Symphony of Storms

The only time it got darker in Asmodae was at night.

Many knew better than to walk the streets alone after the darkest part of night fell. Daeva and human alike. It didn't matter to those who wandered in the dark. They would attack you. They wouldn't show mercy.

The Shedim Lords had graced this night with a warm breeze and a clear sky. The residual glow from the shattered tower cast dark shadows between the homes and mansions in Vanahal. The lights of Elysea up above marked the sky with coloured patterns. A beautiful sight for anyone with the perfect view.

In this dark a figure clad in black melted and became the shadows that pooled into the crevaces of rooftops and balconies. Silent and stealthy, their target was an open window set behind a barred balcony. They were no more acrobatic than needed, slipping onto the balcony and disappearing once again into the shadows that moved into the bedroom.

Within the room lay the true target. A larger, old man, fast asleep in his bed, completely unaware to the danger that lay in the shadows of his room.

The night creature moved toward the bed, cloaked by the shadows. The ambient light from the window illuminated the sharp blade of a knife as it appeared out of the dark. A pair of crimson eyes looked down on the man, and without a hint of hesitation, the creature struck. The blade disappeared deep into the man's chest, then twisted, ensuring he wouldn't wake from his slumber and alert anyone nearby. He passed in silence, and when the blade was removed, it was immediately wrapped in a black cloth and quickly stashed back into the dark.

The crimson eyes, glazed with contempt, disappeared once more into the shadows, as did the creature, slipping away from the bed and back to the window. Using the guard of the shadows cast by the tower, they returned to the rooftops, hiding among the pools of black as they made their way back to their home somewhere within the city.

The entire city was encased in shadows on this night. The view to Elysea blocked by thick clouds, and the light from the tower barely piercing through to the Asmodian capital of Pandaemonium.

On this night, not even the smallest of creatures dared to be out. The clouds had opened up to drop cold rain onto the city below, and anyone with a proper mind had sought to keep their homes free from the rain.

This made the target for the night creature far more difficult to capture. The creature had to plan around the rain, and on this night luck struck in the form of their target's desire to listen to the rain as they fell asleep. When the windows were drawn open, the night creature, cloaked in a curtain of aether, disguised itself as no more than a passing wind, easily gaining access to the bedroom and seeking refuge in the dark shadows in the corner of the room.

The creature had only to wait now. Tonight's target was not one, but two. An older couple who had gained their wealth through investing in the Temple of Gold. The creature waited for them to fall asleep, listening for the telltale signs of a deeper slumber before they moved from the corner.

Killing two was far more tricky than killing one. If one of these two were to wake, they could alert anyone else within the household, and the creature would have to retreat. Tonight, the creature relied on poison. The man slept with his mouth open, and it was easier to pour half of the small vial down his throat. However for the woman, the creature once more had to wait. Just before they started to pour the liquid down the woman's throat, the creature could hear the last breath being exhaled from the man.

After the vial was safely tucked back away into the black of their outfit, the creature removed themself from the room, leaving the windows open and climbing down into the alley between this house and the next, hiding within the shadows to safely make their retreat.

Two more names scratched from the list.

The fourth victim of the night creature came days after their last.

This night was blessed. The clear sky displayed the lights of Elysea overhead. The shattered tower shone bright, and there were many inky pools of shadows for the creature to hide in.

This night, the target was an older woman. A woman known for her strong clutch on her family, her stern words, and her dislike for anyone lower than the noble class. A matriach to the Kedun family, who had long withheld a high place among the nobles of Asmodae. A person the night creature might even have respected, had the woman not given into a terrible, sinful temptation.

The woman appeared to dislike the warm breeze the night had to offer, or was taking necessary precautions after hearing of the other three assassinations. Her window was locked, but that wouldn't keep the night creature out.

A thin piece of metal, pushed in just the right directions, would gain the night creature access to this woman's boudoir. The woman, however, was in the adjoining bathroom at the time of entry. Cloaked in a curtain of aether, the window was drawn shut again so as not to raise suspicion, and the night creature settled itself into the dark of the room.

