Spirits of the Earth

The road was  lit by stray beams of moonlight, concealed mostly by a canopy of leaves. Autumn had nestled in throughout the kingdom, the air crisp and cool. Though it was dark, glints of gold and orange danced as the leaves fell to the ground, the pair of horses quietly treaded upon them. Abruptly, the leaves of an oak tree rustled as a seemingly young girl garbed in Connloathian garments suddenly dangled upside down from its branches. From her perch, she patiently waited for her companion and her own stead to arrive before smoothly flipping down to sit erect on his back. The girl gave a smug grin as Inkwell only twitched his tail and shook his head; he had long since stopped being spooked by his new owner's antics. He was a smart one, Maar had decided. A flying eagle really wasn't her thing, but a horse she could trade easily and this one had a brain, besides. Though her nails quickly grew in and her magic came back to her a bit quicker, during her time during hiatus, the fae had grown fond of the beast.

After it had came back, however, things became different. A few days before Tiraris and Awari had reached Darken Vei borders just two nights ago, the fae was swift to retreat back to her child form, and stubbornly refused to be addressed by her true name. Not too many knew of Awari, even those back at the base, and she intended to keep it that way. The fae took in a deep breath, in even higher spirits then she normally was.
It's good to be home, she reflected, Or at least in a forest that smells like one. She licked her lips as she took the lead. Tiraris and her didn't often travel this far past nightfall unless they were being pursued.
We still might be, she thought, though didn't mind it so much; some rather dedicated bounty hunters had tried to cut them off at the border, but the fiery duo had outfoxed them. Still, they were wanted fugitives; Maar doubted they have seen the last of them.

Maar directed Inkwell off of the road and into a trail that eventually lead towards a large clearing by a rocky mountain edge with a brook gently flowing besides it.  It was an old part of the forest, with ancient magic embedded deep in its soil; they were safe here, at least if only for the night.
"There's a village a day's journey from here," she said, thoughtfully, "We probably should press forward for a few more days, but we I think we can rest for a night or two and begin your lessons."
The fae jumped off her horse and stretched. The past two and so weeks had been eventful, though the creature knew her real work was still cut out for her yet.

"Show off," Tiraris grunted as her horse followed that of her teacher. The road had been long, and as the assassin had predicted, irritating. It suited her just fine that her teacher wished to be referred to as Maar but, the child's form was still unsettling. It would take her a moment to remember that this was not a little girl ordering her around but something much older. Not of course being older made much of a difference to Tiraris, she was not exactly one to be ordered about to begin with.

"What is the matter dearest? Afraid to travel by dark? Do not fear, mommy will protect you." It was the same taunt she made every night since Awari had returned to being Maar. Hopping down from her own horse, the assassin when through the nightly ritual of caring for the beast and then setting up camp. It saddened her some that their journey was almost over.

The child-like giddy hope of the lessons working had hardened once more into skepticism. It was only the horse that brought a faint smile to the assassin's lips now. The idea of parting, for surely she could not keep him, served to harden that shell even further.

Maar smiled sweetly at Tiraris' jeer, as she always did.
"Shouldn't I be more worried about that than the silly old dark?" she playfully retorted. That was her usual line, as part of their routine, if Maar could even it call it one.
"I'm off to fetch dinner," she announced as she skipping off into the dark, famished. Unlike Tiraris, she was glad their journey was almost over. She was glad to have Connloath behind her and the prospect of something new to experiment with. From the start, Maar knew this wasn't going to be easy, even more so with how she and her pupil clashed. The fae smirked; Tiraris' displeasure at her antics, from her tricks to the child-form had quickly become a primary source of amusement for Maar. Pushing people's limits always gave her kicks; the fae found she could learn a lot about a person this way, and Tiraris was so dynamic.  Besides, she rarely opened up about little else, up to this point.

Same, thought Maar as she looked up at the distant mountains.
She almost felt wistful for her home back with the Hawks, though the fae hadn't been gone for a terribly long period of time. The fae was almost fearful that her time with Tiraris would take quite a while, especially at the rate they were going. A twang of regret tugged at her heart; what had she been thinking, offering to help teach another student outside the King's permission?
I don't need permission to teach, she stubbornly thought as she silently pulled out  her daggers; what the woman didn't know wouldn't kill her. Besides, as Maar found, she was growing fond of Tiraris' company.

Despite her bum feeling sore from hours of riding, Maar scrambled up a tree and began to make her way through the branches, he eyes keenly searching the ground for prey. She watched as a will-o-the-wisp zip by, thankful it was too much in a hurry to notice her; though the fae could easily slip by it, the creatures were still notoriously bothersome. After a couple of minutes of nothing but snakes, mice, and the screeching of hunting fowls, Maar's eyes shone in the moonlight when they caught sight of a womger, native to the country. The creature was a stout brown thing with a prominent snout. It was chubby and short of legs and tail; currently, it was sniffing around the base of the trees. Maar slipped into the shadows of the tree to avoid making any noise. Then, she pounced.

With the creature that appeared to be a third of her size slung over her shoulder, Maar triumphantly returned to the camp on foot. She had tried to be careful to not get blood on her clothes, but the fae couldn't avoid getting some on her vest and gloves. Her eyes glanced over to the horses to make sure they were doing all right before she beamed at Tiraris.
"I'm back," she cheerfully said to Tiraris as a greeting, showing off her prize like a child.
"Did ya miss me?"

Tiraris glared at Maar in response. "Why is it when I am just starting to enjoy your absence you always show up? Would it kill you to get lost or something and take a really long time to return. I savor the quiet without you," she grumbled, laying down on her sleeping bundle and placing her arm over her eyes.

Since they had started spending more and more time together, the assassin had been suffering for longer periods of migraines. As of yet she had said nothing of them to her company but, she knew it was only a matter of time as they grew steadily worse and worse. 'It is listening to the brat for hours on end,' she would try justifying. Or, it is the false anticipation. My magic is just flowing more on the surface lately. It is nothing.'

Whatever the cause, Tiraris did know that they were painful and she was always glad for night when she could hide the pain in the cold and the dark. "Are you just going to stand there like a cat demanding praise over a dead mouse or are you actually going to cook that? What more do you need, an engraved invitation? There is a fire and everything you need. Just clean it and cook it, brat."

Maar thinly smiled at Tiraris' jab She knew her response was going to be less than warming, though it was quite annoying; she didn't escort this woman across country borderlines only to be treated like this.
Oh well, she thought. It would pass. After all, she knew better than to fight back; though she liked wearing this guise, she was above acting like a child.
Though doesn't mean I can't think like one, she thought, a little sorely, Spoiled noble.
Maar turned to the brightly burning fire and already made spit; at least the woman hadn't remained idle. With a sigh, she quietly settled down by the fire and began to set to work on cleaning her catch.

