Skyfall

Astrid made her way out of the meeting room, whilst inwardly jumping for joy.

She didn't get shouted at.

Sebastian didn't brutally murder her.

Talon didn;t give Sebastian permission to murder her.

All in all, a good result for all. The assassin tried to smooth down her rebelious hair, ignoring the sniggering dragon on her shoulder.

"I will seriously hurt you, Stephano, if you don't shut the fuck up."

"Oh, I feel so threatened."

The young woman felt as if she should chuck the dragon off her shoulder, just out of spite before a little bolt of thought hit her.

Sebastian was going to be her boss. Oh hell no. He hated her. Right now, he did anyway. She never got that. Astrid was only doing what she thought was right. She was good at distractions and with lots of new people round, the recruits needed distractions. Sebastian was just touchy sometimes. It really wasn't anything to do with Astrid or her actions.

Really.

So as the assassin knew the older man would be at the meeting room soon, she took off quickly towards her little flat so she could pack the little she needed. Spare clothes, couple of knives, Stephano's food and blanket, her spare arrow heads and her other bow. She didn't like using the spare bow; it didn;t have the same feel as her regular one. Her bow felt like an extention of herself. But she couldn't very well leave with one bow. What if, god forbid, it broke? She'd be screwed. Astrid quickly turned the corner and found herself plough straight into someone. The young woman caught herself and looked up to see a familiar face.

"Aw, shit. Not you." It was the recruit from earlier, the one she had hit with the pots. And he did not look too happy to see her. The young woman plastered a smile onto her face and tried to side step around the tall man.

"Sorry, coming through! Super important order business!" She pushed past but was caught by a hard grip on her arm. The recruit pulled her back in front of him and cornered her. Astrid didn't worry as he leaned in with a not so happy expression on his face. She had dealt with those kinds of people before. She did worry, however, as a cough tickled her throat and tried to make itself known.

"So, you think it's funny to run away from me?"

"Well, it depends. You look like you'd run like a fricking rag doll with those long arms so yeah! It would be kinda funny." The young woman replied, her cheery voice hindered by the roughness of her throat. She tried to clear her throat quietly but felt Stephano's attention peak.

Uh oh.

Astrid's mind was shaken from that line of thought by a harsh push to her chest. She couldn't help but gasp as the air from her lungs was forcibly removed.

"The hell was that for?!"

"No one makes fun of me. No one." Astrid opened her mouth to answer back when a harsh growl cut in. Her red eyes followed the noise until she found her little dragon standing up and looking pissed. His gold eyes gleamed furiously at the recruit. Stephano had been rather quiet and docile so far, letting Astrid control the situation. He must have thought it had gotten a little out of hand for his tastes.

"Leave." The dragon growled in a tone that sounded almost unearthly, not like his normal warm voice. This was the voice of a dragon, a pissed off dragon. Astrid couldn't help but shiver and be glad that that voice was not directed at her. She looked up at the pale looking recruit.

"You better do what he says. He's hungry and recruits are his favourite." The young assassin teased, her bright eyes glimmering in amusement. Ah, recruit baiting. So much fun, it really was a great past time. The young man paled further as the dragon breathed out sharply, a few flames flickering around his mouth. The recruit turned on his heel and took off, leaving Astrid and Stephano in the empty hall alone. Astrid sighed. He would bet her finely crafted bow that he was going to tell Sebastian, who in turn would tell Talon and Jennifer. Great. Just what she needed.

Despite this, a little angry presence on her shoulder forced her to focus and make something up.

Quickly.

"Hey, Stephano! That was weird, huh? Well, we better be-" The assassin was cut off by a lamplike glare turning her way. Normally if Stephano glared at her, she'd glare right on back and threaten to put him in tomorrow's dinner. But this was no normal Stephano glare. This was the glare of death.

Well, hell.

"Why didn't you tell me." A statement, not a question. Astrid tried to avoid the seriousness and carried on walking down the corridor.

"Tell ya what?"

"You know. You know what I mean." The anger drained out of the little dragon and was replaced with a tiredness that made him seem so much older, ancient.

"So, I've got a little cough. I'll be fine, you worry too much. Besides, we are going to Ro'ell. Which is very not fun."

"Ah, yes. I had forgotten about your adversion to mages." Stephano replied to the unspoken question.

Can we change the subject please?

He knew that being sick scared the young assassin just as much as it did him.

"Adversion? More like I best not get in there way again unless I want to pop up in another dimension."

"Technically, you'd already be in an another dimension. There would just be two of you there and none of you here. Which wouldn't be that much of a loss really..." Stephano trailed off, smirking as his assassin pulled her face into an indignant frown.

"Shut it or I will give you to that Capella as a chew toy."

"I think that would insult her again."

"Pride schmide, I want a chew toy dragon."

"I appreciate that. Really. I do." This banter of insults carried on its back and forth until the duo had collected their belongings and were making their way to the enterence to meet "King Grumpy" himself when Astrid's interest was diverted. Two people looked like they were fighting. Or rather, one dragon lady looked as if she was shouting at the person in front of her. Astrid watched as that Khrae guy they had met earlier moved forward to intervene. She scoffed. Really, didn't he know anything? You didn't break up fights, you stood on the sidelines and placed bets! Stephano spotted Fukayna looking frozen in place and winced in pity. Yeah, he never liked being frozen like that either.

He didn't have much time to muse on this as his companion did what she did well. A bit too well, if you asked him.

She caught people's attention and made fun.

"Caaaaaaat fiiiiiight." She drawled, leaning against the courtyard wall, knives resting in the gaps between her fingers like talons. She had figured out how to use them like that a few years earlier and took great joy in doing so. It always got a funny look from the recruits anyway. She slid the knives away seamlessly and gave a Cheshire Cat grin as she slowly moved over beside Fukayna. With her grin still gleaming, she spoke loudly to Fukayna, sure that eveyone could hear her.

"So, I'm putting 10 on the Grey Sword, you in or what?" She turned to Capella, giving her a wink and a friendly smile hoping her anger had somewhat disapated from earlier.

Stephano let out a heavy sigh.

Oh Riena, let someone put me out of my misery before this raging lunatic gets us both killed.

Jennifer had been fumbling with the key in the lock, twisting, turning and jiggling the metal jigsaw piece. Precariously balancing a stack of papers over her other arm, multitasking proved to be beyond her capabilities. Several papers shot to the floor and the mage released a huff of irritation, her feminine shoulders heaving.

“Sebastian!” she shouted, stamping her feet childishly.

The call had been directed at the veteran assassin who sometimes worked as her aid, but she immediately realised the error. Jennifer chided her memory for she’d only just seen Sebastian off, watching the party leave through a viewport as she returned to her private study chambers, separate from the bedroom Talon and she shared. She'd missed the opportunity to question Fukayna also, but no matter. There were still some final reports to attend to before she could sleep. It was hard to believe she still called herself a mage when all she relegated herself to was desk work these days. The recent events in Lethandrill had been the most action she’d seen outside of bed and training, but strangely for Jennifer, it shocked her. Forty years of peace with a loved one did that to you when things suddenly started exploding.

Jennifer had spent the last half-hour briefing Sebastian on the meeting’s details. She’d kept the details succinct, with clear instructions to only inform others on a ‘need to know’ basis. Parking her work down beside her, she wrestled the door open with both hands, working the lock mechanisms until she was rewarded with a resounding click. The offensive door flew open as she kicked it, venting her need to express a juvenile frustration.

Another surprise waited inside in the form of an intruder, standing by the window at the rear of her desk. Jennifer brows furrowed as she looked at the man from behind her papers, her head tilting as she examined him. The trespasser remained still in response, impassively observing her the same way. A tanned and leathery complexion seemed to constantly change height as his shadow flickered behind him, overcast by the room’s light source. He wore a nondescript uniform padded in leather armor, an embroidered sword sheathed to his right thigh. The mage acted normally at first, ignoring the man like a ghost as she walked into the room and placed her articles on top of a mahogany desk. Reclaiming a pen, she made a show of signing off some final documents, dabbing the silver point in ink and adding her cursive text. Finished, a yawn breached her composure and she outstretched her arms, her midriff bared as the buttoned top down shirt hitched a little. The release of tension was perfect, allowing the mage to settle into her own body, “How did you get into my chambers? That lock won't even open up for me.”

He began by stroking the ends of his beard whimsically, playing its sharp and defined corners. His accent was refined, polite and spoke of an easy life, “You’re hardly a favourite among the Order of Riena Miss Live. Some might say you’re infamous even, given your… influence over Lord V’lyn.”

“Hah, and you are?” Jennifer snorted.

His hands stopped brushing and the man offered a languid smile before tipping the brim of an invisible hat. “My nickname is Fiddle Fingers, though who I am doesn’t matter at all Miss Live. All that you need to know is that I am an agent of The Nine. It is my purpose which should be your concern. I have been tasked with apprehending the people responsible for crimes against the citizens of Lethandrill. Do you mind?” Motioning slowly so not alarm the mage, a gloved hand reached into the depths of his pockets before he withdrew the object within. A signature badge representative of The Nine, gleaming as bright as gold.

The man paused only to clear his throat, “Do you know what your crime is Miss Live?”

“Gee, let me get you a list,” Jennifer rolled her eyes.

