Shattered Reflections [M]

[MorningStar]

@wandering_giraffe

——

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting an eerie glow over the dense woods just outside of Ketra. The sound of footsteps echoed through the trees as Ipsen, driven by a sinister compulsion, sprinted through the underbrush. His heart pounded in his chest, matching the relentless pursuit of the hounds and the distant shouts of authorities on his tail.

Darting between trees, Ipsen felt the adrenaline coursing through him, each step pushing him further away from the crime scenes that painted a gruesome tableau behind him. He expertly evaded the pursuit, guided by instincts that were not his own. The cold wind whipped through his disheveled hair as he vanished into the shadows.

In a concealed alcove, Ipsen found a momentary sanctuary. Breathing heavily, he clutched a tree, his eyes wide with a mix of exhilaration and dread. The barking of the dogs and the distant shouts faded away as he felt the transformation taking hold.

With a shuddering breath, Ipsen's demeanor shifted, his once predatory gaze replaced by confusion. Lowen Thorn blinked, disoriented, as if awakening from a haunting dream. His surroundings seemed unfamiliar, and a gap in time left him with a disconcerting void.

Soreness emanated from his limbs, and when he glanced down, horror seized him. Blood stained his hands and clothes, a gruesome tableau mirroring the scenes Ipsen had left in his wake. Panic set in as Lowen grappled with the chilling realization that he had no memory of the events that transpired.

Alone in the quietude of the woods, Lowen Thorn, oblivious to Ipsen's macabre escapades, found himself entangled in a web of mystery and darkness, with questions hanging in the air like the ominous shadows that surrounded him.

"Not again," Lowen whispered with a shaky breath. "What happened?"

[wandering_giraffe]

For it being evening tide, the tavern and inn outside Ketra was deserted.
Arya didn't mind that though, it made her job of finding her contact much easier. She had a short sleeved, silver hooded poncho on, a green tunic underneath, and was wearing black pants and lace up boots.
The bartender looked up as she came in, but she waved him off, her eyes scanning the room for her contact. He shouldn't be hard to miss, he was an elf with a long beard.
Ah, there he is. He was sitting in the back corner near the fireplace...and he was strumming a lute, humming and tapping the floor with his foot.
She quietly walked up to him and sat down. His lute disappeared like magic (it probably was) and a razor sharp dagger appeared in his hand, pointed straight at Arya.
"Hey, maybe if you weren't so intensely playing your fake lute you would have noticed me walking up to you."
He scowled, finally recognizing her.
"Oh. It's only you."
Arya folded her arms.
"Well? The bounty?"
He sighed.
"Patience. Why don't you get a drink? The wine here, surprisingly, is exquisite."
He swirled the wine around in his glass and sniffed it, a small smile playing at his lips.
"Eldrin...I don't have all night. I'm on a time crunch as it is."
He raised an eyebrow at her and dramatically sighed.
"A real shame. Means I have to drink all this wine by myself."
He reached into his pocket and brought out a very wrinkled piece of paper.
Arya snatched it from him like he was threatening to drop it into the fire and unfolded it, reading over it.
The paper read:
"Ipsen...armed, dangerous, and a killer. Bring in dead or alive. Bonus if brought in alive."
The paper followed with a brief physical description of Ipsen.
"He was last seen near Ketra...well this is convenient...I'm already near Ketra!"
"Thanks Eldrin I'll give you your cut afterwards!"
And she turned and was gone.

[MorningStar]

Lowen sat alone in the quiet confines of the inn, the scent of freshly laundered clothes replacing the lingering echoes of the night's chaos. His reflection in the mirror showed a cleaned-up version of himself, yet the shadows of uncertainty loomed in his eyes.

Attempting to dismiss the ominous feeling that clung to him, he murmured reassurances under his breath. "It's probably my own blood. Maybe I had a clumsy accident." His hands traced over the fabric, searching for reassurance, but the stains persisted.

