Crow paused with the door handle still in his hand, perhaps because he was curious to what she wished to say. However the pause wasn’t very long when he eventually walks on. He couldn’t or wouldn’t hear anymore of her at this moment. Too much that had happened in that room made him leave. No turn of his head, no moment to wait if she would follow. He walked on to the docks, simply because he himself knew that even if he had stopped, turned there was nothing he could have done differently. Her proposal was absurd and something he wouldn’t ever accept, no woman would play that part in his life. In his own mind he had already been too kind.
Crow knew that most women that even dared to touch him, would have at least the back of his hand on their cheeks for several days. His personal space was almost sacred and she had invaded it. Not even his slaves dared without his approval come that near. That space was there for a very good reason, a reason that held much from his past. His father had taught him young that when one was in that space your life could be hanging on a thin thread. Perhaps he had been too surprised, aware of her weakness by her recovery, or had given in for his own selfish need to taste her lips. The last something most read as his “way with women”.
Crow knew that in his training he had been regarded as the fellow that had that natural charm. They teased him with his shaggability and he had carried it with him through his entire training. When he had become that Assassin he still used the charm to get where he wanted. He had even killed a woman after giving her pleasure. Slaves adored him, for his patience in training. Yet he had never given them what they were after. Even the Peacock couldn’t get it and he knew that it had become what she most desired. His heart had been broken and never healed. She had spoken of care for him and it troubled him, since a part of him wished to be gentle with her. Perhaps tell her that he cared too. But it would be a lie.
Crow couldn’t care for her, let alone for any woman. That same care would be turned if Gold was paid. Not his care would stop from doing what he had been trained to do. Crow was for most certain no lair. He was a talented artist if it came to portraying that he did. He even made his slave Sparrow believe he loved her, while in fact he hadn’t. The only woman he perhaps cared for was safe in the bounds of another, who he respected. It was the only woman that knew him – perhaps – better than he knew himself.
Crow glanced behind him to see that the new acquired slave heeled him. In his eyes no longer the warmth but the sharpness to see if she complied well enough. The slave, one he knew well, had submitted to him after her former owner had abandoned her. The killer had perhaps been lost in action, still on his task and unaware of the girl. He could have killed her when she crossed her wrists, but hadn’t. He however not really in need of a slave at that point had only seen the waste if he had done so.
Crow had to wait on the captain when he moved upon the dock to depart again. The man had been paid well and had seen him come. “You wish to depart, Killer ?” he had asked. Crow had given him the position of where he wished to go and ordered his girl to find a spot below deck to warm herself. “As you wish, Killer.” The man haste to say and urged his crew to prepare to leave. Dyval wasn’t a place for killers, Crow thought. There was no reason to remain – the things that had to happen had done so. The Innkeeper was paid, the physician would find more than enough in the pouch he had left behind. What was left after that was enough for anyone to start anew.
Crow wasn’t a liar, wasn’t greedy, wasn’t capable of caring or love. Crow was just and alone that killer, that Assassin that could turn like a leaf: One moment charming and sophisticated while in the next sharp and alert on the ready to slit the throat of the one he had made feel safe in his presence. Perhaps there was the orthodox, since wasn’t it just as much a lie to portray yourself something you weren’t ? Crow remembered the words of one of the older killers. “When gold is exchanged only our caste codes are in place. No city law matters, the kill must be made.”
[11:50] Melchior Wardell arched a brow when the man he had sent to bring his slave stopped him before he could continue his way to the infirmery. The man, some might consider him a mute, didn’t speak but simply held out his hand to collect the coin he had been promised. Perhaps some would consider it odd that he – a killer – had paid such coin for a mere beast. But for some reason Crow rather wished to be served by his own slave. Careful or suspicious because of the looks the Innkeeper had given him. “Tal mine.” he stated while he waited for her to greet him in the way he had taught her.
[11:53] Vivianna didn’t care that it was snowy, she knew her lips belonged on the leather of his boot. He’d hear the crunch of snow as she dropped to her knees and pressed her lips. “Tal my Master.” She says, rubbing her cheek along the cold leather of his boot. “I’ve seen to all the little details back home.” She told him this so he’d know his tent was in fine order, and waiting on his return. She’d stay on her knees in the cold, until he told her she could rise, even though she felt the snow creeping through. “And yer looking so handsome today, my Master!” She couldn’t resist adding just before she pressed another kiss to his leg.
[11:56] Melchior Wardell looked down while she showed him how she belonged to him and then simply snapped his fingers with the signal for her to rise. She – although a slave – was of value and he didn’t want to bother himself with more trips to an infirmary. “Heel.” he simply stated to her giving her a glance as to silence her. He turned to the man had paid the coin that was promised. “You came quickly – seems I should speak with that captain you have as a comrade.” he said towards the man. The man shrugged and headed off perhaps to afraid to be seen with a killer in these parts.
[11:57] Vivianna laid one last kiss on her owners boot before she hopped up at his snap. She fell in silently behind him, ready to follow his every step. Her normal way was to babble along and entertain him with her stories… But his look silenced her, and so she stood, ready to heel.
[12:01] Melchior Wardell pushed the – familair – door open and instantly his keen eyes scan the room to see what was happening inside. As ever he was cautious to enter any building and up in these parts he was always more weary. There wasn’t much respect to his caste, although he doubted there was truly that in any part of Gor. He was one of the most hated castes and although he perhaps carried it proudly he wasn’t one that would flaunt it.
[12:04] Vivianna stepped in quietly behind her owner. Already the warmth of being indoors and out of the snow was making her feel better. She stayed silent, never one to greet unless her Master said she might. She leaned over though, and peered over Crow’s shoulder to study the woman….
[12:09] Yurei was beginning to rouse from the fitful slumber that the sedative afforded her. She had discovered for what might be the first time in ages an opportunity for respite. As Crow and his slave entered, she rested on her side and his arrival stirred her awake. Her vision was blurry at first as she attempted to discern who had entered, but the musky scent of old blood and sweet lingered in her nostrils and she shifted onto the edge of the cot while her hands rubbed at her eyes as she attempted to battle her drowsiness. “Crow is that you?”
[12:13] Melchior Wardell spied no physician inside but noted The Peacock before she even spoke. He pointed to his slave as to signal her that she was needed “Mine see to some tea of some sorts.” he demanded as if there was a good reason for it – while in fact it was merely to pose himself once again as the harsh killer he wished to be. “Seems the physican isn’t here.” he gave as a reason. He turns to The Peacock “Yes it is me.” he replied while he stepped closer “I see you are awake.” he turns to see if his slave would do his bidding “You know why I was summoned ?” he asks her while he took time to study her and to see that her recovery had been far more than he had
[12:14] Vivianna gave only a quickly spoken “Yes, my Master.” as she hurried off and began the process of putting the tea together. They’d hear little clangs and water as she organised the boiling put, set out the leaves… She was sneaking glances at the woman in the bed as she worked….
[12:24] Yurei continued rubbing her eyes as she listened to the clanging of pots and various other items inundate her ears as Vivianna proceeded to make tea for either her or the both of them. Her gorgginess abated to a manageable where she was able to comprehend better and the first thing she did was peer around the looming figure of the assassin to regard the brunette. She felt something in her chest but couldn’t explain the feeling; however it was sharp and unpleasant and she attempted her best to conceal it, “The physicians wants to know what you want to do with me.” She stated tonelessly as her eyes returned to his; but unlike their prior meetings, there was the absence of bitterness and rage. There was something more heartfelt, warm as her eyes revealed the new series of sensations and feelings that she usually suppressed or quelled. “Whatever you decide… I’ll try… to comply.”
[12:28] Melchior Wardell arched his brow in surprise, no mask, simply surprised by the words she spoke and the expression she held on her features. He reached out to her cheek with his hand to brush it – perhaps to attempt to turn it slightly to see if the wounds he had seen there previously were healed or a tender caress to show that he was pleased with the recovery. “I see.” he stated as if it held already an answer. “And you will try to comply ?” he asks. He had followed her gaze but as a man could only guess to her reasons for looking at his slave in the way she had done. It held no meaning to him for now. He was tempted to ask further about the physician but held still as he wished to hear the answer to the question he had posed.
[12:31] Vivianna strained two cups of tea… She was asked to make tea, so she assumed it was for both of them. As it was cold outside, she was making the tea a little strong, and she asked “Will my Master or the Mistress take milk or suger in the tea?” It made more sens to get it all done at the little kitchen, versus some flowery city arrangement where one carts trays all over the place…
[12:42] Yurei leaned her head gently against his callused palm like she did prior in the longhall during the summer. She turned her face towards his palm and planted a light kiss. It was not one that a kajira or bondmaid would utilize to seduce a man. It was not even something that a high caste woman would use to manipulate a man into getting what she wanted. The illness had seemed to changed her as well as the parade of dreams which offered her different perspectives about her past. Her lashes fluttered over her cheekbones as her tears threatened to descend and indeed they did… she was being honest with the proverbial black bird for the first time, “Yes, I will.” She stated feebly with a voice that was filled with genuine emotion bordering a sob and suddenly her eyes opened to allow her amber hues to encounter his own green eyes, “I think I finally understand what the diviner was talking about all those years ago.” She reached up to grasp his hand and gave it a reflexive, affectionate squeeze, “I think this is mean
[12:42] Yurei: t to be, whatever this is.” She glimpsed over towards Vivianna and smiled as she wiped at her face with the back of her opposite hand, “Milk and sugar, girl.”
[12:47] Melchior Wardell had simply shook his head at the milk or sugar and held his attention to The Peacock. He canted his head a little as if to give himself a different perspective upon the face of her. For a reason he was bothered with the fact there were no sharp words, no snipe remarks but a gentle kiss and the affectionate gestures and squeeze. “What do you understand, Peacock ?” he asks her while his eyes grew sharper to look into hers. Perhaps in this idle attempt to see atleast some of the bitterness that always had fitted her. With the words she spoke he had instantly a thousand other questions, since what was said made so little sense to him. Yet he hadn’t forgotten the feeling when he had first followed that unknown voice that had beackoned him to eventually find her – nearly dead. Crow was known for his organized thinking. A man that could pull open drawers to find what he had stored there at will and close them if they weren’t needed. Now he simply heard voices that weren’t his own. Voices of his mentors ? (c)
[12:48] Melchior Wardell couldn’t help that in his eyes a glimpse of his confussion would be. What would he do now ? What answers ? What challange ?
[12:50] Vivianna nodded and said “Yes, Mistress.” and added the milk and suger to the tea. She caught Crow’s head shake, so left his tea as it was. She picked his up first and carried it over to him. She said quietly by his side, so as to not disturb “Your tea, my Master.” She’d take the Mistress her tea in a moment, but for just now, her eyes were locked on her owner. She could not help the little smile that tugged at her lips when she looked at him, as he -always- made her heart race.
[13:03] Yurei hadn’t released his hand but could most definitely feel the confusion that seemed to water down the blood pumping through his veins. Whatever treacherous expression or countenance that seemed to sustain her had dwindled down to this moment, “You yuan wu fen… fate without destiny. That has been the entirety of my life so it seems. I have come to comprehend that I cannot control what is out of my hands and that was why I was eating bitterness for so many years. I’m not perfect and there will be moments where the bitterness will resume.” She shifted her gaze briefly to Vivianna and contemplated her, curious about her thoughts on such profound matters before focusing back on Crow, “Neither can you… you are destined to be what you are, but are not fated to be of stone… like me.” She seemed to continue with the mystical saying and in a manner they made sense. “In my dreams… I saw what you were. I don’t know how, but the gods have shown me why we are what we are. The diviner from my childhood revealed a
[13:03] Yurei: man who assumed the symbol of the crow, who’s path was similar to mine.” She gazed pointedly at Crow at again though her expression was unreadable, “You and I are the same Crow. This is why I cannot be bitter around you or towards you anymore.”
