The Reaper's Wicked Obsession

Three Moons Later

Dealer’s Isle

An elderly man walked down the dark alley, eyes skimming around randomly.

The last thing he wanted was to roam around in the late hours because the dangers the night held in Dealer’s Isle were far from simple.

You either end up killed, chopped up into pieces, and sold to the right bidder, or you’re auctioned up as a false rarity.

"I’m here, where are you?" he said to no one in particular. Did he not get the location right?

"I’m risking a lot meeting you!" He whispered-hissed.

But after a minute of aimless calls that made him seem like a lunatic, he decided it was no use risking his life for. The Reaper can go to hell!

He turned to leave, but a blade positioned at his throat stopped him. He swallowed a thick lump and lowered his eyes to the clean steel with runes engraved on it.

When he raised his gaze, a massive figure materialized from the dark.

"You made a mistake trying to walk away. What happened to patience being a virtue?" Kraven said, with a dark edge to his tone that sent a shiver down the man’s spine.

"F-Forgive me, Reaper." The elderly man swallowed once again. "Are you the Reaper?" he asked just to be sure.

The rumors had it that amusement was one of the traits of this terrifying warrior and even amidst his killings.

Yet this Fae that stood before him was nothing like the rumours.

He was far worse, and the glint in his silver eyes was dulled by the pupils that remained dilated.

And he was unamused. It wasn’t a pleasant look on him.

Kraven tilted his head in a slow, inhumane way. "Do you question my identity?"

"No, no I—" His words were cut shut when Kraven moved the blade closer.

"Are you Orric? The skillful skin weaver in these parts?"

"I wouldn’t say the most skillful, but I have knowledge that far exceeds other skin weavers in their time."

"It’s good you’re honest." Kraven leaned closer. "Because if you weren’t, I would have taken your hands as an apology."

Orric shivered. "Yo-Your companion came to me, said you needed me. He’s a friend of mine, so I couldn’t refuse even when he said he was involved with you."

Kraven redrew his blade and sheathed it behind his back.

"What could the Reaper need my expertise for?" He asked with narrowed eyes.

Kraven didn’t reply and simply grabbed his arm. They vanished in a weave of shadow.

~♧~

They reappeared in front of an inn, close to the ocean’s edge. The soothing sound of the waves filled the air.

Orric opened his eyes and gasped, his eyes glimpsing the area, wondering how they got here so fast.

"Do your best not to question me and do what I ask," Kraven said. "I’ll pay you whatever you want."

"I’m a Fae who cares deeply for his patients. I’ll not question, only do what I’m set out for. As for the payment, let’s say I owe young Logi a debt after he won half my fortune winters ago."

"I can work with that." Kraven walked to the door. "Follow me."

Orric followed behind and stepped into the space. His eyes swept the empty tables and then on the Innkeeper relaxing on his seat with legs up the table, smoking from a pipe.

"Why is no one here?" Orric asked, puzzled. Shouldn’t an inn be busy? Especially one as cozy as this. Patrons should be relaxing and drinking in this place.

"I paid for the whole place," Kraven replied, walking to the stairs.

The innkeeper spotted him coming and quickly shot to his feet, clearing his throat.

Orric kept his eyes on him as he strode up the stairs leading to a long corridor.

Logi leaned next to a door with arms folded, waiting. The moment he saw them, he pushed off the wall and faced them.

"Orric," Logi said.

"Logi, it’s nice to see you," Orric said with a faint smile. "You should have told me the Reaper himself was the one coming to get me, I would have been patient."

Logi shrugged. "We needed to be careful and not draw too much attention."

"Oh."

"Enough," Kraven cut in. He grabbed the doorknob and pried the door open.

"Is my patient there?"

"Yes."

Orric nodded and stepped into the cozy room, where the windows were decorated with flowers. He cautiously turned to the Reaper, who pinned him with a look that said he shouldn’t question him.

With wide eyes, Orric turned back to the room that had no trace of any of their personality and it made him wonder why they went through so much trouble.

The only answer was with whoever lay on that bed. Curtains were around, restricting the view.

Orric took a step closer.

"Careful," Kraven growled, completely forgetting the reason why he was here.

However, having someone close to her in that vulnerable position never bore well for him. It was difficult having all those skin weavers come here to diagnose her condition.

He was always tempted to rip them to pieces with his bare hands.

"Kraven," Logi said, placing a hand on Kraven’s shoulder, but he shook it off.

Logi swallowed hard and looked away. Kraven had given the cold shoulder ever since the destruction of the Serpents. They barely talked and only did when it concerned Isadora.

Orric faced them. "If I’m going to attend to her, you have to trust me."

"I don’t," Kraven said sternly. "I understand the fact that you’re not useless like the other skin weavers." He stepped closer. "I should warn you. If you prove yourself useless like them, you’ll leave here with a missing limb just like the others."

Orric shivered, facing Logi with broad eyes, with a look that said. ’This is not what I signed up for!’

"What he means is, we need results," Logi cut in, trying to kill the tension in the air, but Kraven wasn’t helping matters with the bloodlust hanging in the air.

"I-I’ll keep that in mind," Orric said, backing away and turning back to the bed.

His eyes narrowed as his curiosity got the best of him. He clutched the curtain and opened it. "Dear Alda!"