Her eyes wandered from the meat in her hands to Tiraris, who was now lying on her back with her arm concealing her eyes. Her lips twitched into a grim frown; this wasn't any good. The fae had noticed the woman growing snappier over the pass few weeks. At first, Maar had just assumed that this was normal behavior before it got worse. Then there was her magic...
It's restless, the fae mused as she contemplated which sticks were the better ones for roasting with. Throughout their journey, the fae had silently observed Tiraris' magic; for better or worse, it was growing. Why this was happening, the fae could not fathom, but it was clear that the woman was having difficulty handling it.
Thus the sour nature. It'll kill her if she continues on, stubborn thing.
Maar took in a deep breath as she began to roast their dinner using the spit Tiraris had made.  She had wanted to wait, but they needed to start doing things now.

"Get up," she ordered. Her tone was casual, as always, but there was a hard authoritative edge to it that normally wasn't present.
"This has gone on far enough, I think. Take your hands away from your face and sit up straight. Tiraris, if you know what's good for you, do so now."
The fae paused.
"Please," she added.

The assassin's ire flashed, forcing her magical aura out in a wave before hurriedly collapsing back inward. Her nostrils flared and her fists clenched with the struggle. In a dangerously low voice she addressed the other woman, no longer taking into account age and respect.

"The sun has gone done and the sister moon risen in her place. All day long I take your orders and endure your ear-shattering squawking. This is my only moment of peace. Go find someone else to bully. I have had enough of it for one day let alone those that have already come to pass and the many more that have yet to come. Just leave me alone!"

She would have continued too if Maar had not uttered that simple 'please' at the end. Something about it commanded Tiraris to sit up, spine straight and hands in her lap. Her eyes burned with pain and suppressed fire but her lips were tightly sealed. The urge to growl out a "what do you want now," was hard to keep locked within but somehow she managed.

For a moment she had forgotten who needed whom here. For a moment she misjudged the grounds she stood on. Hopefully though her silence would make up for it or at least keep her punishment for disrespect down to a small tongue-lashing. Although those never seemed to get through to her. Years of ignoring her mother and other noble tutors had honed that capability quite well.

"Good," Maar said quietly as she pulled the food away from the fire, a little reluctantly. The fae was ravished, but this was a priority. In any case, she didn't want the good meat to burn. So, she staked their dinner a yard away from the fire before picking up a long stick and approached her pupil.
"Has anyone ever taught you how to mediate?" Maar asked as she began to walk around Tiraris, dragging the stick in the ground to draw a circle, stopping now and then to squiggle quick runes, or kick a stone out of her way.

"If you do so properly, your headaches should cease, and I think you'll have better reign over your magic," Maar explained.
She was careful not to add any definite, for even she wasn't certain where this instruction was going to lead them.
Not completely.
"Relax your shoulders, don't be so rigid," she instructed, "While slowly counting to seven, I want you to to take in a deep breath, and then release it. Slowly."  
By now the fae was done with her circle, and looked down on her efforts. At more or less even nine points was a different rune. The spell wasn't always required, but Maar figured it should help a bit with keeping control.  

When she was done, Maar drew a smaller circle on the opposite side of the woman and sat inside of it with her legs crossed. While relaxing her arms against her thighs, the fae placed her right hand over her left, facing upwards, as her thumbs touched.
"Do this with your hands," she said, "And close your eyes. Clear your mind as you count, drawing your magic inwards. It'll become easy once you get the hang of it!"
Maar smiled, somewhat encouragingly.
"Come on, let's see you try."

Tiraris wordlessly copied Maar's posture although her back still remained as rigid and unmoving as a great oak tree. Her face was a mask of stoney silence that locked away all emotion and pain. So it had been for years and so if she had her way would it continue to be.

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the way the other woman tried to encourage her as if she were but a small child herself. Instead she let her eyes close and her breath slow. Every inhalation and exhalation following a steady seven-beat rhythm.

No longer focused on thoughts but feelings, the assassin's eye twitched slightly as her headache radiated outward and seated itself behind her left eye. Frantically she could feel her energetic core rip at her magic, trying to reel it all back in. Her hands grew hot and slitting her eyes barely open revealed them to be holding a fiery ball of blue light precariously in them.

'Gods above, now what have I done?'

"Oooh," Maar exclaimed as she clung to her ankles.
The fae's face glowed in the light of the fiery magic ball as she peered curiously at it. She resisted the urge to touch it, though the silly thought had crossed her mind- that thing was undoubtedly dangerous.
Figures something like this would happen, she thought with a sigh, remembering her other pupils back on the mountain. This was good, in it's own way; though Tiraris' magic was by far the most unique one she had seen in a human, at least hers behaved in a somewhat similar fashion. Somewhat.
 
That usually only happens with mages who manipulate outside forces, Maar thought, Physical things, like fire...
Those with abilities that dealt with forces that couldn't necessary be seen or touched, like seeing the future, often went haywire on the 'inside'; unwanted scrying and headaches were frequent. So the fae had expected the headache... but not this.
It has the properties of  one type, but acts like another, Maar thought, utterly fascinated.
"It's fine; this happens sometimes," she said as soothingly as she could.
"Don't be scared. Reel it back in, slowly. Focus it here."
Maar poked her stomach, demonstrating  for her new student.
"Can you do that?"

Sweat beaded her brow as Tiraris struggled with the volatile energy. But, with nearly audible snap the magic was sucked back within her like a stone launched from a slingshot as her concentration was broken. The rebound was extremely painful, causing her hands to clench into pale, white fists, the blood to drain from her face, and her eyes to constrict dangerously small, leaving fiery red irises to glare out at Maar.

"So much for your brilliant ideas, teacher. Have any others or are we good now?" she spat out venomously. Tiraris was in pain both physically and mentally. She had allowed her hopes to rise some and now things were worse than they had ever been before. Past teachers had spoken about the instability of her core, she feared the damage it would cause if the precious balance was disturbed. It seemed she was one step closer to finding out and that frightened her.

As much as she pretended not to, the assassin was truly terrified. She could keep the cold facade up for only so long before it would fall like everything else in her life. She did not want to be left to live her life alone as the curse desired her to be. No one ever asked if an assassin wanted something more than a life of paid murder and living on the streets, a life of unending change and movement. Tiraris did not know what she wanted but she did know she wanted the chance to make that choice herself. She would not be ruled by this any longer. If the pixie could not help then she would find someone else, this had to end and soon.

Maar glared curiously at Tiraris, as if  mulling over an experiment instead of a student's welfare as the woman struggled to contain her magic.
My theory might be off, she dully realized.
The fae could only justify that this was to be expected from the start; her other teachers might have came up with similar answers before they infamously disappeared. Maar was grateful she had the foresight to create the circles; more damage would have been caused otherwise. She offered a thin smile at the woman's question.
"You rest some. I'll go back to making dinner," she cheerfully replied as she quickly jumped from her seat and patted the dirt away from her clothes.

