9. Volezimir

9

VOLEZIMIR

I step onto the creaking dock, my glamour settling over me like a second skin. The air reeks of fish guts and desperation. Perfect. This shithole's exactly where I'd expect to find leads on Zylpha's captors.

My fists clench at my sides. Fuck, I should've been there. Should've protected her. The rage bubbling in my chest threatens to spill over, but I force it down. Later. There'll be time for that later.

The Seven know that it's been coming up more and more. Never in my life have I been so angry, so ready to fight. I've never been a violent man, even before my injury. I fought, as a demon should, but now I'm out prowling for a fight. Ready to raze this whole town down to find Zylpha.

I stride toward the nearest tavern, a ramshackle building with grimy windows and the sound of drunken laughter spilling out. Inside, it's dim and smoky. I scan the room, noting exits and potential threats. Old habits.

"Whiskey," I growl at the bartender, sliding onto a stool. He eyes me warily but pours. Smart man. Most elves can tell I'm not like them. The chaos energy feels different. But the glamour is strong enough that none have seen through it yet.

I toss back the drink, savoring the burn. "Heard there was some excitement 'round here lately. Ship full of slaves, mix of dark elves and minotaurs running the show. Ring any bells?"

The bartender's eyes widen slightly. "Dunno nothin' 'bout that," he mutters, suddenly very interested in wiping down the bar.

I lean in close, dropping my voice. "You sure about that? 'Cause I'm willing to make it worth your while for any... useful information."

He hesitates, glancing around nervously. I slide a pouch of coins across the bar. His hand darts out, snatching it up.

"Alright," he whispers. "There was a ship. Came through 'bout a week ago. Real nasty bunch. Minotaur Captain, one that usually doesn't come into the ports…if you know what I mean."

My blood runs cold. Fucking minotaur pirate by the sounds of it.

"Where?" I demand, my voice a low growl.

The bartender swallows hard. "That's all I heard."

I nod, tossing back the rest of my drink. As I stand to leave, the bartender calls out, "Hey, you didn't hear none of this from me, yeah?"

I fix him with a cold stare. "Hear what?"

Outside, I duck into a shadowy alley, my glamour flickering as I struggle to maintain control. And then I head to the next. If word is out that some pirates dared to come up to the Sorcerer-King's shores, then there must be more information out here.

I prowl through the seedier parts of the port town, rage simmering beneath the surface. Every dead end, every useless bit of information pushes me closer to the edge. But I can't lose control. Not yet. Not until I find her.

In a dingy alleyway, I corner a nervous-looking elf with shifty eyes and clothes that reek of cheap booze. "You," I growl, letting a hint of my true form show through the glamour. "You know things about ships coming in and out of this port? Any nearby?" I don't know where all they've taken her, where they've tried to sell her.

The thought makes my magic flare, and I know he sees it in my eyes.

The elf tries to bolt, but I'm faster. My hand shoots out, pinning him against the grimy wall. "I'm not asking again," I snarl, my eyes glowing with barely contained power. "Tell me what you know about a ship that came through here recently. Minotaur Captain, mixed crew, human cargo."

"I-I don't know nothin'!" he stammers, eyes wide with fear.

I lean in close, letting my glamour slip just enough to reveal my true nature. "Wrong answer," I hiss. "I can smell the lies on you. And trust me, you don't want to know what happens to liars."

The elf's resolve crumbles. "Alright, alright! There was a ship, like you said. Came through 'bout a week ago. Real nasty piece of work, that Captain. Goes by the name of Bloodhorn."

I loosen my grip slightly. "Go on."

"Captain keeps to himself! That's all I know. "

I release him, tossing him to the street. "You hear something, you come to me, you understand?"

I don't need to finish the threat. The elf nods and scurries away, leaving me with very little to go off of. But at least now I have a name.

Over the next few hours, I repeat this process with various lowlifes and dock workers. Some require more... persuasion than others. I use a combination of intimidation, bribery, and subtle magic to loosen tongues and pry out every scrap of information I can.

