(~( The OOC is this linkie right here )~)

Zen gasped as he sharply rose upright in his l little bed mat. He panted for air as he looked at his chest grabbing it seeing if it was still there, more likely about that "spirit" that came in and out of his chest, that freaked him out the most.

He rose from his bed mat as he stretched and threw on his shirt that he used as a pillow. he closed his eyes and thought for a moment, he had to go to someone specific about this high-dollar ring some guy has boasted about. He open his eyes back up as he started out of the alley.

As he left the streets were not busy, seeing as how many of the residence either stays inside due to being harassed by the guards repeatedly, or their all out at the market begging or actually buying something, which is beyond amazement. Zen trudged onwards to the tall wall that separated the middle and high class to the slums of the city. Even with the wall the market still littered the entrances of the 3 main gates. Many people say that the wall used to be the outer wall, until poor people and farmers started trying to make residence. They took over some unnamed part of the city, but many disregarded that and said its always been there.

The guards eyed him, as if trying to put fear, or make him feel like he's being watched. By the times zen has past them, he has always ignored their gaze. It was here, in this market he would find his informant. He knows the house, however he knows not the occupants or where exactly it is located, hopefully he can get that answer. He walked into a store, which seemed to be empty of the morning rush of merchants. He walked over to the clerk and smiled slightly as the clerk greeted him.

"Oh, Hey-ya zen!" he then whispered as he leaned on his counter "Got anything for me to fence ya?" He gave a greedy smile as his eyes glittered, like they always do when hes about make business. "No, actually..." Zen spoke as he leaned back, the man dropped his smile and went back to his pronounced aged anger look. He always looks like that though. "Then what are ya here for?" The man sneered, he admires Zen's business with the loot he brings him, but if he gets none of it, then his business can just be for nothing. "I need some information, There's a ring I'm hunting down and its jewel is as real as your going to get, however when i get this ring, i can get an answer to another question i have, but not for you." the clerk laughed "And what do you have for me to answer then?" Zen looked around then back at the clerk "I'm looking for the house of Agusto, you know Agusto Selvin do you not?" the clerk smirked "That self-centered pig dog? your going to go for him? Well i'll tell ye, he's in the noble class of the city, i think his is the tallest building a few down from the stairs of mobility, its a white mini-mansion so it sticks out like a sore thumb, you'll see all its elegance... and you think you can nab me some of his wares>? I'd love to take my personal revenge on that pig-dog" the clerk laughed wickedly as zen nodded and headed out the door with speed.

Kaen awoke with a start. One of his scimitars was in his hands, and his chest was heaving. Taking a deep breath, he dropped the scimitar onto the bed, and he rubbed his eyes. What was that dream? It was so vivid, I could of sworn that it really happened! What did that spirit say again? I was chosen by the gods, and that i could control fire? This is nuts. He chuckled, and pushed the thought away from his other thoughts. Then he felt something, different. He knew that he had never felt this before. He looked at the candles by his bed, and reached out to them. With out warning, the candles went out, and the fire from the candles was in his hand. He yelped, and pushed the ball of fire away from him. It flew back and re-ignited the candles. He was stunned. The dream was REAL!, he thought. His mind was racing. Suddenly a piece of paper was pushed under his door. He got up and walked over to the paper, and saw that it was a new contract that had just come in. The target was Agusto Selvin. He was a corrupt royal, and need to be disposed of immediately. The method of assassination had to be accidental. He smiled and went to his closet to get dressed in his gear. He strapped his scimitars to his belt and put on his mask. He jumped out of his second story window, landing with little sound. He sprinted down the alleyways, going to where he would meet his contact, where he would get all the information that he would need to complete the contract. He smiled underneath his mask and ran on.

Houtai awoke quietly from his dream, despite the strangeness of it. After all, his nights have been plagued by nightmares and insane images for as long as he could remember. However, last nights dream... "I have to lay off the skooma before sleeping from now on," he mumbled to himself as he stood shakily and surveyed his surroundings.

The dank alley walls that surrounded him seemed to lean in closer, trying to suffocate him with their presence. But still, all was well. The trash littering the floors, the rats crawling around in his straw bedding. All the same in his own personal corner of hell on earth. His 'home' if one could call it that. He owned nothing except what he could take from others, and the same was true for the rest of the human filth that inhabited the old neighborhoods of Eidolbere.

With a heavy sigh, Houtai shambled over to the corner where he had hidden his most prized possessions. He came to a stop in front of a broken wardrobe he had managed to haul into his alley from a house whose occupants had died some years before. He reached for the right door, knowing that the right was jammed, its hinges long rusted, and opened the wardrobe. Inside there was a few sheets of dirty cloth, and several rolls of bandages. Houtai wasn't interested in any of this. He shoved aside the cloth, revealing that the piece of furniture had no back, then gingerly reached into the large vertical crack it hid.