He gazed at his reflection, willing himself to accept the plausible explanation. "No need to overthink. People get cuts and bruises all the time," he reasoned, trying to drown out the unsettling doubt gnawing at him.

The room seemed to close in on him as he wrestled with the disquiet in his mind. "I must've taken a fall or something. Nothing more," he muttered, a futile attempt to convince himself.

Yet, as he stared into the mirror, the gap in his memory yawned before him like an unfathomable abyss. A disconcerting sense of unease settled over him, refusing to be dismissed. The inn's tranquility stood in stark contrast to the turmoil within him, and the unanswered questions hung heavy in the air. The fear that something sinister had transpired persisted, casting a shadow on the fragile peace he sought in the inn's refuge.

Realizing that the inn held no answers, he opted to navigate the lively streets of Ketra in search of clues. Despite his quest, he pledged to maintain a discreet presence amid the bustling city.

Carrying a silent determination, he exited the inn, immersing himself in the dynamic rhythm of the streets.

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya had practically memorized the wrinkled wanted poster by now, Ipsen's face etched into her brain by this point. She kept one hand on her sword that was sheathed on her belt, and her eyes were scanning the people walking the streets of Ketra.
Nothing really stood out...a merchant peddling his wares, a dog barking at some oblivious man, another guy that kindof looked like Ipsen....That spelled trouble...come to think of it that guy looked exactly like Ipsen...she started to follow from a safe distance, suspicious eyes trained on her presumed target.

[MorningStar]

As Lowen discreetly meandered through the labyrinthine streets, the ambient murmur of the city enveloping him, his gaze inadvertently landed on a weathered board adorned with wanted posters. Among the assortment of faces, one sketch in particular sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. The wanted man was named Ipsen, and the uncanny resemblance to Lowen's own features struck a disconcerting chord.

"Ipsen," he murmured, scrutinizing the wanted poster. The details of the crime committed were frustratingly obscured, the ink too smudged to decipher.

A furrow creased Lowen's brow, a sense of worry briefly clouding his thoughts. He instinctively brushed it off, attributing the likeness to mere coincidence. Ipsen couldn't possibly be him; it was a folly of appearances. Determined to dismiss the disquieting notion, Lowen continued his journey through the bustling streets, attempting to silence the unease gnawing at the edge of his consciousness.

Yet, as he threaded through the maze of alleys and crowded thoroughfares, an unshakable feeling clung to him – the palpable awareness of being watched. Lowen's senses, finely tuned by a lurking unease, spurred him into action. His eyes scanned the surroundings with a heightened alertness, searching for an alley that would afford him a swift retreat into shadows, a place to confront the looming specter of being pursued. Each step bore the weight of his disquiet, and with a deft turn, he aimed to vanish into the anonymity of a nearby alley, a momentary refuge from the unsettling mysteries that trailed in his wake.

Someone was coming for him. He best be ready.

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya watched as he turned and seemed to nervously scan the crowd. She's seen that behavior before. The mark of a guilty man. Him turning gave her a chance to see his face better. It had to be Ipsen.
He ducked into an alleyway and she followed.
Wait where did he go? She drew her sword and her dagger.

"Ipsen, come out right now! The poster says dead or alive and I don't mind carrying a corpse."
Well actually she did mind...it got tiring after a while.

[MorningStar]

Navigating through the alleyway, ascending a rickety metal staircase, and negotiating a few precarious window sills, he reached a small vantage point above. From this concealed perch, he observed a figure descending, someone who had been trailing him.

A woman emerged, armed and emanating a formidable aura. Was she a bounty hunter or something else entirely? Yet, what truly captured his attention were her piercing eyes and the scar that traced its way along her face.

She was quite pretty, and in that moment, quite terrifying.

But, wait.

She said that name - Ipsen. She was referring to his lookalike on the bounty poster. Surely this was just a misunderstanding!