The creature waited into the night, patient and still. This kill would certainly draw more attention to the happenings in Vanahal, especially among the nobles, and nothing could go wrong tonight. When it was clear that the woman was asleep, the night creature lifted up out of the shadows, their movements silent and careful as they made their way to the bed.

A dagger was drawn from the hip, and the creature stood at full height next to the bed. Their eyes ghosted over the woman's face, glazed with contempt and disgust. This woman was strong, respected, but for her wrongs, she had to be punished. The blade of the dagger was driven deep into the chest of the woman, and quickly twisted. There was a gasp from the woman's lips, and then a final exhale. The blade was removed, and wrapped in cloth immediately, just as the first execution.

The night creature wasted no time and left through the window, cloaking themself in a curtain of aether as the window was pulled shut behind them. They leapt from the sil, landing silent on the ground and dismissing the cloak as they passed into a dark alley.

The nobles of Vanahal had much to worry about, and many would take the effort to up their security, fearing they were next in this seemingly random assassination spree. As their luck would have it, the night creature seemed to disappear completely, and the assassinations stopped, as if the creature had been caught, or their attention had been drawn to something else.

Lucky for the night creature, this long pause in activity made the nobles believe they were safe once more from a madman. The nobles would be shown that no one is safe.

Four names were scratched from the list; the fifth will be a Daeva.

The night creature's passion was renewed before it would strike again, weeks after the last attack. The nobles drew down their guard in that time of peace, making it an opportune night for the creature to make it's return.

This night was as dark as any other, providing the familiar pools of darkness the night creature would use to skulk about the rooftops of Vanahal. However during the day it had rained, and the rooftops were also slippery. Fog had settled into the pools as well, and over the ground, which would make a completely invisible getaway nearly impossible. Just nearly.

The creature hadn't expected fog, but they would work with it and use it to their advantage.

As this target was a Daeva, the creature took extra care in ensuring they wouldn't wake and attack, and so waited well into the night, when they would be home and resting in bed. The creature managed to open the window silently, and immediately lowered themself to the floor, cloaked in a curtain of aether as they snuck across the floor.

There were no weapons tonight. No weapons could kill a Daeva permanently. No, not unless they were coated in the substance called drana, and even then... there was a chance they would survive. The night creature wanted to eliminate this chance of survival, and procured a pure liquid form of drana, carried safely in a pouch at their waist. One concentrated dose would be enough to kill the target.

The creature sat silently next to the bed, drawing out the dark-coloured vial and slowly twisting the cork out the top. What the creature did not expect, however, were the fumes that suddenly wafted up into air. The creature accidentally inhaled these fumes into their mouth, and instantly had to clamp their mouth shut. They could feel the drana fumes making their way into the creature's lungs, but they were too close now not to finish.

It took a lot of effort not to cough and hack, holding their breath as they finally stood, pouring the liquid drana into the target's mouth. The creature quickly curtained themself with aether, seeing the target choking on the liquid poison, and made their way out of the window as fast as they could, while still remaining undetectable.

With the vial tucked back into the pouch, the night creature settled into a pool of shadows atop the roofs of Vanahal. They removed the lower part of their mask, revealing red lips, and tried to breathe fresh air into their lungs, but the drana fumes were already settling. The creature slunk down from the rooftops, keeping a hand firmly over their mouth as they snuck down the steps to leave Vanahal. They stumbled toward the end, all their energy focused on keeping themself from coughing and alerting anyone with the noble housing.

The creature was sure the fifth name could be crossed from the list, stumbling through the courtyard and finally letting themself cough. What the creature was not sure of, however, was how this darkly dressed man had gotten into their path.



