The wish was granted, and she had her sword, the blade that she would wield for her vengeance. Nanahara Fumito was dead, nothing but dust in the winds.
And in return, Saya would be forever alone.
. . . in this world, that was.
The dim light of the room glinted off the man's long, silver hair as he lowered his head in a mockery of a bow. Curled locks like pale moonlight fell from his shoulders, unable to resist the pull of gravity, and between the silver strands his gold eyes shone with adoring interest at his newfound subject, brought to his attention by chance and circumstance.
No coincidence, but set forth by events from such a long time ago it may well have been so because no one expected to find the traitorous blood of Lilith wandering around in the Arctic, lost and hungry but still so extraordinarily strong and capable of defending herself from any and all threats she ran into.
"I must say," he said, almost singing his words, ecstatic at what he had found. "It is an honor to meet the famed cannibal, the first traitor, in person at long last."
Saya met his gaze, and though her hand wasn't on her sword she could feel the extension of her arms, her power thrumming under her skin. She could swing the blade towards his head or heart, she could crush him. It would be a fight that offered her a challenge, no doubt about it, but she could.
He wore the appearance of a human – an inhumanely beautiful one at that – but he was no human and did not fall under the protection of the vow she was bound to.
Elder Bairn. Demon. Vampire.
The name and the classification did not matter, in the end. He was inhuman. His status as a king did nothing to protect him. Not when she was a queen, a goddess, one that stood above all – and an outlier. Rules others of her kind, or at least those similar to her followed could not bind her. Saya was bound only by her rules, her oath.
Those above controlled those below and there was no one above her, she who stood as the pinnacle of the predators roaming the night.
His eyes curved into delighted crescents and his gloved fingers played with the corner of his pale lips, as if he tried in vain to hide his smile.
"Oh, my lady," he whispered, caught up in his lunacy as he saw her for what she was, what she could do. What she could be. "You are magnificent, indeed."
Used, again. As she always was.
But Saya had need of him, in the end, while she wandered and stumbled and tried to figure things out as he had need of her.
And so the night Saya met Karlheinz, they spoke till long after the sun had broken the canopy of darkness, and at last made a deal.