The Devil's Mark

He fought back unmanly tears with all his might, but when he looked down into her eyes and saw only compassion, they barreled through his defenses. As he sobbed his way to the ground, her arms provided a firm anchor that kept him from slipping away from reality. With a small choke and wipe of his still-blurry eyes, Leon looked up at Y'ssaria's pale countenance.

"Why can't you hate me?"

Y'ssaria stared at him for a long while, her expression absolutely unreadable and her tone equally so when she deigned to speak. "Because I know what it is to be hated...especially when you don't deserve it." Her red eyes darkened. "At times, I do. But I know for a fact that you don't."

"How?"

She reached out and thumbed his cheek. "Because you speak to me and eat with good manners, you love your family despite their mistrust, and in spite of this so-called 'curse,' you've never hurt a single person in your life."

He blinked slowly. "And how do you know all that?"

"Because despite the fact that your mother despises you, your voice still hints of fondness, and all the scars you bear are from wounds received, not wounds inflicted." Y'ssaria gave him the faintest hint of a smirk. "I might've chanced a peek when I undressed you last night."

Leon burned bright red and refused to meet her amused gaze after that, at least not until her laughter had calmed somewhat. When he finally looked at her, it was because she physically reoriented his head.

"That aside, I would like to know your answer, so what do you say?" She smiled warmly. "It'll give you an interesting way to pass the time, at the very least."

Leon frowned and tilted his head. "I suppose that's true." He thought for a while, eventually looking back to meet her unnatural, inquisitive eyes. "All right, Izzy. I'm all yours."

Y'ssaria laughed and clapped her hands. "Fantastic. Now, I will warn you, there is a cost to this."

Leon blinked. "A-All right?"

She bared her fangs in a smile. "I have hungers that need sating, and it just so happens that you have very sweet blood."

He pursed his lips and looked off to the side for a moment before shrugging. "Well, I suppose that's fair. After all, you are giving me asylum in..." he glanced around, "a very nice home. And it...wasn't exactly unpleasant last time." His cheeks warmed a bit at the memory of her closeness.

Y'ssaria chuckled softly. "Well then, shall we get started?"

...

Time flew by in an endless blur of activity for the two, and soon they operated in a well-worn routine that felt natural to both. They'd wake up—or rather he would—and find his host already awake with a hearty breakfast prepared for him. Afterward, she would start his reading lessons, very patiently working with him through the basics and every stumbling word he read. Then, once that was done, they would have dinner or a late lunch and walk around the grounds of Dämmerung Keep, exchanging stories of past experiences or places they'd visited. Y'ssaria would inquire of his past life, of the few people in his history who'd shown him genuine kindness and how much they meant to him.

Of her, he would ask about her travels, and she taught him much about the world outside those mountains. She told him of the frigid fjords of Scandinavia, of the hardy people who made such inhospitable lands their home. She told him of the scorching sands and bountiful oases of Africa, of the towering pyramids in Egypt and the library at Alexandria. She told him of the Holy City so coveted by Crusader and Saracen alike, of the vast ruins left in the wake of their conflict that endured despite all the destruction. Leon drank it all in like fine wine, an endless sponge for all kinds of knowledge, and Y'ssaria delighted to have someone so attentive to talk to.

It had been centuries since she'd found such a receptive (she hesitated to say captive) audience, and she used every opportunity and his every curiosity to share what she knew. They ate together, learned together, exercised together, lived together; all the while she saw the traces of his pain and bitterness slowly fade away like wrinkles never to appear again. Months passed like this, and from the wasting, lean form he'd come with; Leon grew into a body sculpted like fine marble, with eyes keen as razors and a mind to match. Truly, Y'ssaria could not have been prouder of him.

And yet, she felt something was off the longer they knew each other, like there was something he was holding back. It was in the way he moved and spoke around her, a certain...restraint in his demeanor that grew gradually every day. Leon was never less than friendly, though they certainly had their spats. In one instance a few months in, she'd been in a mood and allowed her own bitterness to shine through a bit too much when speaking of his mother. In spite of everything she'd done to him, Leon still loved the woman, that much was clear. So when she resorted to calling the hag a...well, hag, he took particular offense to that and wouldn't speak to her for two days.

