Roan stood alone on the lawn as the sun started to come up. The weak morning rays made the glass shards in the grass shimmer like jewels, making the destruction oddly pretty. He could hear Apollo, Jannosh and Myrnah talking in low, calm voices behind him in the house as they began the long process of cleaning up. Roan rubbed his neck, glancing unhappily behind him. Bono was at his feet, silent for once, as he stared up at the pale man.
At first, when the assassin had abruptly left, Roan had thought it was because he was outnumbered. He had been surprised at the anger that flared up when he'd realized that Emery was gone. "Where's Lilah taking her?" He'd snapped at Apollo.
The vampire had been looking glumly at the ruined piano. This was the second time he would have to replace it. "Gorlan Fay." Apollo replied calmly. "Stone Assassins can't go in water."
Roan had stared at him across the ruined room, struggling to compose himself. From the looks of it, the assassin had burst in through the back - glass, wood and plaster littered the dusty room, and small craters signalled where the spells had hit. Feathers from the destroyed couches still floated in the air, and snapped wood stuck out like giant splinters from the walls and floors. Black stained the walls were Roan's fire had blazed; it was a miracle the house was still standing.
"I promised Felix I'd keep her safe." Roan's voice was calmer.
"And she will be." Apollo assured him, looking up to meet Roan's gaze. "Lilah will take care of her, I swear it on my life. No harm will come to her down there, Roan."
With a sigh, Roan had stormed out into the lawn.
He really wasn't sure why he was so upset. He didn't doubt Lilah's abilities; his memory of the day she'd killed Castrone, the most infamous witch in the world, right before his eyes was still crystal clear. The former human was stronger than she'd looked - despite her size, her determination and tenacity had inspired awe in him.
But Emery... Roan was quiet at the thought of her. He didn't know why he felt such a powerful need to take care of her. He thought back to the day the Commerce Building had burned; he'd watched as she'd sunk to her knees, the anguished sounds coming from her slicing him straight to the bone. That explosion hadn't just decimated the great building - it had ruined her life. Roan hadn't been away from her side since. The absence of her quick sarcasm and dark, intelligent blue eyes now was disconcerting.
Roan stood there brooding as the sun continued to rise, before a thought occurred to him. His long legs carried him back into the house. Bono squeaked and hurried after him.
"Why can't Stone Assassins go in the water?" He demanded.
Apollo looked up. He was on his knees, ripping up ruined floorboards with his bare hands. Behind him, Myrnah was sweeping up glass, and her husband was dragging the shattered piano through the back door.
"Aren't you an information dealer?" Apollo teased lightly. It was slightly bizarre, how easy it was for him to joke amidst the ruin that was his home. "Shouldn't you be telling me these things?"
Roan rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "You know better than I do that Stone Assassins were before my time. All I have on them is that they're a resource that's fading from use; barely anyone hires them anymore. The last recorded sighting of them was almost a century before I was born."
"Alright, alright." Apollo ripped up another floor board as if it was a paper. His beautiful eyes were thoughtful as he pushed his dark hair out of his face. "I've never come across one personally, but from what acquaintances have told me, they're fallen faeries."
Roan raised an eyebrow. "Fallen faeries? Like... fallen angels?"
"No, no, angels aren't real." Apollo waved the thought away. "They're faeries born without wings. Abandoned at birth."
Roan was even more confused, and Apollo didn't miss the look on his face.
"It's extremely rare. No one knows who finds these poor children, and who teaches them. But they're versed in magic and killing - they're raised to be killers, which is what makes them so dangerous."
"Well why can't they go in the water then?" Roan was frowning, visualizing little faerie children with no wings. The wings made the faerie; as horrible as it was, he understood why their parents abandoned them.
"Faeries aren't born with magic like elves are, but there's magic in the wings." Apollo explained. "Without them, they might as well be humans. No one knows quite why, but exposure to large amounts of water can kill Stone Assassins. It eats at their skin, corrodes their bones. It's rather strange, really." Apollo mused, his eyes faraway as he visualized it. "Normal faeries are fine, but assassins... well, it's their mysterious fatal flaw I suppose."
