||Sevren Denoir||
I don one of the suits that the male servers wore, a simple white button-down garment, a red waistcoat, black trousers, and shoes. My right hand stuffs my previous clothing in a burlap sack, tying it on the neck before storing it on my ring, which I tucked in my pocket since no accessories were allowed.
"There you go, good as new," my fingers comb my hair, patting my shoulders of any filth. I push on the bathroom doors and proceed to the kitchen on the other side.
Entering, the room was filled with a platoon of cooks working in their respective stations. Despite the unnerving clamor of pots, and pans; the barking of orders here and there; the scramble of things happening every second, it didn't feel chaotic, it was rather harmonic as the entire staff moved in unison, not one interrupting the routine of the other. I grab a tray that was on one of the long tables, it filled with desserts. I mount it in my right hand, and hoist it just above my shoulder.
"Finally!" A man breathes out as he sees me pick the tray up, "Go on, mate."
"Keep up the good job," I reply back, my left thumb perking upwards as I stretch my arm towards him, beaming a smile.
He stops stirring a pot that is filled with what seems to be caramel. His gaze jumps to me, scoffing, "You worry about yourself, kid."
He maintained eye contact for a second more, showing nothing but the overbearing fatigue slowly taking a toll on his body. Beads of sweat channeled down his face, which he promptly wipes with a towel that his left hand always clutches.
I headed towards the west exit of the kitchen, which was closer to the ballroom. With my shoulder, I pushed the two wooden doors that creaked as they opened. The noise of the kitchen clashed with the loud ambiance of the party, music, and chatter flooding my ears.
As soon as I step into the large venue, I immediately sense his presence, and my eyes shift toward him. He was with them, as he intended. Despite the distance, his eyes merely jump to the right, both of us making eye contact. He didn't even have to scan around. His eyes merely locked on me the second I gazed at him.
A creeping chill runs down my spine, the hairs of my skin rising up. It was kind of eerie. He blinks, and his gaze returns to his companions.
My mind snaps back from the encounter, reminding me of the assignment. Dismissing the short interaction, I continued on. Passing by, I mingle with the environment. Serving desserts to guests of the party while walking in a general direction, north.
"Enjoy, milord."
"Our finest, desserts, milady."
"We hope you like it."
I kept reciting lines as I pass by, serving what was on the round tray I held.
Sir Alexander and Norock are at the front of the ballroom, entertaining a group of guests that had formed a crescent around them. Outside of the crowd was a man with grey hair and a senile expression that contrasts with his active physique. Strands of white on the side of his head streaked his hair which was combed towards the back. What he wore was nothing to note of, it was typical formal wear.
The man was conversing with another, laughing while they drank from tall glasses filled with what looked like champagne. He happily wipes a tear, before responding with another fit of chuckles.
"Lord Beathan," I call out, catching his attention while I walk towards him, doubling my pace.
He paused, inspecting me before laying his eyes on the tray I held, "Ah yes, desserts. Thank you, young man."
My hands lowered themselves, while he took one of the plates with a slice of cake in them, "Chocolate, my favorite." He grabs a plate, the last one on the tray.
With the tray empty, I tucked it on my left, between my arm and torso. Leaning closer, he pauses, taken aback, but then complies and moves closer.
"Syphas Tybur has been killed," His face immediately flinches, the happiness he displayed crumbles, replaced with a blank and ominous stare.
"Who are you?" He questions, lowering his voice but making his tone firm. Despite his change, I still find it comical due to his old face, and the fact that he has chocolate lightly covering his mouth.
"The men you've hired will all disappear, one by one," I whisper. He didn't react, nor did he show any signs of caring but he was earnest to listen.
"...Then I suppose, that means I'm next." He sighs, disgruntled and fidgeting his collar.
"Yes. Unless you follow my instructions,"
He opens his mouth, then closes it before opening it again while his fingers massage his beard, "I have no choice," he answers which was followed by a heavy sigh.
"No, you don't, Beathan Glayder."
"Glayder..." He pauses, wryly smiling as a scoff escapes his mouth, "Haven't heard that one in years."
||Grey Hierghund||
Sevren's already making his move, good.
"So, how long have you known Varay?" Kaspian asks, raising an eyebrow. He immediately scrutinizes my appearance, scanning his eyes from top to bottom. The other remained neutral, only holding an inflexible gaze.
"Since last week, Sir Kaspian. Lady Varay and I are acquainted with each other due to my father's business with Lord Reoite." I answer. He silently nods in reply.
For some reason, his body was tense. No matter how hard he tries to conceal it, I could feel a small buildup of cautiousness from him. Your senses are sharp, boy...
"It's quite rare for someone to catch Varay's interest, let alone be someone who's considered acquainted with her." Bairon states, adding himself to the conversation, "I mean no offense, I'm merely pointing it out."