“It’s being a mage,” said the man, his smile never faltering, “The world is changing Miss Live. People are starting to fear magic, and they have good reason to. Your magic, which isn’t even meant to be practiced in public, just wiped out half the population of Lethandrill in the blink of an eye,”

The mage grinned in a manner of mild amusement, folding her lithe arms over chest, “What makes you suspect me?”

There was another pause as the two faced each other from opposite sides of the desk, another moment of silence as the man contemplated his answer. “Consider your less than exemplary history, the magical power you wield and the fact that witnesses saw you fleeing from the scene. The Nine and the Order of Vyldi have deemed it necessary to detain you.”

Jennifer frowned at his reasoning, “We were originally sent there to investigate Torak, he’s the culprit. You can verify this with the Order of Vlydi themselves.”

Fiddle Fingers seemed to raise both of his gloved hands in mock surrender, playing the act of a sympathetic negotiator. Yet a hint of doubt managed to creep into his tone, “Which is why we are just detaining you until further evidence is found. I assure you Miss Live, we are doing everything within our power to chase Mr Torak also. Moreover the records are quite clear that Mr Torak doesn’t possess enough magic to destroy a building, let alone an entire city. Who’s going to testify against him? The ashen remains of Lethadrill’s population? The group of companions you so conveniently gathered here? Maybe even Lord V’yln himself? Your partner in crime?”

“Oh? And i suppose you would've been the one to stop Barthomel? He’s done more for this world than you ever could,” Jennifer said sweetly. A dangerous smile had begun to crease over her red lips, “If we assume I caused the explosion, what makes you think that you can hold me in one of your pitiful cells if I can destroy cities? I hope you have something more effective than handcuffs.”

“The handcuffs are my favourite tool actually, appearance wise. But, if I’m to be completely honest you’re right, they’re hardly effective. That’s why I prefer to use other means,” Fiddle Fingers chuckled excitedly, “It’s weird don’t you think? This Order of Riena,” he made a grand gesture, briefly turning around and outstretching his arms to encompass the width of the window, but metaphorically his limbs circled the entire compound, “An assassin guild that works in and is sanctioned by the public. It’s not very stealthy if you ask me. I’m willing to guess that you want to protect Lord V’lyn’s work and reputation Miss Live. If that’s the case, how will the Order of Riena survive if word got out that they where harbouring a wanted mage?”

Jennifer bristled perceptibly, jaws clenched and hands balling into tight fists. “I could kill you right where you stand, just a click of a finger,” she said, eyes narrowed.

Unfazed, his head bowed, casting deep shadows over his roughly design features, “Oh, I’m sure you can kill me very easily Miss Live. In a different time, I’m certain you would’ve killed me on the spot, but you’ve changed Miss Live, as have your circumstances. The Nine wait for my return. If I don’t report back, the Order of Riena will lose face. Lord V’lyns’ precious order and the people you've grown to care about will be persecuted, thus the results are the same. On the brightside, if everything is as you say, then you have absolutely nothing to fear. You will be released as soon as evidence against Torak is found. Now, please come with me Miss Live, your jail awaits.”

A slow trickle of unease coursed its way into her veins, making the mage shudder slightly. This man was utterly mercurial, but more perturbing was her predicament. Leaving Talon meant her beloved assassin would have to find another mage capable of sharing his power, not doing so would endanger his life. On the other hand, Talon’s order and all of his work was potentially at risk now thanks to her mistaken circumstances.

Sighing, Jennifer nodded translucently, “So be it.”

“Was getting caught part of your plan Miss Live?” Fiddle Fingers queried, eliciting trails of steam above his pink lips. A gloved hand resting at the hilt of his sword as he raised an eyebrow, though he was certain she could not see it.

Fiddle Fingers was hesitant to describe the feminine figure behind him a prisoner. Ever since they had left the compound he could feel her rose-cheeked, toxic smile stabbing the back of his head like a sharp blade. He led the march at a brisk speed, an entourage of security personnel dogging his footsteps, heels hitting the mud in miniature thunder claps. Brick facades ran adjacent to them on either sides, shuttered windows offering the enticing promise of shelter and warmth. They formed a diamond formation around the mage, as silly as the notion was. No formation would save them should the whims of that mage ever stray. Fiddle Fingers almost felt like they were transporting one of the old dragon gods themselves, but fortunately they had other safety measures.

“Who says I have plan?” Jennifer cooed. Metal chains clanked harshly with her every step, the heavy duty handcuffs cementing her pale wrists together like glue. He craned his neck back at her, even if only to confirm his suspicions. Just as he had assumed, a painfully wide smile seemed plastered onto her cheery face. Tufts of ebony hair cascaded down and around her lithe neck, pooling lightly at the base of her collar.

Facing forwards again, Fiddle Fingers signed inwardly as they kept walking. “You look happy Miss Live,” he said, deciding to entertain her.

“Why do they call you Fiddle Fingers?” she chattered on without breaking pace. “A famous violin player perhaps? Or maybe an anxiety disorder?”

“I can tell you now Miss Live that you’re wasting your breath. You won’t get the response you’re hoping for,” Fiddle Fingers’ broad shoulders rolled over casually, her words deflecting of him like a cool breeze. He quite enjoyed the night air, the glowing moonlight and quiet ambience offered a unique solace. “Personally I quite enjoy my unofficial title. People have unique imaginations,” he said, catching himself smiling at the pleasant thought, “The track record shared between Lord V’lyn and yourself is impressive though, Miss Live. Your little group, led by an assassin and his wanted criminal saving the world beyond all expectations. Unfortunately in your case, old habits are hard to shed.”

“Too bad you weren’t there to run and cower like the rest of the world,” Jennifer replied, shackles jingling restlessly as if to imitate her unspoken laughter. She shuddered herself, voice quivering in mockery of his impassiveness. “I wonder what will happen to you after it’s discovered that I’ve been incarcerated under false charges.”

“I’m following orders Miss Live. This is a precaution. If Lord V’lyn wishes to complain, he will receive the same answer you have,” Fiddle Fingers shrugged again. At this point the mage’s eyes twitched and her brows pinched together with a hint of frustration. “But until evidence is found to the contrary, I have every right to hold you in custody considering the current facts.”

“Who says anything about Talon?” she said, adding fake surprise into her tone, “There are plenty of other dangerous individuals in the Order of Riena. Some you’ll never hear coming, some have a killing sense of humour. Even I’d be concerned. They are after all, like you said, an assassin organisation who works in the public.”

“Perhaps the reason you’re so concerned by those individuals is because you fear they’re more important to Lord V’lyn than yourself,” Fiddle Fingers returned, earning a low growl from the mage.

The party came to a halt, stopping outside of the west gates, just underneath the rockrete archway. Foot traffic was essentially non-existent at this time of the night. Every now and then the screech of a dragon echoed overhead, lost to the abyss. The sounds drew Fiddle Finger’s attention to the dragon stable, a bustling hub of aerial activity. Like eagles, numerous reptilians sat perched within the gargantuan structure. He flashed his credentials in the face of tired men guarding the checkpoint, ignoring their stunned expressions from seeing Miss Live in handcuffs. Beneath the stark shadows of the gateway, Fiddle Fingers ushered his men outside with a wave.

“Take the mage,” he ordered.

“Sir?” asked Sergeant Graves, mild confusion showing on the man’s moonlit face.

“Escort Miss Live to the Headquarters in Laowlee, I shall remain here to continue my investigation. The superiors have been informed,” Fiddle Fingers responded, gingerly rubbing his hands together in an effort to combat the cold.

“Yes Sir Lieutenant Banks,” Sergeant Graves saluted before proceeding to shout curt orders to the rest of the security detail. They shoved Jennifer along with them, pushing her roughly. The sudden force made her yelp as she fell to the ground, unable to break her fall thanks to the cuffs binding her hands. Jennifer winced as she felt the hard tip of a boot racking against her ribs, punishing her clumsiness and forcing her to scramble upright.

“Farewell Miss Live. It was a pleasure meeting you but this is where we must part for the moment. These men will guide you to the appropriate destination,” Lieutenant Banks commented, nodding his head courteously, “I hope you don’t mind flying.”

Her silky complexion drained white in response but she persisted in smiling. Unbeknownst to her captors a small rock had been left where she fell. A small black onyx rock.

Talon V'lyn

The assassin rolled to his side, warmth flooding him from the covers. He stretched his arm out under the sheets, searching for the beautiful woman that he wished to pull into his embrace and curl next to. Having her molded against him was the most amazing feeling in the world and no matter what it was he was doing or going through, with her there it was possible for anything. His fingers continued their search under the silken sheets of their bed, cool and soft. However, when he continued to stretch out and continued to feel nothing, his eyes opened slightly to see if she was there.

There was nothing but covers. No woman inside them. Slowly his eyes drifted closed again, his thoughts figuring that she was probably over working herself once more. At the back of his mind, he felt a tugging that wouldn't leave him alone, thoughts that something wasn't quite right had him sitting straight up and wide awake. Talon had gotten used to not having Vy around to warn him about things. In that time, he'd gained a 'sixth sense' so to speak and when something was wrong, his body told him. Especially if it was dealing with his mage.

With Jennifer not to be seen in their dark bedroom, the assassin quickly threw off the covers and dressed. Moving swiftly through his home he worked his way through each of the study and work rooms on the second floor. Some of his subordinates watched him carefully while they worked on their own agendas. Talon didn't ask for anyone to help him search, confident he would find her on his own. As he opened the door to Jennifer's favored work room, he didn't see her and began to close it once more growing frustrated. Perhaps she had gone down to the courtyard?