"I think you have the wrong guy," he called out from above her, his voice almost as shaky as his knees on the ledge. "I'm not this Ipsen person."

[wandering_giraffe]

Her eyes anxiously darted around the alleyway. Where did he go? She scanned above...his voice cut through the dark alleyway.
"I think you have the wrong guy."

Arya scoffed. She never had the wrong guy. She couldn't afford mistakes.
"Nice try, Ipsen. Get down here, don't make me come up there," she threatened, flipping her dagger and catching it.

[MorningStar]

"Uh, no thanks, I'll pass," he called from above, his balance teetering precariously. "And I'm being honest! I get it, that guy looks like me, but check it out – his eyes are totally black! Mine are hazel!"

Uncertain if the woman had the bounty poster on her person, he fumbled in his pocket for his own, crumpled it for weight, and tossed it down in her direction. "I'll show you," he urged as the paper fluttered to the ground, "but promise you won't pull anything!"

Even with her potential promise, trust eluded him, but his options were dwindling rapidly.

[wandering_giraffe]

"I have my own paper, punk!" she yelled at him as the paper promptly hit her in the head.
She scowled up at him.
"Why do you criminals always choose the hard way?" She muttered, flicking her dagger into a crate and then picking up a rock and weighing the feel of it in her hand.
"That's a long way to fall, you know," she casually stated, mentally doing some quick maths. She chucked the rock at him, picked her dagger up, and walked to the metal staircase, placing one foot on the first stair and staring up at him.
"I'm going to count to 3. If you don't start coming down from there by the time I get to 2 I'll just have to retrieve a corpse," she said, waving her dagger at him for good measure.

[MorningStar]

Gods, seriously? With the gaps in his memory, the perplexing dreams, the growing sense of dread, and the aftermath of last night's incident, did he really need this additional challenge?

"Alright, alright," he replied, his voice pleading for a bit of respite. "I'll come down, just stay put."

Deciding it might be wiser to ascend rather than descend, he attempted to climb higher. However, a misstep coupled with nervous tension sent him stumbling, and he began an unplanned descent to the ground.

"Shit bananas!" he exclaimed, desperately hoping for something or someone to break his fall.

[wandering_giraffe]

Well.

She could have predicted that.

If it had been anyone else trying to break this "not-Ipsen" fellows fall, both of them would have broken bones. But, as it was, it was Arya trying to break his fall. Truth be told, she was rather against killing people, and besides, she was getting a bonus if she brought him back alive.

She managed to catch him in a way that prevented him from hitting his head.
And then she found herself on the ground, with a very much alive and recently fallen "not-Ipsen" on top of her.
Oh good. She still had her dagger. Miraculous.
She gently poked him with it.
"Get off of me before i actually stab you with this," she growled.

[MorningStar]

Ow.

Well, sort of.

While the fall proved both unexpected and unforgiving, a softness beneath him suggested something broke his fall—a fortunate landing or perhaps an afterlife atop heavenly clouds.

Suddenly, a sharp poke jolted him, snapping him back to reality. "Oh," he murmured, regaining composure enough to realize what, or more accurately, who, had broken his fall.

Another "Oh!" escaped him, this time more frantic as he awkwardly shifted off her and rose to his feet. "I'm sorry, I—wait. My eyes. See?" He pointed to the hazel oak hue of his eyes, as if the color alone could clarify the peculiar situation to the woman.

[wandering_giraffe]

He got off of her and she indignantly got to her feet, dramatically brushing off her clothes.
She kept her dagger pointed threateningly at him. Well, until she saw the color of his eyes. He wasn't lying. They were hazel, not black. Her dagger slowly sunk to her side.

"Wait, so if you're not Ipsen, then who are you? Why do you look so much like him?"

[MorningStar]

He began to speak, albeit briefly, unsure of how to address the woman. The resemblance to this Ipsen character perplexed him, casting a shadow over recent unsettling events.