With care one would expect a mother to handle a newborn child, Houtai removed from the crevice a sickle. It was a farmers tool, with a short one-handed handle carved from hickory, and a long, curved, and serrated blade . Along the handle was a beautiful curving pattern, colored a glistening ebony. It had been put there by his mother, as a gift to her husband.

If you're going to work yourself to death, you might as well do so with something nice rather than your old rusted piece of junk. I'm surprised that thing can even cut anymore!

The brief memory of his mother giving his father the sickle brought a smile to his face. However, it also brought forth the memory of how useless the sickle had proven against assassins, his father unaccustomed to wielding it as more than just a tool.

His bandaged face now marred with a frown, Houtai glanced at the sky. "The sun is high... almost noon. Time to be off" Sighing once more, he grabbed his hat from its place beside his bedding, donned it, and set off to meet with the assassin.

Houtai approached the bar, The Golden Chestnut, where he was scheduled to meet with the assassin. Despite the name, nothing of this bar was golden. It was a meeting place of all the cut throats and mercenaries, the kind of bar where you always kept one hand on your dagger. None of this bothered Houtai, however. After all, he was one of the cut throats.

Taking a seat at the bar and ignoring the stares of the other drunks, he gestured towards the bar-keep. "A bottle of your finest whiskey, Tom." Tom looked at Houtai's bandaged face in suprise, before setting his hard features into a glare. "Houtai? You got any money?" In response, the bandaged street rat grinned, showing crooked yellow teeth. "I don't. But I now someone who does." That simple sentence got Tom to shut up. Having done business in this area of the city for over 20 years, he knew not to ask too many questions.

When his bottle of whiskey and a shot glass finally arrived, Houtai settled back in his chair and poured himself a shot. 'Nothing to do now but wait',' he thought silently to himself, chuckling at the thought of his associates face when he learned who was paying for this binge.

"Oi, Tom, gimme another," slurred Houtai. "I think not," growled Tom. Houtai looked up in suprise. "Why not? I-hic- I told you, I got a friend who'll give you the money." Tom slammed his fists down on the bar. "That was an hour ago! Now you listen to me you bandaged up little freak, you're either going to give me the money, or i'm going to take your head!" Tom reached behind his back with one hand, bringing out a sharp dagger, and brandished it in front of him.

The drunken smile that had been plastered on Houtai's face disappeared and a cold, hard look came into his eye. "You don't want to be doing that Tom." The big man ignored him, and grabbed the front of Houtai's coat. "I said, you don't. Want. To do that. Tom." With a roar, Tom lunged forward with the dagger, intent on stabbing it through Houtai's heart.

However, years of street fights had honed his reflexes. Even as intoxicated as he was, Houtai was still faster. His right arm came up and knocked Tom's knife arm away, while his left grabbed the hand that was holding him and twisted. Snarling, Tom brought his knife back for another stab, but Houtai was ready. He picked up oe of the empty bottles strewn across the bar and smashed it into Tom's face.

A howl of pain escaped Tom's bleeding lips as he scratched at the glass shards in his eyes. But Houtai wasn't finished with him yet. Heaving himself up and over the bar, he grabbed his assailant by the back of his head and slammed him into the counter again, and again, reducing the man's face into a bleeding, swollen mass.

Breath coming in puffs, Houtai glanced up to survey the now silent bar, blood lust in his eyes. "Anyone else?" With a tremendous roar, the previously silent bar erupted into chaos. Everyone wanted a fight. knives were drawn and re-sheathed in other patrons. Glass was broken, tables were overturned. Everywhere there was violence.

A few of the drunks decided that they wanted a go at Houtai. The first to reach him was a thin, gaunt looking man with a rusted short sword. The two circled one another, as Houtai slowly drew out his sickle.

Duck... whispered a rough voice in his mind.

"Wha?" A stunned Houtai muttered, before ducking, just managing to dodge a swipe from the mans sword. 'What the hell is going on?'

Move to the left, then cut him across the chest. This time, he didn't hesitate, stepping to the left to avoid a downward stroke, and sliced the mans chest. Gasping, the man clutched at his wounds and fled.

'Who the hell are you? Who's talking to me?' The shadows. 'The shadows? What do you-' Jump back!

Houtai did so, and a chair flew past barely an inch in front of him. 'Wait... that dream. I guess it wasn't the skooma. Hey, are you saying that the shadows are talking to me?' And in a great chorus of voices, they answered. We are. Now... fight!

Grinning like the mad man he is, Houtai dashed through the mob, following the shadows advice, ducking, dodging and slicing until all others had either fled or lie bleeding on the floor. Now alone, houtai stood tall in the carnage, watching the blood drip from his blade. 'Tell me more of you.'

