Siren's Kiss

71: Bleeding the Leech Part Three

Light streamed through the narrow windows, casting a harsh interplay of light and shadow across the room. Aurelius opened his eyes, quickly realizing he was in a dungeon, bound and stretched out on a rack—not a fitting position for a man of his rank.

"Well, well... the High Sentinel be finally awake!"

Standing before him, grinning, was a massive pirate with a thick build and dark skin. His signature dreadlocks marked him instantly—this was Sixto, the fugitive. Sixto wasn't a captain, nor was he loyal to any crew. Known for betraying captains and slaughtering entire crews, he was notorious for his vicious independence. He didn't seek treasure or the mysteries of the sea; his ambitions were blood and chaos. It was a lethal blend that made him feared by even the most ruthless pirates—few dared cross his path.

Aurelius knew that Sixto's violent reputation kept him confined to the West Sea, a region avoided by most reputable pirates, especially the likes of Captain Drake, Ladyqueen, and Hawk. It wasn't so much a matter of territory, he thought, but rather that the Deadly Trio simply didn't consider Sixto worth their attention. For them, he was a minor threat—a predator too unrestrained and brutish, lacking the ambition or finesse to truly matter in their world.

A pirate who killed his own kind was the black sheep of the seas—if not outright shunned, he was treated as a ghost. Sixto was painfully aware of his status among the Deadly Trio. He knew he'd never reach their level; he couldn't tolerate a crew or follow orders, and he'd never earn the title of captain—a title granted only by the Seven Seas itself. There was something almost sacred in that title, a mystique that ran deeper than mere authority, carrying a magic only pirates truly understood. It was much like how the templars revered their Grandmasters and their High Sentinel.

Before him stood the most revered and formidable templar in all the Seven Seas—High Sentinel Aurelius Stormwarden. Sixto had heard many stories about him, though most seemed too far-fetched to believe. Here was a man who had roamed the Seven Seas for years, rumored to have witnessed the death of their Creator—if Nerevarus had truly perished, that is. Sixto wasn't quick to dismiss such tales, yet he was no devout believer either. Most pirates harbored a deep resentment for the gods, their endless lives, and their relentless games. To the immortals, every world seemed a mere playground to exploit and ruin at whim, and the Seven Seas was no exception.

"Good day to ye, me liege..." Sixto taunted, his grin stretching wider as he moved closer to the bound templar. "Surprised to be seein' me, aren't ye?"

Aurelius's face remained calm, a mask of unyielding composure. If he felt any trace of fear, he concealed it well. His mind, however, turned to Isadora and the pampered regalia, and he couldn't help but wonder: if Sixto and his band had managed to infiltrate Sanctum Aeternum, how had he subdued an entire legion of Templar Knights? Was this brute working alone, or had some treachery within their walls opened the way?

Suddenly, it hit him—a dark, unwelcome certainty that he'd tried to ignore for so long: treachery. The thought of betrayal had gnawed at him before, but Aurelius had dismissed it as improbable, even paranoid. But now, bound and faced with Sixto's mocking gaze, the possibility loomed large. Could Lucius have truly aligned himself with someone as vile as Sixto to achieve his aims?

The thought burned, but he knew well the lines between templars and pirates, hardened by his own past. Becoming High Sentinel had demanded that he turn his back on his oldest friend—a choice that haunted him and, perhaps, had cost him the gift of sight, a consequence of loyalty severed and the weight of sanctity claimed. But aligning with pirates? That was a line he'd believed no templar would cross, least of all someone like Lucius.

"Speechless, are we now?" Sixto taunted, his voice laced with dark amusement as he prowled around Aurelius like a predator savoring the moment before the kill. His grin stretched wider, his eyes alight with a twisted glee that made Aurelius's skin crawl.