The look in his eyes when he scolded her and walked away was...well, it was so pure she couldn't help but feel shame at her lack of restraint. Y'ssaria might never stop believing that a woman who refused to love her own child—especially one and sweet and compassionate as Leon—deserved any less than her full measure of contempt, but his youthful naivete and innate sense of fairness was what had drawn her to him in the first place. It was this sense of fairness that led him to develop a deep-seated righteous fury the more he read the Word that had so often been used to vilify him. As he realized just how egregiously the priest of his village had misled his parish, Y'ssaria had seen this other side of him develop more and more.

And it was with the advent of this fury that she decided he was ready for a different kind of learning. Which was how they found themselves here, in a room filled with weapons and set apart for combat, holding practice foils from Luxembourg. He'd been practicing the finer points of fencing and other forms of combat for weeks now, and as with his other learning, Leon had proven himself a quick study. That she now felt the need to actually try to keep up with his movements was evidence enough of his progress, but he still had a long way to go.

A pair of quick strikes to the head and shoulders was deflected by Y'ssaria with the ease that came of centuries of experience. She countered with a quick tap to the chest that he took with a frustrated grunt, drawing back to reorient himself.

"Keep your cool," she instructed smoothly. "Lose your temper in a fight, and you've lost the fight."

Leon blinked and lowered his foil slightly. "Really? I always thought anger gave you strength in battle."

"It can," she admitted, "if properly harnessed, but you must master the fundamentals before you can effectively tap into that kind of power." They paced around each other as she continued to teach him. "Channeling rage is a skill that can take a lifetime to cultivate. It requires a high degree of emotional health and self-control that not everyone has."

Leon nodded slowly, his body loose and relaxed until he feinted high and lunged low with a stab that she deflected away from her gut. "And do you?"

Y'ssaria smiled bitterly as she countered a high slash with a riposte to the shoulder that he just managed to twist away from. "Let's just say I've had multiple lifetimes to learn."

Thoughts filled her head of the stories Leon had told her of his family and village, of the injustices perpetrated against him that reminded her of so many persecuted innocents in history...and at times of herself. The more she focused on that, the stronger and faster her attacks came, until a loud clang reached her ears and she realized she'd flung Leon's foil clear across the room and had the blunted tip of her own barely an inch from his neck. Leon was staring at her with wide eyes and his hands up in surrender. Y'ssaria cursed internally at her lack of restraint; she hadn't had this much issue keeping her temper in check in decades. Something about this man's life just...set her off like no one's business.

To keep face, she cleared her throat and forced her body to relax. "Like that," she said in an effort to explain away her brief lapse in control.

Leon nodded slowly, keeping eye contact with her until she began to lower her foil. And then he did something she hadn't expected in the slightest. He tackled her, to the ground, with a hand on her armed wrist and his forearm pressing against her clavicle. Y'ssaria landed square on her back, the dull thud of the impact jolting her not nearly as much as her shock at his boldness. From this position, if she'd been an ordinary human, he would clearly have the upper hand; the fight would already be over. A swell of pride warmed her chest as she smiled at his brilliant exploitation of her lack of focus.

And then he apparently realized where he was and began to burn red as he hurriedly pushed himself off, refusing to meet her gaze.

Y'ssaria cocked her head and slowly sat up. "What was that? You had me dead to rights; why did you stop?"

"Well, um..." he continued to look everywhere except at her, "I'd already won, right? I mean, I would've, if you'd been human. The fight was over."

She crossed her arms, foil tucked in the crook of her elbow, and arched an eyebrow at him. "I suppose yes, technically. But in the real world you can't afford to hesitate when you get that upper hand. You have to finish the job, understand?"

"Of course," he replied quickly. "And I certainly wouldn't hesitate if I was up against an enemy, but..." Leon finally glanced her way, "you're not."

Y'ssaria smirked. "I can take whatever you dish out and more. You couldn't hurt me if you wanted to."

