Useless as a mage, Silvia Copse finds herself so upset that she goes and gets black out drunk at the bar. So drunk that she can't tell up from down, she picks up a man with red eyes, white hair, and skin of ice.
What does a useless mage do when the...
اوووه! هذه الصورة لا تتبع إرشادات المحتوى الخاصة بنا. لمتابعة النشر، يرجى إزالتها أو تحميل صورة أخرى.
Silvia opened her eyes to a tan ceiling that looked to be made of stone, but before she could turn her head someone grabbed her face on either side. Terror seized her as she tried to make sense of where she was, and she punched the man straight in the throat. He went down much too easily and gasped for air on the ground as she sat up and looked down to figure out who he was.
Dim grey eyes met her, shaped by almost crimson hair that had a deep streak of grey down one side, and the man waved his hand as if to get her to give him a second. Struggling to get back to his feet, the man pulled his chair back over and sat so heavily into it that she felt bad about hitting him. Moving for this man seemed painful. And he was a mage, or at least she thought he was.
"Are you okay?" Silvia asked, and the man rubbed his throat with a frown. "Your energy is so weak that I'm worried you're going to pass out."
"I'm... fine." The man scratched out in a soft voice. It was hoarse as if he didn't use it frequently, and kinder, as if he didn't raise it either. "I used what energy I had to heal you, and I was already weak beforehand. I could use a nap." The man chuckled weakly.
"S-sorry. You touched me right when I woke up, so I was frightened."
"I know." The man's grey eyes softened. "I just wanted to tell you that you're safe and that no one here can hurt you anymore, before you turned around."
"Turned around?" Silvia looked to the other side, and immediately froze.
Sitting in a chair on the other side of her bed, not more than a foot away, Talamayas Sol met her gaze with shadowed crimson eyes, and she clutched the bed sheets to herself. Tears lined her eyes and she couldn't look at him, instead dropping her eyes to her hands. Lifting them, she touched her stomach and it was covered in a hospital shirt instead of her normal blood slave clothes, but it made her feel less covered.
"Are you not done with me?" Silvia choked out, and the mage at her side stood and sat on the bed next to her.
"You are safe," he said, and she wanted to punch him again, but he looked so weak. "I was a prisoner in his dungeons, and he had no other healing mages. I healed you in exchange for my freedom and safety, but demanded yours as well. I would heal you no other way, and the agreement was a blood pact. The seal will cripple him if he raises a hand to you."
"You were a prisoner?" Silvia felt really bad now for punching him in the throat.
"Yes, I'm Wren, nice to meet you." The man smiled so pleasantly at her, and she sighed before glancing at Talamayas Sol.
The man was silent, which was extremely odd considering her was the house head here. Why hadn't he said anything? What did he want with her? She didn't have it in her to try and figure out some pyromaniac's inner workings. The man has signed some sort of blood pact promising to not hurt her though. That made her feel significantly safer, but why had he signed it? What did he get out of this?