No. He stopped with the door halfway closed. Turning, Talon pushed it open once more and peered inside. There was a stack of papers on the table, the chair pushed out as if someone had been sitting there at one time. He knew Jennifer was neat and tidy in all things and just the fact that the papers were left un-touched on the desk was unnerving enough. Another fact, however, gave him cause for more worry and caution. The air felt heavy, thick with the aftermath of magic. The room had the feel of someone who'd casted a large spell some hours ago. Stretching out his hand with the bracer, white light filtered around his arm and hand and he felt the air via his own power.

Someone had been there, and they'd taken Jennifer with them. He could feel her lingering power, slowly ebbing away in the space, almost like a trail that led to her and it hadn't moved from the room to go else where. No it just suddenly... vanished in thin air near the window. Talon closed his fingers into a tight fist, rage filling him that someone would dare trespass in his city, his home and then have the nerve to take what was his. He would raze the city to the ground if he had to to get her back.

Talon stormed from the room and peered over the balcony into the waiting hall down below. A couple of his assassins were stationed there, some reading the newest posting on the guilds board, others conversing softly with each other. His voice boomed out to them, gathering their attention in one sweep.

"Gather your weapons and ride to each of the cities. Someone has trespassed in our guild and I want to know who as soon as possible! Find Jennifer!"

None wasted time and the lobby was empty in a matter of minutes. Talon didn't wait either, he went back to their room and gathered up his own belongings. It had been a long time since he'd had to scout out a city without being detected, but he wasn't going to let that stop him. As he pulled on his leather clothing that held all of his throwing knives, a thought dawned on him. Sebastian was in Ro'ell. There would be essentially no one in at the guild to watch over it should he leave. Talon's eyebrows came down together in anger.

It was a risk he was going to take anyway. Turning, he pulled on his belt with both daggers sheathed in the middle of his lower back and finally his sword at his side. The assassin rushed down the stairs then and pushed open the double doors of his home and stalked to the guilds horse stalls. He mounted and spurred the horse into a dead run. Talon had an idea as to who would be brazen enough to challenge him head on in such a fashion and turned the horse in the direction of the Order of Vyldi.

Lain Gareev : Letolil

"Ugh, damn mages," the voice was thick with irritation as a spike of power reverberated through the room. From the darkness a lithe figure moved stealthily into the fire light that lit only half of the room. J'haren's cloaked features looked up from what he was reading and met the face of Lain who grinned down at him.

"Lain. Did you do as you were asked?"

"I always do. I'm offended you would ask me that," the other Nine placed his hand over his heart in feigned hurt as his lips twisted into a grin of malice. Slowly, J'haren stood, his bulkier build dwarfing Lain's. His black cloak fell around him, covering his leather armor underneath.

"Good. Than the elven boy should be of no problem to us anymore."

Lain raised an eyebrow as he watched the other man turn his back to him and gaze out into the dark night from the small window in the room. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his weight onto one leg. He wasn't one to ask questions, but that didn't mean those questions didn't come to mind.

"Is there something you wish to talk about?" J'haren asked, turning his hooded face slightly to direct the pitch darkness of the cowl towards Lain. It had always given the younger Nine a chill to look at the man's face without actually seeing his face.

Regardless, he smiled in return, clearing his usual features flawlessly, "No. It's none of my business, I only do as I'm told. I like things better that way."

"Your other orders? What were they?"

"Other orders?"

"Yes. The one's from Isaehn."

Lain felt his chest hitch but he covered it quickly, his smile still present and never changing, "Isaehn? I'm afraid I only take orders from you, Lord J'haren."

The older Nine hummed at him softly as if he were deep in thought about Lain's words. The taller man didn't move from his position and Lain grew steadily uneasy at the growing silence. His eyes flicked to the doorway just to his left. He waited a few more minutes and then turned slightly and started for the door.

"Lain."

"Yes?"

"My trust is not easily earned. Don't lose it."

Lain's eyebrow rose again but he didn't turn to face the man this time, "Of course, Lord J'haren," he tossed back his voice smooth and settled. He left the room shortly after and once he closed the door, his lips turned into a frown and he stalked down the hall of the Order of the Nine to his own room. If he wasn't careful... things could get out of hand very quickly.

Between Skyfall & Laowlee

Secluded in the shallow depths of a cell strapped between two dragons, Jennifer felt delirious. Rays of moonlight cut hazard stripes across her perfect form, almost reflecting off the mage's porcelain complexion. The rectangular compartment was pathetically small, its floor space fewer than two by two meters in width and length. The mage’s knees and legs were forced to bend in order to accommodate the span of her seated body. Shifting uncomfortably, Jennifer paused as the plated floor groaned perilously from supporting her simple weight alone. The jail was far from secure and the mage held a sneaking suspicion the rickety design flaw was intended. Its purpose was to deter criminals like her from casting any magic, lest they wanted to plummet a thousand meters to their own death.

Several gaps intersected the metal framework, exposing the mage to a gale of icy wind. Currents twisted her hair, flailing black strands over her rounded cheeks. Eyes watering, the sensation was highly disturbing. Chilling gusts prickled the surface of her soft skin, and in addition to her crippling sense of vertigo, paralysed the helpless mage. Already she was homesick and missed the encompassing embrace of her magnetic assassin.

The sound of leathery flapping hammered her hearing at an almost rhythmic pace, informing the mage of vital details of her captor’s travel. Whenever variation occurred in the wing beats, it indicated a climb or descent in altitude. A skill she had developed out of necessity during her travels with Talon’s dragon, Vy. Predicting the movement of a dragon meant she could brace herself for whatever hellish manoeuvre Talon was about to pull, and thus, save her stomach’s contents from rudely exiting her body. For the most part at least. That exact ability was coming into play now, allowing the mage to adjust her stricken form pre-emptively.

Strangely, Jennifer’s thoughts of air sickness were subsequent compared to her vexing guilt. With a heavy sigh, she reeled her head sidewards, attempting to thwart to onrush of air by shielding one side of her face. Whilst fending off natural elements, she chided her own behaviour that night. She felt undermined, frustrating, upset. She felt oh so stupid that she had played into the gloved hands of that mercurial investigator.

She accompanied Fiddle Fingers under the premise she was protecting Talon’s goals. It was a decision which hinged on Talon remaining in Skyfall and overseeing the order for its success. There was no parting note or warning for that very reason alone. Then ‘Lieutenant Banks’ implanted those seeds of doubt, rattling her mind with the suggestion that the order took first priority for Talon. As silly as the notion was, the split second it lasted was enough for the mage to betray her intentions. Leaving the onyx rock as a clue to her destination of Laowlee was a fatal error. Jennifer could on pray the attentive assassin would miss such an obscure hint for once.

---

Skyfall

Lieutenant Banks stepped outside of the motel he had spent the last night residing in, exposing himself to the morning air. The door shut quietly behind him, guided by his careful composure, as his boots touched the paving with a slight click. Skyfall was doing remarkably well under the rule of an assassin. If the paved roads were not enough of a sign of a booming infrastructure, then the towering stone structures certainly were. Banks admired the technical ingenuity associated with creating vast structures in junction with such heavy materials.

He had remained here to observe the Order of Riena. A task which bordered on the magnitude of impossible, one does not simply spy on an organisation of assassins. Such concepts were better left to the assassins themselves. So Banks had used the assets he was most capable of manipulating, people. It was precisely one of those assets which came to greet him that morning, reddened and slightly breathless from the effort of running across several blocks. Banks smiled warmly at the man who took a second to arrange himself properly.

“Mr Fiddle Fingers, sir!”

The convoluted title caused a deep chuckle to rumble out from the investigator. “Just Banks is fine,” he corrected amusedly.

The other man nodded, showing mild embarrassment before proceeding, “There seems to be some activity in the Order of Riena, they say Lord V’lyn himself even rode out in apparent haste. Do you want us to follow him?”

Banks stood with his own musings, twisting the sharp corners of his beard. If Lord V’lyn abandoned Skyfall now, the Order of Riena would be vulnerable. Blackmailing the mage had been a calculated risk. The question which hung over his mind was, did Miss Live genuinely care about the order? If not he would have died an exceedingly painful death. The risk paid off in the end, fortunately. Meaning there was one less dangerous mage roaming around freely. “No, that's fine. You wouldn't be able to track him anyway, he's far to adept. Thank you for your excellent services,” Banks stated eventually. The informant beamed from the minor praise, sometimes a compliment could be beneficial for increasing enthusiasm. Of course, money was usually better. “And here’s your reward.”

A sack of coins dropped into the man’s waiting palms with a weighted chink. Satisfied after a brief inspection, the informant nodded again and waltzed off to continue his daily routine, business concluded.

(And Capella now shows us exactly why you should never leave a shameless troll of a dragon lady unsupervised with an innocent young boy she happens to think of as both highly amusing and her possession.)