Maar removed the stakes with the meat she had drove into the ground.
She had wanted the challenge, and now she was starting to understand the depth of it. Maar stared deeply into the crackling campfire, as if her answers lied there as she placed the meat on a hand made spit and began to turn them over the flames. The heat was beginning to make her eyes water, but as the night was growing chilly, the fae  found comfort the warmth of its flames.
Maybe her magic is like these flames, the fae thought, brainstorming.
Perhaps it needs to burn a little.

A  couple of minutes later, the fae pulled the sticks away from the fire, examining the meat.
She reached into a small pouch she kept on her person and pulled out some herbs, sparely applying them to both their meals. Maar hesitated for a moment before finding one of the last remaining leaves that helped with headaches and internal pain and sprinkled a little over her student's food, as well. It was normally for tea, so she didn't know if it would be particularly helpful or not, but neither of them had  a kettle.  Maar held out the finished meal for her companion.
"Eat up," she ordered as she plopped herself on the ground near by  before tearing into her own food.

Her eyes roamed to the runes she had inscribed on the forest floor before turning towards Tiraris.
"What have you tried, anyway?" she asked, "Tell me about your  teachers."

"Get up. Do this. Lay down. Go rest. Make up your mind!" Tiraris hissed lowly under her breath, uncaring as to whether or not Maar could hear her or not. Yet despite her growling, the assassin did lean back again. Letting the crackle of the fire soothe her frazzled nerves, Tiraris attempted to slow her heartrate once more and relax.

She drifted deep into thought and did not notice the food was done until her teacher thrust the food towards her and ordered her to consume it. With an irritated wave of her hand Tiraris pushed it away and shook her head. The woman doubted she could stomach anything right now, what with everything seeming to be in a state of unsettled roiling inside her.

Wishing to return to her thoughts was impossible though as the little Fae continued to squeak at her. Dispassionately, the assassin turned a dead gaze towards her teacher. An exasperated sigh signaled her irritation however she decided to answer the questions for now. It could be too soon to give up right now. There was always a minor possibility that things could turn for the better.

"Many were fools who had no idea what they were doing. Many see power and only wish to usurp it for themselves. You can understand my caution with choosing my teachers now. Others, like you sought to find the key in control through peace. Meditation and discipline have all been repeatedly tried and failed. If that is all you have to offer me, then you are wasting my time. For your sake I hope that is not true."

Maar listened as she ate.
It all sounded rather boring- useless power seekers and the well meaning, both on opposite sides of the spectrum. None worked. Why? The fae brushed aside the insult; it had no weight or  meaning to her. At least the insult 'fairy' wasn't used, this time.
"I'll leave when that moment comes," she bluntly replied.
Maar was trying to pay back a dept, but if there was nothing else to be done, then pride be damned. She'd be on her way, back to the Hawks, and the woman could cause havoc where ever she pleased.
Her magic...

Some of her teachers had been on the right track. Despite Tiraris' skepticism, the fae knew that meditation was important.
I'll have to teach her how to draw runes, Maar thought.
She suspected that learning how to meditate was part of the reason that Tiraris was even still alive. She was almost appalled by how minimal her student's training had been; it was scarcely any wonder that some of those poor souls were killed. What were they thinking?
Humans can be so daft.

Along with more proper meditation, Tiraris needed the training. They were going to have to do some experimenting to figure out its true nature.
But what to do with it...
It was all giving the fae a headache.
Maar looked mournfully  at her finished meal and checked upon her student's. Tiraris' food wasn't touched at all. The fae frowned. She was still hungry, but the woman needed the energy more. She would have persisted, but Maar figured that the woman had enough for the day.

Maar rose to her feet and began to dim the fire. She bid the woman good night before scrambling up a tree; she could have just used the shadows, but the fae wanted to make use of her newly grown in nails. However, though she was settled on a branch, she could not sleep. Instead, Maar's keen eyes quietly watched the red haired woman before  quietly staring off into nowhere, her thoughts elsewhere.

Beneath small slits in her eyes, Tiraris watched the Fae's movements as she prepared for the night. It irritated her to not only share her space with another but to have her weaknesses observed in such a way by an enemy. While it was true for now the two assassins had come to a truce, there was nothing to stop them from going back to the way things were once the debt was repaid.

"Did your mother teach you nothing, pixie? It is impolite to stare," she snapped, her eyes flashing open to glare up at Maar. "What is the matter, cannot find a proper solution? Already giving up? No need to be shy, not like I have not heard it all before anyway."

Maar tittered at Tiraris' comment.
On retrospect, she should have known that the woman would have been able to pick her out.
"Your mother should have taught you to be more polite," the fae retorted.
Instead of focusing on the woman, her attention now remained fixed on the stars.
She liked it out in the forest, where she could see the night sky and the constillations all the more clearly. That was one thing that remained consistant; the world around her may have changed, but the stars always remained the same in their own fixed dance.
Maar loved her change and lived for the thrill of it, but such consistancy was a comfort, in a way.

"Besides," she continued quietly, "I don't remember my mother."
Though her memory was vast, many things were vague and slipping away.
Maar fancied that she was born of star and shadow. She had friends back in the days when she was just Awari, some fae, some nymph, fawn, and the like. Perhaps one of them had been her mother, but the fae was equally fond of them all. She didn't suppose it would have mattered who was and who wasn't. She speculated if her mother, assuming she had one, was even still alive.
Such a thought never really occured to the fae until now, though none of it really mattered to her.

Suddenlly, a presense tugged at her magic.
The fae refused to turn her head, least the woman picked up on her tension.
Instead, Maar relaxed against the branch of her tree as she tried to identify it; it felt like one of her fellow hawls that were on the prowl. It was Zal, one of the older Hawks under her command, a human mage shapeshifter. Now was as good as time as any to send a message.
But I must be quiet and swift, she thought.  After the woman falls asleep.
Tiraris must know none of this.

"Good night," she chirped cheerfully and closed her eyes, allowing herself to relax some. She had the rest of the night ahead of her; there was time enough.

"You assume that my mother knew what being polite was to begin with. My mother was a whore," Tiraris acidly replied, her eyes also trained on the sky high above. For several long moments her mind reflected on her own mother. In her mind's eye she could already see the graceful features, the coquettish smile, the fluttering eyelids, the expensive silks that rustled with her every movement. Where others might have felt nostalgia in such a moment, the assassin only felt cold detachment, some days even hatred. This was the woman who played with her as if she were a living doll. This is the woman who tried to marry her off the second she realized her trysts had been found up.

Tiraris had no respect for her mother, nor would she ever. To have Maar bring her up only irritated her further. Her hears heard what the little Fae said but she chose not to respond. She felt no pity for the other assassin; the maternal bond between mother and child was a lost concept to her and therefore left her indifferent to the other's comment. If anything Tiraris considered it an attempt for the Fae to deceive or beguile her. The assassin would have none of it though. She knew better than to fall for such childish tricks.