In his Shadow Court Best, D'Artaegnan's ultimately friendly demeanor was concealed perfectly by the imposing black and red robes, finely tailored to his form. The mask he wore was an equal deterrent to any sliver of his sometimes whimsical and polite personality--a dark silver mask with one-sided red mirrors for eyes. He almost seemed like the perfect ornament on this foggy night, in the deadest hour.

He had been looking elsewhere when the coughing erupted, causing him to turn and attempt to locate the source of the sound. He placed a hand on the hilt of his mace, peering about. "Who's there?"

Hyacinthe's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. In the back of her mind, she was sure she'd heard it before, but as her eyes settled on the man ahead, all thoughts flew from her head. Anyone could plainly see that he was dressed in Shadow Court attire, and she could only curse her luck. The fog should've been her symbol to put off the kick for another night, but she had been foolish and acted.

One of her hands settled on her throat as she lowered head, openly coughing to the ground now. She knelt for a moment, still attempting to wash out the fumes and ache with fresh air, but when that provided little comfort and relief, she tried for hoisting herself up to stand her cloak of aether disappearing.

D'Artaegnan froze for a moment, before rushing to the creature. His hand was off of the hilt of his mace now, instead reaching out for her shoulders to stabilize her. He tore off his mask before his hands touched her, trying to get a good look at her face.

The shockingly red lips were a dead give away, paired with knowledge he gained only days ago. "You," he said, careful not to announce her name. If someone was watching, that was vital information that could jeopardize her. Of course, having unveiled himself this way was also a jeopardy to himself... but he would hope no one was watching anyway.

"Come on. I'm taking you somewhere to recover. Let me help..."

Hyacinthe stared at him for a long moment, at first she was sure she'd be locked up for good, but the moment D'Artaegnan unveiled himself, it was more disbelief.

She leaned against him, turning her head away to cough violently again, and she reached up to pull the rest of the mask off her head, explosing her hair. She was able to walk fine, once they started, only pausing now and again to cough.

"What..." She finally said. "Are you even... doing out here?"

D'Artaegnan led her along, pausing for her when she had to cough. He would sweep her up, but he was concerned that might only make her struggle more to breathe properly. He shook his head at her question, smiling gently. "Long story. We'll talk about what we were both doing out here once we're in my office."

The coast seemed perfectly clear for the duration of the short walk. When he came to his office door, located in a stretch of partial offices and places of both residency and work, he fiddled one-handedly with his keys. When the correct key was located, he pushed the door open and ushered her inside, releasing her slowly when he was sure she had enough footing to walk on her own, to turn and both close and lock the door.

The office was a very dim, orange lit office with dark walls and red carpet. The only sources of light came from a red lamp on the desk, two dim wall lanterns, also deep red, and the washroom. D'Artaegnan plucked a wine glass from his little display of glass finery, and went to the washroom. Pipes hissed and whistled when he started the sink--Shugo plumming at its finest. Not long after the sink was shut off, he emerged with a wine glass of clear liquid, offering it to Hyacinthe.

Her eyes remained on D'Artaegnan for most of the walk to the office, studying the man closely when she didn't have her head turned. She was thankful she hadn't ingested the stuff in any way, at least, feeling how only the fumes burned down her throat and into her lungs.

Released into the office, she immediately moved to the right hand wall, pulling her mask completely off the top of her head as D'Art went to fetch water. She tugged her black uniform down, unfastening the front to expose more of her throat and collarbone, and touched around her neck to ensure everything was perfectly normal. It was just fumes, but she could never be too careful.

She accepted the glass of water, taking a small testing sip so she knew she could swallow it, before gulping down another mouthful.

"So..." She looked to D'Art, lowering the glass, her breathing a little laboured. "...what were you doing?"

"You first. I think we have more of an immediate problem on our hands than what I was doing, mm?" He gestured to the bed again. "You should at least sit down. Is it poison?"

"Drana..." She muttered, moving over to the bed at his gesturing. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she straightened her back a little, trying to take a deep breath. "And you tell me why you were out there first."

