Hours seem to pass whilst Romulus ponders a multitude of things. He’d thought about his stead, hoping he was okay since he’d be away longer than he’d anticipated. 

He has tried to untangle the knot but it was immutable. He curses the stupid ginger for being so thorough. The knot tied around the pillar was undisturbed, even after using his weight as leverage. Nothing budges.

Romulus tsks, the room reverberating the sound back at him as if to spit his failure in his face. He sunk back against the column in defeat, his arm waning from the pain of the fall earlier. How is he going to kill that man from down there? Not that could even if the blood fiend was standing in front of him. Not to mention that even if Varian did come to speak with him again it wouldn’t be until the next night. Or at least that’s what the ginger insinuated. 

It wasn’t like this was the worst position he’d ever been in of course but it still boils his blood to be in the confines belonging to one he despised. It reminds him of when he first met Kane, he was the one who gave Romulus the blood fiends name in the first place.

That night reignited his drive to find his brother’s murderer.

Rain danced along the brick roads with the moonlight that shone through the clouds. It was another night with his stead by his side. He was tired and weary after traveling to find himself. The world felt as though it had abandoned him, leaving him with just his stead for comfort. 

They huddled underneath a leaky roof that night, just along the outskirts of the dreary town. The cottage lacked any semblance of life, there was no flooring either as if it had never finished being built. The moon was just barely visible through the holes within the shingles above him as he let himself lay down against the barren floor. Hay and rocks pricking his back uncomfortably. 

His stead, Domino, knelt down curling his hooves underneath his abdomen. Romulus shifted to pet Domino’s muzzle, a paper buried underneath dirt catching his attention. 

Romulus dusted the paper off, his curiosity getting the best of him. It had a crude drawing of a man that he instantly recognized. It had been seven years since he’d seen it, but the face never faded from his memories. Nor did the scar that was cemented on his own face.

Anger filled his veins like a fierce fire as if it had never left all those years ago.

The paper was clearly aged, the edges tattered and torn. Some dirt permanently stained the page, it was heavily creased like it were discarded without any discretion. The words that were scrolled at the bottom asking “Have you seen this Face?” followed by an address that had been smeared, remaining barely legible.

“Domino,” he spoke softly with a tremble in his voice as the page crinkled in his tight fist. He looked at his stead, his eyelids were already closed in a soft slumber. Romulus placed a hand on his muzzle gently, “I’ll be back.” He picked himself up from the ground, dirt crunching underneath him.

Romulus took out some food for Domino from his bag, leaving it near in case he got hungry whilst Romulus was away.

It felt strange to leave his stead alone, even if only for a few hours at most. The address wasn’t too far, but who knew how old the flyer was. The person who made it might not even be there anymore. 

It was a chance he was willing to take, the address was only an hour or so from where he was now. 

He picked up his satchel from the ground and dusted the dirt from it. If there was a chance someone knew anything about that man other than fanciful tales, he had to take it.

Romulus made sure his hood was up, the rain was starting to pour at that point. He’d have to be quick if he wanted as clear of a path as possible.

He trudged through the silent town, his boots splashing in the puddles gathering in the streets. He kept his guard up as he waded through the street, his hood billowing with the winds constant thrashing with the rain. 

Romulus kept referencing the sheet, now drenched in his hands. He himself was sopping wet and shivering. He was so close to the location, it was just around the corner now if he remembered correctly.

His gaze landed on the small unassuming structure. It looked just like the rest in the town, abandoned and broken. It was a long shot that anything promising would be there. But maybe, just maybe the person had left something behind.

It was the first time any sign of that face had reappeared in his life, even if unlikely he clung to the hope.

Romulus approached the door, it hinges creaking open at the faintest touch of his hand. The entrance was dark, almost pitch black. He rustled through his satchel to grab a match from within, faintly illuminated the room to bring his attention to a candle sitting on a mantle just beside the flimsy door.

A candle worked much better than his tiny match, his eyes searched the main room as he stepped deeper within. There were papers strewn across it, whoever had lived here clearly wasn’t the type for a pristine home. Another copy of the flyer laid among the strewn papers but before he could investigate more, the familiar sound of the weak hinges slammed. 

His candle blew out in an instant.

His breath grew frantic as he searched the darkness with his eyes. It was fruitless, his eyes weren’t accustomed to the dark. Before he knew it, he was shoved to the ground with his arm twisted against his back. A pained grunt escaped his throat while his face scratched against the wood grain of the floor.

A small light of a flame flickered, illuminating a scarred face. This figure towered over him while the other he couldn’t see clutched his arm roughly behind his back.

“Barging into someone’s home isn’t very polite,” The scarred face was taut with rage flitting in his eyes, his mouth in a tight frown.

Romulus tried to move, however the grip of the person holding him got more fervent as a result.

The scarred man chuckled, “Squirming won’t help you here.” His gaze shifted from Romulus to the person restraining him, “Give me his bag would you?”

 Rather effortlessly, his satchel was taken from him and tossed to the man. The man peered inside the bag, hands combing through any and everything in it until he retracted the flyer. He dropped the bag to the floor and knelt before meeting Romulus’s gaze once more.

“Is this why you’re here?” He shoved the flyer in front of Romulus’s face. Through clenched teeth, he nodded. The man’s scarred face twisted into that of a smirk exposing his fangs that glinted in the orange hue of the light. “Let him go,” his eyes flicked up to the man restraining Romulus.

The man's grip loosened before completely letting go of his arm. Romulus pushed himself up with his wrists. 

“How do you know the Blood Fiend?” Romulus asked with choked words.

The man merely chuckled, “So you know he’s the Blood Fiend. Funny, not many know what he looks like.” He held a hand out to Romulus, “Seems like we could be of help to one another boy.”

Romulus glanced up at the scarred face and to his hand. He was hesitant to take it, if the man’s appearance was anything to go by, the man made his stomach churn with unease. The belittling nature in which the scarred man called him a boy wasn't something he was fond of either. He let out a soft sigh before grasping the hand and pulling himself fully off the ground.

“You may call me Kane, I’ve been waiting a long time for anything to come of this flyer. Why are you looking for him?” Romulus got a better view of him now, short blonde hair framed his face with purple eyes that contrasted the orange hue of the flame.

Romulus tried to search Kane’s face for a hint of anything that could rub him the wrong way. He came up with nothing. “A long time ago, he harmed someone I cared for.” He wanted to make his intent clear, his brows furrowed as his eyes darkened, “I want him to feel the pain I had to.”

Silence lingered in the room, had Romulus been too forthcoming?

A burst of laughter resounded in Romulus’s ears, “You certainly don’t beat around the bush kid.” Romulus’s face remained the same and unwavering. “I think I can help you with that goal. If you’re going to find him though, you should know his actual name.”

Romulus’s eyes widened, “You- how do you know his name?”

“I’ve been around for quite a while. I assure you, I have my ways.”