In fact, the mere mention of the name Ipsen triggered a dull ache in his head. Why, he wondered?

"I'm Lowen," he finally stated, cautiously eyeing the tip of her blade. "Lowen Thorn. And I couldn't tell you; I've never met the man in my life."

His gaze returned to her, a hint of pleading in his eyes, silently urging her to understand. "Can you put that away, Miss...?" he trailed off, an open invitation for her to share her own name.

[wandering_giraffe]

She reluctantly put away the dagger, keeping a hand close to its' sheath just in case.
"It's Arya...Arya Rathbone."
She suspiciously read over the wanted poster again, making sure she didn't mix something up. But no, the man's name on the poster was Ipsen, not Lowen.
"I'm sorry for the mixup," she finally said.
"Did you hurt yourself when you fell?" She questioned, anxiously glancing at him.

[MorningStar]

He smiled at her gestures – both the disclosure of her name and the sheathing of her weapon eased his tension. Her unexpected concern for his well-being was a pleasant surprise.

"I'm fine," he responded eagerly, casually brushing off his clothes. "I had something soft to cover—I mean, are you okay?"

As he awaited her response, a possibility raced through his mind. He couldn't deny his curiosity about why this Ipsen character bore such a striking resemblance to him. The thought lingered, suggesting it might hold the key to filling the gaps in his own memory. If she was in pursuit of Ipsen, it implied she possessed some knowledge about him. Perhaps, he mused, a working relationship could be forged.

[wandering_giraffe]

Did he just say 'something soft'?!?! The audacity, she thought indignantly to herself, an annoyed scowl crossing over her face.
"Yes, well, I'm perfectly fine, thank you. Worse things have happened to me. What did you have to gain by climbing up there anyways?"
She shook her head, not even letting the poor man answer her question.
"Actually, I've got a more pertinent question for you. Do you know who this Ipsen fellow is? Because I know a small bit about him. He's a dangerous murderer."
She decided that Lowen was way too nice to pose any sort of threat.
"I've got a couch you can crash on if you don't have a place to stay."
Honestly, the words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She did have a heart somewhere in her jaded soul.

[MorningStar]

She seemed... flustered, and he couldn't pinpoint the reason. Attempting to speak was a challenge, with her continuously cutting him off each time he tried to utter a word.

Summing it up: Ipsen, murderer, couch.

Wait.

Murderer?!

Wait, again.

A place to stay.

Clearing his throat, he offered her an apologetic smile. "Is my desperation that transparent?" he inquired, looking at her with gratitude. "I might not have much to offer, but," he trailed off, fully aware of his limited knowledge. Nevertheless, he couldn't refuse a place to lay his head, and he was eager to learn more about the the man too. "I'll contribute what I can in return for your assistance."

[wandering_giraffe]

Arya tried to keep her guard up...but around this Lowen man it was impossible.
"You can stay as long as you need to...I have some resources that we can utilize to find this Ipsen fellow...what is your interest with this Ipsen?" She wasn't suspicious now, just genuinely curious.

————————

They arrived at her house, which was more of a small cabin. One room had the small kitchen, a small fireplace, an old but clean couch, and a wooden oak table for meals.
The other room was Arya's bedroom, divided from the other room by an animal skin from a mountain lion.
There was a small loft in the front of the house, which had some supplies, a few swords, and extra pillows and blankets.
She opened the door to her cabin and then stopped, whirling around on Lowen and pointing her dagger at him.
"If you so much as steal a fork from my kitchen I will slit your throat and hang you outside to dry. Got it?"
She then went inside, leaving him to follow her in.
"The couch is there. Let me grab you a pillow and a blanket as well."
She clambered up to the loft and threw onto the couch a down feather pillow and a soft blanket, before nimbly jumping down herself.
"I'll be in my room if you need anything. Don't bother knocking, it's not like there's a wooden door anyways."