[13:10] Melchior Wardell took the cup from his girl and gave her a signal to continue her serve with the lady. He listens to the Peacock and although her words might have seem odd to others, they weren’t to him. Hadn’t he himself had similar thoughts as to how much they were alike. “We spoke once about men and women. We spoke in ways they were different. You spoke of women of bone and men of clay – and yet here you are telling me we are alike ?” he now watched her intently and held that pause in silence – as if he wished to hear what the voices in his own head were telling, but none seemed to speak in words he could understand. “If there is such thing as destiny what would it say now – Peacock. You and I know that in the world we live – beauty is with a price.” he started to pace “You know that if the Physician would ask me what to do with you – I wouldn’t quite know what to answer him. What are you truly – A freewoman that must hide this revelation ? – A slave I would sell to a slaver that could really exploit the beauty (c)
[13:15] Vivianna inched back over to the counter and picked up the second cup of tea. She carried it over to the woman and knelt down properly to hand her her tea. She wasn’t one for kneeling as she was of northern stock, but she was always careful to please her owner, and she would cause no offense by not kneeling as the woman might expect. Holding the cup up to her she says simply “Tea, Mistress. Milk and sugar.” She tried to think of what else she could say, as the ladies seemed to like it flowery… Vivi was a man’s slut through and through, so she struggled a bit when it came to ‘pretty’. “And yer hair looks lovely. And… tea makes you warm.” Vivi nodded as if that might just cover it…..
[13:25] Yurei was about to reply to Crow when Vivianna interrupted her train of though. Normally, she would be irritated but she welcome the break in thought and speech as she collected the cup from her, “Thank you, girl.” Her voice was sweet, melodic, though still a bit hoarse due to her recovery. She lifted the rim to her mouth and took a few sips before extending it from her to contemplate the cup as was the Pani way, “Your girl is lovely. My compliments.” The beverage warmed her hands and she exhaled, allowing her shoulders to deflate as she became more comfortable before resuming her exchange with Crow, “I was wrong, Crow. And it’s rare when I admit that.” She had finally released his hand to cup the tea as she allowed the liquid to warm her insides after sipping it again, “Nothing is absolute, absolutely nothing. Our genders vascillate between clay and bone status.” She glimpsed up at him thoughtfully, “And I believe you and I are made of both bone and clay… there are some pieces of us that can never mend but
[13:25] Yurei: our perseverence… our strength and tenacity to survive resides within our bones.” She glimpsed down at the cup again as her partially combed out hair which the slave Alesia had tended to was beginning to look somewhat more manageable. “I have a solution and this only occurs in Pani culture. But, with out mutual rejection of one another, I don’t think that a breech in tradition would matter much.” Her eyes moistened as she encountered his eyes again, “Make me a contract woman… your contract woman. It’s the path of both slave and free woman combined.”
[13:32] Melchior Wardell looked at Vivianna when the compliment was made. Perhaps he as any Gorean man should feel pride in owning her and he did – the collar wasn’t a thing he gave easy surely not his. “She is entertaining.” he simply said in reply, which was perhaps the understatement of the year. He grins when the admitance came of her wrong “I wonder about the bone and clay – Peacock. I see us as birds each have their own unique way of going through life. Perhaps you and I have learned to fly with the breeze of winter, were others would strike down to rest upon branches.” he spoke with a voice that was dark – aged – but no longer harsh or demanding. Perhaps like a poet that phylosofic spoke about his vision on life. “I have never underestimated your strength or abbility to survive. I have seen you broken, shattered, bitter and nearly on the edge of death.” he looked down on Vivianna and even managed to smile. “A life as a woman that is in any way connected to mine – isn’t easy. I would even say hard.” he said earnest. (c)
[13:36] Melchior Wardell took a moment pause to gather his own thought “I was once indeed broken. I vowed myself then a promise that untill today I never broke. A promise that is far more valuable than any gold or even my life.” he then turned to face her once again. In his eyes there was perhaps that sadness of the bittersweet memory of the very moment he had vowed never to love again. Not for the codes or regulations of his caste, but simply because he couldn’t be so selfish again. “How tempted your sollution might seem – I have to decline it for reasons I cannot speak.” he said – truthfully when it came to his own thoughts. “However Peacock – I will not let you fly in the winterstorm. You will find yourself protected by old and dark feathers – as long as life permits.”
[13:36] Vivianna tilted her face up to the woman’s with the praise, and turned to look at her owner. She’d want to see if he was pleased as she moved back to his side. She’d stand silently behind him, waiting to serve if need be.
[13:48] Yurei continued sipping her tea in silence while she listened to him and her hands began to tremble at the final statement. His rejection was something that was she wasn’t expecting but she did not blame him… she understood the difficulties of his caste and what hardships it entailed. “You saved my life though. I have crossed the threshold of dreams and now I am beginning… to feel things again.” She set the cup aside on the adjacent desk as she approached him, though she did savor Vivianna’s offering, she felt her heart was like a ticking time bomb in her chest, “I don’t blame you anymore. Crow… I think… I care for you.” She deliberately met his eyes which seemed to fill with emotion. There was palpable difficulty in her speech, stammering as she revealed the context of her feelings, “But you know me… I will survive any love which weighs me down. I will even destroy it if I must to live. Not unlike you.” She leaned on tip-toes and draped her arms about his shoulders as she kissed him… tenderly, pas
[13:48] Yurei: sionately, and with profound reverence for the being who’s path intertwined with hers. She did this for a while, uncaring of his reaction. She had wanted to do this without the bitterness and it seemed to vivify her. She broke it after several ehn and pivoted to the side, “Thank you… know that I will protect you however I can as well.”
[13:57] Melchior Wardell was perhaps for a rare moment – not the dark man with the many masks that would imprison his feelings and answered her kisses with a similar tenderness. Perhaps in a way he once had kissed his companion or another before he had been broken to be build as the man he was now. He again had taken every word to mind and than his hands took her hands from his shoulders to push her gently from him. Perhaps the tenderness wasn’t as much of a lover, but a protector – a brother in arms – a comrade. He watched her intently and when he was certain his voice would not hold his old sadness he said “To care for anyone is precious and somethng one should treasure. We never know when we might not be able to care again. It isn’t something to be killed, but celibrated. There is always a space in our being that allows us to be a child that sings, a lover that shares the pleasures.” He nodded “If your destiny is alike to mine – I know you will be the indestructable one, who suffered everything and nothing.” (c)
[14:00] Melchior Wardell gave a small gesture to the room “I might have saved you. But not as much by keeping you alive because of your injuries, but by the acceptance that life has things in it that might harm us – not with the intent of it. ” he tipped her nose, playful – a sort of compliment as he never did it with those he didn’t like “However promise me that you will never safe me – for the moment I would be in your debt – I would no longer be what I am or wish to be.” the last was spoken again in earnest. He was afterall a Gorean man – An Assassin who would fail his caste if it indeed ever came to such.
[14:02] Vivianna was well trained, and she’d been serving the killers for years. She was trained to be lethal, loving, loyal… She could poison with a smile, and report things in the minutest detail to her owner. And even with all of that, she could not keep the look of shock from her face as the woman touched her Master. Her eyes widened and she even took a step back, just in case. When her Master spoke softly to the woman, the shock she wore turned to even wider eyed and opened mouthed amazement. She tried to school her features back in to the calm little observer she always was…. She even offered a smile to the woman.
[14:09] Yurei released him as her arms dropped to her sides and she became crestfallen. She realized now he didn’t see her the way that she saw him, even though all the signs seemed to declare otherwise. The lump assembled in her throat as it descended into her stomach, descending into a spiderweb of knots which elicited tears. But, they were tears of relief as it seemed, though they hinted at sadness and joy. She was happy to have made her peace with Crow, but was unsettled. However, the flick of her nose produced a feeble smile as she gazed into his eyes again, “You know I can’t promise you that, my black bird.” She stated affectionately, if not lovingly, “But, I release you from any and all debt from me. I simply want you to find your contentment in this world and perhaps…” She dauntlessly raised her callused hand to allow it level over the area where his heart was and press against it. She could the steady beat of his heart, even through his clothes which made many fear him. She had ceased fearing his caste long
[14:09] Yurei: ago but maintained a respect as she viewed herself not unlike them. “I know your codes, your caste… but promise me you will try to be happy… for this peacock who has now become a butterfly.”
[14:17] Melchior Wardell composed again to the man with the many masks and caught her hand from his heart. “Seems we both can’t truly promise.”he replied. Perhaps a sad statement when one would think of it. He knew that at the present he held no debt with anyone. It stronged him often to know that he had even compensated those that had given him much. He had rescued his mentor Sol, tended to his fathers last words – when he thought to leave life. He was a man that had faced many obsticles in life and had suffered them and yet none had harmed him in his core, which he even now protected with all his might. He could explain that it weren’t for his codes of his caste, but the solemn vow he had made, yet he didn’t. Why would he burden another with what he carried for this long. “Very well.” he said to the last of her words. He took a small pouch from his belt and gave it to his girl “Put it on the desk.” he turned back “That will cover all costs and with what remains I hope this butterfly will find that new start.” (c)
[14:19] Melchior Wardell continued “But please take to heart that this isn’t simple coin a good man made. I am very much – the black bird – that murders.” he stated. “A butterfly can be when with others even move air – while when there are more of me – they will speak again of murder. Do not forget that behind each goes that secret world even in that of the most colourful butterfly.” he then turned perhaps to rip himself from the woman that had haunted his toughts for this long. “Heel mine.” he merely gave his girl in order so she would.
[14:21] Vivianna curled her fingers around the pouch and muttered softly “Yes, my Master.” before she turned to carry it to the desk. She laid it carefuly in the center and headed back to his side. The pouch felt heavy to her hand, and she took another curious glance at the woman, wanting to know about the lady who would be worth such a pouch of coins. She spoke to his command quickly “Yes, my Master.” and prepared to follow him back out in to the cold. She looked over her shoulder, one last look at the woman before she turned to follow Crow out. She’d never even greeted the lady…
——
One would have to wonder why Crow didn’t take Yurei… Suyuan for his own… but he had his reasoning and again they seemed to go their seperate ways for the time being.
There continued to be rumors of a scarred, Tuchuk looking woman roaming the Northern Forests who seemed to train the very black birds that continued to visit her quite frequently. Despite her initial dissapointment, she had changed… life had returned to her being and the bitterness which seemed to be forte had subsided a bit.
One day she disappeared… only to re-emerge attired in traditional Pani robes and labeling herself an entertainer. She called herself Tokoyo… named after the girl who won back her swordsmen father’s honor.
—– Tokoyo’s Story ——
She was the daughter of a swordsmen named Oribe Shima. Shima had displeased the emperor, who was in an ill state of health, and subsequently banished him from the kingdom. As a result, he had to set up home on a group of islands called the Oki Islands, away from his daughter. Both he and Tokoyo were miserable at being separated, and she became determined to find him. She sold all her property, and set out for a place called Akasaki, which was just off the coast from the Oki Islands. Although she asked the fishermen to ferry her there, they all refused, since it was forbidden to visit anyone banished there.
One night, she took a boat and sailed to the islands herself. She spent the night on the beach. The next morning while searching for her father she encountered a fisherman, whom she asked about her father. The fisherman replied he knew nothing, and warned her not to ask anyone else about his whereabouts. As a result, she was forced to eavesdrop on people’s conversations, rather than simply asking them directly. Unfortunately, Tokoyo could not gather any useful information this way.