"I was trying to catch someone sneaking out and about. Didn't expect to find you." He sounded distracted as he made his way over to a book shelf, clawing over each of the spines of the books as he searched for something. "Drana... Drana... Drana..."

"Stuff that kills Daeva..." Her eyes fell on his back, watching him intently despite her desire to try clearing her throat. "Who are you trying to find?"

He laughed at that. "I know what drana is. I'm just wondering if there isn't some literature in my arsenal that could alleviate your discomfort." With that, he paused and pulled out a book, turning to face the little assassin, and flipping it open. He seemed right at home, worming through books that way.

"That's classified for the time being. Let's see..."

Her expression was a little grumpy at that response, and she pushed herself back, leaning against the wall behind her while she sat on the bed. She took another sip from the glass, still occasionally clearing her throat, as if something was caught in the back of it that she couldn't quite get out. Her eyes continued to study him, scoffing quietly, then coughing as a result.

"How long is it classified for?"

"An indefinite period of time..." He folded the corner of the page he was on and set it upon his desk, before moving towards the bed, grabbing his chair and swinging it around to face it.

"Now then. Lay down, please." He peeled his gloves off calmly, folding them in his lap, then setting them aside again.

"All business tonight..." She looked for a place to set the glass, before setting it down on the bedside table. Carefully stretching out, she laid down on the edge of the bed closest to D'Art, her arms settled at her sides.

"Well, I can't be all play and no work..." he said, still with that small, friendly, signature smile on his lips. He cracked his knuckles noisily, then hovered his hands above the bottom of her rib cage.

A warm light emitted from his hands, as he began aetherically probing her lungs for any sign of distress. Slowly, and at an even pace, he moved his hands upwards, towards her throat. He went as far as letting one hand hover over her mouth, before he started back down.

"This... feels serious. Maybe we should get you to a better healer... Is there anyone you can trust?"

"Healers? No," She was silent and still as his hands hovered over her ribs, throat and mouth, turning her head to regard him after his hands moved back down.

"And if I were to ask someone, they would be suspicious of my activities."

"Then I have no choice..." He looked to her darkly now.

Her eyes narrowed on him in confusion, then her expression softened and looked up to the ceiling, "Turning me in?"

His expression then softened, and he smiled once more--a sharp contrast from his dark expression before. "No. You'll just have to stay here and let a mediocre cleric see to you."

She had to turn her head, the light laugh of amusement that came causing her to cough, "Which is worse? Prison, trial, and exection, or being helped by a mediocre cleric." Her tone was teasing, and she looked back to him. "I've just killed another Daeva. You're certain you want to help me?"

"Ah- Hush now. The less I know, in reality, the better off I'll be. I do need to know how you got traces of drana in to your lungs and airpath, though. Not all the grimey details... just where it came from."

She shifted a bit on the bed, opening a small pouch at her waist and drawing out the deep-purple coloured vial, now empty. Handing it over to him, she replied, "Opened the bottle, and the smell got me."

"Liquid drana..." He took the vial, frowning. "A little overkill, isn't it?"

"I don't exactly like to make... big messes," She smirked a bit, her eyes on the vial. "Carrying a drana-infused blade would be too dangerous for me."

"Much less of a risk to you, though," he mumbled, reaching out to touch her chin gently with his foreclaw. He pushed just enough to urge her to tilt her head back and expose her throat to him. "I assume I can't get what you inhaled out... But I can heal what you're going to continue to tear up as your body gets rid of it."

He rested his hand on her throat, still gentle. His hand was warmer than usual, alight with aetheric energy that would warm and soothe her throat for the time being. "I'll see if there's anything in that book that could teach me how to get it out of your system faster, later."

There was a pleasant hum in her throat when the healing soothed over the irritation and pain for now. "Less of a risk, to me? The Daeva could've come back, if I had only used a blade. The liquid drana... no chance."

Her eyes lifted to his face, "Later? No rush to get the scary woman out of your room?"

D'Artaegnan laughed a warm, hearty laugh, shaking his head. "Not scary. Only intimidating. And not so much right now."