The Dragoness glanced tiredly up at the sound of the sudden voice, her amber eyes falling upon a familiar face and swiftly relaxing. Dragons were notoriously deep sleepers, and very slow to wake, but they were also very cautious. Consequently, when someone had suddenly spoken, despite her obvious sluggishness and fatigue, she had momentarily been alarmed - that is, until she realized her situation. It seemed that things were largely as they had been when she was last conscious, albeit with the scenery significantly altered. From what she could see over the shoulder of her hoard, they were back in that assassin-town where they'd first gone after she had met the two clansmen. That, in turn, meant that her little nap had probably lasted a few days, like her usual bouts of infrequent slumber. To a Human, it probably would have seemed strange that she had been asleep for so long, considering her Human-like appearance. But, for a Dragon, a short nap taking as long as three days was nothing out of the ordinary.

Speaking of her hoard, it seemed that he had fulfilled his obligations as her possession quite admirably, judging by several facts that were not lost on her. Although her position had changed, having moved from a standing posture to a more comfortable position lying across Dante's lap, he seemed to have kept his coat faithfully draped over her the whole time, compensating for her lack of warmth while her Dragon and Human bodies both recovered from their exertion. While she was not surprised to wake up clinging onto Dante - Dragons were famous for sleeping curled around their hoards to keep them from being stolen, and, when they did so, very seldom let go, or allowed themselves to be pried free - as she had probably been doing so for literally the past three days, she did find it slightly unexpected that she would awaken to find that such good care had been taken of her. She wasn't used to awakening after a battle to find herself warm, nestled underneath a covering of any sort, let alone to find that she was lying in an admittedly very comfortable position, with great care taken for her sake by a Human. Cynical and proud though she was, Capella couldn't help but find herself giving a slight smile at the boy's kindness. Even if she wasn't a member of his species, and even if it was only natural for her to be treated with reverence, finding a Human who actually respected her right and dignity as a Dragon enough to do so much for her... Capella found herself experiencing a sensation she was largely unfamiliar with. Was this... gratitude? It seemed rather disgraceful to her that she should be so touched by - no, that she should have relied on a Human to such an extent. But, then again, she reminded herself, this boy was no ordinary Human. His manner was one much more fitting of a young Dragon. Besides that, she had laid claim to him as a part of her hoard. Cherishing one's possessions was only natural. Yes, there was certainly nothing shameful about leaving things to her new unofficial servant. Nothing at all. Or, so she told herself, trying to justify the way she felt through these admittedly somewhat lacking means.

For a moment, she passed over what the boy had said, looking with a slight, half-smile up at him. For perhaps the first time, her expression seemed to contain a certain... honesty, that it had lacked before. It was neither the smug sneer of her angry pride, nor was it the sly, teasing grin of her usual joking attitude. It was just itself: a smile. Somehow, that plainness of expression, the satisfaction in her face, made all the difference, transforming her usually suspicious countenance into an innocent face that seemed completely different from the Dragoness' past actions. The fact that, somehow, it seemed like she was for the first time openly displaying satisfaction, approval, and perhaps even pride in the boy through her attitude only helped distinguish it from her normal manner.

"I hung onto you for all this time, huh...? I'm impressed. Not many people would put up with that as well as you seem to have. Devotion to that which one finds important is certainly an admirable quality. Heh. Maybe you really should have been born as a Dragon." Capella observed casually. It wasn't quite a "thank you," but the proud dragon's intended message was still there, even if she didn't demean herself by speaking it. In any case, her words nevertheless might come as a tremendous shock, especially to Stephano, who had by now realized both the Dragoness' secret, and the true nature of her tremendous pride. And, being a Dragon himself, he was sure to understand exactly how great a compliment she was giving the boy, even if he, perhaps, might not. "I hope I didn't toss and turn overly much. I guess I'll have to make sure I don't make a habit of falling asleep inside your coat, huh?" She gave a slight chuckle, her smile changing back to its old, sly appearance as she began to fully awaken, an amusing idea coming to her on the spur of the moment as she realized that, without Khrae or that accursed Naville witch present, she now had the perfect opportunity to play with her toy's thoughts. "But that's really a shame, you know," She said almost casually. "You're so warm and comfortable!" Abruptly tightening her hold on him and snuggling into the folds of his jacket to emphasize this sudden declaration, she gave a smug, teasing grin up at him. "Mhm, mhm!" She gave two vigorous nods, grinning triumphantly. "I infinitely prefer sleeping on your lap than I do on a bed of gold and jewels. My wings always get so stiff, and then my back hurts for days. Hmm... Maybe it would be better if I just practiced sleeping at the usual Human times? Or, better yet, if you learned how to sleep like a Dragon! That way, I could take naps like this all the time. Mmm... Just thinking about it makes me want to curl up and hibernate for a while. It's really terrible, being cold-blooded, you know. It's so hard to keep warm sometimes. I'd give almost anything~ to make these sorts of warm naps a... permanent arrangement." She grinned, slipping further into Dante's coat with each passing instant, until finally - much to the boy's probable relief, considering how few of the Dragoness' scales were currently covering her, and how closely she was huddling up to him - she abruptly cut off her flirtatious attitude, releasing the boy as she broke out laughing, grinning cheekily up at him as she sat up. Granted, she was still in his lap, and actually more visible than she had been before, but, compared to her rather embarrassing actions before, her current position would doubtless be quite preferable.

Calming herself from her previous amusement at the boy's predicament, she gave another cheerful grin. Yet, like her previous one, this expression seemed much more sincere than her usual attitude. And yet, somehow, despite her previous taunting attitude, and her current expression of happiness, something seemed a touch melancholy about the Dragoness' expression. Yet, shaking this off, it seemed she made up her mind on something, for, in the next instant, she spoke. In truth, she had indeed finally resolved a very pressing issue. The boy's loyalty had, although she didn't admit it, even to herself, earned her trust, and her respect. And so she had decided, come what might, to finally make official the claim she had been intending to make ever since she had met the boy. Given that the boy's master was currently absent, he therefore could not object to her making him forever one of her belongings. And, once it was done, it couldn't be taken back. Such was the binding nature of a Dragon's hoard.

"I've decided something. I think that you're an interesting person," She said simply, before suddenly mood-shifting to a much more formal tone. "Consider yourself honored, Dante Fuuriah, for you are the one and only Human to whom I have ever given this distinction, and quite possibly the sole member of your race to whom I will ever grant such a dignity. In any case, I am a very honorable, generous, capricious, and curious Dragon. And so, as you have interested me, I will bestow upon you a rare honor. I, Capella, have hereby irrevocably decided to claim this interesting Human as the newest and greatest piece of my hoard. I will tolerate no objections. You should rejoice, Dante. As the hoardpiece - no, as a hoard all your own - of a powerful Dragon such as myself, you are now the most secure and dignified member of your race. And, of course, given that you now belong to me, I suppose you've earned the additional respect of being referred to by name. Just don't expect me to show you such dignities too often, alright? You may be an interesting Human, and one of my treasures, but I am still a Dragon. I do not give such praise lightly, nor do I do it often." Despite the overall very condescending tone of her declaration, it was again relatively clear that she at least meant what she said. She quite obviously intended this to be high praise, even if, as a Human, Dante might not fully grasp the magnitude of what she had just done.

In any case, with her announcement complete, Capella seemed satisfied to rise from Dante's lap, standing and stretching as, with a quiet hissing and clicking sound, her old scales began to spread across her body, covering both her arms and legs completely, and forming a relatively modest coating, fully shrouding her arms, upper body, and lower half, although her scales remained absent around her navel. "So, you say there's a fight to be had, right?" She asked suddenly, glancing around at the building before them. "Well, I suppose I do need to wake myself up, a bit." Grinning, she motioned for Dante to follow, and then prepared to head for the door. However, the instant she took a single step towards the building, the Dragoness froze, her eyes abruptly narrowing and slitting vertically down their center, before beginning to dart cautiously around. Her ears perked up, and her claws slowly extended, making it plain that she'd just sensed something, and she didn't like it.

"That power..." She murmured. "He's here, too. I can sense him. The coward who dropped us into that tower...!"

Dante

Dante looked down at Capella curiously. He was somewhat confused at her words, though not because he couldn’t understand them, but because she may have misinterpreted his actions. True enough he’d remained, as she called it, ‘loyal,’ in the fact that he kept her in his arms for the duration of the trip and ensured her warmth and safety, but that could be better attributed to Khrae’s insurance that he fulfilled his obligation to her. That’s not to say that he’d of rather been without the burden of the Dragoness, but to have to go so long without being able to mess with Khrae, or anyone else for that matter, he found himself questioning why no one else could hold her. Many times he’d assuaged his urge to fidget and do mischievous things by simply tying knots in the hair of the sleeping Dragoness. Of course though, that distraction was short lived when Khrae had lectured him about preserving his own dignity, as well as that of a woman’s, while at the same time having to untie the boy’s fingers from the tangled knots.

In any case, the boy remained silent as Capella finished her statements, considering her words and trying to discern any alternative meanings. Of course focusing at all was difficult with the idea of combat directly in front of him, for all he knew Khrae or Sebastian were engaged in heated combat and he was missing the fun. But then something Capella said caught his attention. She had just admitted outright that he was interested, and that he interested her. No girl.. or Dragon.. had ever stated such a thing, most people, especially the girls from his clan kept a safe distance from him. Of course that made it all the more fun to mess with them, but also rather annoying when he got put down at every other turn. But Capella had claimed him… What did that mean? Dante wasn’t entirely sure, but the way she’d trusted herself to him, what she said… Did he just get himself a girlfriend?