Now fully awake and angered by reminders of her manipulated childhood, Tiraris began to realize that she would be spending yet another night awake and calculating. Over and over her mind went through twists and turns as it analyzed everything that happened to her when she was young. When that began to bore her, she refocused her attention on all the possible results of her current association and linkage with Maar.

"Goodnight yourself," the assassin distractedly replied, her mind lost in opportunities of subterfuge and backstabbing.

How sad, Maar thought without a drop of empathy.
She tried to imagine feeling sorry for the loveless relationship between Tiraris and her mother, and how awful the rift was between them for the expelled noble woman to lash like that. However, try as she might, it was only just pretending; the fae was creative, but she wasn't very original. She couldn't bring herself to care.

After a few minutes, Maar peeked her eyes open to catch a glimpse of Tiraris.
The fae had to stiffle a burst of laughter. Tiraris was so livid; had her words so truly upset her so?
Maar was almost regretful that she had even brought up the touchy subject; the assassin didn't look like she was about to sleep any time soon.  However, the fae was starting to feel rather comfortable in her perch; sleep was creeping up on her. To remedy that, Maar lightly banged the back of her head against the tree trunk as she began to go through the constillations, reciting their names and stories in her head. The fae started with the Maiden by the moon before moving on towards the Serphant...

Two hours passed in this fashion. Maar had begun to make a game out of it, mulling over the details of each of the stories. She had forgotten some, and so came up with new details in her head. Of course, the fae knew enough that such words would never pass her lips; Maar didn't doubt she'd forgot her silly tales by the morning. However, she was too busy keeping track of Zal's location to care much. His presense was faint, but he hadn't moved for the past half hour. He was taking a break- the fae knew he would be on the move again before the night was over.

Maar stole another glance of Tiraris before slipping into the shadows, slipping down the tree and through the forest. She was the grass, the rock, the animals- the fae always enjoyed the opportunity to 'stretch her legs', so to speak. It was tricky, the fae proudly noted, to track one of her best Hawks in the enchanted forest. Finally, she found him, not two miles away from her own campsite.  He was was busy, digging for mushrooms that varied in size and shape in the shape of a beautiful red fox. The clearing was cramped, encircled itself by a canopy of trees.  Maar perched herself on a tree branch above him. The branch didn't shake to alert her presense, yet he still stopped and sniffed the air. Maar waited a few moments before revealing her hiding spot with a giggle.
"I thought I taught you better than that,"she said ,"That's a fae ring. I don't need to remind you what comes with them."

The fox's ears perked up as it stared up at her with large black eyes.
"I've a message for you," she continued, softly.
Within a blink of an eye, the fox had transformed back into the shape of a stout man with a round and soft face, contrasting to his narrowed brown eyes and muscles. His shoulder length light brown hair was tied back. He donned a vest, tunic, breeches, and boots of the most common quality. Maar knew that under the shirt hid his tattoo.
"Is it that woman?" he said.
The man didn't seem surprised that Maar was around; if he was, he made no show of it.

"You knew?" she replied, amused.
He gave a toothy grin. There was a gap in the front; one had been knocked out in a fight long ago.
"Words out that some Connloath boke lookin' for two women," he said, "One fiery headed, the other blue."
"Devdarra," Maar said, not allowing the blue haired comment to phase her.
"Aye. He's in trouble with the authorties; a big scandel, it is."
A bigger grin spread across Maar's face. Morindo proved his worth yet again, so it seemed.

"What are you doing here, Zal?" the fae asked, "Where's Talner?"
The man pointed vaguelly towards the north.
"She's restin' her wings," he explained, "Been ridin' all day. Goin 'on a little stroll around Arca. A maid there from Arca has something precious my client wants."
Maar nodded.
"Good," she replied before dropping down from the tree to embrace the brawdy man.
"My message," she continued, "Tell the King that I'll be sticking with this red headed woman for a while. She's my student now."
Zal  was taken aback by this news. When he questioned her motives, Maar briefly explained what happened back in the Hollow and Tiraris' magic. She talked for a few minutes, leaving out the details of her transformation. The fae allowed her student assume that the 'blue haired woman' was just a guise.
"That's why," she finished, "I wont' be home for a while. I don't know how long, but not much longer than the longest of missions."
"Three moon cycles," Zal suggested.
"Maybe. " Maar  said, "Maybe not."
The man frowned, his eyes on where her own tattoo was placed, covered by her own clothing.

"No," Maar replied, guessing his answer, "She doesn't."

Blood-red eyes watched from below as the pesky little Fae dashed off into the shadows of the night. The assassin hesitated long enough for the sounds of the other to begin to fade before following at a much slower pace. She had grown accustomed now to the other's pattern of movement and allowed that knowledge and her other senses to guide her in pursuit.

Tiraris arrived near the end of the pair's conversation, hanging back in the shadows to further observe. 'King? What duplicity is this pixie? Selling me up the river already? Best be quicker than that then Maar. I am not as dumb as you take me for.'

Her eyes followed uncomprehending but trying to, what was meant by the look towards the woman's arm. 'What are you after boy? What information are you trying to steal?' There in the cold shadows, Tiraris debated her next move. Did she reveal herself? Did she stay? Did she return to camp? If so, did she pretend to not know? Did she confront Maar? It was unlikely that the Fae did not know she was there already, but the boy could not. Tiraris was too careful of that. 'Your move, Maar. Now what?'

Sneaky girl, Maar thought with a straight face.
Of course she could sense Tiraris' presence, though the fae was surprised the woman was somehow able to track her. She didn't mind terribly that the woman was here, though it would complicate matters. Maar hadn't wanted to talk about this, not with her, but the fae knew that it was now necessary.
Not a word to Zal, she thought, who smiled innocently at the man who was currently narrowing his eyes at her, clearly puzzled.

He  wasn't one to defy her decisions normally, but Maar could tell that he thought her decision to teach an 'outsider' was a risky one, Purple Hawk or no.
"That's good," he replied, slowly. He didn't want to defy what his teacher could and couldn't do.   
The fae nodded, patiently waiting to know where he was getting at. Zal was never the type to hold his tongue when something was biting him, authority or no.
"But if she does," he quickly continued, "Then..."
"I know the rules better than most," Maar quickly replied.
Kill her or swear her in. 
She wanted to say "That wouldn't happen", but she knew this wasn't true.  Tiraris knew too much already, so it seemed.


Maar shrugged and stretched her arms.
"You ought to search for food elsewhere," she suggested, pointing towards the east.
"These rings have their purpose, and the forest  doesn't like it when  fools mess with its things. Even the animals don't touch them."
Zal nodded, his shoulders slumped. It was clear to Maar that he wanted more of an explanation  out of her, but he understood that he wasn't going to get it. He gave the fae a small bow.
"My message," Maar reminded him.
"Aye," he replied with a wave as he cheerfully went off in the direction the fae told him, whistling.

Maar stood quietly in the middle of the fairy ring until she was positive Zal was out of range.
"You can come out now, Tiraris," she said. Her tone was lighthearted, but there was a slight, wary edge to it.
"Did you hear the whole thing?"

