339 The Blood Ruin

A strong sense of dread filled Arran as he looked at the pale woman before him.

As far as his Sense was concerned, she was nothing but a commoner. And yet, even ignoring her strange appearance, he knew at once that she was terrifyingly powerful.

He subconsciously took two steps backward before stopping himself — whatever she was, running would do little to help him, and it might risk offending her.

Yet while Arran's gaze was fearful, the woman's expression was one of curiosity.

"You bear the legacy of Mardek," she said. "But it's twisted with the power of Narzhan's blood. What are you?"

His fear momentarily forgotten, Arran stared at her in bewilderment. Neither of the names meant anything to him, yet the woman seemed to think he was somehow connected to these people — if that was what they were.

Either way, he could not let the misunderstanding remain. If the woman thought he tried to deceive her, no good would come of it.