The Lord of Veins | Shadow Slave

"If we don't hurry up,"

She called out,

"We will be late and won't be able to attend the festival!"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Zerin questioned, a hint of frustration in his voice.

She took quick strides to the door and swung it open.

"Just come on!"

She urged, tugging on his arm pulling him out the door.

His own heavy breathing was drowned out by the persistent rumbling, as he followed her down the stairs. She moved with surprising speed, almost gliding down the winding staircase. The rumbling they chased was none other than the drums of the start of The Festival.

Passing through the southern doors that led to the grounds, Zerin was once more swarmed by the familiar scent of iron. He instinctively raised the collar of his shirt over his nose. The air hung heavy, with a definite increase in humidity than the previous days.

They followed the stone path, drawing closer to the wall of torches. A figure blocked them from entering into the festival grounds. The hefty man stood, clad in intricately designed half-skirt that brushed just below his knees. Shirtless and adorned with splatters of red paint that glistened wetly on his bloated stomach, he loomed over them.

The hefty man rumbled in deep voice.

"Just barely made it by..."

Zerin's expression of surprise by his stature swiftly twisted into disgust as the man casually wiped a smear of paint off his belly with his thumb, then smear it onto Wisteria's face.

'Fucking gross!'

Zerin thought, recoiling at the act.

"Come... You need to get marked to be granted passage."

Wisteria insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument.

He recoiled in revulsion as the pot-bellied man waddled closer, his movements unsettling. A grotesque sight, the man pressed both of his fat thumbs into the wet blobs of paint splattered on his belly, then proceeded to smear the sticky, warm pain on each side of Zerin's face.

'I want to die!'

Zerin's inner voice screamed in horror.

The hefty man, satisfied with his handiwork, stepped aside, granting them passage to the festival. As he walked alongside Wisteria, Zerin's face was filled with repulsion. Every fiber of his being urged him to wipe the warm paint off his face, he fought his impulse, swallowing his discomfort.

"Are you seriously making a face about a little paint?"

Wisteria lectured, oblivious to his inner turmoil.

"What the hell is this even for?"

Zerin demanded.

"It's for the goddess; she can see those who are marked... Or so the tradition says,"

Wisteria explained softly.

'Bullshit...'

Following behind her, Zerin was guided through the wooden barricades, the lively sounds of laughter and drums growing louder as they approached. When they breached the barrier, a vast expanse was revealed, people reveling in the festivities, dancing, drinking, and engaging in games.

But Zerin's gaze was irresistibly drawn to the massive conglomerate of people clustered together, their movements synchronized to the rhythmic beat of drums. The women, they flaunted their bodies in a dangerous dance. The men, equally captivated by the pulsating beat of the drums, joined in with seamless coordination.

A few people sported a hoop made of intricately woven linen. As they danced a partner would skillfully navigate through the hoop, intertwining with their movements.

"What are they doing?"

Zerin asked, taking in this active scene.

Wisteria blushed slightly, as she averted her gaze.

"Dancing, what else could it be?"

She replied softly.

"I personally am not too fond of dancing, are you?"

Zerin confessed, his gaze lingering on the swirling dancers.

She turned to respond,

"Never danced in my life,"

She admitted with a hint of amusement.

She then turned her gaze again.

"Are you hungry?"

She asked, shifting the conversation.

"I can have a bite or two,"

He replied nonchalantly, his attention peeling away from the crowd.

"A bite? Who says that?"

She teased, a smile played on her lips.

She laughed as she made her way towards the herd of dancers.

"Wait, didn't we say we are going to get something to eat?"

Zerin called after her, with a confused voice.

"Well, it's faster through the crowd,"

She explained, her voice barely audible over the festive commotion.

She effortlessly navigated through the crowd. The dance ground, a sea of bodies, ebbing and flowing to the rhythm of the drums. The shifting mass of people made it challenging for Zerin to maintain a clear view of her, until he found himself lost in the swirling crowd.

'Wait... Where did she go?'

Panic flickered in Zerin's mind as he stood amidst the crowd, feeling disoriented and unsure of his surroundings. The sea of bodies seemed to blend together—just bodies shuffling through like a deck of cards before his eyes.

A wave of relief washed over him as a hand suddenly reached out, pulling him from his moment of confusion.

To his surprise, it was not Wisteria who had grasped his hand, but an unfamiliar beautiful woman. As he turned to face his rescuer, he was stuck by her stunning appearance.

Every movement of the woman's body projected a harmonious blend of grace and control that mesmerized those around her.

"I'm sorry, I—"

Zerin began, his voice trailing off as he found himself momentarily at a loss for words. The beat of the drums seemed to fade as the pulse of his heart filled his ears.

Ignoring him, she initiated a mesmerizing dance, her hips swaying gently in a hypnotic rhythm. Each movement of her abdomen was a display of control, her toned abdomen undulating with practiced precision. In a sudden twist, she spun around, her long, dark hair cascading like a darkened halo around her.

Zerin found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her, a weakness he couldn't quite comprehend in that moment. But it didn't matter, for all eyes in the crowd were fixated on her, transforming her into the undeniable star.

As she pressed against Zerin, two unexpected revelations dawned on him. Firstly, her sudden proximity caught him off guard, the heat of her body searing against his. Secondly, her height surpassed his expectations, her stature slightly taller than he had anticipated.

"Can we just—"

Zerin attempted to interject, his words faltering in the face of her presence.

Before he could finish his sentence, she deftly raised her thigh alongside his waist, a subtle yet deliberate gesture that left him speechless. A faint smile graced her lips as she lifted his chin, compelling him to meet her gaze, the intensity of her emerald eyes drawing him in with an irresistible pull.

