentous shove, he managed to push the demon back out and lock himself down as Caterina taught him, beat into him, and Illario.
Spite snarled at him and continued to prod at his defenses for a good while before getting bored and finally relenting. He sat next to his host, a murderous glare fixed upon him as Lucanis continued his meditation.
Screams weren’t unusual inside the Ossuary, be it from a test subject, a demon, or frustration from a guard. However, this? This was new.
Lucanis’s access outside his cell had dwindled as time went on; each time Calivan looked at him through the tiny barred window at the top, he’d scoff about him being a failure of an experiment. During this time, Spite had begrudgingly come to an understanding with the Crow.
Work together. Get free of the prison—get freedom from each other.
“Get to the north side!” one of the guards yelled as a group ran past the two escorting Lucanis back to his room.
Calivan had done something to render Spite temporarily unconscious; Lucanis was taking the silence as a well-earned reprieve. However, it was also unfortunate. More guards raced past, prompting the one on Lucanis’ left to grab another and demand, “What’s going on?”
“Don’t know—trackers picked up something big outside. Calivan’s ordering everyone to reinforce the barrier runes on that part of the facility,” the man explained as he yanked his arm free and sprinted to catch up with the others.
The two Venatori glanced at each other, hastily dragging Lucanis to his room. As they latched him back to the wall, a thunderous roar echoed through the Ossuary, making one of them drop their keys in shock.
Lucanis silently watched as they fumbled, retrieved them, and swiftly exited, locking the door behind them.
The assassin looked up and tugged at the cuff.
The lock clicked open.
He smirked.
Now all he had to do was rouse the demon before his perfect circumstances slipped away.
Chapter 3: The Escape
Summary:
The time has come for the Demon of Vyrantium to make his escape—or join the fate of the Venatori, crushed beneath the ocean as the enchantments of the Ossuary begin to fail.
Notes:
Please don't be weird about a certain section, you'll know it when you see it, thanks. I had a lot of fun writing it! I hope you all enjoy it.
Chapter Text
Gilded eyes surveyed the land before her as the sea dragoness swam silently in the depths of the ocean. Clawed limbs lazily drifted along her body as her massive tail, thick with muscle and encased in tall spined fins, propelled her forward. She cared not for the giant sprawling reefs beneath her that bloomed in every color, nor the massive beasts that also called this place home; no, her intentions were that of a hunger rarely quenched.
She could sense it close: a place where the Fade was tainted with the screams of mortals and demons, where blood flowed as freely as the currents around her. She’d followed this sensation for weeks, leaving the stretch of territory where she’d been freed and called home. The dragoness planted her feet onto the rocky mound before her and pushed up, racing to the top. A break in the stone offered her a view of what lay beyond.
Her lips curled into a snarl.
Crumbled ruins—parts of them lit by magical lights, barriers held in place by runes to keep the ocean at bay.
Her skin prickled, and old scars ached.
Blood mages.
She roared. A thunderous sound echoed across the deep, scattering prey and larger predators alike. She saw the confusion and fear ripple through the facility’s occupants. Weapons drawn. Defensive postures. Panic.
With fury and vengeance in her heart, the dragoness began her hunt.
She would not stop until they all joined her in the ocean’s cold embrace.
The demon inside his head was making even less sense than usual.
‘She’s here,’ Spite purred as the assassin crept through the halls. The Venatori had become complacent in their ability to control him with blood and had relaxed their restraints. The Ossuary trembled as something struck the barrier above.
“What the fuck is that!?”
“Where did it go!?”
He heard the guards shouting, panicked.
Another roar echoed through the facility. It rumbled in Lucanis’s bones.
“Who’s here, demon?” Lucanis muttered as he slipped through the shadowed corridor, heading for the room where they’d last stored his gear.
‘Her. The dragon. You saved ,’ Spite said, slinking alongside him in incorporeal glee.
Lucanis frowned. Dragon? Saved? He’d met no dragon—he loved wyverns, and dragons by association. He’d definitely remember if he’d saved one.