Roan digested this. "If only we had a portable water cannon." He sighed wryly.
"Oh, but you do." Apollo looked up again, tearing off another floorboard with a snap. His face was serious.
"What do you mean?"
"You didn't recognize Emery's ring?" Apollo asked, his voice faintly incredulous.
Roan raised an eyebrow. "Should I have?"
Apollo regarded him quietly. Behind them, Jannosh and Myrnah were talking in low voices, their rapid Russian too quick to catch.
"No, I guess you wouldn't." Apollo mused. "You never knew your parents."
Roan strode over to Apollo in two long strides. He crouched down so that his eyes were level with the vampire's. "What does Emery's ring have to do with my parents?"
"Quite a lot, actually." He looked back at him squarely. "Every waif had a ring like that, except your parents' rings would have been red."
Roan flinched in shock.
Apollo reached out and clasped Roan's shoulder. "Emery's a waif, Roan." He told him firmly. "Just like you."
---------------------------
"That man has to be the slowest damn elf in all the magical world." Hargrem snarled, leaning angrily against the balcony. It was the same one Felix Fleur had stood on the previous night; the crowd moving below it was extremely similar, if not the exact same.
From inside the dilapidated room, a pretty elf lounged against a stained wall. She threw a look over to wear a hulking mongool sat primly and quietly on an ancient couch; it was missing an arm, and a stain that looked suspiciously like blood spoiled most of the ratty fabric. His yellow eyes met hers, and he fought to hold back a laugh.
"Regardless of how slow he is." She called out to the werewolf. "He's our boss, so you should shut your mouth."
"I'm sure Master Hiegrin will be here shortly." The mongool added on quietly, his thickly accented voice whispering out the balcony doors.
Hargrem turned to glare at his team members. They looked back at him baldly. The werewolf was the newest member of their team, and he had proven difficult to deal with from the start. In his human form, the man sported a bristly red beard and a heavily tattooed scalp. One wild blue eye snapped between the elf and the mongool; the other eye had been lost in the Faerie War, along with a couple fingers. His huge form could barely contain the rage that had grown like a disease in him since the war ended, and it had made him irritating to discipline and even harder to spend time with.
"What are the lot of you, his fans?" The werewolf sneered.
Eisla, the beautiful elf, was the leader. She was thin but wiry, her pale blonde hair shorn close to her skull and making her heavily pierced, pointed ears seem even more prominent. She was twirling a thin silver sword lazily as she waited, the tip twinkling as it whistled past her face. Dismissing the traditional goblin made armour of her people, she favoured the leather armour of the mongools - the elves supposed sworn enemies. Her light blue eyes shot a look at Guo now, wondering just when the mongool's patience would snap.
Guo was still as always, his huge hands folded on his lap. He was huge even for a mongool; thick bands of muscles rippled under his dark green, reptilian skin. Like Eisla, his coarse black hair had been shorn off - it got in the way during battle. Tattoos surged up from under his leather breast plate and fanned across his collarbone; at his waist, a weapons belt was loaded with multitudes of razor sharp knives. His tail had been fitted with a spiked cudgel ball that didn't seem to weigh a thing to him. His overall appearance was the most menacing of the three, but he was actually the calmest and most level-headed of the three. It was a reflection of his strict Chinese heritage that made him sit with his back straight without breathing a word of impatience. He looked patiently at Hargrem now, his reptilian eyes peaceful.
"Not fans." He replied softly. "Loyal employees."
Hargrem scoffed, turning back to glare into the street. "Bloody mongools." He muttered to himself as his one eye scanned the crowds below him.
Eisla rolled her eyes and went to sit by Guo, massaging her temple as she went. They'd met during the Faerie War; it was Apollo Ambrosia who had suggested that the elves and the mongools team up, and it had turned out to be an excellent battle strategy. The chemistry that had sprung up between Eisla and Guo had nothing to do with romance - they'd cut through hordes of faeries like they were nothing, coming out of the war unscathed. They fought perfectly together, and that was part of the reason that they still worked together now.
Guo looked at the elf now, concern showing on his thick skinned face. "Are you alright, Eisla?"