On one evening, she came upon a shrine of Amaterasu, and after praying to her, collapsed and fell asleep. She was awoken by the sound of a girl crying, and looked up to see a young girl and a priest. The priest led the girl to the edge of a cliff and would have pushed her off the edge, if it wasn’t for the intervening of Tokoyo. The priest said he was going to sacrifice the girl in order to appease the god Okuninushi, who demanded the annual sacrifice of a young girl. Tokoyo offered to take the girl’s place, begrieved and hopeless from not finding her father. After praying to Amaterasu again, she dived down into the ocean; dagger in her teeth.
At the bottom of the ocean, Tokoyo found a mighty cave, which housed a statue. The statue was of the emperor who banished her father, and she immediately decided to destroy it. However, thinking better of it, she tied it to herself and began to swim back with it. Before she could leave the cave, a serpentine creature (not Okuninushi, but some unnamed monstrosity) confronted her. Devoid of fear, Tokoyo first stabbed it in the eye, blinding it, then relentlessly attacked until she succeeded in killing it. When she arrived at the shore, the priest and girl carried her to town. Word of her heroic deed spread. The emperor’s unknown ailment had also suddenly been lifted. He realized that Tokoyo must have released him from a curse, because of what she did to the statue. He ordered the release of Oribe Shime. The father and daughter happily returned to their home town.
—————–
Few if any believed her, but found the story fascinating. Suyuan, now having labeled herself after the legendary figure became more content with each opportunity she told the story. She would have to remember to tell it to Crow next time she saw him.
He had restored her honor and in return she had given a most precious gift… the feelings of her heart. Gratitude was not enough for Amaterasu binding them together.
Perhaps in this lifetime, they couldn’t afford the luxuries they wanted but at least they knew they would always have one another… either in signs or dreams.
Tokoyo was triumphant and Suyuan finally seemed to have found the peace that eluded her for so long. But, as Crow stated, there would always be darkness. She was ready to battle it whenever it attacked her.
For now, she would attempt to find a place where she could find some measure of peace with the money Crow gave to her… Torvaldsland seemed ideal. Perhaps, she could settle down on that farm she dreamed about, companion, and have children. It was a life she wanted. It was a life she deserved. It was a life she should have had.
Now, she had her chance. The possibilities were endless. She now had the tools to quell the demolished dreams of both her childhood and adulthood and commence the long, arduous healing process. She would endure it as best she could without ever losing herself again.
“Mother, you would have liked him…” She said to the air, hoping that wherever Mizumi was, she could hear her.
She could sense the wind of change as she returned to the cliff where she had originally intended to end her life. This time she was glimpsing at the horizon with a profound hope that she hadn’t felt in years.
The world of men was cumbersome but with men like Crow, it made it bearable. She would try to be happy and live contentedly not just for him, but also herself.
She had herself but she felt connected to everything and everyone for the first time.
As Tor-tu-Gor ascended over Thassa, she smoothed her hair over her notched ears while studying the glittering waves.
She pivoted and abandoned the cliff, never intending to return to it as she would see what this chaotic world had to offer her. She would stumble and fall several times, but the renewed strength which blazed inside of her was beyond any slave fire she had ever experienced or felt. She would continue to survive however she could, but also remember to live. She liked the idea of settling down in the North. But, despite her desires, she knew never to expect… only hope. Tears blinded her vision as she created more distance between her and her old life and a single thought occurred to her as she took the path to join her hired guard who stood watching. They would be leaving Dyval indefinitely and go wherever fate lead them. Perhaps one day she would discover her destiny, but for now she had fate and she was grateful for that. As she shed the skin of her former life, a single thought occurred to her:
“Knowing love, I will allow all things to come and go. To be as supple as the wind, and take everything that comes with great courage. Life is right in any case. My heart is as open as the sky.” – Maya, Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love
—————————————-
But these were all fantasies and fever dreams.
She was still in Dyval, attired in her rep-cloth gown as she watched Crow begin to depart. She felt something within her ache and the poignant words of Alesia resonated within her head. What about personal desire? Instinct told her to be silent and she regarded the coin bag he had left for her. Whatever pride she possessed became obsolete in the moment he turned his back upon her and she bellowed out to him, “Crow… wait a moment.”
Crow watched how the slave girl gathered the silks that he had torn from her body only a few moments ago. He had used her, rough and without any love or affection. He simply had taken her as the beast she was to satisfy his own needs of release. It had been several hands ago when he had used a slave and perhaps it would be more hands when he would again. There was no love making, no tenderness and the girl that scurried in his room was very much aware of his strength. She carried the scars, perhaps even bruises for several days to remind her of him. The slave finally knelt before him and pressed her forehead to his knee. “Master, is there anything I can bring you ?” she asks softly – in fear that she again would meet him in the harsh manner of before.
Crow reached out to her long black locks of hair and pulled her to his face “No.” he stated while his green eyes that had seen all the countless murders, searched for hers. “You served me well. You can give that to your owner.” He said while he reached out to his belt that was discarded next to him. He pulled the coin that he and the owner had agreed and handed it to her. “I will of course check if he will receive every one of them.” He warned before he took possession of her lips for a final time. “Now go.” He bid her, before he would turn to his tunic. The girl rises and turned to leave but stopped halfway across the room to kneel again. She pressed her head to the floor, lowering her body as far as she was able. Crow noticed and understood that the position she had taken was to express how low she was and that there was still something she wished to share – something nearly forgotten. “Master, forgive this low slave.” She whispered. “I was asked to pass a message.” She added.
Crow watched her, didn’t yet speak while he cleaned himself up and started to dress himself further. He knew that the girl hadn’t been given any time to speak when she had entered the room. It was one of his ways. Not give girls the room to come close before that act of pleasure. Have them as strangers, helpless and with no names. “Speak.” He only replied to her eventually. The slave knelt back but kept her eyes on his sandals. Perhaps she could see how well armed Crow truly was when he started to strap his daggers upon his body. “I was told that the one you were waiting for has sent word.” She said with a hint of her own curiosity, since the message held so little information. Crow nodded and knew instantly that there was only one he had been waiting for “Good.” He stated and waved his hand “If that was all you were to tell, you can leave.”
The slave girl took that intake of breath – as if she had escaped death and hurried out the room he had paid for. When the door closed Crow finally felt himself alone with the thoughts he only kept for himself. “The Peacock has recovered.” He stated to himself as if the woman was only a metaphor for what was. A woman that had endured much and always seemed to find herself carrying scars but alive. The thought that she was in a way so similar to him. He had survived several Kurri attacks, wars, chases after a kill or even a fall from his tarn. He never came out of it unharmed, for each there was a scar that would remind him of what he had escaped. The tokens of his victory on death itself.
Crow looked around the room, the smell of sex still in the air, to be sure that he had indeed armed himself completely and hadn’t forgotten any of his belongings. He was getting older and to reach for a knife that he might have forgotten wasn’t the best way in his profession. He was careful and with it always aware that danger could come from small things that others often underestimated. The Peacock was one woman he never would underestimate. He had seen her in so many ways and never could he see her as just that beast as he had with the girl that had rushed from his room a moment ago.
Crow stepped towards the window that gave him an excellent view on the small town square. He could see the merchants that carried their merchandize to their stalls. He even could hear the conversations or debates between them. Their lives were so different to his own, he thought. They could make commitments with others, take a companion or even fall in love. The last something Crow feared more than death itself. He knew that falling in love would make any men weak. The man could fight it, could try to show different, but no man would truly be without that blur that such emotions gave.
Crow leaned against the wall that still gave him that view and wondered about the story of Azrael.
Azrael
Azrael would have been one of the first Assassins, legends said. A man so skilled in steel was asked to murder for gold. Azrael had been a famous warrior, whose heart turned cold when his beloved companion had died in a war. His kills were done swift with not even a hint of his presence. Guards spoke of the ghost that seemed to murder. None had ever seen him, nor could they even shace his shadow when the murder was found out. He came and went with no witnesses there. Azrael was considered one of the best in his caste.
When Azrael was tasked to murder the same man that had ordered the needless war there had been no signs of his failure. He had done all an Assassin would do. He had been as a shadow to the man, had observed, studied all his doings. Azrael had known his e. very day step, his routine, the number of men that protected him
The Assassin Azrael had finally known that the best chance was to kill the man in his own home by night. When he had finally made his last arrangements to give him a quick exit from the murder he was to commit he had readied himself to enter the house unseen.
Azrael had dressed himself in the black of the night to hide in the shadows and pass the unsuspecting guards and painted the dagger upon his forehead – a sign that he was there to do what he had been paid for. It had been no problem to enter the house, the man that was to be killed perhaps felt falsely safe by the amount of guards that were around his home.
Azrael had been on the verge of killing when a slave entered the room of the man that was sound asleep. Azrael would kill her just as swiftly if it weren’t for the candle light that showed her face to him. The same face as that of his beloved companion. A deep and profound love that had been years ago his soul of living. The blade in place to pierce the mans heart started to tremble when the slave girl had whispered to him and pleaded for the life of the man that in his mind had been the cause of the death of his own companion. He could have killed the man in the blink of an eye, could have slit the throat of the girl in the process and yet he could not. Instead of taking the life of the man he turned his blade to his own heart and fell in it to kill himself.
An Assassin that had been only a ghost for most, an example for many other killers, had failed his caste by not doing what he was paid for, simply out of love for the memory of his own beloved companion that would await him in the City of Dust.
—
The story of Azrael always gave Crow the shivers, since he could perhaps empathise with the man that Azrael would have been. Perhaps because he also had lost a woman that he had loved so deeply or could see the reason for the failure of Azrael as one that he could make too. It was this story that made him carry the mask of the cold – harsh killer. It was the knowledge that even a slave girl could make the most fierce man bend or break.
Crow walked back to the bowl with water and splashed some of it to his face, in wish to erase these thoughts from it, before he would go to the physician to see what state he would find the Peacock in.
Yurei should have died and in a sense she did. She died again and again, like the Phoenix of Earth legend who lives for a thousand years, only to build it’s own funeral pyre and cast itself into the flames. As it dies, it is reborn and it ascends from the ashes to live another thousand years. There were various Pani legends reflecting the Earth story, but what she found most fascinating were the stories and facts that her mother shared with her about crows and ravens. The creatures would sit on hot surfaces as they allowed the heat to overwhelm them. Sometimes when they flapped their wings, they encouraged the flames of whatever fire they perching near to blaze and it would frighten the bird, causing it to take flight. She had watched one instance of this as a child and found it fascinating. She always had an affinity for birds and what they represented to her. Sometimes, she even wished to fly away like the black birds who appeared whenever she seemed to need them the most.
The physician’s slave tended to her and she learned that her name was Alesia. She was lovely, slender, but certainly never lacked any curvature which made her the beautiful slave she was. She possessed keen, intelligent, and thoughtful green eyes that exuded nothing but tenderness and warmth. Her conversations with her revealed that she too was a former breeder but had been rescued by the physician and subsequently she became his love slave. The tell-tale signs of affection between the physician and Alesia was palpable, if not admirable. But, he was rough with her and often scolded her for small mishaps. It was not uncommon for a man to be harsh with his love slave. She happened to listen to the sounds of Alesia being lashed for accidentally spilling broth on Yurei’s sheets and the physician happened to be present. His mild-mannered countenance altered to rage as he reached for the whip he hid under his desk and dragged Alesia by her hair from the room to so that he could punish her in privacy. After the ordeal, Alesia emerged from outside, sniffling and flushed and Yurei could discern the lash marks across her body. The physician returned and beckoned Alesia to a cot where he proceeded to apply salve to her wounds as he spoke tenderly to her.
Yurei could not help but feel simultaneously envious and disturbed at what she witnessed. It reminded her of herself and Shiefo as he was one of the few owners to lash her whenever she made a minute mistake. His image also surfaced in her delirious dreams while she battled her sickness.