He found the first storage room and rifled through the keys he’d taken from a dead guard. The third one clicked. He stepped inside and sighed at the mountain of boxes and junk. Of course. They’d buried his things in clutter.
With a groan, he began to dig.
She was no fool. The dragoness knew magic like this would react—barriers meant to keep curious creatures away. So, she climbed the highest rocks surrounding the facility and began shoving boulders loose or clawing her own free. Massive stones crashed down onto the barrier, sparks and runes flickering as the shield buckled.
She heard the shouting, panicked red-robed figures scurrying.
With a final, hearty shove, she toppled the largest rock yet, then darted to another section, looking for weaknesses.
There. A thinner point.
She dove to a broken entryway and yanked a spear from a half-destroyed statue, biting down until it snapped free. Then, planting her claws in the sand, she jammed the weapon into the magical barrier.
It fought back, zapping her snout with vicious force.
The Venatori realized too late.
Screams filled the corridor as a hole was ripped through the barrier. The dragoness roared and launched forward, scattering the Venatori, driven to the place where blood magic was most potent in this area—the holding runes.
“KILL IT! KILL THE BEAST!” Calivan roared as he ordered every demon and Venatori to attack her.
What beast? Lucanis wondered as he tightened his belt.
It was much looser than he remembered. All of his armor was. Just another reminder of how long he had been stuck down here, how much he had lost. He hoped to find a mage—any mage—and coerce them into getting him out before whatever that was returned the Ossuary to its resting place.
His knives were still missing, but at least he was armed and armored. Pity—they even found the hidden one in his cape.
He strapped the stolen Venatori sword to his waist and peeked into the corridor.
Utter chaos.
Water poured through a growing tear in the barrier holding the sea back. He’d known the enchantments were weak—this place had shrunk year by year—but the pressure out there was relentless. It was only a matter of time.
A glimpse above caught his attention. Calivan—on a catwalk, yelling orders.
Lucanis smirked. He would have his revenge.
His back prickled as two large, ethereal black-and-purple wings erupted behind him.
‘Time to die!’ Spite’s voice echoed excitedly in his mind.
Lucanis let out a soft huff. Painfully on the nose, wasn’t he? He launched into the air, and the demon’s wings flapped hard; he passed the first catwalk without issue, then–
SLAM
The tail of the creature slammed into a nearby platform, sending debris flying in all directions. Lucanis narrowly avoided a large chunk as he landed, crouched behind fallen rubble, and surveyed his surroundings.
Mierda.
Calivan was gone.
‘No! We had a deal!’ Spite howled in frustration.
Lucanis’s gaze snapped to the beast as the last Venatori screamed. His body hit the floor, shredded by teeth. The dragoness raised her head, blood dripping from her maw as she sniffed the air, head twisting this way and that. Lucanis grunted as Spite suddenly made him stand, caught off guard, trying to remain hidden.
‘DRAGON! HER! SAVED HER!’ The demon cheered as his wings flared behind the Crow. Bright, magical, painfully obvious.
The beast's gaze snapped right toward him, and a deep rumble filled his ears.
Golden eyes narrowed as the dragoness carefully made her way over to the assassin before her. Tainted. But not as these mages were. Something about him, the way he stood, his outfit, itched at the back of her mind. A frustrated sound came from her chest. His fingers twitched toward the weapon at his side.
“Mierda, Spite, now it’s going to kill us!” He hissed under his breath.
Her eyes widened. She knew that voice, one of only two that were friendly. The frustrated rumble in her chest turned to a soothing purr as her pupils dilated, softening her intimidating visage. He didn’t know her or trust her. The dragoness racked her brain to figure out how to make him remember. She could not transform here, but she could still write. A careful claw reached out into the sand and carved one word into the ground.
‘Henric’
Her head tilted at the slight hitch in the assassin's breath. She turned to lock eyes with him once more; the recognition turned to disbelief on his face.