She smiled dryly at the giant mongool. "Eight more months, Guo, old friend." She murmured under her breath. "Eight more months till that dirty pup's contract is finished."
"You shouldn't call him that." Guo admonished her.
"Yeah, yeah." She yawned, looking at a banged up watch on her wrist. "I promise to be nicer."
"I didn't hire you to be nice."
Eisla and Guo looked in unison at the entrance to the room. The giant rusty door always creaked bloody murder whenever it was opened, but the ancient elf had somehow managed to slip into the room unheard. He was in his customary woolen cloak in spite of how warm it was that day, and his trusty old pipe was clutched tightly in his spidery white hands. Cold blue eyes met Eisla's and Guo's before looking out into the balcony.
"Get in here, Hargrem." He commanded as he shuffled further into the room.
Hargrem glowered, but reigned in his usual bursts of anger. Despite all his pomp, the old elf really was his employer - the money was good. He thudded into the room, slamming the rickety balcony doors shut behind him.
"So what's this job you got for us?" The werewolf demanded, sitting himself down on a rotting wooden armchair.
"I didn't get you anything." Hiegrin said slowly, calmly. "We were hired for something very interesting."
"Interesting?" Eisla leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. "Interesting how?"
Hiegrin didn't answer right away; he took his time as he lit his pipe. Hargrem huffed angrily as the old elf blew out several green orbs of smoke. The elf looked at him coldly, his light blue eyes hard.
"You aren't to kill who you find." Hiegrin said, his words floating up like his pipe smoke. "You're to bring them back to our client."
"Bring them back?" Eisla's other eyebrow went up. "If you need them questioned, we can do that where we find them - "
Hiegrin shook his head. "Our client wants him for himself."
"I see." Guo said calmly.
"I don't know if I'll be able to do that." The werewolf grinned nastily, revealing yellowed teeth. "I'm hired for killing, not babysitting some scum."
"You're hired for my bidding, or else you're useless to me." Hiegrin said sharply, effectively wiping Hargrem's grin off his face. The werewolf glowered back at him.
There was short silence, where nothing except the floating globes of smoke moved. "Am I clear?" Hiegrin asked silkily.
"Yes, Master." Guo bowed his head in affirmation. Eisla nodded beside him, and Hargrem simply sniffed in contempt.
"Good." Hiegrin ignored the werewolf, his free hand reached into his cloak. Eisla leaned forward eagerly to see what he pulled out; her face was crestfallen when all he pulled out was a strip of fabric.
Guo, however, narrowed his eyes. "Master, is that...?"
"Yes. From a Stone Assassin." Hiegrin held it up so that they could all see. Hargrem squinted with his one good eye at it. "The person you are all contracted to find is the one who hired him. Our client is Felix Fleur; you report to him when we are done here."
"Well that'll complicate things." Eisla mused, trying to hide the fact that she'd started at Felix's name. She inwardly tried to convince herself that she was talking about the job, not the man. "He obviously doesn't want to be found if he's hiring one." She looked at her employer, clearing her throat. "Have you tried summoning the assassin yet?"
The old elf shook his head. "I wanted to inform you all of the job before things got messy."
"Very smart, Master." Guo was nodding solemnly.
"Alright." Eisla climbed to her feet, stretching her neck. "We all ready?"
Hargrem jumped to his feet, immediately puffing out his chest. "Never fought one of those bastards, but it's a new addition to the list." He was grinning again.
Eisla rolled her eyes. "We need the assassin alive if we want to know who he works for, you git."
"What did you call me?!" Hargrem roared, his eye bulging.
"Enough!" Hiegrin snapped. "All of you in position, now!"
Eisla and Hargrem glared at each other, but they didn't say anything else. The willowy elf picked a spot by the balcony doors, Guo lumbered gracefully over to guard the door to the room, unsheathing two daggers as he went, and Hargrem stayed in the middle of the room, next to Hiegrin. The werewolf sneered at the elf before falling on his knees; Hiegrin watched coolly as red fur immediately began to sprout from the man, small pops and cracks sounding from deep within his body as his bones shifted. After a few seconds, a giant red wolf stood beside him, looking up impatiently with a single yellow eye.