His cheeks flushed with a warmth he couldn't ignore as he found himself ensnared by her captivating gaze. Try as he might, he couldn't tear his eyes away from the depths of her emerald irises, each glance like a magnetic force.

Just as the spell seemed unbreakable, an unexpected interruption shattered the moment. A third party intervened, grabbing his arm and forcibly pulling him away from the enigmatic woman with the piercing emerald eyes. It was as though he had been yanked from the clutches of a consuming addiction, leaving him disoriented and strangely resistant.

"I take my eye off you for one second, and you're dancing with her of all people?"

Wisteria's voice sliced through the pulse of the drums, laced with a mixture of disbelief and simmering anger.

The Dancer cast a fleeting glance at Wisteria before lifting her head defiantly, a silent challenge in her expression as she averted her gaze.

Wisteria let out a frustrated huff before seizing his hand and carving a path through the crowd.

"She approached me..."

Zerin began, attempting to explain, only to be met with her dismissive scoff.

"Whatever. Are you hungry, or do you intend to continue dancing with her?"

Wisteria's arms folded across her chest, her stance expectant as she awaited his response.

"You must have noticed how she captivated every young man in the area. It was inevitable she'd set her sights on you next... like fresh meat,"

Wisteria's words dripped with a hint of disdain, her tone sharp.

"Fresh meat?"

His voice echoed.

"Yeah! Her next target. And you seemed to enjoy the attention, a real perv..."

Wisteria's accusation hung in the air.

Zerin felt the urge to defend himself, to say his truth. But the more he thought the more he questioned.

'Why the hell do I have to explain myself?'

"I am not a pervert,"

His words spoke with a slight frustration, a firm declaration.

"Yeah, right..."

Wisteria's response dripped with skepticism, as she gave him a side eyed.

"I am hungry. Let's get something to eat,"

Wisteria declared; her tone brisk as she secured Zerin's hand pulling him along.

"Let go of me..."

He protested weakly.

"Why? so, you can disappear again?"

Wisteria's comeback was sharp, her grip unyielding as she tugged him along.

'It's impossible to reason with this kind of person I swear!'

Zerin thought internally as he reluctantly yielded to her unwavering determination, allowing himself to be led towards the bustling food area of the festival.

-

-

-

The festival's food area buzzed as people traveled in and out of the food area. The tantalizing aromas that enveloped the air captured Wisteria in a whirlwind of excitement. Colorful stalls adorned with an assortment of delectable treats beckoned to her.

'And I was called childish...'

Zerin thought to himself as he followed closely behind her.

Without hesitation, Wisteria seized a plate, handing it to Zerin. Her eyes darted back scanning the diverse selection of offerings with keen interest. From sizzling vegetable kebabs to fragrant salads and steaming bowls of red noodles, no delicacy escaped her discerning gaze before finally landing on the grand delicacy.

"Behold, the blood loaf!"

She announced with a hint of amusement, gesturing towards the mysterious bread with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Zerin arched an eyebrow,

"Is everything named after blood or body parts around here?"

Wisteria chuckled softly, a playful light dancing in her eyes as she explained,

"Most of it... It's all part of the theme."

"Theme?"

Zerin questioned.

"Yeah, it's a nod to our goddess."

Wisteria elaborated, smiling almost proudly.

Offering Zerin a slice of the enigmatic bread, Wisteria's gesture was accompanied by a warm smile as she added it to the already overflowing plate of food. As the weight of the plate shifted in his hands, he attempted to find a balance, adjusting his grip to accommodate the generous feast before him.

"Why so much?"

He questioned, his gaze flickering between Wisteria and the towering mound of food on the plate.

Turning to meet his gaze, Wisteria's braided pigtails swayed with her movement as she flashed him a playful grin.

"We're sharing,"

she declared with a wink.

Wisteria's attention was so easily captured as she spotted the sight of another enticing treat, Zerin couldn't help but shake his head as he turned away to survey the bustling food area and the animated chatter happening throughout the area.

Turning back from his observation, he found himself suddenly startled by the presence of Wisteria's mother standing in close proximity, causing him to jump.

"You're quite jumpy, aren't you?"

Wisteria's mother remarked with a lighthearted chuckle, her laughter muffled by the gentle press of her hand against her lips.

Wisteria turned around slightly in response to hearing her mother's voice.

"Come with me, dear. Your father wishes to have a word with you."

Exhaling softly, Wisteria relaxed her shoulders,

"Oh... Okay."

Wisteria responded with a trace of reluctance, her gaze briefly meeting Zerin's before tenderly added a cookie to the already towering mound of food on the plate in his hands.

"I'll be back soon, so don't you eat all of it,"

She issued a playful warning to him.

"You just find a table and wait for me,"

She added before swiftly departing with her mother.

Zerin's eyes descended upon the plate of food.

'As if finishing all this is even possible for a human!'

Zerin's gaze wandered about the festive surroundings, a soft murmur of contemplation falling from his lips as he navigated through the lively crowd, eventually finding a vacant table to settle at.

Taking a seat, his attention shifted to the overflowing plate before him, a confusing assortment. His hand reached for the gleaming silverware. The polished utensils had intricate engravings upon its shiny surface.

As his eyes briefly trailed the graceful movements of a group of dancers dancing to the drums, he focused on his meal, plunging the fork decisively into the mound of food before deftly transferring a generous bite to his awaiting mouth.

Just as he was about to savor the next mouthful, this solitary moment, he was joined by the arrival of two boys, roughly his age, who sat at his table across from him.

"Did you speak to Vani?"

One of the boys ask, his tone carrying a hint of curiosity as he leaned in slightly, his gaze fixed intently on Zerin.

Intrigued by the unexpected question, Zerin responded with a tone of curiosity lacing his words,

"Vani?"