“You’re the siren.”
The slight nod and toothy grin she gave in response was clearly terrifying based on the briefest expression on his face. Despite this, she saw the human relax slightly, his hand lowered from the sword on his hip.
“Are you hunting the Venatori as well?” He asked, and she tilted her head, his brows furrowed again in consideration. “Blood mages?” She perked up and gave a sharp nod, her tail swaying slightly behind her.
Lucanis smirked.
“Think you can help me kill Calivan? He runs this place. What he did to me, it’s complicated, but I have a job to do, and now it’s personal.” Lucanis said, and the dragoness snarled and planted her feet against the catwalk, preparing to climb. Apparently, negotiation was not necessary.
‘Ride dragon!’ Spite demanded.
Lucanis rolled his eyes. “You have wings. I don’t need to.”
He watched as she climbed, careful to ensure the structure held under her weight. He glanced down and noticed the water had risen, washing away the name she'd carved.
Spite’s wings flared again, launching Lucanis upward as he resumed the hunt for his jailer.
As he flew, a thought struck him. With all the chaos going on, Calivan might have visited where they stored his blood. If they considered him a failed experiment, then he’d have no qualms ordering the Crow to throw himself at the beast.
“Siren!” he called out.
She turned mid-climb, her horns clipping a light fixture. It fell and smashed against the floor.
“They have my blood!”
She snarled, talons scraping stone.
“I have to find it and destroy it. I’ll find you afterward!”
She rumbled—affirmation, hopefully—then disappeared into another corridor.
Lucanis moved fast, feet echoing along the floor. Using Spite’s wings carried him quickly, but not endlessly, and he didn’t want to exhaust them too early. The halls were mostly empty now. The Venatori would all be trying to section off parts of the Ossuary from the water, and the dragon hellbent on seeing them dead.
As he entered the room before him, he felt his gaze pulled towards the table as he crossed the threshold. Memories filled his mind: being chained to it for hours. Being bled for their experiments, forcibly merged with Spite, and Zara threatening Illario.
He turned his gaze away and focused on shattering the blood crystals around that kept him and the room he needed to get into. Through the thick red magical haze blocking the doorway, he could see it, the vial.
Good. Calivan hasn’t been here yet.
After the last crystal shattered, Lucanis swiftly made his way into the room. The large vial sat on a low table next to others, bound by golden chains. Calling it a vial was an understatement; he honestly had no idea how much blood they had taken from him. His face twisted into a snarl as he swung the stolen blade and smashed it, causing the contents to splatter everywhere.
Hmm, probably should have thought that through.
He found a mostly clean rag and wiped at his face when he noticed a familiar feathered handle sticking out from a nearby box.
Could it be?
He made his way over, and careful fingers picked up the cloth.
His rialto rapier and his daggers!
He tested the blade, still sharp. With a satisfied grunt, he tossed the Venatori blade aside and returned his weapons to their various holsters.
Another roar shook the Ossuary.
‘Different roar?’ Spite inquired.
Lucanis looked toward the entry. Had the siren gotten in over her head? She was massive and powerful, but mages were tricky, and all of the Venatori fought dirty. Lucanis, geared and ready, he raced to her side.
If something happened to her, the chances of something like this happening again and his ability to escape were slim to none.
The dragoness hated this. She preferred her usual hunting tactics of sinking the blood mage's ship and picking them off in the water. She was a deep-sea predator, a slinking shadow with precision and brute strength—but not here, not in this narrow cage. No space to swim, no room to dodge. Mages struck her from all sides. She had underestimated the size of the facility.
She snarled as one disappeared in a cloud of smoke and reappeared within a few feet of her. He lunged for her back leg, paired with some sword-swinging lackey. They thought her slow in the tight quarters—but she wasn’t.
Faster than they anticipated, her foot came up and caught them both in the chest, sending them flying back into the wall with a sickening crack.