"Certainly I take no offense, Sir Bairon." I reply, bowing down, "My name is Grey, son of Alexander Hierghund."
"Judging by your words a while ago, we would need not to introduce ourselves. We are pleased to meet you," He spoke on behalf of Kaspian, who lowered his head for a second.
"Hierghund? You must be one of Viscount Norock's guests then?" The boy asked to confirm, pointing at me before his hand was quickly swatted by Bairon.
"That would be the case," I confirmed, subtly nodding my head once.
"I see."
"I've heard your household's name across a significant portion of the high society," Bairon states, slightly raising his glass, "I want to congratulate you and your father for your earnest work. I only wish nothing but prosperity."
A server timely offers me a drink of wine. My hand reaches for the bridge of the glass wine, nearing it towards Bairon and Kaspian until our glasses click, "I thank the both of you."
I feel a cold presence in my immediate left, my whole arm feeling numb as a chill courses through my entire body. It was Varay, a dark shadow casting below her bangs, her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips slightly creased downwards.
"I'm sure you two are dying to know what's up," She first speaks, her voice firm and rumbling, "A while ago, I was almost killed. At first, they tried poison, but that didn't work. Second, a more radical approach, but it's been dealt with."
The two paused, unsure of how to react. Their moods were certainly tense, after all, Varay's not the type to jest on such things.
Bairon clears his throat before opening his mouth, "Shouldn't we be reporting this?" He asked. Kaspian, meanwhile, kept his silence, eager to learn more about the situation.
"No, I have reason to suspect I'm not the only target. Reporting this incident would only worsen the situation." She reasoned out.
Just as she finishes speaking, Bairon froze up, showing symptoms like Varay before him. Kaspian steps up to help, but Diane blocks him by raising her arm.
"What are you doing?" Kaspian asks, clutching Diane's arm. He raises his eyebrow, wanting to raise his voice but suppressing himself from doing so as he tightens his voice on his last words.
"Trust me," were the only words she could say, a bead of sweat dripping down the side of her head.
"Alright," He clicks his tongue, still displaying concern on his face. His arm lets go, which makes Diane lower hers.
After a couple of seconds, Bairon returns to normal, beads of sweat dripping down his forehead, "Shit, I thought I was gone."
His breathing was labored, coughing hoarsely as he lowered his upper body, right hand covering his mouth.
"The poison was already starting to pass its due date. You can still feel the symptoms, but you'll live." Varay pats Bairon on the back, helping him as he coughs.
"So, what's the plan?" Kaspian asks Diane, "Obviously they're taking out Varay and Bairon first, the strongest ones in the room."
"I have one." I raise my hand, calling the attention of the four. I'll need to prove my worth to these guys in order to gain their trust, "We'll need to split up into two groups..."
||3rd Person||
"Behind the festivities of the party is a game of life and death. The desperation, and tension, all muted by the laughter and music. It is as he planned." A man with crimson hair mutters under his breath, observing the ballroom from the balcony.
Beside him was another man with pale skin, sunken eyes, and feet covered in ice, leaning on the balustrade with a knife driven into his chest. It was a clean kill, no blood was found within the vicinity of the scene.
His eyes observe the corpse, which no one seems to notice yet. A woman walks up to him with stern eyes and a calm expression, unfazed by the dead body before her.
She clears her throat before opening her mouth, "Gestalt, she's moving, a company of five with her. Lord Beathan has been spotted with an unknown man trailing behind him."
"Uninvited guests," the man, who identifies as Gestalt, scoffs, tidying his suit, "You can't always avoid them."
"Shall I proceed with the contingent?"
"It would be best if we retain our course of action," He replies, his hands gliding on the back of the dead man, "Lord Beathan would be displeased if we took liberties. Besides, she's as he said where he would be."
"Very well, I'll have the men prepare." She says before departing, disappearing from his gaze as people pass by her figure.
Diane wears a worried look on her face, a bead of sweat channeling down her left cheek. Varay's arms were crossed, hugging her stomach while Grey was in front of the two, parting the wave of people who were blocking the way.
"Lady Diane and Varay! I've never thought I would be so close to them."
"Show some respect, your indecency will cause nothing but vexation."
"The two are certainly the most stunning of all in the ballroom."
"I feel honored to be in their presence."
Whispers engulfed those who were passed by the two, however, Grey wasn't spared of the commotion.
"He's quite the figure,"
"Isn't he the son of Alexander Hierghund?"
"The son of a merchant, and two acclaimed nobles? Quite a sight to behold."
"Hush, I don't want to hear any gossip."
"You're just in denial that he got a pass from Lady Varay while you didn't."
Grey internally rolls his eyes, a non-existent scoff exhaling from him.
The music of the ballroom slowly becomes echoing hymns as the three further move away from the party. Varay and Diane's shoes reverberate hollow steps as they maintain their pace. The three take a left turn, continuing to the extension of the grand hallway.
