Flashback
Lucius had been just a boy when he caught a bundle of rabbits, carrying them back proudly to the village. The adults whispered amongst themselves as they saw him approach.
"They say Lucius has falcon's eyes—once he's locked onto a target, he never misses," one of the older villagers murmured.
The memory was still fresh, back when those words were a source of pride. But now, they were a reminder of everything that was stolen from him.
Present
Lucius crouched on the rocky ledge, overlooking the village in ruins. From his vantage point, he could see the pirates, unaware of the danger looming above. His heart raced, but his mind remained clear, calculating. His fingers gripped the bow tightly as his eyes locked onto a pirate below, a burly man stomping through the village with a bloodstained sword resting on his shoulder.
Lucius pulled the bowstring back, feeling the tension as he ignited the resin-coated shaft. The flame flickered for a moment before stabilizing. This wasn't just a hunt. This was vengeance.
The pirate moved, clueless to the silent death aimed at him. Lucius aimed carefully, his fingers twitching slightly. The makeshift bomb, tied tightly in the middle of the arrow, glowed faintly from the flame, ready to explode on impact.
He let the arrow fly.
It cut through the air, swift and silent, the flame trailing behind it like a beacon of destruction. It struck the pirate in the neck—not the arrowhead, but the makeshift bomb tied at the center of the shaft.
The explosion was instant.
The bomb detonated with a deafening blast, sending shrapnel, resin, and fire in every direction. The pirate screamed, his hand flying to his neck, but the damage had already been done. Blood sprayed as the makeshift bomb tore through flesh, and the poison-laced thorn buried itself deep in his skin. The venom worked quickly, his veins turning a sickening purple as it spread through his body.
The other pirates turned in shock as the man staggered, his face twisted in agony. His eyes bulged as he collapsed, his limbs jerking uncontrollably as the venom overtook him. His screams were drowned by the gurgling sound of blood filling his throat, his body contorting in pain.
Lucius watched from above, his heart pounding in his chest, but his face was emotionless. This was just the start. One pirate down. Many more to go.
His eyes narrowed, focusing on the next target.
He spotted another pirate, this one taller, with a nasty scar running across his bald head. The man barked orders, unaware of the creeping doom that loomed in the trees. Lucius didn't hesitate. His eyes locked onto the pirate, just like the villagers had once said—falcon's eyes, never missing their mark.
The arrow sailed silently through the air.
BOOM!
The explosion ripped through the pirate's chest, the shrapnel tearing flesh and igniting his clothes. He screamed, stumbling backward, his voice quickly drowned by the fire consuming him. The other pirates whipped their heads around, but they still couldn't see the source of the attack. All they saw were their comrades collapsing, engulfed in flames, their bodies writhing in agony as the poison did its work.
Lucius smirked, his breath coming in shallow, determined bursts. They had no idea where he was. He was a ghost in the trees, striking from the shadows. Another arrow. Another target.
BOOM!
This time, two pirates went down together, caught in the same explosion. One had barely begun to scream before the venom overtook him, his veins swelling black and purple as his body convulsed. The other, still burning, tried to crawl away, his face twisted in terror as his legs gave out beneath him.
Lucius watched, unmoved. This wasn't killing for sport. This was justice. His justice. The pirates had torn everything from him—now, he would tear them apart.
One by one, they fell, each death more gruesome than the last. Lucius could hear their panicked cries, their frantic orders, but none of it mattered. He was relentless, like a hawk circling its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
In his mind, there was no remorse. No mercy.
These men had killed his mother. They had slaughtered his village. They had turned his life into a nightmare.
And now, he was returning the favor.
Lucius stood at the edge of the forest, his bow gripped tightly in his hand, surveying the village below. The air was thick with smoke, the smell of burning wood and flesh mixing into an unbearable stench. His heart thudded in his chest, the adrenaline from the hunt beginning to fade.
The pirates were dead. They had to be. No one was moving. No screams. No sounds but the crackling of embers.
Lucius slowly descended from his vantage point, stepping cautiously over the scattered debris. His eyes darted from one body to the next, searching for any sign of life, but all he found was death. Pirate corpses littered the village, charred beyond recognition, twisted in grotesque shapes from the explosions and venom coursing through their veins.
But it wasn't just the pirates.
Lucius felt his stomach turn as he took in the full extent of the destruction. His village—his home—was nothing more than a massacre. Blood stained the ground, the walls, even the sky seemed painted in it. Bodies of villagers, people he had known his entire life, lay scattered like broken dolls. Some had fallen trying to defend their homes, others caught in the chaos, but none had been spared.
Even the children.
His breath hitched in his throat as he stepped over the tiny form of a girl no older than six, her eyes wide open, staring lifelessly into the sky. Her small body, once full of life, was now just another piece of the horror that had consumed everything.
He clenched his fists, feeling a wave of nausea wash over him, but forced himself to keep walking. He couldn't stop. Not now. Not when the memories of this place still clung to him, the laughter, the joy that had once filled these streets.
With each step, his mind replayed flashes of the past. He saw the children laughing, running through the village square. He saw the old man who used to give him sweets when he passed by. He saw the fisherman hauling in the day's catch, smiling proudly. And he saw his mother, standing at the door of their small home, waving at him with that warm, gentle smile.
But then the images began to fade, like sand slipping through his fingers.
"No..." Lucius whispered, reaching out as if he could grab hold of those memories, as if he could pull them back. "No…"
The village faded into dust. The laughter dissolved into silence.
And in that moment, everything crumbled before his eyes.
CRACK.
Lucius barely had time to react before a boot slammed into his chest, sending him flying backwards. The air rushed from his lungs as he crashed into the dirt, tumbling violently. Pain shot through his ribs, but he forced himself to look up, gasping for air.
His eyes widened in shock as he saw the figure step forward. One of the pirates was still alive, towering above him. He was a scarred and dirty man with a smirk plastered on his face. Dark, greasy hair hung into his eyes, and his crooked, yellow teeth glinted in the firelight. A tattered brown coat draped over his broad shoulders, and strapped to his back was a massive sword that looked almost as filthy as its owner. His boots crunched against the dirt as he strode through the wreckage, casually looking around for more things to steal, as if Lucius were nothing more than another obstacle in his path.
"You thought it was over, boy?" the pirate growled, his voice like gravel. "You thought you killed us all?"
Lucius coughed, trying to stand, but the pain in his chest made it difficult. He staggered to his feet, eyes burning with fury. His hand instinctively reached for his dagger while his gaze flicked to his bow lying in the dirt, just out of reach. He had been careless. He had let his guard down.
But he wasn't finished yet.
The pirate smirked wider, that dirty grin twisting his face further. "Name's Jasper. Too bad you'll be dead before you get to know me better."