Tiraris allowed her back to rest against the tree trunk that had shielded her from view, causing the moonlight to filter in through the leaves above and create splotches of light and shadow upon her body.

"Hard not to when you talk as loud as a trumpet, Maar. Selling me out already, are you?" A slim brow raised in challenge as the assassin crossed her arms. She was prepared to move if need be but her muscles were not yet bunched in true preparation of flight. "Who is he?"

'Better yet, what does he have to do with me? I could have killed him Maar. I still can. He is just a sapling in comparison to the great oak trees. Do not forget what I have already done for you. My generosity extends only so far before the thin edge of the blade will finally slip and down you shall fall.'

"No more games, fairy. You may be older but that just makes you slower with age. You have already seen one display of what I can do, I would not test it further tonight if I were you."

"Oh, is that what you're worried about?" Maar replied with a tinkering laugh.  .
She had expected more complex questions, but she was relieved by Tiraris' simplicity. In the pool of moonlight did the fae stood still, waiting out  her new student's threats patiently, flinching only at the word fairy.
You're so petty. Slow, indeed, she thought as she rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"You've misunderstood," she bluntly replied. As she talked, the fae approached Tiraris. Her own features were dulled by the shadows of the trees, save for her slightly pointed teeth that gleamed in the night.
"I told you I was a teacher, didn't I?  He is one of my students and I told him  that I was going to be away for a while since I'm travelling with you."

"Besides, why would I do a stupid and boring thing like that, anyway? Sell you out. Ha!" Maar scoffed at the idea. She playfully poked Tiraris in the arm before continuing her walk back towards camp.
"It'd have been much more fun to 'take care' of such a situation, myself. And cleaner," she cheerfully pointed out as she jumped over a rock in her path.
"We haven't all night, Tiraris. You ought to rest off that headache of yours. We've a long day tomorrow. Unless there is something else you want to know? I can't promise you an answer, though."

The assassin hissed angrily, baring her teeth at the playful yet painful touch. Her nerves were more sensitive than even she had suspected and while that worried her she kept that concern to herself. It would not do to scare this one off without first seeing if indeed Maar had the capability to teach Tiraris to stabilize herself.

Her brow raised in challenge though at the other woman's words. "He was not with you in the Hollow, he obviously does not need you as a teacher now. Why should it matter where you go and whom with? If he truly is your student then it is his duty to obey you without question or need to know your doings. You had a message for him, who was it for?"

She did not trust the other woman, knowing just how well one could twist their words and still speak the truth without meaning it. She herself had gotten very close to mastering the art and while Tiraris did enjoy a good battle of words, now was neither the time nor the place. Her very bones ached and her stubbornness was preventing her from both admitting to it and submitting to it. Not until she had the answers she desired would she allow herself to cave to her own body's weak desires. She would be strong until then, no matter the price.

Maar laughed at Tiraris' questions. The woman had many,  so it seemed. That was only natural. Still, there were some that was best left unanswered.
If she's clever enough and has kept her ears open over the years, she thought, She might know of our little group. Still, I won't take the pleasure of discovery away just by handing the answer over. There's no fun in that.

"Tsk tsk," she playfully retorted, "Your business isn't to know his. Besides, if you'd had been better at eavesdropping, you would have known the answer to all of your questions. So there."
Maar giggled, enjoying herself tremendously.  The fae never tired of such games. In her childish guise did she cheerfully swung her arms as she marched through the dark forest path. Still, the fae knew that Tiraris would rip her throat out if she left the woman with too much anticipation.
"Buuut," she continued as she swung her head over to throw a smug grin  at Tiraris.
"If you must know, I ordered him to leave us alone.  I'll be travelling with you for a while, so  he's to tell the others back at the nest, you might say. I've a home, you know."

The fae's voice trailed off at that, as her thoughts returned to the many Hawklings she'd have to leave for the season.
Before too long, the dim glow of their dying fire was within sight. It was reduced to the dying sparks of embers. Instead of climbing up her tree, again, Maar laid her cloak down by the fire, fiddling with her belt so that her knives could lay by her side.
"Good night, Tiraris," she said as she curled up in her cloak.
"Unless there's something else you'd like to ask of your old mentor?"

Questions scorched her mind as the assassin advanced on the smaller Fae. Everything about her screamed predator, from the dark look in her eyes to the stalking motion of her body. She was furious and wanted nothing more than to grab the brat and smack her head repeatedly against a tree trunk until all her questions were answered.

"Nor is his business to know mine, but without a doubt he knows. The question I ask, is how much? Tell me pixie," she growled out, advancing on the woman as she settled in for the night, "how much have you divulged?"

Tiraris latched onto Maar's arm, close to where the hidden tattoo lay just beneath her sleeve and gripped it brutally. "I could have killed you before just as I could have left you to die. Tell me!"

Instead of escaping from the enraged Tiraris, Maar only blankly stared up at the woman. She was seemingly unfazed, though an angry glint in her blue eyes suggested otherwise. Despite her usually nonchalant attitude, Maar was a prideful creature. She had told the woman the truth twice-fold. The fae didn't even twist her words! To add salt to the injury, Tiraris tightly grasped Maar's arm, exposing a corner of her purple tattoo. The fae's jaw hardened at the reminder of the events of Matron's Hallow.
"What good will threatening me do for you?" she calmly replied.
A familiar and low voice emerged from the child's mouth. A blink of an eye later, in Maar's place sat the tall and pale Awari.

The star-lit, blue haired woman flashed Tiraris a wolfish grin.
"Do not forget that I could have easily killed you then as I can easily do so now," Awari stated as she placed a gloved hand over the woman's, prying it off. Her tone was different, more solemn and had a condescending edge to it. The fae figured that Tiraris would listen to her true form more so than her child one. Perhaps then she could stop repeating herself.
"You have agreed to be taught by me, therefore placing you under my protection," she continued, "Though I am obliged to help you because I promised, do not cross me. You shall perhaps one day perish by your own hands if you have treated all your instructors this way."
The fae scoffed as she smoothed out her tunic, completely concealing her tattoo once again. There were many things she could change about her appearance. That tattoo was one of the few things that stayed consistent.

"As for that man," Awari said, rolling her eyes.  She really hated repeating herself like this.
"I only told him that I would be travelling with you for some time. The message was so that nobody would come looking for me during that time. You needn't worry about me telling him about your little secrets."
The fae gave a wide smirk at this.
" Rest easy; if he truly desired to know, he could easily pick up that information for himself. He's already picked up a rumor of our activities in Connloath, so it seems."

"I do not need your protection! After all I am not the one who got herself caught and tortured. If you think what he did to you is bad, you have no idea what I am capable of, Awari. My magic is not a problem. I do not need your help. I ask for assistance further strengthening, but I assure you I am not weak, nor shall I destroy myself as you seem to think. I am not like you!"