"But still, I..." Leon frowned and looked down, "I don't want to. At all. You're my friend."

Y'ssaria blinked hard, staring at him blankly. She was silent a long time, sighing hard as she approached him and gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Not in this ring I'm not. I'm your instructor." She forced him to meet her gaze. "And I'm telling you: don't hesitate next time."

His lips pursed as he nodded firmly. "Understood."

She sighed and strode past him, putting up her foil and his. "Anyhow, we better get washed up for dinner. The staff will be preparing your favorite tonight. Broiled steak with Jasmine rice."

He blinked. "From the gardens?"

Y'ssaria grinned. "Of course. Getting it imported would be such a pain."

Leon smiled and took a rag to wipe himself down. "Fantastic. Thank you." He frowned a bit. "Though...I have to wonder, why do you always make my favorites? I mean, don't you have something you'd rather eat?"

She looked at him curiously and tapped her chin a few times. "Well, yeah." A grin. "You."

His eyes widened. "Um...I suppose that makes sense."

"As for why your favorites are always on the menu...it...makes you taste sweeter."

"Ah...I see. Why is that? I just...like sweet food?"

"No, not exactly." Y'ssaria frowned in thought as they made their way to the dining room. "It...has to do with your emotional state. Something I've found over the centuries is that miserable people have miserable-tasting blood."

"But...you said I tasted sweet when we first met, and I was pretty miserable then."

"Hm, that's a fair point." Y'ssaria smiled back at him. "Maybe you're just a sweet person." A laugh. "Actually, no, there's no maybe about it."

Leon held her gaze and blushed before turning back to the steps and muttering a quiet, "Thank you."

...

The next day, they found themselves once again entangled in a furious practice duel. But there was something...different about Leon today. His demeanor, ever since the morning, had been hard and focused; and he'd been a little short with her at breakfast and during his studies. There was definitely something on his mind, yet far from distracting him, it seemed to increase his reactivity and acumen in a fight. Y'ssaria's lips had been turned in a concentrated frown from the start of the match, because he'd been coming at her with everything he had for almost six minutes now and showed no signs of slowing down.

A thrust, a slash, riposte. Everything she'd taught him and more was being thrown right back at her in an endless twist of motion and flow that, to any outsider, might be mistaken for a deadly kind of dance. Y'ssaria had never seen him this intent on anything, and she had to wonder at the sudden shift. Her mind was forced to focus on the present situation when he nearly slipped a lunge past her guard and grazed the tip of his foil over her left shoulder. Y'ssaria's eyes narrowed as she whirled around him and swept her blade for his legs. He leapt over the strike and came down with a falling stab at her neck that was deflected with the finger-guard of her weapon.

Her riposte was a couched thrust at his clavicle she was sure would hit, but her eyes widened when he drew his sword back against his chest hilt-first and used the very back of the blade to shunt it just shy of his neck. As soon as he found his footing again, he lunged forward and grabbed the guard of her foil, her eyes widening when he used all his weight to throw her off-balance. With a small flash of irritation, Y'ssaria kicked his front leg out from under him, forcing him to one knee, and palmed his face with a push that sent him rolling away. She pressed the attack with a series of thrusts that just missed him every time, until one was caught between the floor and his blade.

He used his lower position to kick at her legs, nearly replicating her sweep trick, and following with a rising stab to the chest. She parried and bashed the hilt of her sword into his chin, sending him staggering back a step and scrambling to reestablish his guard. Y'ssaria never gave him the chance, pressing her attack and raining down a torrent of stabs at various locations that he just managed to withdraw from. Amid one of her strikes, he ducked and lunged forward in a crouching stab that whooshed past her gut and left him vulnerable to a knee to the face. Before she could lift her leg, however, his empty arm curled around her midsection and he lunged forward, taking her off her feet and to the ground.

Y'ssaria lifted her foil to fend him off, but he switched hands and used the blade of his own to lock with its finger-guard and pin it to the ground while his other arm pinned hers. Shocked at the outcome, she could only stare up at his focused expression, his hazel green eyes boring into hers intensely.