Blinking a few times, Dante gave a rather childish grin, but then moments later, his thoughts swung to Fay. It wasn’t that Capella wasn’t attractive, and considering that’s the closest he’d ever been to a girl in his life, but…

Then the plan formed.

“So… Does this mean we’re going out?” Dante inquired suddenly, completely dismissing the Dragoness’s words about the mage. Dante had forgotten about the battle too, as suddenly he had a strange new opportunity to try to capture the attention of the beautiful Navile. If Dante could get a Dragoness, would that make Fay jealous? But then again…Capella wouldn’t mind, would she? She was a dragon, a master of subterfuge, sly and willing to do what she would for what she wanted… She’d understand, wouldn’t she? Well, it was probably best not to say anything.

And speaking of which, where exactly was Fay? He’d questioned Khrae several times, and the man always gave the same, “She’ll be fine, no need to worry,” answer. His master was far too scripted at times. Still, leaving her behind pained him greatly, and often his mind did wander to her, alone, scared, searching for someone to come rescue her. He could be one of those brave knights, riding back and dragging her up onto the horse behind him and galloping away into the forests. Or if she was captured somewhere, she’d be getting interrogated, or be suffering some awful ill-will, and he could burst in wielding his ancestral powers and save her. Of course he couldn’t use his fire now, but eventually he’d unlock it. There definitely had to be some other way than Khrae’s methods. He’d get his powers and save the damsel in distress, and she’d be in awe at his amazing power. Why, even Khrae wouldn’t be able to contend with his abilities, he’d surpass even his own master. Khrae can breath fire, but the best in the clan can conjure the more deadly types of flames… Black and Blue. Ah, yes, he’d do that and impress Fay when he came to rescue her. But first he had to know where she was…

Dante looked at Capella now, suddenly aware of what was happening around him. He took a moment to regather himself, considering what he could do. Now he had to decide what to do. It was no use having a girlfriend if Fay wasn’t even around, but he couldn’t just go find her… But then again, if he stayed her she could be undergoing unimaginable things with each passing second… But, would he look like more of a hero if he saved her then? Then took her back and she found out that he was the great warrior that had upheld the integrity of the Assassins Guild? He couldn’t just leave Capella either…

“Okay,” he said finally. “I accept.” He gave her a warm smile before reaching behind him and taking hold of the hilt of his sword which protruded just over his shoulder. In one fluent movement, or at least he hoped it was, he drew the blade, gleaming steel which shrieked as it exited its sheath, reflecting the sun’s rays magnificently. The state of his weapon was Khrae’s doing as well, that and the fact that he’d never used it once, but nevertheless, he tried his best to look like he knew what he was doing. He gave it a rough swing, slashing at the air and cutting down an invisible foe before nodding, satisfied. His blade, unlike Khrae’s own two, was sharp. Why the man kept them dull and never used them, he himself didn’t know, but that hardly mattered. Now he could prove himself, and then run back to rescue his Princess. Yes, that is what he’d do. Looking to Capella, he tried puffed out his chest slightly and drew back his shoulders, trying to look intimidating as he swung his blade again and pointed it threateningly at the Guild House.

“Follow me Capella,” he said boldly. “You shall remain safe by my side!”

Then the man appeared.

Dante had begun forward, only to stop dead as the mage materialized before him. No, that won't do. Not at all, men don't do that! Dante backtracked quickly, losing almost immediately anything he gained from the show earlier as the other man spoke. He seemed almost as if he were genuinely apologizing to them, but Dante wasn't at all focusing on that.

"Ah, the dragon-girl. I remember you. And the boy as well. Lets have a bit of fun, shall we?"

Dante regathered himself to try to look impressive again as he stood in front of Capella, sword balanced and held centered before him. Whatever this man would do, he would block it. He repeated that several times in his head. He is stronger than Khrae, he could do this.

Nope, he couldn't. Dante scared last minuted and froze as the attack came, he wasn't even sure what it was or what it did, but it was scary. It wasn't a sword, he could've blocked a sword... probably, but he had no block against magic. Not even Khrae did... did he? He didn't know... All he knew was that he was suddenly lifted off the ground, airborne and going backwards as the power impacted him, seeming to be more of a blunt force. Khrae had done this to him before, and he'd even shown him how to land...

THAT'S RIGHT! Khrae had shown him some things. Rotating last minute, Dante spin in the ground and finally landed several meters back, sliding on the balls of his feet in a sort of kneeling/crouching position, his sword embedded into the ground and quickly bringing him to a halt. Dante looked up, smiling, proud of himself that he'd managed to at least regain himself from the attack, then he stood and swung his blade again triumphantly.

"It's gonna take more than that, whoever you are!" he said loudly, extending his sword arm out towards the man, point leveled at his chest. "Bring it on, pretty boy!"


Khrae

Looking around warily, Khrae nodded as Sebastian split the group. He wasn’t going to immediately say that those other two couldn’t handle themselves, but taking a moment to gather everyone’s abilities and then split up accordingly might have been more effective. Because he didn’t know their strengths and weaknesses, however, meant that he didn’t immediately jump to conclusions about the older assassin’s choice to put the two younger fighters in a group of their own. They could very well be the perfect duo, but now wasn’t the time to be dwelling on mistakes that had yet to be labeled as such.

Without waiting the older swordsman followed the assassin upstairs, his bare feet silent on the polished wood. His eyes never ceased moving, noting each and every corner, shadow and possible points of attack. He was far from perfect in his senses, however. In fact many in the clan could only reach their highest levels through uninterrupted meditation. Unfortunately his time on the road had greatly reduced, if not completely put a stop to his usual habits. Nevertheless he reached out with his abilities, searching for those signs of malicious intent, those benevolent auras. Almost immediately one stood out.

“Directly ahead,” Khrae said as they reached the last step, though it wasn’t entirely necessary. Another combatant was in the room with the enemy already, and the clashing of steel was evident. Unfortunately for the assassin, not even his homeland advantage would give him enough of an edge of the mage which had infiltrated.

Khrae remained stoic as he felt the sudden surge of power erupt from within the room, and watched as the limp form was blasted through the door, dragging with it a spray of splintered wood and sawdust before impacting the wall across the way.

Standing ready, the swordsman turned with his right side towards the enemy, feet spread and right hand gripping the hilt of his left sword. He’d let Sebastian handle it if he so desired, or until he called for help, and while he usually preferred negotiation, he knew that wasn’t an option. The best he could do to avoid unnecessary confrontation was to remain as backup and watch the older assassin’s back. That decided, he cleared his mind of any further thoughts and readied himself for the imminent combat as the dark-robed figure glided over the remnants of the destroyed door.

Capella raised an eyebrow as Dante, far from reacting with awe, reverence, or any other such emotion that befitted the gravity of the claim she had just made, instead simply asked a question the Dragoness didn't exactly understand, for, although Capella was well versed enough in Human customs to understand why exactly her teasing advances caused such befuddlement in the minds and hearts of those with whom she toyed, she was much less knowledgeable when it came to terms of reference to such relationships. Consequently, Dante's simple question went completely over her head, momentarily distracting the curious Dragoness as she wondered what exactly it was Dante had just asked her. She was just about to inquire it of him when she remembered that the situation didn't exactly offer her the luxury of time needed to pursue such a discussion. Oh well, she supposed. It didn't really matter either way. If the boy didn't know exactly what he had officially been dragged into, that would just make it all the more fun watching him find out. Especially when she mentioned exactly how binding his position as her hoard was, and all of the different things it entailed. She couldn't help but snicker a little at the thought of it. Little did she know of the unintentionally disloyal thoughts her new possession was having, thoughts that very likely would have sent her into either a rage the likes of which could only be equaled in ancient dragon myth, or a downward spiral of despair of the selfsame caliber.

Naturally, this was only the latest of the dozens of countless misunderstandings between the two of them, and most certainly wouldn't be the last, either.

In any case, Capella had very little time to wonder about these things, for in the next few moments, the situation became much too pressing for her to delay any longer. In short order, the mage she'd perceived appeared, taunted the both of them - where exactly did he get off thinking it was at all a good and sensible idea to try to anger a dragon? - and then, predictably enough, opened fire with the usual cantrips and conjurer's tricks that the young Dragoness had come to expect of the troublesome Humans known as "magicians."

Normally, this wouldn't have been a problem. Of course, normally, Capella wouldn't have had an overenthusiastic, polyamorous and generally excitable and overconfident Human boy to protect.

In equally short order, Dante leaped in front of her, shouting something about how she would be "safe by his side," and was promptly sent flying by a low powered blast of magic to the face. And, while his attempts to protect his new master were certainly admirable - or perhaps a better word choice would be "laughable and absurd, yet somehow endearing to the point of being just a little bit adorable, much like the antics of a particularly clumsy yet well-meaning puppy?" - the fact that they had resulted in her comrade being hurt - even insignificantly - meant that this situation had just become gravely serious, and could no longer be but treated as such. This, of course, meant that Capella's vendetta against the annoyingly smug wizard went up several notches, climbing from "My honor dictates that I must have vengeance!" to "Okay, that's it. Everything burns now until he's dead. Then I'll incinerate his worthless corpse, and teach him what happens when you dare lay even one filthy hand on the most esteemed hoard of the great Gray Dragon, Capella!"