The assassin felt like her entire being was on fire. Every nerve ending was firing with sensations of pain. Every slight movement made by both her and the fairy sent electric shocks into her hand and down into her core. While her eyes had been able to catch a glimpse of the tattoo, she was in too much pain and too enraged to be able to process it at the moment. Her mind stored it for later analysis and thought.

A moment of silence followed Awari's statement as Tiraris glared down at the other woman and tried to regain control of her breath. "You disgust me," the assassin finally spat, flinging the other's arm out of her grip. "If you know what is best for you then stay away from me. It would be a shame if I deprived the whelp his fairy teacher."

She turned her back on the blue-haired beauty and attempted to march back into the darkness of the forest. 'Liar, word-twister, I know what you are. Traitor, stealer of truths, I do not trust you.'

Awari had faced plenty of snide insults, long monologues, and bitter retorts throughout her long career, but this was perhaps the first she had ever been snapped at by anybody she considered a student. The fae wasn't used to being snapped at in her true form, most likely because when she used it as a weapon or a tool, it generally worked to her favor. Of course, Tiraris words stabbed her pride.
Weak I can shrug off, she bitterly thought.
I know what I'm capable of, and I know I could have easily avoided capture. But fairy... Do I LOOK like a tiny, blithering, insultingly idiotic twit with fragile wings?!

With a puff of anger, Awari sprawled herself across the forest floor, and closed her eyes. Fine, Tiraris could walk away. What did she care? Might help that stupid human blow off some steam. In any case, Awari still hadn't given up on her student just yet.
Say what you will, I keep my word. Humans.
The fae gently blew an insect off her nose.
Patiently, she layed there, her eyes closed. It was rather peaceful, really, the quiet. However, Awari found that she couldn't really appreciate it. She was still too annoyed over the predicament with Tiraris.
Fairy.... Really, that red-headed ass of a woman is impossible. Was she ever really a lady?
Slowly, her annoyed scowl turned into an amused grin to maniacal laughter.

Blue hair spilled everywhere as she curled up in the grass.
Ah, but she hadn't been this vexed or caught off guard like this in a long, long time. This feeling! Was this how that blasted wretch felt all the time?
"Where did she go off to now?" Awari muttered as she sat up.
Though her hair was now a wild mess  with leaves in her hair, the fae didn't bother to fix it.
It didn't bother her; she was part of the earth, and it part of she. She was a wild creature, after all.

I better follow her, she thought.
The fae stretched before standing up and walking into the forest. She kept a leisure pace before working her way up to a sprint. She wasn't running for Tiraris, not directly. Instead, she ventured a couple of degrees towards the right. Then, just as she reached a meadow, she dove into the shadows to trail behind Tiraris, always keeping a half mile radius between the two of them.   

If the assassin had not been so angry with the Fae woman, she would have been amused by the apparent temper-tantrum Awari was displaying, sprawling herself out like a pig in mud. However, Tiraris was in a dreadful temper and therefore not only did she miss her companion's reaction, she also failed to notice how she was being followed.

Her feet practically flew against the freezing forest floor as trees whipped past her. The exhilarating feeling of increased oxygen and blood flow through her body surged her forward, driving her faster and further to burn off the fire that was quickly radiating outward.

Then as suddenly as she had started running, she stopped. Before her was a small lake, still and glistening under the moonlight. Her heart pounded heavily within her chest as she allowed her breath to slow and calm once more. With the speed and grace of a fighter she drew her sword, leveling it out in front of her before bowing to an imaginary adversary.

Tiraris began a slow dance, her eyes closed as she manipulated both blade and body in a dance of strength and coordination. As each series of routines were completed she would begin again until each was mastered before moving on to the next. Each set was more complicated and faster than its predecessor until she was spinning and striking with the same power and conserved energy that she did on a day to day basis. Unbeknownst to her though, was how the fiery ball within her began sedate and reform into a more relaxed form as she expended energy and distilled her anger through practice.

After a while, Tiraris had stopped marching through the forest and had stopped. Once she had, the fae had paused in her current location, prepared to start the hunt, again. But the woman didn't move. Instead, Tiraris seemed to be... pacing? Fighting? She was moving around in one place. Curious, Awari slithered through the shadows to where Tiraris was. To her surprise, the fae watched at the woman seemed to dance with her blade, the sword's steel flashing in the moonlight.  No, it was no dance. It was a series of movements, Awari realized, developed for the purpose of training and honing one's skill with a blade. It was a disciplinary art that many swordsmen adapted in some shape or form. She had seen some Red Hawks train in this fashion. The concept was never relevant to the fae before, until now.

Excitement stirred within  her once she realized what was happening. The fae could feel Tiraris' magic become more controlled and confined. This was encouraging information. So the woman already had some skill in controlling her magic. Certainly not much, but this was a good start. Pleased by her discovery, the fae left. She took on her guise of Maar a half mile away, and slept alone in the tree branches, lulled to sleep by the whistling breeze.

---
"Wake up! Wake up!"
The sun was shyly starting to peek from the tops of the trees, yet the fae was full of energy. She smirked at Tiraris.
"No  sleeping," she half-heartedly scolded, poking the woman with a stick.
"Get up and do that sword dance thing, again. Now, before breakfast. Teacher's orders," she said with a smug grin.
Maar was highly aware that she was being an ass. However, she WAS the teacher, and Tiraris had disrespected her. Maar considered this as a sort of punishment,  but also as a test to make sure that the previous night had not been a fluke.

She did not remember falling asleep but she certainly would remember the rude awakening that awaited her with the sun's rising. "Quit poking me with that confounded stick, pipsqueak! Damn the mother that bore you and the father that took a passing interest in her, you bastard runt!"

Tiraris howled in frustration as she blindly reached for the offending stick before ripping it from Maar's hands and swinging it wildly in the annoyance's direction. Rolling to her knees, her eyes glaring out from beneath her lids like sparks of fire that if looks could kill would have incinerated the Fae a thousand times over.

Viciously, the assassin whipped the stick with gaining accuracy. "How dare you follow me and intrude on my privacy! What kind of lowly, conniving cretin are you? What the hell do you mean sword dance? I do not dance and certainly not with a sword! Any real teacher could tell you that!"

Her hair mussed with twigs and leaves and her face flushed with anger, Tiraris looked like the Erlking's daughter. She was a more comical than menacing figure that is more comparable to a lunging drunken bear than a master assassin.

Tiraris' frustration was the height of hilariously to Maar, who was currently skipping about in the grass nearby as she avoided the assassin's wrath.
For one just roused, her insults are lively and creative, Maar thought, grinning broadly as she snatched the stick that was hurled towards her. Her play time was over- now it was time to get serious.

Or, at least, just a little bit.
"Yet lo, why is it that a 'lowly creature' such as I am keeping my word, where as one such as yourself tried to break it?" the fae smoothly asked as she broke the stick in two. The fae were fickle, but Maar was sometimes baffled how humans were even more so.
She shook her head as she sat down in the grass, hugging her legs to her face, as if she were listening to a fascinating story by the fireplace.
"Whatever it was that you were doing last night," she plainly ordered.  "Do it again."
Maar cheerfully grinned.
"And then we can have breakfast!"

