Sigbin

At the sight of Yara's tears, Lucius's instincts as a protector immediately took precedence over the passion of the moment. The transition from a figure of strength and desire to one of care and concern was swift, his actions guided by an ingrained sense of honor and empathy. He gently offered her the upper sheet to cover herself, his demeanor shifting to one of gentle reassurance.

"Have I gone too far?" Lucius asked, his voice soft, filled with concern. The intensity of their encounter had masked the deeper, unspoken motivations that had driven Yara to this moment. "You don't have to do anything you're not ready for," he assured her, prepared to retreat, to respect her boundaries and her vulnerability.

Yara, her tears a silent testament to the turmoil within, looked at Lucius, seeing not just a sellsword but a person capable of understanding, of listening. "This is my first time," she confessed, her voice a whisper of fear and courage intertwined. "I... I didn't plan for this to happen. Not like this." Her admission was a window into her internal struggle, revealing a depth of emotion and uncertainty that went beyond the physical.

She continued, her words halting but determined, "I wasn't just drawn to you by the moment or your... presence. I have a reason, something I need, something only someone like you can help me with." The confession hung between them, a stark shift from the path their evening had seemed destined to take.

Lucius listened, the fabric of their connection changing with Yara's words. Here was a woman, seemingly bold and seductive, who carried her own burdens, her own desperate need for help that had driven her to consider sacrificing a part of herself. It was a reminder of the complexities and hidden struggles that every individual faced, often obscured behind facades constructed for survival or to fulfill a deeply personal quest.

Yara's voice was heavy with emotion as she revealed her reason for approaching Lucius. "My little brother has been missing for over a year now. I told everyone in the village what happened, but no one believes me," she began, her eyes searching Lucius's for a glimmer of understanding, of belief. "He was taken by a creature, something that looked like a kangaroo but... it was horrifying, not of this world."

The skepticism and disbelief of her fellow villagers had left her isolated, her claims dismissed as the desperate fabrications of a grieving sister. "They think I'm lying, making up stories. They say it was our mother who took him, but she's been missing just as long," Yara continued, her frustration and despair evident in her tone. The dual disappearance of her family members had thrust her into a nightmare, one where her pleas for help were met with cold indifference.

Lucius listened intently, his experience as a sellsword having exposed him to the myriad mysteries and dangers that lurked in the shadows of the world. Creatures of legend and nightmare were more real to him than to most, and the possibility of a creature unknown to the villagers capturing Yara's brother was not beyond belief.

The notion that the villagers would rather blame a missing mother than entertain the existence of a monstrous creature spoke volumes about the human tendency to dismiss what they couldn't understand. For Yara, it meant facing not only the pain of loss but the burden of disbelief, her story turned into fodder for gossip rather than a call to action.

Lucius, moved by Yara's plight, saw in her request not just a mission but a chance to right a wrong, to offer hope where there was none. "I've encountered many strange and dangerous beings in my travels," he said, his voice firm with conviction. "What you're describing doesn't sound impossible. Tell me everything you remember about that night, and I'll do everything in my power to find out what happened to your brother."

Yara leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper, as if the very walls might recoil at the tale she was about to tell. "It was late, just past midnight when it happened. I heard a noise outside, like a rustling... but heavier, more deliberate. I peeked through the window and saw... it. The creature was unlike anything I've ever seen," she recounted, her eyes reflecting the horror of that night.

"It was dark, almost shadow-like, but its shape was distinct. It walked on its hind legs at times, but it could also leap, like a kangaroo, covering great distances in a single bound. Its ears were long, almost bat-like, and it had this... this tail, thick and powerful. The most terrifying part was its eyes, glowing in the dark, and its mouth, which seemed too large for its body, filled with sharp teeth."

Lucius listened intently, nodding as the details painted a familiar picture in his mind. "A Sigbin," he said confidently, seeing the recognition in Yara's eyes turn to surprise. "What you're describing matches the legends of the Sigbin. It's a creature of Philippine mythology, known to roam at night. They say it sucks the blood of its victims and is attracted to the scent of children, which could explain your brother's disappearance."

The Sigbin was said to be a nocturnal creature, elusive and terrifying, often described as having a long, flexible body that could move swiftly in the darkness. Its ability to become invisible or to walk backward with its head lowered between its hind legs made it a challenging creature to track, contributing to its fearsome reputation.

Yara's amazement at Lucius's quick identification of the creature and his immediate belief in her story was evident. It was a stark contrast to the skepticism she had faced from her own people. "You really believe me... and you know what it is," she said, a mix of relief and newfound hope coloring her words.