Somewhere, in the back of the Dragoness' mind, she couldn't help but notice that ever since she'd claimed such a high-maintenance being as a Human as her pet, she'd found herself greatly angered by such occurrences much more frequently than usual. It seemed that the boy got into trouble wherever he went, and, even though it was her job to keep him from being hurt, he ended up threatened so frequently that, in the past few weeks, the Dragoness had experienced more fits of murderous protective rage than she had, perhaps, in the last several years. It was odd, really, to find herself caring so much for the safety of a Human, a being who, by all rights, should have been at best considered prey, and at worst treated as her natural enemy.

These thoughts were, however, swiftly drowned out by Capella's primary instinct: killing intent towards the one who had dared to harm her hoard. Suffice to say, she was going to make sure he didn't live to repeat this mistake, through whatever means happened to be necessary - and a dragon's definition of the word "necessary" was very, very broad indeed.

In an instant, as the barrage of enemy magic now began to descend in turn upon her, the Dragoness had leaped back, evading the first few shots of the brightly gleaming arcane hail whilst at the same time landing by the side of her fallen companion, who had, evidently undeterred by his injury, managed to land and return to a fighting stance - although it seemed the boy's pride wouldn't allow him to go without issuing another brave, yet somewhat foolhardy challenge.

Goal 1: Get Dante away from ground zero, The Dragoness thought methodically, her vertically slit eyes slowly narrowing as another shower of magic descended upon them. Spreading her wings, she swiftly spun about and, ducking beneath Dante's extended sword, hastily swept up her arm, wrapping it around his waist as she launched herself upward like a rocket, carrying him upward and away from the frontal attack as it collided with their previous position, scattering a shower of dust and arcane light across the ground.

"Are you alright?" The Dragoness asked hastily as, giving the boy she carried an aside glance, she quickly checked him over for any pressing injuries before landing at some distance from the enemy mage. "Good, nothing serious," She confirmed to herself, not waiting for a reply. Muttering to herself as she touched down, she released Dante, berating him even as she wound her tail around him, poking at his back for reasons that, momentarily, might seem unclear, while at the same time delivering a remark that didn't seem to make much sense.

"Foolish, foolish Dante! Not even I can bear my own foolishness when it's coming from a foolish fool like you, you fool! Now then, you have something of mine. Where is the weapon I gave you?!" Exasperated, Capella sighed, spinning about and releasing Dante from her tail's serpentine coils. "Ugh, nevermind about the sword then. I don't know what you did with it, but if you've lost it, then prepare yourself to face a dragon's wrath once I'm done with this insolent fool. You're lucky that I am a very merciful dragon, especially to my possessions." Cracking her knuckles, she unsheathed her claws, extending them to their full length with a quiet, serpentine hiss as she braced herself against the ground, spreading her wings and preparing like a beast of prey just waiting to pounce.

"He, on the other hand, isn't nearly so fortunate. I advise you to stay back, Dante. Make no mistake. I promise that I won't let another such insulting injury be dealt to you. However, I'd really hate to see that lovely coat of yours get stained with that disgusting Human's entrails!" With those words, Capella at last made her leap just as the final shots of the arcane barrage fizzled out upon the ground. Streaking forward like a bullet as black fires began to crackle across her scales, Capella seemed less to move forward than she did to simply blink out of sight next to Dante and re-appear only inches away from her target. The speed of an angry dragon was nothing to be trifled with, a lesson that one Lain Gareev was about to learn firsthand. With an angry growl, Capella brought up her claws in a mighty sweep, at the same time releasing a sudden surge of black flames, aiming to first disembowel the mage with her talons, then incinerate him with an explosion of power in the next.

"YOU. BURN. NOW."

Stephano's large eyes widened as a huge fight broke out between Capella and a mysterious man. He hid his little assassin away in the shadows as the destruction started to get serious. But when this stranger started talking, he realised. This...this was the one who locked them up in the damn tower...this was the person who got Astrid injured. The little dragon snarled loudly, his long claws unsheathing and his back arching. Astrid had managed to stay upright for a while now, a sure sight her ailment was lessening a little. She coughed heavily before giving Stephano a look. The companion let out a heavy sigh.

"What now, Astrid?" He hissed, trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. He may want to tear this "Lain" to pieces but Astrid was vulnerable. Still so very vulnerable. The redhead frowned gently, her red eyes fixed upon her dragon.

"C-c-come on, 'Phano. Y-you got to h-help. I mean, I-it will help y-y-you lose some weight." She offered weakly, as her mind pleaded. She couldn't help her new "comrades" but her dragon could. And one thing Astrid T'vali was good at was being loyal. No matter what. She slowly pulled a knife free from her thigh holder, wincing as her chest twinged at the movement. The blade sat in her hand firmly, her eyes bright. "B-besides, I'll be f-fine. I've got a k-knife and you know how good I am w-with knives." Astrid spoke quietly, her voice hoarse and somewhat damaged. The redhead let out another cough as talking tickled her throat. Stephano's eyes softened and he rolled his eyes.

"One day, Miss Astrid "no middle name" T'vali, this ceaseless need to throw yourself and by extension, me, into danger is going to get us both killed." Stephano grumbled. Astrid gave him a thankful look as he stalked forward, his belly brushing the ground. The dragon's lamp like eyes were fixed upon the scene in front of him. His body froze as the man grabbed Dante. He was Capella's human. He was threatening him. The sandy dragon hissed loudly, a small plume of smoke billowing from his nose. It was as if this guy had snatched Astrid and threatened to kill her. It was unacceptable. He quickly took inventory of his injuries, just in case. He was a bit tired and his wing was injured. But he could stall for time and try and get Lain away from Dante.

You got this, you fat lug. Stephano grinned as a wave of Astrid's thoughts encompassed his mind.

I appreciate the sentiment. Now, what can you see from your perspective? The dragon asked as he snuck round the scene.

Not much, all I know is Dante is currently looking screwed. Astrid's worry slipped in, her thoughts tinged by it. Stephano sent a small ripple of calm her way and assured her that Dante would be fine. He hoped. He just had to get this guy's attention away from the young man and onto himself. Why, oh why, did he do this to himself.

Then Stephano remembered. This was the man who placed Astrid in the hands of that mage. That's when he knew he had to act. The dragon launched himself in front of Lain, his eyes a burning yellow. He wasn't going to win this fight, not in a long short. But perhaps, he could distract this lunatic so that Capella could grab Dante and take off. Astrid sat in the shadows, her knife poised in her hand, ready to throw if necessary. This guy better not hurt her dragon. Stephano hoped Lain would not notice the redhead in the corner.

He didn't think she was going to be discrete by any means, but one might hope. The dragon dipped into a battle stance, his face pulled into a snarl.

"I do believe we have some business to sort out. As well as the fact you are holding an ally of mine hostage. Now, I am not prone to violence but in your case?" The dragon let out a quick spurt of fire. "I shall have to make an exception."

---

---

There were voices.... she heard... someone speaking...

Her whole entire body felt like lead, bothersome, heavy, almost foreign to what she was used to. The young woman found she was having difficulty even opening her eyes--eyelids feeling so heavy that the effort of moving seemed a bit too strenuous for her to even manage. She laid still, trying first to steady her breathing. Yes, she was definitely awake, she could make out some garbled sounds around her. The voices sounded masculine but it was impossible for her to tell who they belonged to. The noise all warped together with the light buzzing in her ears.

Not to mention this headache that was making it all worse.

Fukayna forced herself to take a deep breath, opening one of her eyes with a bit of a struggle. Light flooded her vision and she instantly squeezed her eye shut again. Too bright, far too bright. She tried moving her fingers and found that they were responsive, if but slowly so. Alright... one by one... she could do this! She tried to encourage herself slowly, one finger, then two, there was three. Just a little more.

She wasn't sure how much time passed as she struggled to raise her hand but progressively, she dragged it upwards, settling her palm right above her eyes. Time to try again. Once more, she opened her eye, receiving less light than her first go-around. That was at least faintly bearable... She opened her other eye, vision growing less blurry as she focused on the figure nearest to her. The first thing she noticed was the grayish black hair that she had come to associate with only one person.

Her eyes shot open a bit as her heart did a small leap in her chest (much to her internal embarrassment) as she came to recognize Armen, who was looking her over with a modest amount of concern. A blush found its way to her cheeks and at times like this, she was rather relieved that no one could see her eyes. She wouldn't quite be able to meet his gaze head-on in this state.

Closer observation showed her Sebastian was also in the room but he was farther away, probably by the door. He looked anxious, as if he had been pacing or some sort. Fukayna tried to prop herself up on her elbows to see better but immediately collapsed back down again. Whatever she had gotten hit with had done ample damage to her body. She cringed, settling for looking back over at Armen.

How was she going to speak to him? She didn't have enough strength to write quite yet. Maybe there was another way...
She moved her hand away from her eyes and slid it down to reach for his, offering him a small, shy smile. 'I'm okay,' she mouthed slowly, hoping he would be able to understand her. It belatedly occurred to her that perhaps he had heard her voice in the form of her strangled scream earlier during the battle. She wasn't going to think much on it for now--her head hurt too much for that many thoughts. For now, she was just glad to be alive and that Armen was nearby.

---

---

She watched the faint argument from her position on the bed, shifting slightly so she could see the exchange better. Sebastian did not seem to be swayed from his position at first, his words indicating his anxiety and apprehension. She agreed with Armen though--she wasn't exactly in any position to consider moving at all. Her whole body felt as if it would give way if she so much as tried to stand. She felt fortunate to even be alive after such an attack--had it not been for her halberd... she wouldn't have made it. She knew that for certain.