Now that did it. It was one thing to wake the night owl huntress from her fitful slumber but to accuse her of breaking a word was another thing entirely. Even fully awake that was not a slander most men dared to make. If she was anything, the assassin was loyal and honorable. She would see a job through until the end and never double-cross or reveal her employer's name. True, that kind of fealty did end with her contract but it was a trait of her character that she cared with her in all that she did. To be told now that she was breaking her word, set her blood aflame.

She roared with anger, the raw magic surging forth once more. "How dare you accuse me of such a thing," she hissed lowly, her voice as sharp and deadly as a naked blade in the dark. "And so lightly as if it is nothing more than a statement about the weather. When have I ever gone back on my word? Filth like you disgust me. Have you forgotten the life debt you owe me? Your life is mine fairy!"

The cheerful, childlike manner of the other woman was salt to Tiraris' wounds. "I am not your doll Awari. I will not be played as such. Your student I may be, forget not though the grounds we stand on are unbalanced and not in your favor," the assassin growled out, staring Maar down with the cold eyes of a killer.

Maar glared back at Tiraris with a look of complete disinterest. Oh the assassin had definately crossed several lines, and the fae was very close to holding a grudge. Nobody called her Awari in this form. It was not done. Her true form and name were the closet things to 'sacred' as Maar got. It was something that was hers and stayed hers, throughout these long years. Being a full blooded fae was becoming hard in this world and so she protected herself. She protected Awari.   But she was Maar in this guise of a child, for though it was an illusion, she considered it  very real.  She gave a wide and dangerous smile.
"That's nice," she said in her high voice.
"But I am your teacher, and that's very naughty of you to say. Do you want breakfast or not?"

With that, Maar bent down and picked up the stick. She began to draw a the circle rune that she had done before, only bigger allowing for plenty of movement.
Life dept, she thought with a scoff. Tiraris obviously didn't know anything about Maar's kind. Maar had offered to teach her as a boon. She owned Tiraris nothing.
"Those movements you did with your sword last night," Maar repeated as she gathered stick surrounding them. Might as well try to start a small fire.  "Do them, again."

Tiraris gritted her teeth so tightly that when she released them her jaw cracked loudly in protest. "Wench," she growled out under her breath. The Fae's apparent lack of reaction, cooled the assassin off enough to do as she was told albeit with some more growling and name-calling.

Her sword sang out clear and true in the crisp morning air as she swung it and spun it around in the complicated exercises, completely focused on the task at hand and no longer aware of Maar's activities around their makeshift camp. Stiffness had set into some of her muscles from a night on the cold forest floor and Tiraris found herself struggling with some of the exercises, forced to repeat them again and again until she was satisfied.

Peace reigned once more within her, if only briefly. She was calmer already, letting her body flow. This was not her showing off to Maar; the assassin could careless what the Fae thought about her skills. Tiraris was confident enough in her skills to not have to flaunt them and secure enough to know her own weaknesses as well.

She was fire, glowing brightly in the morning sun as its warm rays reflected off her vermillion hair and eyes. Suddenly spinning on her heel she thrust the blade out in Maar's direction and glared down its naked length towards her newest teacher. "Satisfied?"

"I heard that," Maar  cheerfully replied to Tiraris' angry retort.
She sat up, her eyes gleaming as she watched Tiraris began to 'dance'. Her moves were practiced and calculated. Though at first rather stiff and clumsy, Maar could see the progress, the way the magic flowed through her, better. It was interesting to see, though whatever the fae was thinking, she did not betray it on her face.

Maar scoffed at the blade pointed at her. The wind picked up its scent, and carried it over to her nose. The scent was strong and made her feel sick She said nothing, but calmly pulled out a small vial of potion and downed half of it. It wouldn't really do too much, for the day, except for make the smell a little more tolerable.
"Breakfast!" she announced in a sing-song voice.
The fae jumped to her feet and began to wander into the woods.
"I want fish," she declared.
"We're going to fish."

There was a river that flowed not too far from them, and within minutes, Maar had placed her boots and socks by the riverside as she waded in the water, with a stick that she had sharpened on her walk there. She smiled at the sight of trout, the light reflecting off of their scales. With ease that came with years of practice, Maar swiftly caught one on her first try, the unfortunate dying fish violently struggling against the spike that pierced through its body.
"Mine," the fae said.

Seeing Maar affected gave Tiraris a secret ray of satisfaction that they both suffered from this. The assassin knew of the Fae's weakness to iron and she relished in the knowledge that she was able to make the annoyance of a teacher queasy from doing what Tiraris had been instructed to do.

'Cannot fault me for that, can you pixie? Of course not. Just being a good little student here,' her mind internally chuckled at the irony of it all.

However, the satisfaction drained as annoyance returned. 'You do not even care, do you? Do this, do that, let us eat. Seriously how much of a fool do you take me for you little pixie? My patience only lasts so long. You have no idea what I can do to you. What I WILL do to you if you do not quit the games.'

"Oh yes, fish," she grumbled, moving to sit on the shore, completely uninterested in catching any. "Careful you do not choke on the bones! Would not want to lose my precious teacher so soon."

"Is that so?" Maar said, adding a touch of glamour her voice to sound like an elderly lady's.
"If that's true, then that's very thoughtful, my pupil."
The fae giggled at her mischief. It was a beautiful morning, all, and just the slightest bit of progress had been made. She watched as the fish flopped violently on the stick before falling limp. Maar skipped to the shore and carefully slid the creature off of it before going back into the water. She turned towards Tiraris and frowned.
"You aren't going to get any breakfast that way, you know," Maar said before going back to fishing.

The fae smiled mischievously to herself as she focused on her prey. She had the most wonderful prank in mind and was going to slip into the shadows... But found that she could not do it. The fae's eyes widened.
"Huh?" she muttered.
Maar looked around her for a bit before finding the looming shadow of a nearby boulder.  Maar lept from her place and tried to step into it, but it did not work.

She stood there in a moment, as if in a trance. Of course her glamour still worked and her magic detection, very faintly. Maar sniffed the air. Of course the magic she was searching for was undetectable. She narrowed her eyes before scrambling into her boots. If her suspicions were true, then it looked like the two of them were in a bit of a problem, one that would have international dire consequences if they weren't careful. Delightful shivers ran down her spine as she motioned for Tiraris to follow her back to the camp. She walked swiftly, with determination, with a hand on her belt.

"We must go," Maar said, burying her fish pole in the ground. It was an entertaining predictament, though she wished she wasn't so hungry. Well, they could have it.
" Keep your hand to your sword and try to resist the urge to shout."
Maar smirked.
Her former employer must have a long arm, indeed, she thought, if he could afford the aid of the Mordecai.