An ear-shattering roar left her chest, forcing them to clamp their hands over their ears to deafen the sound. If she couldn’t fight comfortably here, she’d make the space bigger so she could. Her claws ripped into the stone ceiling, sending debris crashing down. Some of the Venatori dodged. Most couldn’t.
“Fine! I’ll do it myself!”
The dragoness’ head snapped up. All these mages had a certain taint about them, but this one, his was the worst. This must be who her rescuer was looking for —the one who had hurt him.
A growl rose in her chest as she launched herself up a pillar, claws tearing fresh gouges into the stone.
The man raced further into the Ossuary, and with another angry roar, she gave chase. The man led her into a massive open platform, nothing but the sea above them. This must have been the main entry before the sea swallowed it. He stood at the far end of the area, between the semi-circle stairs that led to a small alcove behind him.
“You’re going to regret the damage you caused, you overgrown horned lizard.” He growled and, in a flash of light, three copies appeared. Her eyes flicked between the mages, and she growled as they all moved the same. The dragoness lunged, and two vanished in a dodge. The one caught in her jaws burst into mist, laughing as it disappeared.
An agonized roar left her as something sharp raked up her side. A massive red lyrium spike erupted from the ground, slashing deep into her hide. More clustered beneath her, threatening to pierce her underbelly. Pressure and burning agony twisted through her.
‘KILL HIM!’ Spite roared after the doors to Lucanis’ elevator opened.
Red lyrium crystals lay scattered on the floor along with pools of blood. The dragoness was injured; he could see multiple wounds across her flanks, and she was favoring her left hind leg. Her maw still curled into an intimidating snarl as Lucanis silently drew his weapons and crept towards Calivan. Her eyes snapped to him, and just as Calivan began to turn, she lunged. He teleported away, and she roared in frustration, whirling around to find him, her feet slipped on the sandy surface.
With a flash of Spite’s wings, Lucanis leapt high as the dragoness lunged, the mage raised a barrier to block her bite, and the assassin felt Spite’s wings flare behind him. He flapped higher once, and they curled around his body, shooting feather-like projectiles at the jailer.
“WHAT!?” Calivan screamed as the shield shattered.
Her jaws snapped shut just shy of his face, and he teleported again—straight into Lucanis’s path.
Steel sank deep into Calivan’s shoulder. The mage screamed as Lucanis shoved him to the ground, blades drawn and ready to finish it—
“Demon! Your master calls!”
The floor ripped open.
An enormous, lightning-crackling arm emerged from the portal, dragging a hulking pride demon into the arena. A blade of lightning hissed from its hand.
Its eyes locked onto Lucanis.
Before he could react, the dragoness charged. She clamped her jaws around its forearm, halting its movement.
‘YES! RIP AND TEAR!’ Spite howled with excitement inside Lucanis’s head.
The two large beasts slashed and snapped at each other, talons, teeth, and magical blades and bolts kept Lucanis fast on his feet. With a flash of wings, Lucanis launched himself atop the demon, his blades swiftly finding cracks in the armor. The demon snarled and went to grab the assassin. With a grunt, Lucanis leaped off the pride demon’s back, and the dragoness’ teeth clamped down on the demon’s head. After a sickening crunch, it went slack and began to disperse back into the fade.
As the demon disappeared, Calivan flashed back into sight in the middle of the makeshift arena.
“No! I will not fall! I will not be treated as the others!” he bellowed, wild and desperate.
Lucanis flicked the blood off his rapier. “You deserve worse than the fate you’re imagining.” The assassin said as he approached, injured, but resolved to finish the fight.
“A Crow never abandons a contract; I will have your head.”
The dragoness charged ahead, teeth bared, as she crossed the gap in two large bounds, her claw ready to smash the mage through the floor. Calivan summoned his illusions again—but this time, her tail whipped out mid-stride and shattered two. The third went straight into her jaws.
Panting, the dragoness turned and saw Calivan just standing there, a flare of purple appeared behind the mage.