When the room was still, Hiegrin took the black piece of gauze and dropped it into his pipe. It burned up in an instant, instantly making the air thick with the scent of something uncomfortably reminiscent of charred flesh.
"We summon you, Stone one." Hiegrin said simply, quietly. He puffed on the pipe, his eyes immediately watering at the acrid taste.
Three pairs of eyes watched silently as the old elf slowly blew out a giant, acid yellow orb of smoke. Even after the smoke left his papery thin lips, the smoke continued to slowly grow, floating up lazily in the middle of the room till it almost touched the ceiling. Everyone watched, muscles tensed for action, as the yellow globe rose steadily and steadily.
Finally, it touched the ragged ceiling and disintegrated with a barely audible pop. Its contents were not at all what the group was expecting.
Eisla cried out in surprise at the furious ball of fire that lit up the room and exploded with a small boom. The force knocked her back, making her head crack against the edge of the balcony doors, and she looked up with a moan to see that both Hiegrin and Hargrem had been thrown back as well. Hiegrin's cloak was on fire, but he lay unmoving. Guo had managed to stay standing, but he was looking up with a mixture of horror and amazement as the fire reflected in his yellow eyes.
Eisla saw in horror that the fire wasn't dissipating - in fact, it was growing. The light was blinding, but she forced herself to look, even as tears streamed down her pale face - there was a figure in the ball, the fire setting him afloat in the middle of the room.
The voice that filled the room was enraged and terrible.
"Stay out of what doesn't concern you." The voice snarled. "And maybe then I'll spare your life."
Eisla watched with wide eyes, as she half-crawled, half ran over to Hiegrin's side. "Hiegrin?" She whispered, her voice strained. She rolled the elf over, and she inhaled quickly at how still the man's eyes were. They were open, but they saw nothing.
An animal snarl, not unlike his usual burst of fury, sounded from deep in Hargrem's throat. He leapt at the ball of fire, his jaws snapping angrily. He managed to penetrate the wall of flames, but he was instantly thrown back as the fire exploded out again with a roar that was eerily human. Hargrem's tail was on fire, but he whipped it against the wall quickly and put it out. He leapt again, once again jumping into the middle of the globe of fire, but to Eisla's unease, he didn't come out again.
A high, keening sound started reaching fever pitch, and maniacal laughter filled the dirty room. Eisla couldn't tear her eyes away; two figures floated suspended in the ball - one of them was human shaped, but the animal one was clearly Hargrem. Her eyes widened as his silhouette began to erode, as if eaten away, as if peeling away. In an awful moment of clarity, she realized what the keening sound was.
The pounding of footsteps was what made her tear her eyes away. Guo's face was stony and determined as he hurtled toward her; with complete ease, he plucked the small elf up and into his arms, and continued running.
The keening sound were strangled screams now, high and guttural and terrible. The laughter was the worst part though; whoever it belonged to was almost hysterical, the peels of his laughs echoing around the room. Just as Guo reached the balcony doors, the ball of fire exploded with an ear shattering boom.
Guo and Eisla were thrown against the doors; the mongool's bulk easily smashed through the grimy crystal. He curled himself into a ball around Eisla, and they sailed out past the balcony into the seething mass of people below. The cries of indignation and pain instantly turned into panicked shouts as a burst of flames roared out past the balcony. Guo and Eisla hastily climbed to their feet, ignoring the pushing and shoving as mayhem broke out in the street.
Eisla looked up just in time to see the globe of fire sail out through the ruined balcony doors; there was only one silhouette now, and it was the original. The sight of it scared the crowd even more, terrified screams rent the air as people scrambled to get away.
Their fear was unnecessary though. The ball of fire began to sail away, flames roiling around an invisible ball as it flew.
"Where is it going?" Guo asked, an immovable force as people jostled desperately past him.
Eisla brought her elbows up, ignoring the cries of pain as people inevitably ran into her. She didn't answer right away, watching the flaming ball as it slowly grew smaller.
Her pale blue eyes widened. "He's going for Felix."