She remembered the last time she encountered him and the exchange that she had made. It was the previous summer in Port Cos as a matter of fact and and the season was gradually declining into autumn.
He happened to see her as she had just finished playing her samisen for a group of warriors. Seeing him made her heart plummet into her belly and caused her to drop her instrument, chipping the wood and breaking a string. He had pulled her aside and demanded to know how she had attained freedom.
Her bitterness still enveloped her as she voiced her grievances with him and it was both poignant and emotional. He realized that she was drowning in her own antipathy for just about everything around her and offered to end her existence. She was shocked; the former Ubar of Telnus with whom she shared her happiest days with was willing to take her life from her in order to “ease her suffering”. How she had loved him when she belonged to him and how their feelings flourished like blossoms reaching for Tor-tu-Gor which replenishes all life. Yet, here he was, willing to end her life for her own good. The man she had loved had died in the fall of Salernum… or at least the ideal of him did. They both shared a relationship like Alesia and the physician. The only difference was was that Yurei’s self-identity remained in check so it seemed. She remembered glaring at Shiefo and declaring, “I don’t have enough love for you to allow you to kill me.” With that, she kissed him. What the former Ubar did not know was that the rouge that was painted upon was mixed with tassa powder and her kiss had rendered him unconscious, leaving her enough time to escape and return to her nomadic existence. But, she had to go the extra mile when a rarius discovered them. Her quick thinking had allowed her to inform the rarius that Shiefo had accosted her and was drunk.
Just as he came to, she accused him again and departed the city. That was the last time she ever went to Port Cos.
Her action might be seen as wicked, if not treacherous. She wasn’t surprised really; after all she was a panther and they were known to be thieves, whores, and liars for when the situation warranted it. She was reminded of this whenever she tucked her wayward strands behind her ears, both of which were notched due to an overzealous rarius with whom she attempted to befriend and even understand, but his stubbornness and strict dedication to his codes created friction. She did this act even now as she allowed her callused fingertip to trace over the crude indents in her ears. Not only were they notched, but they were simultaneously pierced. Shiefo made certain that her life would be harder as he inserted needles into them while he positioned her over a tavern table and proceeded to slave rape her afterwards. But, despite what he did, she still loved him albeit quite foolishly.
She propped herself upon the pillows while she contemplated all of this as Alesia attended to her. She had just bathed and Alesia was attempting to comb out her dreadlocks again. Each knot she yanked elicited a gasp from the peacock and each time she apologized profusely for hurting her. Alesia reminded her so much of her former self and despite their differences, found a sort of kinship with her like she did in the slave Ki so many years ago.
“My owner has dispatched a messenger to that man who brought you here Mistress.” Her voice was mellifluous and sweet and it reminded her of raw honey and sugar. “He says that since you are getting better, it is best for the killer to decide what to do next and how to proceed with you.” She became tentative as she stated the next words, “He says you may end up a slave.”
Yurei regarded her for a long time with a neutral countenance as she sympathized with her reluctance. She continued to comb her hair as gently as possible. “I hope you don’t, Mistress.” That was all she could afford to say in regard to her personal feelings. Alesia had seemed to grow fond of the recovering Pani woman and admired her qualities. “Forgive me if I step out of line, but from what I have seen in you, your heart and spirit are not meant for the collar. I don’t think any man can tame you.”
Yurei didn’t respond as she continued to glance forward. Her eyes flickered to the image of the human body which Crow had discerned a Hand or so prior. Her brows rested heavily over her slanted eyes as she seemed to become lost in thought… or feeling.
“Perhaps so. But, things are not always certain now are they?”
Her thoughts continued to meander as Alesia continued her care. Her statements left her confused, but also pensive as she studied the poster with what seemed to be immense concentration as she thought of Crow and their prior conversations.
Her fragile beat faster particularly when she contemplated over their history together; their conversations, their dispositions… how everything between them seemed to weave and connect quite naturally.
Crow confused her just as much as she confused him. But, it didn’t explain the rapid pounding of her heart whenever she seemed to recall even the most unfavorable moments with him.
She studied the imagine and focused upon the chest area where a diagram of the heart seemed to be the primary focus. Everything in the human body was fueled by the heart and the blood it pumped through it. Love, joy, rage, sorrow – all of the complex matters of human nature begins with the heart…
…And it was her heart that began to swell with emotion as she realized that for once, she could feel without having to resort to bitterness. It was a defense mechanism; it was what sustained her. She remembered the expression she shared with Crow… eating bitterness and allowing adversity to transform into virtue.
She was tired of swallowing bitterness. She was tired of herself; of the disguises, masks, and lies. For the first time in what seemed to be ages, she wanted to feel freely and openly without being being afraid of what the consequences would bring.
She wondered what Crow was doing and reclined on her bed as Alesia tucked her back into bed. She couldn’t wait to inform him of her epiphany.
Crow had taken up a room in the Inn and had now taken a seat in the room where food and drinks were served. The slaves that were dressed in precious silks, clearly there to honour the slaver that occupied a building close to it. The girls, beautiful or even exotic, there to lure customers to buy them, weren’t idle but serving the guests that were in the room. He silently observed their well manners, their subtle gestures of their talents that were still veiled as to urge men to search further and eventually find themselves in the unstoppable desire to own them. The slaver must be a talented one to have such in stock, Crow mused to himself while his attention was taken by a girl that demure and graciously knelt beside him. For a moment he had to halt himself as not to send her away, but to give her the order that what he wished to eat and drink.
The slave girl was clearly not in her element with him, he thought when he spied the trembling of her hands that rested upon her knees. Crow should perhaps be used to it and yet it took him by surprise every single time. But she could not know, who or what he was besides the Assassin. He wasn’t a cartoon figure with only a black cloak and the task to kill a life that was paid for. An Assassin was far more than his caste, Crow thought while he gave eventually gave the order to bring him a meal and his milk. In his corner of the room he felt alone, truly alone as if when one would take him from here, none would even think or notice him being gone. The loneliness had helped often in his tasks and yet it could suffocate him in another, when there was no contract to fulfil. Had he by taking up the cloak and helmet, taken the life of only that ? Was he only 2 dimensional ?
He spied a man across the room that was wearing his white with gold colours. The man probably rich and well known seemed to wave his hand to several others. Offered them a seat at his table and slapped the girls asses to make them hurry in bringing the wine he had ordered. A man that clearly enjoyed life and shared it so graciously with others. A man whose life pretty much could depend on how others would perceive him. If one would become envious or would learn to hate him, a couple of Gold Tarns could end that man’s life quickly. How that thought had troubled him when he was still that young Tarnsman in Glorious Ar, that shared his earnings with friends. That had never found himself lonely at a table as he was now. Many years had passed since then and even if he hadn’t taken up the Caste of Assassins, would he still be so full of joy as he was then ? Would he not be the worried father he nearly became to be when his life shifted in that horrid way ?
The girl returned and her eyes never looked up to him, but were on the tray and table where she carefully put all he had ordered. When the girl asked him for more of his wishes he only shook his head and sent her away with a flick of his hand. How these helpless creatures reminded him of his own slavery. The slavery of the Caste that held so many secrets, so many unspoken codes of conduct. A caste that was never about pride or glory, but about gold and the next contract one could gain. It was about skill, in mind and steel. None really made the choice to become an Assassin because one became one. One was recruited or searched for the caste for another purpose, which was never discussed. Some to escape the shame of being exiled by their original caste while others – as he – were escaping the torment of their lives.
Crow ate but all the while his thoughts wandered. He could have been a Peacock if it weren’t for the loss of his beloved companion and the deaths of his children. He could have been that proud Warrior of Ar and have that glory in what he did. Celebrate his honour and serve the purpose to which he was born. But here he was – The Crow – that simply did his dealings in the shadows. That for most was just that cold, heartless man that had given up on all beauty and pleasures of life. A man that was for those that didn’t know him well enough – shallow and one that took gold over life.
From the corner of his eyes he noticed the Innkeeper nervous to his presence. The glances in his direction, the girl that had instantly returned to him, mere signs that he wished to know why he was here. Crows hair prevented anyone to see that he wasn’t wearing the mark of the dagger upon his forehead, perhaps partly to blame. Perhaps most would be unbothered by the distress of others, but yet he wondered if he should finish his plate quickly and depart again. Crows talent in portraying himself as the Assassin that was ruthless, unbothered and harsh, helped him in situations like these. None would even come close to guess his true thoughts, except for one girl that could read Assassins as clear as day. How odd that this girl now seemed to be related to one of his mentors.
Crow took the vessel with milk and gulped it down as if to finish his meal here where thoughts of the past seemed to fly by as if they were hummingbirds in search for their beloved honey. The thought of Raven – the girl of Scar – had taken him back by – The Peacock. The women – the slave – the panthergirl and never had he seen her as to what she truly was. He knew that whatever she was, he hadn’t seen it. Crow might have been many things, but he wasn’t a coward. He would face what challenge all of this would give him, since he was certain there was one. It was the wheel of which he and T. had spoken. The wheel showing a new direction, perhaps a new phase. Perhaps the answer to the puzzle was before him – but he wasn’t yet ready to see it.
—————— Several years previously ————————
Suyuan (suyuan.quan) knew that he wouldn’t flinch or blanch, as assassins were trained to be the ideal and perfection of rigidness and unparalelled steadfastness. Oh, it was simple to imitate herself but each day that progressed, it became harder to resort back to her Pani face; stoicism while feeling a maelstrom inside. Her gaze flickered towards the collar-girl and she nodded towards her but focused back upon her ambition, “We do… but men so often interfere with it as their will must be exercised first before we are permitted to do what we wish.” Her voice was steady, careful, if not meticulous in the manner of which she spoke. But, she was still audacious, “Men’s greed prove to overween us too much and that is why we cannot complete our destinities. However…” She shifted to face him, holding a regal pose as if she were a queen, “I think of men and women like clay and bone. Men shatter like a clay pot and no matter how much you attempt to piece it back together, it will never be the same. Women however are bone. We break, but we can mend like nothing ever happened. When I was a child, my mother told me to think of myself as grass – born to be stepped on by men. But, I think of myself as a peacock among vulos.”
Crow (melchior.wardell) nods and his green eyes light up at the vivid picture her story held to him “It is those women that keep a men from breaking that are cherished and loved to the extent that wars will be fought to have them or own them.” he lifted his chin slightly while his eyes regarded her sharply “Did you ever consider how much spring a woman can bring to a man ?” he asks her but waved the question away “It is your bitterness … if you could lose it … your beauty would extent far more … than any sway of your hip or exposed skin could gain.” he lifted her chin tenderly even … “You can be the most beautiful peacock … if you learn to clean up your feathers and be without the weight of your past.”
Suyuan (suyuan.quan)’s almond-eyes broadened a bit though her expression remained serene, similar to that of a Buddha, Mona-Lisa, or perhaps an ost waiting to strike on its intended victim, “Have you ever heard of a phrase called ‘chi ku – eating bitterness’? It is a belief that adversity brings virtue. Oh Crow, I have swallowed my bitterness and moved on… but I know you are not unlike me… something weighs in your heart too. Something did break you.”
Crow (melchior.wardell) shook his head “I don’t know the expression … and I am aware of the fact that at one point in my life there was something that broke me … and it will never heal … as I have left it there … that piece will never be …” he could express it without the sadness that had owned him for the longest ever since the death of his companion and children “But the difference between you and I … it has not blemished my feathers … it has not tainted my heart by darkness … it has never been replaced since I never looked for replacement … which … you try.” he pulled her by her wrists closer and locked his eyes to hers “You speak of swallowing your bitterness and yet you spoke of what you my caste has taken … ” he released her and pushed her gently back to make his own movement to leave “I am sure we will continue this discussion … but until that time … that eating bitterness … also means to chew it before you swallow.” with that he moved further and left without giving her any time to respond.