“The Crows send their regards.” Came Lucanis’ voice as Lucanis pulled his blades free from his target's chest. Reaching down, he picked up a trinket for proof of his work and stuffed it into a pouch.
Now, how was he–
The entire facility shook, and they could hear screams from below where they stood.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
Lucanis blinked and looked up; the wards were flickering.
“Mierda"- not like this! ” The assassin panicked, and the dragoness looked up. The wards and enchantments were finally cracking under the weight of the sea. The dragoness stepped close. She was massive —easily three times his size. Her shadow fell across him as more water began to pour through. How she fit into half the halls was beyond him, but he had no time to admire her as more water started to pour in through the cracks. How was he supposed to find a mage in time? A scratching noise caught his attention, and he looked down.
‘Save you’
“Unless you can perform magic to get me out of here–”
She lay down and opened her mouth.
He could hear Spite’s chaotic cackling in the background.
“Ooooh no, I’m not getting in your mouth.” The assassin said as he stepped back a few paces, and she gave him a huff. The floor on which they stood started to fill with water.
With a groan, Lucanis climbed in. It reeked. Absolutely vile. She shut her mouth, grimacing. He tasted terrible.
Lucanis gagged and tried not to breathe. He couldn’t see. Couldn’t move. Just waited as the world tilted —
She launched through the Ossuary, found a crack in the barrier, and burst back into the open sea. The cold embrace soothed her aches and pains; a deep, contented purr rumbled in her throat as she floated there for a moment. Her powerful tail began to swish behind her as she propelled herself upwards toward the surface, mindful not to swallow her unwilling passenger accidentally.
Lucanis knew not how long he was inside her mouth, but he did his best to keep his breathing as minimal as possible to preserve oxygen and to keep his sanity. Eventually, the dragoness breached the surface and opened her mouth. Lucanis instantly grabbed her bottom teeth and hauled himself out into the water. The dragoness took the time to wash her mouth out as he floated next to her. He used the water to wipe his face and hair free of dragon spit.
Disgusting.
“Where are we?” He asked as clean as he could feel without a bath. “Not sure, far from my territory.” Came a raspy reply, and Lucanis grunted as he spun, “Could you–” He froze; her dragon form was gone, replaced with the one he had seen in the tank.
“It really is you,” he exhaled, and she smiled, fangs flashing. “But last time you couldn’t breathe out of water or talk,” Lucanis stated. He remembered her thrashing after he broke her tank. She tilted her head, wet bangs slid in her face, causing her to push them back between her horns. “I could, but Master Henric didn’t understand. So he made me write.” She explained, and he blinked. “That doesn’t explain the breathing.”
“Survival,” she said, “stuck, high tide forced into smaller pools. Scary, but I’m alive.” Lucanis nodded, guessing she was more adaptable than Henric had planned. “Can you bring me back to Treviso?” He asked, and she tilted her head. “Tre-vi-so? Where?”
Lucanis looked around; there was nothing but water for miles. He also doubted she knew how to read a map.
“Can you bring me to land? Where people are?” He said, and she beamed, “Yes!” Her form disappeared beneath the surface, and when Lucanis looked down, his heart leaped into his throat.
Two enormous golden eyes looked up at him from the depths as she moved to breach the surface again. He swam over and cautiously wedged himself between the tall fin atop her head and her left horn. “Your leg was injured earlier. Are you alright?” He asked as she began to swim forward. A rumbling purr was his response. Seemed her talking was limited to her other form.
Soon, the sight of a town was visible, and as it grew closer, the dragoness slowed down. He was about to ask why when he looked down. Right, she’d probably terrify the locals. They were a good couple of hundred feet from the shore when the floor disappeared out from under him.
With a grunt, the Crow landed back in the water right after he had finally mostly dried out in the sun. A strong hand grabbed his collar and hauled him upright above the surface. A smirk appeared on the siren’s face as she began to propel them through the water; she didn’t seem to struggle with the additional drag of his weight plus the weight of his armor and weapons as she drew within a good fifty feet and stopped again.