"Say, aren't you two related?" Grey asks, his head turned back towards them.
"Yeah, you could say that," Diane answers while Varay responds with a nod. Seeing this, he turns his head back around, still maintaining the tempo of his footsteps as he leads front of the group.
"It's quite unfortunate that the night turned out as it was," He continues with a somber tone, "I was hoping for something more auspicious."
Varay 'winces' in pain, her legs subtly trembling as she took each step. Even with Diane supporting her weight, her stride gets weaker and weaker. As a result, the three slowed down.
"Stay with us, Varay. We're getting close to the house's infirmary." Diane consoles her.
"Tsk," Grey clicks his tongue, stopping. Six figures saunter into the hallway, all draped in black coats, dark shadows cast over their face. Four blockaded the front, while two were at the rear.
"Shit," Varay hisses, Diane flicking her eyes towards her side, "My mana...it's blocked."
The ice mage stretches out her right arm. However, not a single mana particle heeded her call. She retracts her hand immediately, knowing any attempt to restore her power is futile.
"Can you augment yourself?" Grey asks, maintaining eye contact in front.
"No,"
One of the men laughs, a red-colored dagger sliding into his right hand, "You've realized." He twirls his weapon around his head, demonstrating his skill in handling the weapon.
Grey lowers his stance, pivoting his right foot forward while the left foot inches to the back. He clenches his cane tightly, a smirk slowly forming.
"It would be unwise," the mysterious assassin remarks.
"You're right,"
He twirls back, tossing his cane towards Varay, who immediately leaps, revealing that her sick state was but a ruse. Drawing the hidden blade, she ducks and slides towards Grey's left just in time to block the charging man who aimes between the young merchant's eyes.
A bead of sweat drips down from him as he retreats towards Diane.
"Nice moves, but you must be forgetting something," The assassin retreats from the ice mage, his left arm raised.
The five other people around the three draw out small weapons that were a dagger's length in size. The weapons featured curved wooden handles and had a narrow metal tube attached above the wooden frame, the assassins aimed their weapons, both equipping a single one in their left hands.
Diane looks in perplexity, baffled by the unfamiliar objects. A glimmer hits her eyes as the light reflects from the barrel. Her senses tingled, stomach churning.
"Varay!" She immediately calls out, causing her to launch herself backward. The girl immediately drops her hands to the floor, causing an earth dome to emerge from the ground, enveloping the three.
"Fire!" The mysterious man barks out, causing loud bangs followed by a ball of fire and smoke to erupt from the objects they held. Cracks begin to appear from the barrier. Small holes allowed rays of light to pass through.
"Is anyone hurt?" Varay asks, looking at the two.
"We're fine," Grey responds while Diane shakes her head.
Another series of crackling booms erupt, causing a second barrage to pierce through the barriers. A beam of yellow light passes through one of the holes, grazing Varay's arm before impacting the ground.
In response, a second layer of stone was conjured, covering the holes above. Grey pulls out a small pocket watch and opens it. A luminous crystal brightens the space around them, revealing a pool of blood dripping from Varay's left arm.
"Don't mind, it's only a light wound," She says as Grey inches closer. Her hand pinches out what buried itself on the ground that was surrounded by a crater. Her fingers touch a small, warm metallic sphere, which she intently studied.
"...?"
.
.
.
"Did you hear that?" Kaspian whispers to Bairon, who was standing beside him.
"Yes, I did." He confirms.
Despite the loud noise of the party muting anything from the outside, the two hear two sets of sharp crackling from a faint distance.
"Think that was them?"
"No doubt."
The two stopped just in front of Alexander and Norock. The people near them slowly decrease in numbers, their heads turning in shock at the sight of Bairon. On the corner of his eyes every person who notices his presence succinctly lowers their head before departing from his peripheral vision.
"Good evening, Sir Bairon," Norock was the first to greet, fully bowed with his waist, "It is an honor to have you as my guest. You as well, Sir Kaspian." He turns to the left.
"We hoped that tonight's event was fit for your liking," Alexander follows up, clasping his arms as he speaks to both the young men in front of him.
"It has, but you really don't need to mind it," Kaspian responds, a glass of wine in his right hand, "After all, this night is meant to commemorate your partnership to which I raise my glass."
*Clink*
"That reminds me, I haven't seen Lord Beathan. I wonder if he ever got my invitation letter." The merchant states, looking at his partner who scans the faces of every person he could see.
"I met him a while ago when I entered the manor. He must be somewhere, just enjoying the night at a distance." Kaspian responds.
"*sigh* Very well, either way, he's going to come sooner or later. That aside..." The viscount trails off and pulls out his golden pocket watch, flipping its lid as his eyes glanced at the time, returning it from where he snatched the accessory in a split second, "...I've prepared a little something for both the house guests and everyone else."