You are connected to the shadows. You are connected to everything. We will talk to you, help you. No enemy can hide from you, fheir shadow shall call to you. No man can surprise you, for his shadow shall betray him, and tell you his next moves. No secret is safe, for shadows will tell you all.

A dark chuckle escaped from his lips, before developing into a full blown hysterical cackle. "This... is going to be fun."

"Master Zxeis? Master Zxeis, are you alright?" the words echoed in his mind but they were masked by his own thoughts. The dream was so real, and even to this very moment that feeling of energy could still be felt throughout him. He couldn't focus, it was becoming too much to take in. "Zxeis!" a female voice bellowed. The sound rung through his head and instantly snapped him out of his daydreaming. "If you're going to have such noisy company then do at least pay attention to them." she said before trailing back into the inner halls. Her gait was elegant, as if she were floating. Zxeis nodded in response and then returned his gaze back to the two mistresses nestled underneath his arms. "I do apologize for such an inconvenience. My mind is slightly riddled with thoughts. Some time alone may be of need." he said softly. Without question the two young ladies each gave a kiss to either cheek before rising to their feet. A moment's curtsy and they would take their leave from the center area.

The scenery looked different through his eyes this morning. Despite the luxurious beauty of the gardens, the heavenly serenade of the large fountain's rushing water, the elegant statue of a lady holding a bucket in a pose much provocative. It all was to his liking, but beneath every object, within every corner, was the darkness. With every glance different scenes of his dream continued to replay in his head. The shadow's embrace was cold yet it soothed him into a state of ecstasy. The worst being that his own shadow seemed to grimace at him, its shape being distorted and more satanic than usual. It seemed to be alive, and that alone sent chills along Zxeis's spine.

Zxeis wanted his guests to stay, their company made him feel safe, but even their shadows reacted to this unholy aura that emitted from him. Zxeis brushed away a few strands of his hair out of his visage and pressed his back against the white bench he was sitting on. His eyes rose to the sky, where at least there there was no darkness... And then he remembered nightfall. All the while these countless thoughts found refuge in his head, his attention was drawn away from the event that seemed to be occurring without his permission. Suddenly Zxeis's chills grew more sharp but he couldn't move as he felt someone nestled back underneath his arm.

The shock prevented Zxeis from yelling out but it was true he was more than weirded out. The dark matter that formed his shadow had now taken the form of his mistress. Though the image was very faint, the feeling was more than real. His shadow had somehow copied the girl's figure and created an illusion as if to comfort him. "Of all the dreams, the dream in which I am endowed with the power of darkness itself turns out to be real." Zxeis moaned to himself. The enigma emitted a giggle of sorts, as if it were directly in tact with Zxeis's emotions before melting back into the cobblestone path in which his shadow had originally resided. "I don't fully understand what you are, but I'm assuming I have no choice but to adjust and find out." Zxeis said with a light smirk. In all reality he was still a bit startled but it was more reassuring that this power did not want to overtake and consume him. I mean, it is darkness.

Zxeis stood to his feet and stretched momentarily before leaving the inner garden. Now on the other side of the tall columns that line the corridors surrounding, he began to head towards the front of the luxurious estate. The main doors were tall and their marble furnishing gave them a glossy look that very well matched the exquisite designs etched into them. The double doors would creek open as Zxeis slipped his slender form through and headed down the center walkway. The exotic aroma of flowers hit him once again, courtesy of his mother's taste in decor, as he made one final exit out of the high steel gates. Zxeis personally thought all this extravagance was too much and being around it for too long would poison him. His hazy gray eyes looked off in the distance to the tall wall that separated the commoners from the rich. That was his current destination. He took a single look back at his family's estate,rubbing his hand along the Rorcell name that was engraved on a brass sign, before heading off in the direction of the gates. "All this elegance, accompanied with weird powers, is far too much for me today. A trip to the commoner's market should hopefully block out all these thoughts... Hopefully." Zxeis mumbled to himself. Of course, the moment would have been a bit more satisfying if he didn't look down in response to his shadow giggling once more at his words. "... This is going to be a long day."

Kaen had approached the bar and heard a loud ruckus inside. He cautiously looked in through a window and saw that there was a brawl in the bar. People were being stabbed left and right, tables were overturned, and beer flooded the floor. There were a few dead bodies, and some lucky survivors running out of the bar. He saw his associate, Houtai, finally in the middle of the massacre. He saw that Houtai was the sole survivor that was in the bar. He walked slowly into the bar, clapping his hands in mock applause. "Congratulations my friend, you are the champion", he said. He surveyed the bar, and looked out a window to spot a glow in the distance. Fire, it seems to be from the rich part of town. I wonder who's house is now cinders?, he thought. He knew the answer to his question when some bystanders ran past the window shouting, "Agusto Selvin's house is on fire! Get help!" He frowned. Someone had apparently beat him to the kill. His grip tightened on his scimitar.