———————— Present ——————-
Crow nodded to himself while the last of his own words dawned him. “we will continue the discussion” With that he lifted himself up to pay the Innkeeper and leave the room where the laughter of others tried to persuade him to dive deeper in his own memories of what never could be. He couldn’t replace it – nor mend it – nor disguise it – of that he was certain.
The physician simply inclined his head towards Crow in the briefest of nods. He comprehended the orders and returned to his desk to continue filing paperwork. The only questions that seemed to remain nascent in his brain was what going to be done with the Pani panther the moment she awakened… that is, if she survived this ordeal. The sedative performed the necessary alleviation as it had intended and she slept fitfully for what may be the first time in ages. There were no visions of her mother, Lord Nishida, her estranged son, or the series of owners who had created her and remade her in their images, only to tire of her and sell her off at a whim. The lover that Crow thought of seemed to invade her dreams. She remembered his impetuousness, optimism, tenderness, and honesty… everything she ever desired in a man. But, what he had lacked was strength and courage… the strength to keep her close and the courage to fight for her when instead she seemed to doing that all on her own for him. Everything she did was always for him… the call for help when Snow, one of Crow’s counterpart was cut down in front of her. Her clever mind unveiled the possibilities of exactly how much closer she can get to her lover in saving that assassin’s life. Instead, it became a precedent for a perilous and foolish journey which altered both of their lives. Snow had enslaved her and she managed to escape him, only to find herself in the clutches of the slaver who was the crux of her nightmares and his name was Dane. If there was any other slaver aside from the man who owned herself and her mother who elicited pure, unadulterated fear, resentment, and hatred – it was him. Dane, who bathed her after her initial loss of innocence in which a hired hand of the Pasha she had served publically stripped and raped her. If there was an answer to all of the bitterness she seemed to harbor towards the institution of slavery and men’s whims, it was that initial betrayal by the Pasha who had delivered her into the mouths of larls. He saw her as a pawn and when she had taxed out her usefulness, he ousted her. He took responsibility for her: bathing, training, and caring for her while her belly burgeoned with the reminder of how she had lost her freedom and peace of mind. But, in her madness and desperation, she frantically clung to him and the promises he made about her child – how she could raise it and one day it would be freed. He had bought her mind and heart with lies and in the tradition of Earth-bound Stockholm Syndrome, she began to sympathize and even care for him. He murdered her fantasy during the moments of labor and had taken her child from her only moments after she had given birth. It was through rumors and pleading with sympathetic slave girls who worked with the physician that she learned she had a baby boy. She had a son and despite how he was conceived, she loved and yearned for him. She did not even have the opportunity to nurse him as his crying was the final thing she heard despite her pleading with the slavers and physicians surrounding that she wanted to see him. But, her pitiful requests were rebuffed and she gradually agonized to the point of suicide… but was deterred by a fellow slave girl who had observed her disposition and felt pity for her. It was then that she began to notice the strange omens of the black birds that seemed to arrive at the most inopportune moments for herself – particularly when she intended to end her own life which was more than once. She had met her lover – Dante in Salernum after subsequently being released and attempted to begin anew. She purposely neglected to inform him about that sordid detail of her past as she didn’t intend to destroy her current state of peace and contentment. No man she ever became involved ever became aware of what had happened to her. She was afraid it would blemish what she had and thus it was the reason why she now adopted different names and disguises in order to fool anyone she might encounter from her past. Dante’s enthusiasm declined to a somber, detached disposition as his training resumed with Crow. He still proclaimed love and affection, but she could see that things were rapidly changing: he made no efforts to seek her out as she had to go to him. She risked both their lives to have a final night with him before the former Ubar of Telnus claimed her for his own. Perhaps it was a blessing in disguise as the action seemed to deter her desire to continue her relationship with Dante. She weighed the options with a heavy heart and decided to do what was best for everyone – leaving him. It was for the best as he began to comport himself in a way she could barely recognize. She no longer blamed Crow for Dante’s mistakes… it was Dante who had killed himself. —— Several years ago…
Ayasha Catteneo steps up quietly and glances over with a wary eye before bowing her head “greetings Master
Ayasha Catteneo: greetings Mistress
Dante Juriya looks to the girl with a serious expression, “Tal, Lass.”
Ayasha Catteneo: can I help you with anything Master?
Suyuan Quan diverts her attention from her man and viewed the slave girl with quizzicalness as she attempted to bad her rise.
Dante Juriya nods, assuming she wasa village slave, “I need to speak wiv one of the caste of black.” He nods, hoping she could fetch him one an speed up the prcess a little.
Ayasha Catteneo tips her head a little and tho her eyes betray a bit of fire, she still murmurs softly “why would there be one of the black here in a fishing village Master?”
Dante Juriya chuckles and rests a hand on the woman’s shoulder, “This woman has lead me here. She knows of their where abouts.” He lowers his voice slightly, “I wish to pledge, Lass.”
Ayasha Catteneo glances at the Mistress as if checking her out, her shoulders giving a small shrug before she turns back to the Master “you wish to pledge something to a black?”
Suyuan Quan tilted her head to one side as she peered over towards her man, a bit of nerbousness crossing her delicate features as she exhaled a bit of frost and reflexively shifted closer to him, whether for safety or for warmth.
Dante Juriya chuckles nodding, “I wish to pledge me life.” He wanted to be a man of the shadows. One who studied silently, undetected for that one target, waiting for the one perfect moment to strike. He wished to throw down the binding chains of honor and all of the other worries of a free, and disappear as if he never existed.
Suyuan Quan gestured over towards the horizon as she watched the two black figures enter the building, “There, my darling! They went in there!”
Ayasha Catteneo gives a faint nod “perhaps one could be found… but would it not be better to wait inside where it is warmer?”
Dante Juriya nodded, now, motioning the slave on, “Lead the way, Lass.”
Ayasha Catteneo bows her head, glancing at the Mistress before turning to lead the way inside.
Fang: yes Killer, it was.
Ayasha Catteneo steps in to curl down and bow her head “greetings Masters
Ayasha Catteneo: greetings Mistress
Ayasha Catteneo glances back to the two following her before murmuring “the Master here wishes to speak to one of the black..”
DarkSyns Magic: ” Sir I would ask that you please not touch the scrolls, they are owned by others and are of a sensitive nature. I am sure you would not like any interfering with yor own tasks.” Her words were said in a low soft voice, eyes smiling warmly however there was a slight edge.
Crow nods to the slave while he keeps his focus on the scrolls that were underneath his gloved hands “Excuse me ?” he said dryly “owned by others … and yet here you are in a crowded tavern … working on them ?” he narrows his eyes reading some more. “and about interfering my own tasks … I will deal with what comes.” he adds with the same lifeless voice.
Fang hearing the womens words he turns his head and regards her. his ice blue eyes raking her over, his face stony showign no emotion as he looks at her
Serpent ‘then he has found two.. ‘ he says tonelessly then turns his attention back to the one called fang ‘Seems you did well, there is another here that favours the axe.. It would be an interesting wager.. ‘
Fang: i dont favor it Killer, it is just.. nice to have Options is all.
Suyuan Quan’s boots picked up with quite a bit of celerity as she hurried after Dante and she paused just few inches behind him. She was correct. This was where she had heard of the killers frequenting as she remembered from her prior visit. Somehow, she seemed a bit more fased to be in a room surrounded by the assassins and she would seek out the expressions in their eyes, the tones of their voices and her heart pounded just a bit faster as she imagined her man being like one of them… could he be just as devoid of emotion as they?
Ayasha Catteneo bows her head slightly before moving to one side, going silent to let the visitors speak with the dark Masters.
DarkSyns Magic: ” They are not of a sensitive matter but I do not like my work being perused through. I am sure you can understand.,” cants her head. ” They are the slave papers from one of your own, I am sorting the, If you feel the desire to read them I am sure the KIller would share them with you.” golden greenish brown eyes gazed up at him nonplussed.
Crow looks at her while he keeps his pose rather impassive “a sensitive matter and yet they are simple slave papers ?” he replied. He arches a brow and leaves it with that. He turns to the ‘happy couple’ of before “Hmmm followed ?” he says to them leaving the pleasentries of a greeting.
Serpent ‘well favour or not, you wear it, that in itself tells me much.. ‘
Fang: yes Killer
Serpent Eyes flick to the slave for an Ihn.. ‘Blackwine. ‘ he says as he takes his usual seat.
Ayasha Catteneo peeks over at the command, bowing her head with a shy smile “right away Master..”
DarkSyns Magic: ” All my work is of a sensitive matter to someone Sir, quite like yours,” offers him a small sardonic smile.Impassively she picks up the writing stick and looks up at him,” Busy place this tavern seems to be, haunted and all”
Crow had kept his hand on the scroll and simply nods, “Indeed one could wonder about their …. sensitivity.” he says to her but than leaving the table and stepping closer to the two he met before in Salernum.
Fang: at times, when people have shorter fast swords, the axe my be used to string from a greater range, and if a man is fast and nible of foot, once can strike with swords takign away the range of the axe and its slowness becomes a hinderance
Fang: and .. its slightly .. imposing
Serpent ‘Indeed it is often said if you get to the elbow of an axe warrior he is as good as dead, meet the steel of it and you will betraveling to the city of dust’
Dante Juriya shakes his head, changing his outlook from what he had seen earlier. “I remember ye from earlier. What ye saw there was an act. This woman and I are strictly business. ” He had an expression of all seriousness covering his face, and his heart pounded excitedly before the assassins. “I wish to pledge me life to this caste. To caste off the chins of the free and take up the burdan of the shadows.”
Ayasha Catteneo steps back out to the Master’s side, both small hands wrapped around a large black cup. She curls down carefully and briefly presses it against her belly, offering it up afterwards and bowing her head low “your black wine Master.. fresh and hot”
Crow narrows his eyes seeing an other person enter, but than staring to the man before him “I see.” he said without much enthousiasm “And you think I will believe you on your … what is it … your colour eyes ?” he asks while regarding the woman also seeing if there was anything that would betray the lie or truth.
Suyuan Quan appeared a bit confused for a moment as she gesticulated to herself, “Are you asking me about my eyes, sir?”
Fang watchs the fellow and hears his words as he stands there speaking of pledging his life. then he note’s another fellow enter the building and watchs both people closly. his arms relaxing and his heartbeat slowly stilling.
Dante Juriya chuckles and proceeds to speak of their agreement, “Our agreement was to enter in Free Companionship to make the tading of Kanda for coin easier. It is a business relationship, I assure you.” He nodded, rubbing his chin as he thinks, “Ye can believe that the feelings she may or may not have for me are not mutual.”
Serpent motions Chaos to join him fith a flick of his fingers then takes the blackwine from the girl ‘serve others’ he instructs to her.
Crow shakes his head “No I doubt they matter.” he replied dryly while his cold stare returned to the man “pledge to a caste of killers … hmmm…” he muses while he regards him more closely “We do demand that they take away any attachment perhaps you can start with this business partner … show us your talent ?” he tells him
Ayasha Catteneo bows her head glancing around before moving to the canidate standing nearby.
DarkSyns Magic taking a deep breath she continues with her work. It was a good thing she chose this place for solitude and peace for there was nary an interruption. Her own humor causes the woman to almost chuckle aloud but she knew better. Perusing the two seperate scrolls she would compile one complete one for the Assassin.
Ayasha Catteneo curls down beside him and bows her head, her voice a soft murmur “may I serve you Master?”
Serpent ‘Take a seat lad’ he says lifting the bitter brew to his lips. his eyes watching the fellow as he steps closer.