“Can't go farther.” She said, and Lucanis looked to her as he tread water. “Why not?” She frowned, “sudden land, get stuck.” She must be talking about a sandbar. “But your injuries, I should tend to them.” He said as she began to make her way back to the sea.
“I’ll heal. Stay safe.”
He blinked, and she was gone.
‘No more dragon? ’ Spite asked, and Lucanis noted that he’d been disturbingly quiet. ‘Smelt like–’
“Don’t,” he said firmly as his stomach twisted. He did not need to remember that at the moment. He watched for a few more minutes before turning and making his way to shore.
Time to find his way home.
Chapter 4: The Dragoness
Summary:
Out of all the plans Illario lets Lucanis drag him along on, this had to be one of the dumbest one's he's agreed to yet.
Notes:
IT EXISTS. I'm so sorry it took forever! (I make no promises for when the next chapter will be ready). Thank you to all of you who stuck around! Please enjoy!
Chapter Text
Disposing of bodies was something the Crows were far too familiar with. However, for Illario, hauling an unconscious blood mage through the streets for his cousin’s sudden half-baked plan was borderline insanity. The rocks were slick as they made their way to the more hidden dock at the edge of the quiet port. With a grunt, he adjusted his grip on the mage’s arms. "Lucanis, this is madness. I don't know what they did to you down in that Ossuary, but this?" Illario hissed as he and his cousin dragged and unceremoniously dropped the bound, unconscious blood mage into the dinghy. "I have to see her again, Illario. Make sure she's okay. It's the least I can do for her since she rescued me." Lucanis replied flatly as he hopped in, Illario following close behind. The younger pushed the boat away from the dock and began to row out into the sea. Out where the rumored 'scourge of the sea' sightings had been. The dockhands and others on the pier this late at night wisely turned a blind eye.
"You think blood mages are the way to summon her?" Illario asked dryly as Lucanis rowed, "You haven’t noticed the pattern?" came Lucanis’s oddly contemplative tone as the soft splashes of the oars hit the water and push the boat forward. "Enlighten me, cousin," the elder Dellamorte drawled with a raised brow as he crossed his arms and leaned back. "All those boats the scourge sank? They had blood mages. That's how she found me in the Ossuary. She's hunting them." The look on Illario's face showed he didn't buy it. He rolled his eyes and looked lazily around the vast expanse around them. Not many were out on the water at this time of night. "Cousin, did you not think that perhaps it was only mere circumstances she found you down there? Not everyone has the same taste for vengeance as you do."
Lucanis rolled his eyes. "She'll come." Illario sat up and braced his arms on his knees. "What if she does? Will she not eat this boat whole? What's to keep her from realizing you and I are here?" Lucanis had initially thought about that; he'll have to hope that once she sees him, she'll be smart enough not to actually eat him this time. Silence overtook the dinghy as Lucanis made his way out to where he’d mapped out the rough middle of where all the boat sinkings had been taking place.
“Now what?” Illario asked as Lucanis secured the oars and moved in front of the blood mage. The body rested against the bow of the little wooden boat, and he noted how they tensed ever so slightly as his weight shifted it from side to side as he approached. “I know you’re awake. Unless you’d like me to prove it the hard way?” the Crow said, noting how the mage tensed ever so slightly. “Playing unconscious won’t get you anywhere; you’re not making it out of here alive, pretending or not,” Illario added. The mage cracked a green eye open. Lucanis could feel an itch on the back of his eye, and the demon inside him reacted to the magic. Purple flared momentarily in his vision, and Lucanis quickly turned his head to hide it from his cousin. A blood-red aura appeared around the mage's hands as they prepared to cast a spell. Before they could get a spell off, Lucanis grabbed them and hauled them up, throwing them overboard.
The caster's legs flailed as they tried to tread water, wrists still bound, their magic gathered faster as they panicked.
‘She’s here,’ Spite purred inside his head.
Lucanis leaned over the side and froze.