Her heart gave a happy twinge over Armen's concern for her and she did her best to hide the smile from her face. She felt almost girlish for reacting this way but...

She eyed him from underneath her bangs, shyly taking in his features. He really was a handsome man. She had taken note of this before but she hadn't really had a moment to simply look him over without disturbance. The curve to his jaw, the way he firmly pursed his lips as he spoke, and his eyes--ah eyes! He was looking at her. She quickly looked down at her lap to hide her embarrassment.

Fukayna heard Sebastian's departing words before the door creaked, the older assassin letting himself out of the room. She figured it was safe to look up again, faintly noticing Armen had turned his head to the side a little. They must've both look a bit silly, sitting here with blushes on their faces. His voice was soft as he addressed her.

"Is there anything you need?" Was there? She was grateful to be safe--the only thing that would make her feel better was if V'lyn and Miss Jennifer were here. But she was going to have to wait before she knew anything about their condition. She shook her head, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

He was close, it didn't look like Armen would be shifting away from her any time soon. Perhaps it was the proper time to thank him. If it weren't for him, they wouldn't have been able to fend off the cloaked man in the manor. Yes, it was thanks to that frightening power... She sincerely hoped they'd be able to discuss that at some point. She had not sensed any magic from him when they had first met but now he seemed to be pulsing with it. The hum of it filled her ears, none too intrusive but most definitely there.

Answers would come later. For now... for now....

She sat up as best as she could and before her body gave way, she managed to lift her arms tiredly and wrap them around Armen in a hug. She slumped against him somewhat, not having the proper amount of energy to remain upright all on her own. She hoped the hug would communicate her thanks well since her furs were draped on the seat across the room--with them, her writing pad and utensil.

She didn't pull back and happily breathed in his scent. But was he truly okay?

She lowered one of her hands to his chest, pointing over his heart before making an "o" shape with her hands and then raising her fingers in a thumbs up/thumbs down motion to ask her question.

Armen froze in his spot as Fukayna wrapped her arms around him and hung on him. She fell against him lightly and he wasn't entirely sure what to do. His heart skipped several beats before picking up in pace and he was sure that his face had turned a brilliant shade of red. Slowly he started to wrap his arms around her lithe body. She was so light... so... frail against him he was almost afraid to hug her in fear of breaking her.

Even so, she was warm and the feeling of her against him was most comforting. Taking a moment, he nuzzled his head against hers. Her soft hair tickling his nose as he breathed in. She smelt wonderful. Then Fukayna pulled away just enough to point at him. She was asking him a question. Lifting an eyebrow he watched her carefully. Oh. She was asking if he was okay.

With a smile he beamed at her, "I'm just fine," he answered, though it wasn't really all that true.

She wrinkled her nose at him and shook her hand a bit as if to say that she doubted him just a little. If she was going through the agony she was, then there was no way he could've been just "fine". But perhaps he didn't want to worry her. Maybe she should just enjoy the moment of peace. It was only going to be a matter of time before Sebastian came in and disturbed them with more news about the Lord and Lady. For now she'd just relax.

She re-settled against him, closing her eyes and hoping that he couldn't hear how loud her heart was pounding in her chest. Fukayna was a bit unsure why she felt this way, considering she hadn't even known him for an extremely long time. Yet she felt somehow protective of him, ever since their meeting in the dungeons. Either way, hopefully they'd have time to recover before being thrust back into another battle.

---

---

Her heart lept into her throat when she heard Sebastian's words, the pause in conversation and the directness telling her that she had been discovered. Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment, she had known eavesdropping was wrong! But still she had done it for the sake of Armen. She wanted to know more and without V'lyn or Miss Jennifer to turn to... Sebastian might as well be the safest bet. He was older, after all, and that had to count for something right? At least as far as wisdom went.

She peered around the corner, noting Sebastian gesturing to a nearby spot for her to take a seat. She nodded, unable to get rid of the blush on her cheeks as she took his offer. He wasn't scolding her, at least that much was fortunate. She glanced over at Khrae very briefly but it did not seem he would be joining in the main bit of this particular conversation. She made a mental note to pursue a conversation with him later, when things were less... hectic. Whenever that was.

She drew out her notepad from her furs, holding the familiar charcoal in her hands once more as she quickly wrote out her question. "Why was there mention of dragons? Has his energy stabilized? Is it safe to see him?"

Sebastian watched her take a seat and crossed his arms as he leaned against the wall, putting pressure on his good leg. The wound was wrapped and as long as he kept off of it for the most part, it would be alright.

“Khrae thinks that there was a dragon communicating with Armen a few moments ago. It interrupted his meditation and he caught some of the conversation. We think that this dragon is being held captive though, but we won’t know until Armen wakes again. He’s stabilizing slowly. You can see him if you wish, Fukayna,” Sebastian answered her.

Her pen moved fast, scribbling nearly illegible words to the older assassin. "Communicating with him? Do you know where it is?" She hesitated on the last part, not wanting to leave till she at least got some of her questions answered. But she wasn't going to linger too long, she was eager to see Armen.

He read her note as she turned it back to him after scribbling away on it hastily. She hesitated for a mere moment before showing him, though and he frowned slightly. Reaching up, he tapped his lower lip with his finger as he contemplated his answer to her.

"From what I can tell, Khrae said that the dragon was speaking to Armen. I guess you wouldn’t know what that’s like and I’m the worst person to ask too. Lord V’lyn would be much better than me. In any case, no we don’t know where the dragon is at and that too will have to wait until he awakens.”

She took his response with a grain of salt. It wasn't what she wanted to hear. But then, what had she wanted to hear in the first place? That they would know everything? That the dragon was somewhere close by? She couldn't be sure but it seemed that the rest of the information all hinged on Armen. She gave a nod and went to stand, pausing to brush her fingers over Sebastian's as a way of saying thank you. She was too antsy at the moment to linger much longer, especially since Armen could be waking up soon.

She moved past the two, inclining her head to Khrae as she passed him. She made sure to pace herself so she wouldn't come across as too excited to see Armen (why was her pace quickening without her wanting it to anyway? That confused her.) She reached his door, wrapping her fingers around the door handle and letting herself in quietly. She drew in her breath as she did so, peering into the darkness.

The lighting was poor but she could make out his sleeping form on the bed more towards the back end of the room. She slid through the opening, closing the door gently behind her once she was sure her eyes had adjusted to the dim lighting. She still had a bit of trouble making her way over towards him and was sure she tripped over a few things. She managed to catch herself before she stumbled onto his bed, which would've been bad considering that the last thing he needed was to be physically assaulted.

N-Not that. Her cheeks began to flame at the thought of--um. Her. Him. She was forgetting how to stand up straight, the edge of his bed looked sturdy!

She nearly collapsed upon the corner right then and there, trying her utmost to make sure her movement was silent so as not to rouse him. She glanced over at his free hand lying atop the covers and shyly reached out her own, placing her hand over his. He felt warm... er! What was she doing! She withdrew her hand immediately and settled it into her lap. Best. Best to wait for him to wake up. Yes.

Khrae Var

Khrae sat patiently at the entrance of the Skyfall mansion. The man’s posture was erect and well disciplined, with his legs crossed passively and hands neatly resting in his lap. Except for the gentle rise and fall of the man’s stern shoulders with each breath, he was still, listening to the cool air which serenaded to him the sounds of the world around him. Khrae’s conscious was exploring now, his senses perfectly in tune with the delicate murmuring of eager leaves to leap from branches, or the resentful groan of a tree against the strain of the wind. Khrae heard the whimsical call of a singbird, and the rustling of the grass as it stretched for the sky above, yearning for the sun to bless each blade individually. Even the man’s hair, which was tied into a neat ponytail, dared to explore the virtues and secrets of the cool breeze, stands of lose silken black wafting lazily through the air, a cascade of midnight reaching down the man’s back and falling into a bundle on the ground behind him.

Every now and again Khrae heard the dull thud of a knife impact a wooden target, or the grunting of a sparring match taking place in the courtyards. The guild was busy in its task of reclaiming itself since the attack, and so Khrae listened to the sounds of busy work in restoration. In this downtime, the man had allowed himself a moment to reevaluate recent events and reclaim his sense of peace. Dante had of course found some endeavor with which to entertain himself, and seeing as how Khrae could find nobody who could possibly express to him the boy’s current whereabouts, nor could Khrae sense his presence anywhere in the immediate vicinity, he guessed that the boy must have gone adventuring and that Khrae would sooner or later pay for the trouble caused.

Perhaps it was the thought of Dante which had upset the man, or the sudden disturbance in the wildlife which had resulted from the clip-clopping of hooves down the road, but the man found his concentration suddenly broken. Sighing, Khrae opened his eyes, his piercing golden iris shining austere. From down the road the man could make out several figures on a single unlucky horse, with one walking alongside. Khrae’s gaze hardened as the man squinted but remained sitting. Shortly, he could make out Talon, Jennifer, his young charge, and the Navile girl, Fay. The man blinked stoically, and then cocked his head to the fifth figure. It appeared as though they had brought along another. Khrae observed a body in Dante's arms, noting that the man was either dead or unconscious for whatever reason, but he dismissed his curiosity as mere folly. Standing easily, his movements were once more fluid and calm after his meditation, and so he went to alert the guild and meet the party.