Chaos Narstrom: move to him and then nods…”Tal”
Fang watchs at the slave nears him and he shakes his head no to silenly comunicate to her his deside to pay attn to the others * serve the others girl * he says with his dry slighy horse voice
Chaos Narstrom: his eyes briefly flicker to those gathered and then back to the one before him.
Ayasha Catteneo peeks up to murmur “as you wish Master..” her eyes glancing around the room before she moves to another.
Suyuan Quan chewed on her bottom lip as she heard the voluble spoken by Dante and the back of her throat burned but she would permit her face to betray that emotion would could harm his chances into entering the caste. As poised, she offered the precise stoic expression that had served her faithfully as she stated with a serrated edge, “Oh, it is over as this conversation occurs.”
Ayasha Catteneo curls down beside the dark Master, her voice soft so as to not interrupt him too much “may I serve you Master?”
Dante Juriya pushes the bangs of his right cheek to the side, revealing the brand which made him a theif to the common public, “I do not know what ye mean, but if it be along these lines, the caste of red has only caught me once.” He chuckles dropping his hand to his side.
Severus Koskinen: taps the table ‘Sit lad’ he says to Chaos..
Crow looks down to the girl and waves her away “The usual.” he said to her before turning his sharp attention back to the man “You know the penealty for not telling the truth ?” he said in a low tone, his pose so calm people that knew him would shiver … he was most dangerous when he reached this stage.
Fang watchs as the fellows hand drops to his side and readys himself should there be any action here not desired by the Killer. and waits silently
Chaos Narstrom: “How does this day find you?”
Ayasha Catteneo peeks up and bites at her lip before moving back towards the kitchen, her small form indeed shivering at the tone in his voice “right away Master..”
Serpent ‘Well Lad, you think you are ready now?’
Dante Juriya nodded, “I assume it to be death.” The words rolled off his tongue confidently for he had nothing to hide. He had not gained any attachment to Su, only fondness in a friendly manner. Familiarity.
Chaos Narstrom: “think?? I am ready.”
Ayasha Catteneo returns and curls back down, the dark wood of the bowl she holds showing only sparkling clear water inside. She presses it against her belly, then offers it up with a low bow of her head “your water Master…”
Crow nods slowly while he spies the girl return within his timelimit. “Indeed as any failure will lead to it ….” he replied in the same toneless voice. “Tell me … if you wish to join a caste that is known for their secrets, their unique ways … their edge of life and death … you think bringing a woman would serve you well ?”
Chaos Narstrom: his eyes focuses forward….what was going on behind him was of no concern….he knew they were there..how many but his concentration was focused.
Serpent ‘our last conversation I sent you away to sever ties and settle your business.. ‘ he reminds the youngster as he drinks, his eyes flicking to the unusual couple as they conversed with Crow.
Crow looks down to the slave “kiss the bowl.” he demanded … he was at times rather supersticious.
Chaos Narstrom: “I have done so….the ties that remained are no more.”
Chaos Narstrom: “I am ready as you instructed.”
Dante Juriya shook his head, “She was my map to this vilage for she spoke of being treated quite kindly by the killer here.” He scratched the back of his neck as he waited to be drilled by the next question.
Fang hears the words the man spoke then waitinf for the killer to let him kill this fellow and perhaps even the lady, as the fellow it seemed did not quite understand
Chaos Narstrom: his eyes studied the one in front of him…he had not been called lad for many years and in his younger days it would have brought a harsh..perhaps even violent retort…but the words slide off hardened hide…for they were that…words.
Crow arches a brow “I doubt that to be true, the woman was rather annoyed when we met her in Salernum.” he responded. He took a step closer, knowing that when he would draw his blade one swing would eliminate them both … if they were foolish enough to step closer to him. “Again … if you wish to join … we demand that you eliminate every attachment you might have … a real good killer doesn’t need a woman to help him in any degree.” that was of course partly true a good fuck of a slave was an easy release of some needs or when they did their chores as polishing boots was quite easy to have around.
Serpent stands up (rl) Speak with crow when he has time for you.. till then.. have a drink.. it may be your last’
Ayasha Catteneo glances up before tilting her head, pressing her soft lips against the lower side of the bowl before offering it up once more to him, her arms visibly trembling in her effort to keep from spilling a drop of the clear liquid.
Crow reaches for the bowl and takes it to his lips while his cold eyes never break eye contact with the man before him.
DarkSyns Magic nibbling on the end of the writing stick she concentrates at the task at hand wondering how the Killer ever kept things organized. Clicking her tongue she furrows her brow and pours over the work.
Chaos Narstrom: sits down and now his attention is focused on the men before him and the women….his eyes breifly move over her….seeing her and laughing softly…the women obvioulsy was more fit as a slave then as a free.
Dante Juriya nods, but reverses the statement back on him, “Then I shall return when these ties are severed. But by eliminate, do you mean kill?”
Chaos Narstrom: then casting a quick glace at the lady writing…….all the while listening..
Crow arches a brow “That is on you to deside … however we do test it during training. We aren’t known to trust on just a word.” he replied after taking a sip “Perhaps you should think why we ask this of any candidate ?”
Suyuan Quan swallowed a mouthful of saliva as Crow stepped towards them and she huddled behind Dante. She knew what they were capable of and for a moment she was brought back to a memory of when she begged a scarlet for her life when she was slave. She peered over at Dante briefly before she spoke dryly towards Crow, “Our Free Companionship has dissolved. It is over. If he wishes to pledge; he’ll never see me again.”
Chaos Narstrom: glancing down..”kalana slave”
Ayasha Catteneo glances up, then nods as she steps back and turns to head for the kitchen “right away Master..”
Dante Juriya nods rubbing his chin while he thought once more, “One whome treads in the shadows should not be recognized by anyone.” He nodded, content with his answer, but decided to add on to it, “In times of kill, this would compromise the whole operation.”
Fang watchs as the women, clearly in edge as she sould be, as her life at this moment was to be taken from her by the fellows own hand, still he stands and waits. uncaring, and ready to end then 2 of them should be be tlod to by the killer.
Crow steps closer with the swiftness of a killer, his hand shoot to her neck trying to get grip and grabbing her close to his own body. His other hand trying to catch her wrists. “His past can’t be resolved by an end of a contract … lady.” he said to her in this edged voice.
Chaos Narstrom: mutters to himself….”nice to see he has her permission.”
Ayasha Catteneo curls back down with the grace of a dancer trained, a goblet of the deep red wine held in both small hands. She glances up as she presses it to her belly, offering it up to him and bowing her head low “your kalana Master…”
DarkSyns Magic hearing the man across from her she bit down on her bottom lip to stop a guffaw that threatened to spill. Clearing her throat she works on the scrolls but is no half listening to the group behind her
Chaos Narstrom: reaches down and takes the goblet from her and then lifts it to his nose and inhales the bouquet of the wine…then sits the goblet on the table in front of him. “well served girl…you may continue on.”
Ayasha Catteneo peeks up as her hands lower back to her thighs, watching him then murmuring softly “thank you Master..”
Ayasha Catteneo moves finally to the Mistress, kneeling beside her chair before peeking up “may I serve you Mistress?”
Suyuan Quan grunted as his hand wrapped about her throat and compressed slightly and she flailed with surprise as his other discovered her wrists and pinioned them. She ceased struggling as her petite body was pressed against his and she gurgled a soft, yet strained reply as she began to shudder, “Is it… it only about his past?”
DarkSyns Magic looks down at the slave remembering her from two eves ago. Hazel eyes flicker a moment,” Some tea would be lovely girl” smiles down at her
Ayasha Catteneo gives the Mistress a shy smile “right away Mistress..”
Crow kept her in this strong grip “past can tell lots about someones character …lady.” he said to her while brushing his lips against her ear while keeping a close observation to the man.
Ayasha Catteneo returns with a cup full of the steaming amber tea, her small hands cradling it as she offers it up “your tea Mistress.. lightly sweetened as you had it before..”
Dante Juriya let him do his dealings with her. He knew better then to mess with an assassin. He simply tuned out the noise to show that he had no attachment to the woman, when really, he regarded her as a fried whome he didn’t want to see harmed.
DarkSyns Magic looking down at the pretty slave with the creamy alabaster skin she imagines she didnt get out much. Gloved hands carefully take the cup from the girl. Setting it far away from her scrolls as no accidents could happen she looks back at her.” Well served thank you, please continue”
Ayasha Catteneo bows her head, blushing faintly before backing away “thank you Mistress..”
Crow kept her strongly against him “he trailed with his left hand that released her neck along the curve of her cheek to her shoulder, perhaps a way he would when holding a slave to soften her up to him. He had his way with women he was told. Still he kept his eyes upon the man, surely if there was an attachment he would feel anger for holding the woman this close to him. His touch was gentle even tender eventhough within the blink of an eye he could slit her throat the push on the wristblade would do it instantly.
Dante Juriya only cleared his throat as the man touch Su tenderly. He had never done anything more then a friendly hug shared between them. He had avoided becoming attached to any soul for reasons of reserving himself until his interest was sparked.
Suyuan Quan’s thickened lashes brushes against her cheeks and he released her, the flimsy fabric of the rep-cloth peasant veil descended revealing the overall comeliness of her features. She was conflicted and her first instinct was to turn away but he still held her wrists taut. Her honey-brown eyes glazed as her busom simply elevated with a frustrated sigh.
Fang feels the hilt of the overly large Dagger he had found sticking in his thigh a while aback, the one the Kur had been Kind enough to sheight there, and feels its coolness as his fingers bruch it absentmindly as his blue eyes coldly watched the fellow. its nearness to his hand intended as he listend, watched and waited
Crow narrows his eyes when the man cleared his throat something was up, eventhough he would have to guess what it was. He released her after pressing a kiss against the curve of her neck … he grins while he regards the man “I think there is a little moment of …. perhaps considering your options ?” he asks although it was far more than a question perhaps more a suggestion.
DarkSyns Magic picking up the cup of tea with one hand she sets the writing stick down. The other carefully moves the veils to the side as she takes a small sip. The tea was hot and sweet yet it did nothing to warm her. She could only imagine the woman’s feelings behind her.
Alana Quicksand slips up quietly…falling to her knees looking about, listening, finally softly whispers, “greetings Masters, Mistress….kajira” in a voice so soft it is barely above a whisper
Dante Juriya shakes his head “The cold seems to mess with me lungs at times.” He chuckled, returning the grin and showing no signs of fear, anger, or sadness showing at any part in his tone, in his eyes, or on his face.
Suyuan Quan retreated from Crow reflexively just after he released her, not even bothering to gather up the discarded veil and she situated herself back by Dante’s side. She glowered the killer and she cast another glare to her so-called ‘friend’ as she folded her arms about her torso, “Please just hurry up so I can have an escort back to Salernum. After that, we’ll don’t have to speak again.”
Crow kept his looks lifeless while he slowly turned to the woman “hmmm ” he muses when he licked his lips as if he wanted to memorize the taste of her flesh on them. “When you wish to pledge to my caste be sure that you come alone, ready for something more cruel than you have ever witnessed.” he said to him “Perhaps we meet in Salernum … I will be watching you …” he promises.
Suyuan Quan grimaces towards Crow, nearly as if she could sense what he was thinking and she shook her head vigorously, “No.” Was all she replied.
Crow flicks his eyes back to her “No?” he replied almost mockingly “Don’t challange me … woman.” he adds while he again licks his lips “You see … this isn’t your home … and I doubt this man will come to you rescue even if I so much would try to get you down on your knees.” he grins viciously “You might even enjoy it ..” he said showing some sort of black sense of humor …
Alana Quicksand crawls to the Master’s heel, just behind incase he has any needs, but out of the way should he need room, though it appearred the situation was well in hand…hearing the Master’s mocking tone, she remains silent so as not to incur his wrath…he woujld know she is eager to serve, no need to interupt just to say it…she takes the time to study the features of those visitors that dared to make their way to the Inn
Toinette Levee stomps the snow off her boots at the door. Giving her hair and cloak a little shake, to get rid of the falling snow, she steps in to the warmth of the tavern. Shivering a bit, even in the new warmth, she steps in, hoping for a kal-da…
Dante Juriya looks to Su and then nods to the killer, “When ye watch in view, ye might drop a Tal.” He chuckled and turned towards the door, “I ‘ave a lot of ties to sever, then.” He nodded to the group as a whole this time, “Might we be headingout now?”