An enormous golden eye looked up at him from beneath the waves, then focused on the splashing of the mage beside the dinghy. Lucanis could hardly see her whole face because of her large size and the dark depths beneath him; the moon did little to illuminate her form. The boat began to rock as she pushed toward the surface, and the rising tide moved the dinghy away as an enormous set of jaws breached the water. An audible snap filled the night air as she easily swallowed the flailing mage whole.
“¡Dios mío!” Illario yelped as he scrambled back into the boat as the scourge of the sea raised her head entirely out of the water. “She’s real. You weren’t kidding–“ trembling, Illario death-gripped the side of the boat while Lucanis steadied himself. He spun and watched as the dragoness turned to look down at them. He could see a flicker of confusion in those golden eyes.
Mierda, please remember him.
“You are hunting blood mages,” he said matter-of-factly. The dragoness inclined her head in thought before she let out a rumbling purr. A wicked, toothy grin split her maw as she gave a gentle nod. Relief flooded his veins. She did remember him and wasn’t going to eat him, hopefully. “Why are you hunting? Henric?” Lucanis asked, and her smile turned into a snarl. “Cousin, do NOT piss off the giant dragon that could eat us whole.” Illario hissed, trying to control how his knees were bouncing.
The things he did for his cousin…
“Can you transform?” Lucanis asked. “I’d like to talk to you.” The dragoness tilted her head as if in contemplation before silently sinking back beneath the surface. Both men leaned over the side to watch. Illario let out a soft whimper, not liking how quickly she disappeared from view into the darkness below. “She’s massive. There’s no way she should disappear that fast,” he wheezed, and Lucanis, even knowing she’s…on friendly terms with him, found it unnerving.
A loud splash and the boat rocking made Illario scream. Lucanis whipped around, hand on his dagger, when he saw a familiar face hanging on the back of their vessel. Her forearms lay along the edge, her chin resting on it. Brown hair was pushed back from her face between those beige horns, and her golden eyes flicked curiously between the two men.
‘Dragoness!’ Spite thought, and Lucanis shoved him down.
“Oh, hello,” Illario said upon seeing her. She tilted her head curiously and smiled, “Hello.” He blinked, clearly not expecting an actual response. “Lucanis—“
“Siren, you’re safe,” the younger interrupted, and she gave a flick of her tail behind her. “For now,” she replied dryly whilst looking them both over. “She can talk? How can she talk?” Illario asked incredulously as Lucanis sighed, “Her magister taught her how to talk.” “I listen!” she added helpfully, and both looked at her. “In ports, nice ones. I sit under docks and listen to people. Tevinter is…depressing.” The dragoness said with a slight frown, and both men snorted.
Understatement.
“Did you need me?” She asked as she tilted her head again, and despite himself, Lucanis did think the action was cute. Innocent in a way.
“After you saved me, you disappeared. I wanted to make sure you were alright.” Lucanis said as he sat down on one of the seats near her and she gave a small smile. “I'm safe. It was far from my territory. Glad I explored.” She said as she gave him a sheepish expression and picked at the boat with her nail. Illario raised a brow and opened his mouth when Lucanis just held a hand up.
“Don’t”
“Cousin-“
“No, Illario, drop it.”
“You’re no fun, Lucanis.”
The siren looked very confused at their banter, but didn’t bother saying anything.
“Are your wounds alright? I know Calivan got you good a few times.” Lucanis asked, and she frowned at the memory. “Should have done better. Better now. I heal quickly. Magister made sure of that,” she muttered the last bit dryly. A flash of purple caught his attention.
‘I want to talk to dragon!’ Spite snapped.
Lucanis could see him, the purple mockery of himself leaning precariously on the side of the boat next to the siren. “Lu-can-is?” She called as she lifted herself up-Illario’s gaze dropped down-and she reached toward him before pausing. She could sense something off about him; she’d also notice how his gaze kept flicking to empty air. The assassin gritted his teeth and attempted to shove Spite back within his mental cage. He doubted it’d work; the dragon fascinated the demon for weeks after they all escaped from the Ossuary.