I'm stalking through another dingy alleyway when I hear footsteps behind me. Too many, too coordinated. Fuck. I spin around, finding myself face-to-face with a group of rough-looking bounty hunters. Their leader, a scarred dark elf, grins nastily.

"Well, well. Looks like we found ourselves someone with a good bit of money," he sneers. "Heard you could line our pockets."

"For information." I let my cool gaze scrape over the leader of the group. "But I can already tell you're more brawn than brains."

I let the insult sink in, and the elf's face twists. "I'll make you pay for that."

Something inside me snaps. All the rage, the self-loathing, the fear for Zylpha - it comes boiling to the surface. A feral snarl rips from my throat as I let the glamour drop completely.

"You want me?" I growl, shadows writhing around me like living smoke. "Come and fucking get me."

They charge, and I meet them with unbridled fury. My fists connect with flesh, the satisfying crunch of bone beneath my knuckles. I'm not holding back anymore. Every blow is fueled by my anger at myself for failing to protect Zylpha, for letting her slip away.

A knife flashes in the dim light. I grab the attacker's wrist, twisting until I hear a sharp crack. He screams, but I'm already moving on to the next. The shadows respond to my rage, lashing out like whips to trip and entangle my opponents.

I roar as I throw one bounty hunter into another, their bodies slamming against the alley wall. It feels good to unleash this pent-up fury, to let the demon inside me loose. Part of me knows I should be ashamed of this violence, but right now, I don't give a fuck.

Blood splatters the cobblestones as I slam my fist into the orc leader's face. He goes down hard, and I stand over him, chest heaving. The rest of his crew is either unconscious or fleeing.

"Next time," I snarl, "pick an easier target."

As the rush of battle fades, I'm left feeling hollow. All that anger, and I'm still no closer to finding Zylpha. I lean against the alley wall, letting out a ragged breath. The shadows recede, leaving me alone with my thoughts in the blood-stained alley.

"Whiskey," I say as I walk into the tavern. It's the same bartender it's been all week and he pushes a dingy glass toward me.

"You found her, yet?" I glare at him as I knock the glass back and slam it on the bar top. "That's what I thought. Seems like it's time to give it up."

I slam my fist on the bar, the wood creaking under the force. "I'm not letting her go," I snarl, baring my teeth at the bartender.

He sighs, shaking his head. "Look, man. It's been four nights. Your slave is long gone. Humans are a dime a dozen - just get yourself another one."

The rage bubbles up inside me, threatening to spill over. I want to reach across the bar and shake some sense into this idiot.

But I can't blow my cover. He's given it to me easily, clearly taking me for a pissed slave master. I take a deep breath, forcing myself to calm down.

"You should know better than to just let someone do you wrong," I growl, my voice low and dangerous. But I'm not talking about Zylpha. I'm after this damned minotaur Captain. "I can't forgive that."

The bartender raises an eyebrow. "Well, she's probably halfway across the continent by now. Minotaur ships move fast, and they don't exactly leave a trail."

I lean in close, letting a hint of my true nature seep through the glamour. "I don't care if I have to search every port on this fucking planet. I'm not stopping until I find her."

The bartender takes a step back, his eyes widening slightly. "Alright, alright. Your business is your own. But don't say I didn't warn you."

I toss back the rest of my drink, slamming the empty glass on the bar. As I stand to leave, the bartender calls out, "Hey, if you're really set on this, there's a guy down by the docks. Goes by the name of Salty Pete. If anyone knows anything about ship movements, it'd be him."

I nod curtly, tossing a few coins on the bar before heading out into the night. The air is thick with the stench of fish and unwashed bodies, but I barely notice it anymore. My mind is focused on one thing: finding Zylpha.

As I make my way towards the docks, I can't help but replay the bartender's words in my head. Just get yourself another one. The thought makes my stomach churn. These people, treating humans like they're disposable. Like Zylpha is replaceable.

But she's not. She's... everything. The way her eyes light up when she laughs. The determined set of her jaw when she's working in the garden. The softness of her skin against mine. I clench my fists, pushing down the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm me.

I will find her. No matter what it takes.

I'll get my Sunshine back.