Relax

As they emerged from the boutique's blood-stained entrance, Mark and Lucia moved in tandem, their footsteps synchronized as they traversed the pavement. The car's sleek design seemed to gleam in the fading light, its black finish mirroring the darkness that lurked within.

With a swift motion, Mark unlocked the doors, and the vehicle's interior lights flickered to life, casting an eerie glow on the surrounding landscape.

As they slid into their seats, the leather creaking in protest, Lucia's voice cut through the tension, her words laced with a mix of curiosity and trepidation.

"Who's going to...clean up the mess we left behind?" She hesitated, her gaze drifting towards the boutique, where the lifeless bodies of Athaliah's minions still lingered.

Mark's response was swift and assured, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "My Crusaders will handle it. They're trained for this kind of thing. This is not my first rodeo." His tone was matter-of-fact, devoid of emotion, yet Lucia detected a hint of pride lurking beneath the surface.

As the car surged forward, the engine purring smoothly, Lucia felt a wave of relief wash over her. She drew in a deep breath, the air filling her lungs, and let her head fall back against the headrest.

The sunset's warm hues danced across the sky, casting a golden glow over the landscape. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the thrum of the engine and the soft rustle of the wind past the windows.

In this fleeting moment, Lucia allowed herself to relax, her tension easing as the car devoured the distance. The darkness that had haunted her for so long seemed to recede, replaced by a fragile sense of hope.

She closed her eyes, the rhythmic hum of the engine lulling her into a state of uneasy tranquility, as the car sped away from the carnage they had left behind.

As the sun's fiery orb sank below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the landscape, Mark and Lucia's vehicle glided smoothly along the asphalt, the only sounds being the gentle hum of the engine and the soft whoosh of wind past the windows.

Lucia's flickering gaze drifted lazily across the passing scenery, her mind reeling with the tumultuous events of the past few hours. The silence between them was like a living, breathing entity that pulsed with unspoken questions and unvoiced fears.

But then, without warning, Mark's deep voice shattered the stillness, his words hanging in the air like a challenge. "Lucia, I need to ask you something."

His eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, his gaze piercing the darkness that gathered beyond the reach of the headlights.

Lucia's heart skipped a beat as she turned to face him, her voice barely above a whisper. "What is it,wait,let me guess,do you want to know why I stole your car?" she asked, her eyes locked on his profile, the sharp lines and planes of his face illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard.

Mark's glance flicked towards her, his eyes burning with a serious intensity.

"No, I know the demons made you do it.

I just want to ask if any from that incident triggered any flashbacks.You have to at least know something about your lineage and heritage?"

He pressed on, his voice low and urgent. "Anything that might explain why you're so important to the demons, why is a mere human like you being targeted by them?"

Lucia's head shook in a slow, deliberate motion, her eyes clouding with a mix of fear and uncertainty. "No, I still don't know anything," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

"I don't even remember or know who my parents are or if I was raised in foster care.

I only recall my name and that island but nothing about my family history has ever crossed my mind."

Mark's nod was thoughtful, his expression a mask of contemplation. "I see," he murmured, his eyes never leaving the road.

"Well, we'll have to dig deeper then. Because I think your past might be the key to understanding what's going on, and how to keep you safe."

His words trailed off into the silence, leaving Lucia to ponder the weight of his statement, the unspoken promise of secrets waiting to be uncovered.

As the car sped down the highway, Lucia's curiosity got the better of her. She spotted Mark's shotgun lying on the back seat, its barrel gleaming in the faint light. She turned to Mark, her eyes fixed on the weapon. "What kind of weapon is that?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mark hesitated, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "It's just a shotgun," he replied gruffly, his tone dismissive.

But Lucia was not deterred. She leaned forward, her eyes fixed on the weapon. "No, it's not just a shotgun," she said, her voice firm. "I can sense it isn't and I saw you use it on the demons. It's...different."

Mark sighed, his eyes flicking towards her. "Fine," he said, his voice resigned. "It's an ancient weapon, wielded by the host of Death. The human avatar of the Pale Horseman."

Lucia's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. "The Pale Horseman?" she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mark nodded, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Yes. The weapon symbolizes the horse of the Death rider. And it's the only tool that can utterly destroy demons."

Lucia's hand stretched out, her fingers reaching for the weapon. But Mark's warning was swift. "Don't touch it," he said, his voice firm. "The weapon has a mind of its own. It's...temperamental."

Lucia's hand hesitated, her eyes fixed on the weapon. "What's its name?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Mark's eyes flicked towards her, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "It's nicknamed the Soul Blade," he said, his voice low and mysterious.

Lucia's eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. The Soul Blade. She felt a shiver run down her spine, her heart racing with excitement. She knew that she had to learn more about this ancient weapon, and the power it wielded.