“Tell me, does a lovely lady-er-dragoness like yourself have a name?” Illario prompted, interrupting the silence. Lucanis shook his head and pinched his nose. “Cousin, do you think the magister bothered to give her a name?” Illario shrugged, seemingly much more comfortable with the half-human version in front of him now. “Why not? Not like he was going to call her whatever her experiment title was, right?” Lucanis sighed, “Illario, you idiot, clearly you don’t realize how little magisters think of their experiments.” A ‘tsk’ left Illario’s lips as he waved the younger Crow off, “Lucanis, don’t be rude in front of our pleasant company.” A beat of silence passed between the two—
“Lu-canis calls me ‘siren’, he calls’ I answer to it,” came a tentative voice from the back of the dinghy. “Is that a name?” She inquired with another subtle head tilt. Lucanis frowned. He called her siren cause that was one of her titles on her experiment paper. “A siren is a…broad description for someone who looks like you. It is not necessarily a name. Creatures who live in the water, who are half human, half…fish? Aggressive ones are called Sirens as a whole.” He explained softly, and her gaze dropped to the floor of the boat.
“Oh,” she said softly and slid down so only her chin and fingertips rested on the edge.
“Siren–” Lucanis called, and her contemplative expression turned to a soft scowl. “No name,” she muttered before disappearing. Lucanis stood and stepped over the two seats leading to the back when a splash of water made him raise his arms to his face. Brown eyes barely caught the flick of a tail before she vanished into darkness. “Touchy for a dragon,” Illario muttered, and Lucanis shot him a glare over his shoulder. “Can we go back to our inn now? I’m exhausted.” He yawned, and the youngest let out a sigh before grabbing his oars and sitting back down. “She’ll be fine, what’s in the water that could hurt something like her?” As he rowed to the port, guilt twisted in the assassin’s gut. Was he no better than the magister calling her that? It’s not like he had time to think of names for an underwater dragon.
‘Stupid Lucanis! Hurt dragon! ’ Spite snarled inside his head, giving said assassin a headache.
“Mierda,” Lucanis muttered as he continued to port. There wasn’t anything in the water that might hurt her that scared him. Rumors had already begun circling Rivain and the Cantori Diamond from Crows coming back from contacts there about pirate lords eager to hunt this ‘scourge of the seas’. He’d only been back in the diamond and the Dellamorte Villa himself for a few weeks. Adjusting was not as easy as he’d hoped it would be. He’d barely recovered for a few days before he was telling Caterina he was ready for a contract. He did not know how to bring up the subject of Spite. Every time he left Treviso, away from the intense gaze of his grandmother, he did his best to research those who might know how to remove demons. Unfortunately, being the renowned Mage Killer, he wasn’t sent to Rivain often. Lucanis knew vaguely that the people there were on friendlier terms with demons…spirits? Whatever Spite was.
Lost in his head, Lucanis barely noticed how quickly they were returning to the pier.
‘ Would she like warmer water? Would she like books? She must hear interesting stories sitting in ports all day. ’ Lucanis mused when “—Lucanis!” Illario hissed at him.
Snapped out of it, Lucanis paused and looked around, shit, looks like Templars were wandering the area; someone must’ve reported their behavior after all. With a soft sigh, he shook his head and focused. He could debate dragon literature later.
Ziilahin on Chapter 1 Wed 04 Jun 2025 06:25PM UTC
Last Edited Wed 04 Jun 2025 06:25PM UTC
Comment Actions
KylesCreations on Chapter 1 Wed 04 Jun 2025 06:51PM UTC
Comment Actions
Ziilahin on Chapter 2 Thu 05 Jun 2025 03:16PM UTC
Comment Actions
Ziilahin on Chapter 3 Sat 07 Jun 2025 03:27AM UTC
Last Edited Sat 07 Jun 2025 03:28AM UTC
Comment Actions