Chaos Narstrom: looking back over his shoulder…..”girl….a goblet of cool water….”
Crow arches a brow seeing the woman enter, he gives her a quick nod before turning to Dante “Before you go … tell me your name.” he demanded
Toinette Levee nods and offers a soft “Tal” to all those that are gathered around. Normally quite chatty, she get’s a bit quiet when she is faced with so many at once. Making her way quietly across the room to the fire, she thinks to just warm herself.
Fang watchs as a lady enters the building and nods to her as she stomps the snow from her bots and again watchs the man who thinks the Killer would be a.. social travler willing to just make words for no reason
Ayasha Catteneo peeks over as she hears the Master, bowing her head then turning for the kitchen to fetch his water.
Dante Juriya shrugs, “Me mother named me Dante. Ye may call me what you will.” He nodded, for he knew they would likely find many ways to demean him, to break him if he were to make it into the first week.
Ayasha Catteneo returns with a large goblet, the water inside it sparkling clear. She presses the goblet against her belly, offering it up to the Master with her head bowed “your water Master..”
Suyuan Quan again shook her head at Crow as she cast a furtive glance towards Dante, “Already I am beginning to wish I didn’t know you.” She stated coldly.
Chaos Narstrom: reaches down for the water and takes if from her….reaches out with his other hand and then runs his fingers through her hair…”thank you girl”
Chaos Narstrom: the full goblet of kalan in front of him still…he lifts the goblet of water to his lips and drinks deeply.
Ayasha Catteneo starts to lower her hands then shivers as his touch sends a chill along her spine, a blush rising in her cheeks “you are most welcome Master..”
Crow nods “Dante … ” he echo’s memorizing the name and the mans features. “I am Crow.” he gave his given name one that perhaps showed what kind of killer he was. After all the name was often a small reference to character. “I wish you both well.” he said knowing they were about to leave. The wish hardly fitted the voice he used. It was perhaps a first test to see if the man really was up to it … scaring them was after all a first border they needed to cross.
An Assassin looks at the fellows face closly, remembering it, noring the brand of the theif on his cheak and still stands ready as he watchs the man and the soon to be dead women.
Toinette Levee pulls her cloak off, and leaves it by the chair at the fire, to dry a bit, the snow having melted some in the fur. Walking quietly to near by chair, she sinks in with a moan of pleasure, a little tired from the travels. Her eyes on all in the room, she takes in the atmosphere… seeing things a bit tense, she leaves off the looking for a hot kal-da for the time being.
Dante Juriya chuckled, having weaved in and out of death in his life. Fear was not an obstacle for him until he faced death, no other time. “And ye be well, Crow.” He nodded to the rest of the killers and turned to leave.
Suyuan Quan rolled her eyes as she simply followed him suit.
Crow nods while he moves silently to the table snapping his fingers while he discarded his cloak and handing it to the fastest slave. “Tal.” he said to the lad and the seeker “Still dressed I see.” he said to
Chaos … giving a slight smirk while regarding some slaves.
Alana Quicksand flicks her glance up to the man quietly from under thick lashes wiggling on her heels…running to catch the cloak as it floats inher direction
Chaos Narstrom: “I am for the moment I imagine.”
Alana Quicksand gathers up the fold of the cloak, brushing the snow from the fabric as she quietly offers, “May i find something for you Master?”
Chaos Narstrom: sets the goblet of wateron the table as he stands….his eyes now locked on Crow as he approached him.
DarkSyns Magic perfectly arched eyebrow lifts hearing that, she forces her eyes to remain on the scrolls
Crow nods while his eyes take the mans shape in consideration “Indeed … not the best season for applying but I heard your conversation with the killer … hmmm the Master Assassin even.” he said giving a grin.
Suyuan Quan hissed sharply at him as they departed the inn, “Well, I helped you. I don’t need you getting back to Salernum.”
Suyuan Quan shook her head sadly, “And to think… to think that I assumed you were different…”
…They return to Salernum…
Suyuan Quan shook her head at him as they departed the ship and she ambled past him in a hurried fashion, fuming as she reached the cobbles, “Remember what he said, no more attachments. Well, finish up what you have here and we can part ways.”
Dante Juriya sighs as she fumes hurrying to catch up with her, “Ye take things too seriously!” He grins and puts a hand on her shoulder, ” We need to be more aware of things. I don’t want to lose ya.” He whispered these words into her ear, eyes scanning every which direction to catch a glimpse of the eyes which could be watching him.
Suyuan Quan again she felt her throat burn as that hand halted her and she spun about, discarding his hand. Her amber-like eyes offered the glimpse of the tears that would soon be steadily flowing down her cheeks, “You only used me to get to them. I should have known. Good job. I got felt up and threatened by a Black Caste after saving your ass.” She attempted to push him away as she lowered her voice, sotto voce in a similar whisper, “You should have thought of that before you pledged.”
Dante Juriya sighs, gripping her tighter, and pulling her into his body so that he could whisper into her ear easier, “I had to the assassin what he wanted to hear.” He sighed and pulled back, looking her in the eyes. As a tear fled from her eye he placed his index finger just below it and caught the salty discharge on his skin. He looked at her for longer, just letting the silence build between them, then he spoke, “I’m sorry….”
Suyuan Quan attempted to resist his advances but it was being Gor, he proved to be too strong for her and she simply stood there as he held her fiercely in his embrace. She flinched as he extracted the tear from her cheek and she performed the same shaking head gesture towards him; her voice still ushering in lowered tones, “I was an idiot to begin caring for you… perhaps even begin to love you a little. What if he killed me? What if he enslaved me? Bah, it doesn’t matter now. Let me go, Dante.”
——
Present Day The night passed as expected while the physician watched over her. Despite his earlier intentions of possibly euthanizing her had dispelled that idea and he worked diligently to make her better. Some nightmares were persistent while others seemed to subside into an emptiness that was similar to the Cities of Dust.
By the end of the hand, she regained consciousness and a clarity that was tangible. But, her thoughts, now absent of the delirium remained focused on the sole person she had sought out at the beginning of her illness. “Crow…”
Crow watched the physician intently when he again turned to the Peacock. He stepped back, uncertain for that moment. How tormented she seemed and how powerless it made him feel. The mere thought of this young woman that had struggled her way through life and eventually had put herself in his arms, regardless if it were a conscious decision, made him uncomfortable. He was relieved that the physician didn’t look at him. Would he have read the puzzlement on his face ?
Crow turned away when eventually the Peacock was put to this sleep by the sedative. He studied, without truly seeing a painting on the wall that showed the insides of a humanbody. Some of it he had seen when he had stabbed a man or when he was still a young Tarnsman by those trainees that fell down from their Tarn. The insides would be splattered on the cobblestones and the sight was horrifying. Some of these young men were still alive and tried desperate gather them as if they had known that the parts that had come out would be needed to survive. For a moment he pondered if any of them had. He couldn’t remember.
When the physician spoke about the mark he arched a brow and turned to the man “She was a bitter woman at one time. I could only guess that her stubbornness and her ongoing battle with unseen demons might have caused her to cut herself.” He remarked again in that tone that showed no care or warmth. “She was once owned by a merchant. A well respected woman I might add. I don’t know what happened as to why the woman disposed of her. But I know the girl was bitter and broken by it.” Crow turned to the painting again, as if the memories of blood and death could keep his disguise of being unbothered by whatever would happen to the girl. “But if you wish to examine her further, you have my permission.” He stated, leaving out the fact that he held no legit bond with the girl. Not that he couldn’t make one, by simply collecting a piece of rope and tangle it around her throat as this gesture of claiming her.
Crow glances to the Peacock and again wondered about her. There were so many moments were they had met. The rage she had held for him, simply because her lover hadn’t made it in training was one that sprung to mind. How fierce she had looked when she had faced him. He had been patient with her then, while he wouldn’t have with many others. Why was this ?, he asked himself. Still he hadn’t been easy for her, hardly even. He had made her run around a tree to pay off a certain death by her arrogance when she had spoken to him in Ar. Still she was here – barely alive – but still breathing.
Crow only shook his head at the proposition to kill her. “Lifes are very easy sold, Physician.” He said mysteriously “Believe me – I know.” He added. “You can examine her and see how she will come out of this. Your efforts will be compensated.” Crow had too often seen clients with their pitty reasons for killing of the competition, throw their gold as if he without thinking would take it out this greed. How wrong they were when it came to him. How well he had hidden what he truly was. He was a killer, but with reason and unlike many others of his Caste not for the reason of Gold. Still he had accepted gold for causes that might seem odd, but he had this view about the world he lived in and some of the contracts had seem to fit in it. He was skilled in what he did, like a Chameleon he could adjust to situations and even set them to his hand.
When the Physician left the room he stepped towards the cot where the Peacock was now sleeping. A gentle brush of his hand to brush down her hair from her face. Like porcelain she seemed to be, so fragile. He looked down on her face as if to memorize it, for all he knew she could be facing him the next time with rage, fierceness, bitterness or any emotion that showed her dark side. He wondered what he would see if she could let go of all her masks, would she be beautiful ? He knew that the Peacock could be beautiful, however did she know how ? Crow gave little thought to his own masks or disguises, that held his true nature far from light and view. Perhaps he was like a coyote on Earth. A deceiver but not with the intent to lie, but simply because he himself believed in what he told or showed.
The Physician returned and asked if Crow wished to remain while he would continue his examination. Crow simply shook his head “I have taken her here in trust you will do what is needed. When you have need of me, I will remain in the Inn. A messenger there will have me here in no – time.” He said again in a manner that made the Physician ponder. Crow could read it on his face and said “She is only a slave – Physician. But with it one I have obtained with reason.” The last perhaps enough to satisfy the mans curiosity before he would try to find his answers somewhere else. “And again, Physician, I do count upon your discretion.” The last was spoken in a tone that held no warmth only promise that if the man would fail his discretion a life might be taken for it.
The seizure had arrived just in the time for the physician to distribute a sedative to cease her violent trashing. Her fever had reached a peak that even threatened the very foundation of her immunity. Her tangled and matted black hair remained plastered to the duvet as her body ceased its seemingly impassible flailing. The white linens upon which she laid upon in her haphazardly supine disposition were drenched with the liquid salt expelled by her feverish body. Not only did her perspiration exude the minute tragedies of her life, but they seemed to obliterate the placid stoicism which she frantically clung to during her conscious moments. She was more vulnerable now than ever, particularly with her mind and soul meandering between the world of the living and its effervescent moments of human sorrows and joys to the simple, silent privileges of peace and tranquility that the Cities of Dust, or what the Pani labeled “purgatory” beheld. She had crossed that threshold, but death remained abashed and elusive. She sought it, but it refused to acknowledge her efforts. Death was like a man; taking whomever it wanted without discrimination and leaving behind the cries of the living who sought to bargain with it for the souls of the claimed. It was ironic that her life was momentarily preserved in the chance of a passing executioner – Crow. Or was it chance?