"No rush to get the intimidating woman out, then?" She managed a smile of amusement, closing her eyes. "If I stood up and moved my hips in the slightest you'd run off."

He coughed at that. "If this is about your dance, I had a business call..." He lifted his hands away from her, taking the opportunity to rub at the back of his neck.

She peeked one eye open, "A business call? Tsk. And you dressed up so nicely, too." After enjoying the moment of rest, she pushed herself up, summoning her cube and starting to throw her mask and gloves inside.

D'Artaegnan watched her a moment, as a sort of awkward silence fell over them. He cleared his throat and stood, picking up the glass she used before, and heading back to the washroom.

Hya watched him go, her quiet laugh once again marred with light coughing. Standing up from the bed, she pulled her cloth shoes off, putting them away into the cube as well, before she took the moment to start stripping out of her suit.

D'Artaegnan came out of the washroom at that moment. He flinched so hard that he lost the glass, causing it to spill and shatter on the ground. His jaw might as well have gone after it. He spun around to face in to the washroom. "Cha-.... Changing?"

Casually glancing over her shoulder, Hyacinthe lifted an eyebrow, the suit barely to her waist, "I know you're intimidated, but c'mon... never seen a woman naked before?" He had his back turned, so at least he was mildly safe now, so she removed the rest of the suit, slipping it down off her hips and the rest of the way off. She rolled it up and tucked it away, pulling out a familiar button-down shirt to wear along with her underwear. Once it was on, she spoke again. "You're safe now."

The cleric peered over his shoulder, face blistering red. He laughed nervously, crouching to pick up the shards of glass from the ground. "Well, the last I saw a naked woman was... a while back. Normally I'm given a bit of warning."

"Daeje did describe you as... near virginal," She chuckled and coughed into her hand, dismissing her cube and settling on the edge of the bed again to watch him, her legs crossed.

"Near virginal? Oh that's hardly true. It's just been a long time." He crossed back to the wine rack and withdrew a second glass. "Though, compared to him, I suppose that's true enough."

"In comparison, I could nearly be considered virginal, despite my nine-hundred or so years on him," Something else seemed to come to her mind as she started to lay down on her side, and she started up another short mix of laughter and wheezing.

He entered the washroom as she spoke, and cam eout shortly later, to se eher hacking and coughing. He quickly moved to her side, offering her the glass, and touching her shoulder with his other hand.

She thanked him quietly, taking a sip, though she was clearly still amused. Exhaling a small sigh of relief, her eyes moved over his face, "You know it's really not a great idea to have me here, right?"

He smiled a bit at that. "I can't just throw you out on the street now, can I?"

"You're going to get in shit..." She smiled a bit herself. "Like... defending your own trial, if I get caught while I'm here."

"Well, I'm not going to do anything to sound the alarms. Are you?"

"If I left, I'd be suspicious..." She turned to settle onto her back, shifting to be comfortable. "Don't think I can even call Daeje."

"For now... don't." He smiled. "I'll take care of everything."

"Are you going to leave me here in the office?" She turned her head to regard him from her new position.

"I'm not going anywhere for a while." He leaned back. "So I suppose we'll just settle in."

"What side of the bed do you prefer, then?" She asked, awaiting more amusement.

He waved his hand dismissively. "I'll take the ground."

"Is that for your own personal, intimidated reasons, or are you trying to be chivalrous?"

"Would it be wrong to say that it's a little bit of both?" His smile turned a bit nervous.

"Don't play chivalrous with me. I appreciate your help, but... I'm not fragile," She pushed herself over to the other side of the bed, keeping the glass close. "It's there, if you get over your fear."

At that, he simply smiled, saying nothing more.

"Go study, bookworm," She smiled a bit in return, and closed her eyes.

He nodded at that, then turned his chair, flipping the book back open to the page he folded. He read along silently, occasionally checking over his shoulder to be sure she was alright.