***Malric***
The training yard was filled with conversation as each recruit showed up for their scheduled training. Malric had arrived early to talk to Tyson, but Tyson was nowhere to be found.
"Odd." His confusion coming through his words.
He figured Tyson would be there early, eager to figure out what had happened the previous day.
Malric kept an eye out for Tyson as he noticed Instructor Henderson pacing back and forth. They locked eyes and he quickly made his way toward Malric.
"Malric, where is he?" The lack of patience in his voice was clear.
"We don't have time to wait, I should have gathered him myself. I knew this would happen."
'What is he talking about? Knew what would happen?' Malric was confused.
"May I ask what you mean by that?" he asked.
"I knew he wouldn't show. He's hiding something and we must figure out what it is. He must have a gemstone somewhere." Henderson looked around as if searching for something.
"That's it! Malric, I need you to find out whatever you can. He may be more willing to open up to you about it."
Malric wanted no part of this. He already didn't like Tyson, and now he must pretend to like him again. He had hoped his secret coming out would crush the "friendship" they had as partners.
"I'll see what I can do." He said reluctantly.
Malric left the training yard and made his way toward the housing, but he had one issue, he had no idea where Tyson lived.
He came to the first home and knocked. No answer.
He turned to leave when something caught his attention. Down the path, in another house, he noticed what seemed like a figure with a sword through a window. The sword shape looked oddly familiar.
"What an idiot…." He said as he made his way toward the house.
As he approached, he felt something was off, and as things became clearer, the more he knew something was off. The figure wasn't Tyson, unless he had turned into a woman overnight.
The thought of that brought a shallow laugh from him.
He walked up to the front door and knocked.
Nothing.
"Tyson, I know you're in there!" he shouted impatiently.
Still nothing.
"I saw the woman, I'd congratulate you, but we don't have time for this."
Again, nothing.
'Screw it,' he thought as he forced the door open.
Immediately, he knew something was off.
"Alright…. I hope you guys are decent, I'm coming in." he announced as he made his way into the bedroom.
He stepped into a dim room, lit only by the little light coming through the window, but it was enough to see her.
She stood over Tyson's unconscious body, silent and still, like a statue made of moonlight. One blade hung loose by her side, the other resting, but gripped just enough to be ready in a breath. Not aggressive, but prepared. Like a monster stalking its prey.
She was tall, not towering, but commanding. Lean, fit, and cold. Her pale skin kissed by death itself. Lacking clothes didn't seem to bother her in the least bit, like clothing was beneath her, every muscle lean and taut, toned for killing.
'She is stunning.'
That was the last thought he had before he had to duck to avoid a sword that came at him fast. It flew by his head, the wind kissing him as it impaled the door behind him. It wasn't an attempt at his life, but a warning.
The sword stopped humming, going through the door slightly.
Malric didn't move.
He didn't draw on his essence.
He didn't speak.
He knew when he was outpowered, and this was exactly that.
He raised his hands slowly, palms out, and stared at the mysterious moonlit woman before him.
Her eyes flicked to him, a blue blaze flashed through them for a moment, glowing faintly in the dim light.
Then, finally, she spoke.
"Next one won't miss."
Her voice was low. Smooth. Final.
'Why did I agree to do this?'
He swallowed hard and nodded once. "Noted."
She turned back to Tyson, blade still ready, eyes distant. Studying him like he was a puzzle she couldn't figure out.
"How is this possible," she murmured. "Soulbinders are rare and there shouldn't be any on a dying world."
"I'm sorry, did you say dying?" Malric took a step forward.
He knew he had messed up.
Before he could comprehend, a cold blade was pressed against his throat. She was in front of him in a split moment. Her eyes once again lit up blue. Cold.
"Move again and you will drown in your own blood." There was no anger in her voice. Just certainty.
That terrified him more than any rage or anger ever could.
'she's done this before' Malric thought. 'Too many times.'
"I'm not a threat," he croaked, throat straining against the sharp blade. "I just came here for Tyson."
His arms stayed raised, his stance as non-threatening as he could manage.
She glared at him. And there was nothing in her eyes.
No mercy.
No pity.
No humanity.
Whoever this woman was…. She didn't come here to play nice.
Her eyes shifted as she noticed a necklace. She lifted it and revealed the gemstone that was attached to the chain.
"Weak." She spat as she studied the opal. "How are you so weak?" her eyes stayed focused on the opal, her grip on the sword never wavering.
A groan cut through the silence.
Tyson shifted on the floor, his fingers twitching as consciousness clawed its way back.
The blade didn't move.
Malric held his breath, praying Tyson would speak fast enough to keep his throat intact.
Oriana's head snapped toward Tyson, her expression as dead pan as ever. "Convenient."
"Tyson," Malric hissed, barely moving his lips, a trickle of blood running down his lower neck. "Now would be a great time to wake the hell up."
Tyson blinked, dazed. "wha-Malric?"
The blade at Malric's neck vanished before he even saw her move. She turned her full attention to Tyson, ignoring Malric entirely. He nearly collapsed in relief as the pressure released from his neck.
***Tyson***
Before he could wake completely two ice blue eyes took up his entire vision. Before him was a woman, who didn't know what personal space was. Her face was within inches of his own. She studied him, expressionless.
"Can…. I help you...?" he hesitantly asked.
She said nothing and continued to study him. Tyson leaned to the side and looked at Malric, who was leaning against the wall, sweat pouring, and a line of blood running down his throat, relief plastered on his face.
He shrugged at Tyson.
"You're so weak." She said eyes not moving.
Tyson's head was pounding, and now he was being insulted by a stranger.
'What the hell is her problem?'
"Why are you in my home?" he asked, anger leaking through his words.
Her icy stare unsettled him. This was no ordinary person. She felt familiar to him, but he knew he had never seen her before. He would remember those eyes.
"How did you do it?" Her voice sliced through the silence.
"You are in my home; you answer my question first." He shot back.
"How," her eyes glowed faintly, "did you do it?"
"Just answer her Tyson, trust me." Malric said reluctantly, he was still collecting himself.
Her head snapped in his direction and Malric raised his hands in surrender, looking away.
"No, you can't just come into my home and demand things from me." Tyson said, annoyed now.
'Who the hell does she think she is?'
Oriana stepped back; she looked impressed.
That's when Tyson noticed she was wearing nothing. His face turned red as he looked away quickly.
"Where are your clothes?" he asked.
She looked down at herself as if noticing for the first time she was completely naked.
"Do you not know?" she asked.
"Know what?" He was nearing his breaking point.
"You are soulbound with me. you're a soulbinder." She said, "now, how did you do it?"
Tyson was more confused now than he was moments before.
'Soulbinder?' He had never heard of a soulbinder.
He sat up finally, groaning. His head was pounding, but her words echoed louder than the pain.
"Soulbinder?" He asked.
Oriana nodded once.
"Yes. And unless you want to die, you'll start taking that seriously."
'WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN!?' He was becoming frustrated.
Their eyes met once again, and for the first time, she blinked. Once. Slowly. Like something ancient settling into place.
"You shouldn't exist. And I," she paused, "I shouldn't be here."
She stepped closer, her presence overwhelming. Every breath of air seemed to answer to her.
"We are bound," she whispered. "By soul. By power. By fate."
Tyson felt it then. That familiar feeling he had, it clicked.
He could feel her.
Her essence. Her power. How cold she was.
He shivered and tried to pull back mentally.
Oriana turned to walk away, she stared at Malric, who moved slightly so she could grab her other sword.
"Prepare yourself," she said, not looking back. "We have much to discuss."