Dante & Party

So, okay. The others got to be on horseback and Dante was left carrying this sack of flamboyancy. The boy took the challenge readily though, seeing as how Fay was present, and persisted to display his tenacity and strength by both carrying this unconscious lump of white perfume and keeping up with a horse at the same time… For all of a hundred yards back to Skyfall. Still, considering how heavy the man was, it was an admirable feat. Or Dante was weak. But that couldn’t possibly be it.

Why was this man so heavy anyway? And why did he smell so strongly of magic. Dante often found his concentration fading, and the boy blinked quickly several times to clear his vision of the odd hallucinations he would seemingly walk in to. Was this just because of the man’s magic? Certainly Dante wasn’t just going crazy. Regardless, Dante was happy to drop the figure as soon as they had arrived back at Skyfall. Looking around, several of the guild members had gathered to greet their returning leader, and Dante watched as one of the assassins took hold of the horses’ reins to steady the creature so that the others could dismount. Khrae was present, and so Dante tried to remain aloof. Of course he knew Khrae had seen him, and that Khrae would not bother with him until other priorities were taken care off, but even so, Dante tried to stay out of the man’s immediate line of sight and was already preparing a rapid plan of escape which included as much of an ostentatious display as possible, as well as an over exaggeration of skill level with which to employ his escape.

“Welcome, Talon V’lyn, and Lady Jennifer,” Khrae spoke as he approached, bowing deeply. The man’s gaze drifted over those present, including Dante, which caused the boy a moment of pause as if his lack of motion would result in Khrae to be unable to spot him. Shaking his head, Khrae continued, looking back to the pair.

“I am happy to report the general safety of your guild, but I’m sure Sebastian will be more fitting to supply a proper situation report. Much has happened. I hope that your success has prevailed, and would like to apologize foremost for any trouble Dante may have been.”

“I would just like to point out that I have been helpful!” Dante interjected, having appeared somewhere on Khrae’s left. “I carried him.”

Khrae raised his eyebrow to the boy but made no response. He noted the last statement was said louder with a hint of braggadocio. Dante’s eyes had wandered back to Fay, and it seems his body had followed too. Khrae dismissed it, and nodded towards Talon and Jennifer. “Shall we proceed inside, then?” Khrae offered.


Valentino

Valentino’s eyes moved, staring into darkness. His head was swimming and he was disoriented. For a few moments he looked ahead, confused and dazed until he realized that he hadn’t opened his eyes. Voices were speaking, and people were moving around. He was moving too. He was laying in somebody’s arms. He could feel the rough breath over his hair, and feel the person’s arms supporting his back and legs. How humiliating, the man thought, he was being carried like some passed out damsel. What had happened? He was … wait.

Jennifer. Talon. They were coming towards him. Had? No. Talon wasn’t carrying him? And… Certainly Jennifer wouldn’t. Who. The man strained to open his eyes, squinting against the intrusive sun which seemed to shine far too bright for this time of day. Or, what time was it? Valentino didn’t know. All he knew was that as soon as his eyes had opened the floodgates of the world, he was falling.

Damnit, Valentino thought. Rude! He hit the ground with a thud, the air leaping from his person as his body refused to respond to what his brain told it to do. He was limp, but he could just feel his fingers and toes. He flexed his hand into a tight fist as he lay on the ground, breathing heavily. People were still talking, and dark silhouettes were hiding beyond the glare of the sun overhead. His mind was racing now, trying to ascertain the situation. Why, or what had happened? And why was he dropped.

“Welcome, Talon V’lyn, and Lady Jennifer,” a voice said. Valentino went rigid in response. Damnit. Turning his head, the man’s mind was beginning to clear, and his motor skills returning. He saw Talon and Jennifer, and others. Other assassins. Was he in Skyfall? And. Fay. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. Damnit. Why was she here? Oh… yes. She was going to Skyfall. Damnit!

Valentino groaned and rolled over. He had to pick himself up and leave. But he was too weak. The man strained his arms to push himself up, then fell again, surrendering with his cheek flat against the ground, leaving him to watch the actions of those present. What an odd fellow, Valentino thought has he observed the white-clad man. His hair was obnoxiously long. But he had power. A lot. Valentino could sense it. But it wasn’t magic… It was… just power. But so did Jennifer. And Fay. Valentino was surrounded by power and he could do nothing about it. The boy had said something and pointed to him, apparently he was his bearer, and Valentino groaned again, rolling his eyes. That was what had carried him. Lovely…

… Damnit.

---

Talon brought the horse to a halt as they approached the front of the guild house. His gaze lifted upwards at the large building that was seemingly under repair. It had definitely taken some damage from past fights with enemies that just seemed to be springing up out of the woodwork. His lips pulled into a frown as he regarded his home. At least it wasn't in rubble... that was something to be thankful for, wasn't it?

At his approach, he allowed Fay to dismount first as they were greeted by Khrae. The tall man addressed them as Talon released Fay's arm once she was down off his horse. He dismounted next and reached up for Jennifer, pulling her down into his arms even though he knew she was more than capable of getting down herself. She was most likely still irritated with him and he wanted nothing more than to settle the mage.

After all, an irritated mage was a dangerous mage. Especially Jennifer.

“Welcome, Talon V’lyn, and Lady Jennifer. I am happy to report the general safety of your guild, but I’m sure Sebastian will be more fitting to supply a proper situation report. Much has happened. I hope that your success has prevailed, and would like to apologize foremost for any trouble Dante may have been.”

The assassin looked over to the youth in question and gave a small smile. He nodded to Khrae as he let the reigns of his horse be taken by one of the young stable boys. With one arm wrapped around Jennifer's lean waist, he started forward towards the doors of his home.

“I would just like to point out that I have been helpful! I carried him.”

Reaching out, he patted the boys head, "He was helpful indeed. The horse was overburdened as it was," he commented lightly with a grin and a wink to Dante.

“Shall we proceed inside, then?”

Fay smiled warmly at the boy too, her head tilting a bit as she regarded him. Her dark eyes were warm as she watched him in return. For the Navile woman, Dante was intriguing to say the least. He had power, and she was curious about that. Maybe she would have a chance to talk to him later about it. For now, though, she simply walked up to him, took his arm and gently led him to the guild hall with everyone else.

Talon gave a nod to Khrae and opened the doors for them all to enter into. Upon further inspection, he could tell that something had happened when he'd left and he wondered briefly what it was. The feel of heavy magic was lingering in the air. Looking down to Jennifer, he lifted an eyebrow at her in question. A sound caught his attention and looking to the staircase, he caught Sebastian coming down it with a slight limp to his step.

The old assassin gave them each a nod of respectful greeting, "Lord V'lyn, Lady Jennifer, welcome home."

"It is good to be home. Tell me, what happened?"

Sebastian shook his head with a heavy sigh, "Nothing gets past you," he said as he hit the landing and gestured to the chairs around the hall, "This may take a moment. Also, the elf boy is awake, he'll join us soon."

As prompted, Talon allowed Jennifer to be released from his grip though he did dip down to kiss her cheek gently before he sat with her in one of the chairs. He listened as Sebastian retold what had happened when he'd left to retrieve Jennifer from her kidnappers. Apparently someone had broken into the guild hall and wreaked havoc on it. The elf, Armen, had been attacked specifically and a strange power released from him.

Armen was just barely keeping it under control, and the most recent event was something that Khrae had stumbled upon. They weren't sure but something had contacted the elf. Khrae thought it to be a dragon, but neither assassin or swordsman knew exactly what it was because Armen had been knocked unconscious from the encounter.

Almost as if on cue, the elf came down from the stairs and behind him was Fukayna. The young man took a seat with them when Talon motioned for him to do so. Leaning back, the assassin put his arm up over Jennifer's shoulders and tilted his head as he regarded the elf, "So, what happened? They tell me that a dragon is talking to you."

Armen's eyes grew wide and then he glanced around the room, "Well... yes, I think it is a dragon."

"It's been a long time since dragons picked life long companions, you should feel honored. They are creatures that are on the edge of extinction."

The elf nodded slightly, "He... told me that I should be wary of those in black cloaks. He also said that I need to come to him as soon as possible. That I don't have much time," Armen shook his head a bit, reaching up he ran his fingers through his dark hair, "I don't know what that mean's, but... it must be urgent."

Talon lifted an eyebrow as he glanced to Jennifer. He watched her for a moment. Inwardly he sighed. He'd been hoping he could spend at least the night with the woman. His lips pulled into a frown as he turned back to Armen, "If a dragon says its urgent it usually is. Can you feel him?"

"Yes... I think. In the mountains, just behind Skyfall. He is there, but just barely. It is almost as if he's being cut off from me on purpose."

"It's highly possible..." Talon's gaze darkened as he recalled the trapped dragons underneath Laowlee. With a bit of a sigh, the assassin leaned his head back, "We'll prepare to leave in a few hours," he said making his decision. His silvery gaze turned to the man they'd picked up on the way back to Skyfall. He narrowed his eyes at the white haired man who seemed to look like he'd been trapped by a pack of wolves.

Leaning forward, Talon addressed him, "Now. As for you. You will tell me who you are and why you were so intent on hiding yourself from Jennifer and myself earlier today. What kind of magic is it that you have? I can feel it just sitting here. I should warn you, should you so much as make a tiny increase of that power, I won't be so kind as I was last time."