9. DAMIAN

Chapter nine

DAMIAN

T he words almost slithered out of my mouth. It was dark, and fog was creeping out of the depths of the alleys, a tense silence like the moment right before a nightmare filling the air. A rat here and there scurried along the buildings, their small feet pattering on the cold ground.

Pausing for a few moments, the stillness enveloped me, suffocating my breath as if caught in a vise grip. Each inhale felt like a betrayal, a fear that exhaling would shatter the fragile reality I desperately clung to—the hope that he would come.

After a few more moments, I breathed out deeply, sucking back in more air. Was it fake? Did I fall for a stupid trap? Was I just as gullible as they would've wanted me to be?

Of course, it was a fraud. This must be some sort of joke. I lifted my hand and brushed my dark hair, releasing the anxiety in my fingers. The magic from the Old Religion was banned forever ago. What if this was a trap to find those who were willing to involve themselves in it? I'd heard of the king setting up traps such as this to find those going behind his back or breaking the law.

Without notice, a light flashed before me, making me lift my hands to shield my eyes from the blinding glare.

Swirls of white, yellow, and purple shimmered through the blank alley. The light diminished, revealing a dark figure only a few strides away. It seemed to be a man. The cloak he was wearing covered his dark face. Black ink peaked from his skin, barely seen. Almost as if he was deliberately hiding it.

Was this him? The alleyway immediately seemed to shrink around me, growing colder and heavier, forming a small twinge of fear in my gut.

The man revealed his face, moving his cloak behind his shoulders. His face was sagging with age, his skin a deep olive, creases filling the surface. His eyes were so blue that they looked like glass, sending shivers down my spine.

"Well, well, well," he said, his voice thick and deep. "Why have you called me here today?"

He started to circle around me, looking me up and down, like a predator sizing up prey. The way that his eyes pierced through mine felt like he knew my every thought and sin. His eyes squinted, as if he knew exactly why I had called him here.

I wanted to get the words out to answer his question, but I could feel my lip slightly trembling. Coughing, I released the tension from my jaw, preparing myself to speak to the sorcerer.

"I was told that you could bring back my fiancée," I said boldly and sharply, wanting to get to the point. He nodded and pulled his fingers out from his cloak, cracking them each with pressure.

There was smoke lifting up around the alleyway. Was he blocking the view from anyone being able to see us?

"Ahh, I see," he croaked deep from within his throat. "From the dead?" He peered over at me, his eyebrows slanted upward.

I nodded, gulping deep.

"There will be a price."

"I have nothing to lose," I gritted, holding back tears to hide the truth. Sebastia was my world. I would do anything. And nothing could be worse than what I had already done.

"Perfect." He tapped his fingers to his mouth, the nails lengthy and a deep purple, coated in a layer of grime. "I can bring Sebastia back if you are to bring me a Scaleborne."

He knew her name. I paused in place. How did he know her name?

I thought about his offer. A Scaleborne? It had been ages since I last heard about them, and I wasn't even aware that they still existed.

Memories of my city closing down from seeing one of them taunted my mind. The richer part of the people set out to hunt them. I was told that they were killed and used for their golden blood, and remembered my parents talking about how they could've used the money.

That was the last I had heard of one.

"Anything," I said. I would do anything to hold Sebastia again.

"You will have ten days to deliver me a Scaleborne. Alive," he said, slurring the word ‘alive.'