"The client?" Guo asked in surprise.
"Guo, let's go!" Eisla was already moving; with liquid-like grace, she was leaping and sidestepping around the panicked crowd as if they weren't there. Guo was less delicate. He barrelled after her, knocking people out of the way like bowling pins.
Across the city, Felix Fleur was sitting in one of the several great judgment chambers. He was only one of hundreds of people seated there; the great room was filled with people like him who were equally if not more bored than him. On the circular dais far below him, an aged faerie droned on about yet another policy change for all who worked in the Council Chambers building.
He sighed and slid down just a little lower in the wide crystal chair he was seated in. Rubbing at his eyes wearily, his mind wandered to his niece, not for the first time that day. Felix wondered where she was; Roan Ryker had promised that he would keep in contact, but Felix received nothing but silence. He supposed it was the best, he thought reluctantly; he didn't want the assassin finding Emery because of him.
Felix was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice the faint boom that made the walls of the chamber tremble - he didn't even look up when his fellow chamber representatives started murmuring uneasily amongst themselves. However, when the floating lights suddenly turned a blood red, his silvery eyes snapped up in alarm. The light pixies were sensitive - they knew of trouble long before anyone else did.
There was another boom, closer now, and dread pooled in Felix's stomach. The murmuring was increasing in pitch, the anxiety making the light pixies flicker between green and red. The tragedy of the Commerce Building had happened too recently, and people were more afraid than they would have normally been.
"Now, now, everybody." The aged faerie was croaking. "May I please have your attention, the lecture isn't finished yet - "
He was cut off by screams as a ball of flames suddenly burst through the wall, sending shards of crystal into the air, the light from the flickering flames drowning out the soft light that the pixies produced. Felix stared in horror; there seemed to be someone in the ball, and he was livid. Felix couldn't understand what he was bellowing at first.
People were screaming and climbing over the seats, pushing each other out of the way in a desperate attempt to get out. Felix followed, glancing back every few seconds at the hovering mass of flames. He had just reached the door, wincing as a mongool stomped on his foot, when the sound of his name made his head whip around.
"Felix Fleur!" The voice was roaring. "Felix Fleur, wherever you are, hear me now!"
Felix's eyes widened in fear. He turned away again, pushing past people desperately. Just outside the door, he slammed himself against the wall, letting people pass. He hoped no one would notice his features changing; Felix forced his skin to become leathery with age, made his hands lined and knobby. His thick dark hair receded into his scalp, turning white and wispy. He couldn't change the colour of his eyes, so he opted for something to distract onlookers from them - bone white antlers sprouted from his forehead, curling and reaching so that they stuck out quite far from his head.
Satisfied that he looked like a witch, Felix peered back into the chamber. It was practically empty, save for a few people who had been unlucky enough to be knocked out in the mad dash to escape from the fire, or impaled by huge shards of crystal. The ball had grown bigger as the figure shouted; soot stained the crystal walls where tongues of fire had gouged it, and despite the cavernous confines of the room, it was as hot as the inside of a volcano.
"Felix Fleur!" The figure was still bellowing. "If you want to live, stay far away from Emery Stoneway! She belongs to me, and I will have her at whatever cost."
Felix stared up, aghast. He had never seen anything like this, and it made the situation his niece was in even more dire.
"My quarrel is not with you." The voice was snarling from where he was suspended. "But I will not hesitate to end you if you get in my way. Call off your trackers, stop looking for my assassin, and your precious life will be spared."
The fire ball had grown to almost half its size, and its creator, satisfied that his message had been delivered, decided now was the time to leave. Felix threw himself from the doorway as the ball exploded; fire roared out like rabid animals, the blaze so bright it seared past Felix's closed eyelids.
In its absence, it was too dark, too quiet. Felix climbed shakily to his feet, looking around apprehensively. He was the only one left in the great crystal hallway; its echoing confines were completely devoid of another soul. Felix peeked cautiously back into the great chamber. The walls were seared black, and the pixies no longer gave off light, no doubt incinerated in the fiery explosion.
Whoever the silhouette belonged to was gone, leaving nothing but ashes.
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