Leon's lips pursed tightly, a moment of uncertainty passing across his face before he opened his mouth. "You told me not to hesitate."

Before she could reply or even consider what that meant, he leaned down and, trembling with the excitement of their fight and the nerves he'd shown just a moment earlier, firmly pressed his lips against hers. Y'ssaria's eyes widened in shock, and they stayed there for a good ten seconds before he pulled back, his pupils dilated and breath heavy. She could only gape at him until he burned completely red and pushed himself off her prone form.

Y'ssaria blinked rapidly and sat upright, mind and heart racing as she looked him over. Gone was the razor focus and confidence; he looked just like he had the first night in the castle. A good half-minute passed before she finally found her words.

"...Leon?"

He returned a quiet hum as his only response.

"You..." her lips pursed tightly as she carefully considered her response, "I hope you haven't misunderstood me."

Leon blinked and faced her in confusion. "How do you mean?"

The soft vulnerability in his eyes made her stutter for a moment. "All this...these months, your time here...it was never about..." she glanced off to the side, "that. That is, I was never trying to seduce you."

She saw his entire form sag at her words. "Then...I...shouldn't have done that? It was...unwelcome?"

Y'ssaria blinked slowly and held a tense breath as her eyes roved his uncertain features. For the briefest of moments, his birthmark was replaced by a faded scar and his hazel eyes by piercing ice blue. She blinked the apparition away and felt a faint smile tug at her lips. "No. No it wasn't." She took a long breath and stood up, stretching herself out. "But if you feel like you owe me something for your time here, you don't."

Leon gave her a deadpan look as he accepted a hand up. "I know that. You take your fee from me every night before sleep," he added, stroking the two scarred points on his neck from her fangs. "This isn't payment, I..." He looked away, uncertain for a moment longer before some of his previous determination returned. "Y'ssaria, you're the kindest person I've ever known...and possibly the loneliest. Before you, I didn't think there was a place for me in this world. You taught me different, but I also realized that I'm not the only one in this castle who got a raw deal.

"You spend your days stuck on this mountain, isolated from a world that doesn't even try to understand you, with only your servants and the silence to keep you company. However long you've lived, I can't even imagine being alone for that long without going mad."

Y'ssaria smiled. "I do get out you know; visit friends overseas or over borders, even my family from time to time."

Leon's jaw tightened with a frown. "That's not the same and you know it."

The hardness of his tone stopped her in her tracks.

"Those are visits, but your life is here, and it's solitary."

She blinked hard, tone flattening. "Sometimes that's the only way to live."

He took a bold step toward her. "But it doesn't have to be." Leon hesitantly lifted his hand, then gently laid it on her cheek. "I know...I know I'm not an ideal person, and that I have so much more to learn about...everything, but..." he smiled, "I do understand loneliness." He stroked a thumb over her cheek. "And I know you deserve better, Izzy." Leon leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, eyes closed. "We both do."

Y'ssaria's eyes fluttered closed as she took a shuddering breath, feeling his against her lips. An all-consuming warmth started deep in her chest, steadily flowing outward to the tips of her fingers as she felt her hands glide up his sides and settle on his back. Her lips drew closer to his, until she could feel the heat radiating off them.

Her own lips parted, voice coming out as a whisper. "You're damn right we do."

And with that, she threw caution to the wind and locked her lips with his, her tongue pressing against his mouth until he gasped in surprise, permitting her entry. His dearth of experience was immediately apparent when he attempted to reciprocate, and his clumsy but passionate response made her chuckle.

Oh my, she thought with no small amount of glee, I have so much to teach you.

A feral growl came from her throat as her hands shifted from his back to his head, fingers tangling in his neck-length brown hair as she devoured him. Her feeding would be quite different tonight—if he was comfortable with it, that was. With that thought in mind, Y'ssaria drew back and met his fully dilated pupils and dazed expression with an element of uncertainty in her own.

"Leon...how...how far do you want to take this?"

He blinked, eyes sharpening a bit. "You mean...you want to..." he looked away, cheeks blushing even more, "you know..."

Y'ssaria smirked and feigned innocence. "Know what? What should I know?"