The physician was mild-mannered and rather gentle in his approach to the Pani woman; his countenance revealed a man who had a composed demeanor and a smooth, kindly face that revealed a speckling of blackheads across his nose and cheeks which resembled sprinkled pepper. The salt and pepper coloring of his could make one gauge he up in his age and his manner suggested that he might’ve been a doting, loving father or even a grandfather. The serums always kept one guessing as it rendered cellular aging obsolete. However, a pair of eyes suggested what type of person a human being usually was. She learned from an early age how a simple glance can reduce her to tears. Now, as Crow had assumed, she would fight tooth and nail to preserve her freedom… but her life? Had she not attempted to end it prior at the cliffs before the arrival of the “black bird”?
The physician, whom Yurei would have determined was mild-mannered and kind, inspected her with a detached and clinical countenance: he checked her pulse, opened her eyes as he had a candle produced before her then to discern pupil response. He performed a cursory examination before rising from the side of the bed and a slender, fair-haired kajira adjusted the coverlet and tucked her like a mother to child. The dreams had subsided as the sedative quelled the vexatious visions and silencing the noisy ghosts of a sordid past which was both troublesome and unchangeable.
“I had hoped she was well enough, though it seems she isn’t. But… the worst is over. A seizure can occur at times if a fever is high enough.” He pivoted and strode towards his humble desk which was cluttered with diagrams of the human physiognomy. The man not only seemed to perform well in his profession, but his profound dedication to self-education displayed in the dark circles around his eyes. “I had brought you in here because I intended to examine her body and I realize most owners wish to be present for that.” He settled down heavily and sighed while the candlelight cast writhing shadows across the room as they resembled tree branches dispersing towards a summer sky. Oddly enough, the shadows fluttered around Yurei’s sleeping form like the flapping wings of a bird. It performed the same for the stern and aloof assassin who had remained with her even through her ordeal.
“The area of where her brand is has been… cut out? That’s the best way to state it.” He lifted himself from the chair as he created distance between them as he approached Yurei and gently lifted the blanket to expose her upper thigh. Indeed, he had spoken truth; where the “kef” that Eve had branded into her flesh so long had been replaced by thickened, raised scar tissue that revealed crude knife marks which seemed to be done in haste. Her pale-tan skin which hinted a creamy yellowish-pink undertone provided a startling contrast to the ugly, savage marks that had intended to blemish her true identity to most men. It was foolish and stupid for a woman to depreciate her own beauty… but it was a brave, silent protest which few, if any dared to do – ruin the markers of which men placed upon them. It was her declaration to any and all who decided to enslave her of the lengths that she would go to secure her freedom.
“I assume she is recent acquisition to you; though, it looks as if she might prove difficult. I have only witnessed few instances of panther women mutilating themselves to deter captors. They usually don’t last very long within the collar. If this has dismayed you, I can always euthanize her. She is pretty, but far too scarred and perhaps too wild to tame and conquer, Killer.”
The physician had assumed Yurei belonged to Crow; but who wouldn’t consider that he brought her in? The physician didn’t prod any further but waited with anticipation for Crow’s response.
Crow listened and stood there as this power of force, but truly heard what the physician said. It was important to learn what someone was telling. More often than not, one could hear hidden thoughts between words and with it gained knowledge that could be fruitful when used properly. He didn’t nod, nor gave any indication that the words meant something to him, perhaps because of the awareness that even the Physician could be bribed, tortured for knowledge about him. There were to many that would dance on his pyre if he came to an end. Who would blame them ? He was only a killer now.
Perhaps his fear would be unfounded, the woman only a slave and what would her words be of worth. Still he was certain that even words of a slave could put a man before the gates of the city of dust. He had number of stories when it came to this. Many were shared by the campfire too young recruits that would be beaten into the killers, they needed to become. He often had wondered why some believed there was some honour in his caste. Why they felt this inner urge to spill blood over a that bit of gold and yet he himself was one example. A man that had been disappointed by life and wished to cheat the Reaper of Death. If he had only given it more thought then, he might have been there for his daughter and Anna which now had to give birth to a child that had been conceived by the rape of his last victim.
Crow turned his face to the physician when he mentioned the scars. “In truth I did not know, but I have to meet a slave or woman that carries none.” He said as if unbothered by them and keeping his detached appearance. In all these years it had become this shield of coldness, which had become thicker by the years. How could a killer truly survive if he would start to care, it was the ruthless thought of being unbothered by whomevers life was paid for. When the physician went out of sight he looked at his own hands that were able to commit murder and yet these had carried the wounded peacock to here. “Why?” he mused to himself fully aware that life had its own tricks and treats without any legit explanation. However the mentioning of the scars was taken to mind, perhaps in his mind it made sense as to how she had become the bitter peacock he once met. How would one endure pain and not have a way to answer it, find a way to secure oneself for not happening it again. Was her bitterness a wall to hide behind ? Was her elusive way of being, a mask that hid her true heartdesire ?
The words that were shared, were known to him. He couldn’t quite remember who had taught him the words or their meaning. Still he knew them and gave him the understanding that he hadn’t found her by accident. Perhaps the higher powers that some barbarian slaves talked bout did exist or again the wheel of his life wasn’t easy to comprehend. Either way he knew that the name he once was given was significant to the girl and perhaps if they were able to share information he might learn as to why.
The story of dark clad men, fully disguised and as the wind swift, calculated and more importantly of an iron state of mind weren’t the killers of today. They were perhaps better, more in touch with what they were and what they were able of. He once heard a story about a man that could catch arrows while blindfolded simply because he was able to hear them and turn to it without having to see it. He wondered for a brief moment if he would be able, but such needed trust and at the present he was quite sure that he didn’t have that trust in his own abilities.
He looked at the physician that seemed to wait on an explanation as to the words the girl had spoken in her delirium. “I doubt the meaning of the words would help her get well, Physician.” He replied as to warn the man “I didn’t pay you for hearing her out while she is in this state. I simply pay you to treat her so she can serve as to what she is – a slave.” His voice held nothing of his thoughts or emotions. He wouldn’t share his own concerns, thoughts or puzzles to the man, just as he wouldn’t do it with anyone but those very few he trusted. Even those could be seen as a blemish to what his caste brothers so often spoke of : Alone with Gold and Steel.
When the Physician walked off he wondered what T. would say, one of his most trusted comrades. There were a few select others but they were hardly the ones he would share thoughts with when it came to the more philosophic thoughts or puzzles life brought him. T. would perhaps just as much as he, desire to look further, fearless for what one might needed to face. “A fire, a crow and the dark fighter have a connection to the peacock, but what ?” he silently asked himself.
He looked up when he was summoned and waved his hand gallantly to the physician. “Lead.” He simply stated when he spied the curious look of the man upon his manners. He knew that the mere gesture of his hand might have betrayed his high caste origins but it didn’t matter anymore as in the present he was the low caste killer, called Crow.
When next to the bed he instantly noticed that she hadn’t slept calm or tranquil, she herself seemed to be haunted by demons in her unconscious or restless sleep. The white of the sheets in so much contrast with the black of her hair or the taint of her skin. How helpless she seemed and yet he knew that she would still give a powerful struggle if anyone dared to end her life. He was certain that in her dreams she was like him and wondered what would have happened to her if she had been born a boy. He didn’t speak, tried hard to keep his face unreadable while he waited – patiently – as ever for what the physician wished to address.
“Well Killer… it seems that your discovery is going to live. You brought her here just in time as she was near death. Her fever has broken for the time being and her condition has stabilized for now. Though, she still suffers from delirium and she continues muttering in this strange tongue which I can’t discern. Thankfully, she is now resting at the moment. Though, I would recommend that she remain here for sometime. My examination of her revealed that she is malnourished and…” The physician lowered his voice slightly, reserving his low, hushed tone for the assassin as he was uncertain if the Pani woman in the adjacent room was asleep or not, “Were you aware of the extensive scarring of her body?” The physician continued to wipe his hands in the rep-cloth and set it aside the basin. His countenance was calm, but he seemed fidgety within the presence of the darkly attired man. Who could blame him, knowing the notoriety that was quintessential with the black caste? Yurei laid in, for what would be the first time in months, a warm bed with clean sheets. The change in her usual sleeping arrangement elicited discomfort, evidenced by her tormented tossing and turning, left her utterly restless. But, she wasn’t agitated simply by her arrangements, though that was only part of it. It was the unsettling dreams which refused her consolation, even in her comfortable setting. She was gradually beginning to discover that the past was not something one could easily leave behind.
——
It was the frightened shriek which assaulted her ears that caused her to abruptly awaken. The little Pani girl, now aged ten, jolted upright in her bed and allowed her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. She remembered how difficult it was for her to adjust to a mattress instead of a futon and the adjustment period which had followed it. The coiled springs of non-Pani mattresses just could not compare to the bean and buckwheat filled quilts of the pleasure house. How luxurious and cozy they were, compared to the white Karian slaver’s gifts and kindnesses which she never quite became inured too. It had been three years since Lord Nishida sold her mother’s contract to the Karian slaver. The cruel and often nettlesome memory remained emblazoned in her mind’s eye: the very men who were assigned to guard her and her mother turned around and snatched her and her mother away from their collective home like namahage monsters. Suyuan had been cosseted, doted upon, but still expected to maintain honor and decorum; especially when it pertained to men. She was expected to revere them… and whoever owned her mother’s contract. The Karian slaver was now her father, refuge, and from it seemed to be… her irrefutable face. His face was something she could never forget – ruddy, deeply-lined and leathery like the tarn saddles she used to observe being made in the tarn camp. His hair was close-clopped and resembled overnight snow distributed on the earth. In each ear, he sported two gold rings which mesmerized her as she had only witnessed earrings on collar-girls. His gaze was nearly a sneer of cruel intelligence and power, even though he dealt with the Pani girl very kindly and almost paternally. There was something about the white man which elicited a frisson at times; especially when he regarded her. When he looked at her, a bit of her innocence shriveled up and expired. These were moments when she pleaded with him to see her mother and many times he firmly denied her. Even in her present adulthood, she still had difficulty pronouncing his name… something S… Sam…? Smoke curtailed into the small room through the narrow slit just beneath her door and she commenced to cough and sputter quite violently, causing her to violently trash and flail about the bed which hollowed out into the present.
——
Her cracked and calloused hands gripped the sheets until her knuckles became a faint shade of white, resonating into the other room as scene played repetitively in her mind. The smoke, the fire, and her mother finding her in her bed violently coughing. She had led her to an alleyway and quickly dressed her as a she-urt and the final words which would be her legacy. “You are free… 1,000 times above me and all the more. I would rather see you die on the streets as an orphan, begging for scraps of food as opposed to living the privileged life of a collar-girl… a kajira as these white men call them. This is now your fate… only Amaterasu or the Priest-King gods can determine your destiny now. Remember that you will always have fate, but not always destiny.” She grasped the sheet as perspiration formed on her forehead and her fever began to resume. What exactly had her mother meant? Weren’t fate and destiny interwoven? Her mother was stern, insightful, clever, and most of all obedient. Suyuan had remained second to and in her mother’s shadow for the duration of her life. She was the ideal contact women… that is, until her mother’s secrets were discovered and both mother and daughter paid dearly for the mistakes. Enslavement seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back and the love that she was deprived of in the tarn camp finalized in the moment when her mother smuggled her out of the slaver house… risking her own life to ensure that her daughter could have the opportunity that Mizumi never dare risk for herself except for one being she loved most in the world.
——
Yurei continued to grunt in her discomfort just as the physician heard her unsteady and fragile voice strain for volume.
“She keeps repeating these two words… tengu-karasu. Do you have any idea what that means, Killer?” The physician affixed his concerned gaze upon the assassin, baffled by the foreign words. “She also continues to repeat the words and names, ‘Crow’, ‘my black-bird’, and ‘Ama… Ama… te… ra.. su. She is delirious, but do you know who or what she is referring to? I hear her, I should check upon her as it seems her condition has worsened.”
A few moments later, he emerged.
Crows Murder 