Tiraris snorted, training her gaze on the distant shore in a sign of complete disinterest with her teacher. "Who said I was looking for breakfast this way?" she questioned back softly. The assassin let her eyes close as the warm sun bathed her in its comforting embrace.

It had been a long time since she had relished to tranquility of a moment like this. For a moment the former noblewoman felt a faint twinge of pain within her chest but it soon faded. Thoughts of having the luxury to pass hours in sweet-smelling gardens were buried deep. She had chosen this path of life and she was proud of it. Tiraris refused to regret it for what was regret but more wasted time and time she did not have to waste.

Her companion's undignified utterance ruined the moment, causing the assassin's eyes to snap open in exasperation and her head to whip around to glare at the woman. The odd expression though gave her pause. Maar was not up to her normal antics. Something was different. There was tension in the air that surely had not been brought on by Tiraris' own stubbornness. It was something more.

She rose quickly to her feet, her hand instinctively coming to rest on her sword-hilt before the Pixie had even suggested it. Her long strides pulled her up beside the smaller figure so that she might lean down to whisper harshly in the other's ear.

"What have you done now," hissed angrily yet quietly in the space between them.

Maar shook her head impatiently at Tiraris' question. At least the woman was listening to her, but this was no time for interviews!
Always the accusations, the fae thought as they made their way through the woods towards where they left the horses the previous night before.
"Mordecai," Maar whispered in a barely audible tone. "Now hush."

When they arrived near the edge of their camp, Maar could see the horses the two had left behind still tied to the trees. Maar could hear the faint whinny of a horse and thought nothing of it until the wind carried the scent of iron to her nose. Her eyes quickly scanned the tree tops. None with arrows... not yet.
"They're quick," she muttered with a cold grin.
Maar turned to face Tiraris, gesturing for her to conceal her position, for now.
"Wait here," she said.

She eyed the camp with a hungry grin, stragizing her approach. Their enemy, too, were hidden, but Maar knew they were close. With a deep breath, she nimbly sprinted towards the horses, a stone knife in hand. Immediately, an arrow sliced through the air, barely missing the fae as she slid to the reigns and furiously began to undo them.
More trouble than their worth, she thought as the giant creatures began to grow uneasy.
"Hush now," Maar said in her singsong voice, though that didn't seem to help.
Make haste, make haste!
Another arrow was flung. Maar tsked as it barely hit over her head. A shout was cried out, and the sounds of galloping followed.
"Oph," Maar said with a sigh as she undid the reigns for hers. She rolled her eyes at Tiraris' knot, and cut the reigns for the other horse. Maar jumped onto the back of hers and lead the other by the cut reigns.
"JUMP!" she ordered, reaching out a hand for Tiraris to grab onto.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maar saw three knights wielding swords that gleamed in the light.
My knights in shining armor, Maar thought with a smirk, reaching a hand for one of her pouches, grabbing half a fistful of powder.

The assassin still in place, her gaze becoming sharp and alert. Mordecai were not something Tiraris usually had to contend with while working in Connlaoth. Thankfully, most of her time there allowed her to keep her magic relatively under control and unnoticed. She always tried her best to give these particular soldiers as wide a berth as possible.

Now however, she was being forced into being noticed by them all because of her current traveling companion. 'I should have known you would be more trouble than you were worth pixie. Should have let you die in that cell if I had known you would bring them tracking after us.'

Despite her internal anger though, Tiraris managed to keep a hold on her tongue. She could shoot her barbs out later. Right now surviving was more important than having the last witty word. Instead she followed in silence, rolling her eyes at Maar's comments but otherwise remaining a silent and calculating force.

Her body remained hunched low to the ground, muscles bunched, ready to spring should the need arise. However, the assassin made no move to resist the order given to her. It was not because she had been ordered but because she saw no need in endangering her life for the Fae. They were mostly hunting for Maar and once she was killed, Tiraris could slip away and disappear as a forgotten entity.

An aggravated growl escaped her throat at seeing the way the other woman handled the situation, destroying the reins and creating a commotion before recklessly barreling towards her. But, the human had once last trick up her sleeve. Even as her new teacher held out the ruined reins to assist, Tiraris let out a shrill whistle to gain her horse's attention, sending it a halfstep closer to her.

In the next heartbeats the assassin did something she had not done since childhood and even then it had gotten her into a great deal of trouble with both her mother and the horse-master. Tiraris reached her arms out letting the neck of the beast run by her fingers before latching onto the mane near the root, springing up to her feet and into the air while pulling herself astride the animal. She wobbled slightly as the animal tried to accommodate her shifting weight as well as continue to be pulled by Maar's hold on the reins.

Tiraris leaned forward and took the reins from Maar before steering the horse to be abreast with Maar's instead of behind. "Right pickle you put us in," she hissed as an arrow whizzed between them and embedded itself in an upcoming tree. "Any other brilliant plans or is it my turn?"

Maar smirked in approval as Tirarirs leaped for her horse and skillfully pulled herself up on the saddle.
"Still mine," she replied with a wild grin.
As they approached the knights that rode before them, Maar blew black powder into the faces of the two that were on her side.
"That one's yours!" she shouted at her pupil. One of her knights tried to wildly swing his blade to kill the fae, but Maar ducked, the steel barely gazing her hair.  Maar grinned. Despite being heavily armored, the knights still had weak spots on their necks. She threw one of her knives towards the knight closest to her throat. He screamed as she ripped it out before falling limp. With some difficulty, Maar clumsily tossed his body in his companion's direction, spooking his horse. An arrow shot through the air, landing in her saddle.
"Really?!" Maar shouted, a little disappointed.

Maar tugged the reigns and allowed the knight's companion to continue chasing her as she brought her horse by Tiraris'.
"How are you doing?" she bantered cheerfully as she watched the knight chase her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a shadow pass through the tree tops.
The archer. Maar giggled to herself.
I'll deal with you soon, she thought. Just then, the knight stopped chasing the two of them, wiping the grin off of Maar's face.
Wha..?
"Tiraris, look out!" she yelped as she covered her face with the inside of her arm. The knight had thrown an egg full of blinding powder that was similar to her own, but it had more than that. Tiny, tiny pieces of iron were sprinkled in it, and Maar bit her lip as some of it bit what was exposed of her skin.

"Oh joy," Tiraris growled, rolling her eyes at her companion's mirth and order. While the pixie resorted to tricks to bring the knights down, the assassin relied purely on her battle-sharpened skills to knock the man from his horse before effectively beheading him in one fell stroke.

Blood spattered everywhere moments before her annoying teacher came over to pester and banter once more. She whipped around in the saddle to glare at Maar moments before the ill-timed shout of warning was sounded. Tiraris turned right into the egg's exploding path.

A howl of pain bellowed out through the forest as her face took the brunt of the attack full-force, blinding her and cutting her face. Her left hand came up to prevent further attack and to cover her closed, unseeing eyes while the right swung up like a snake to slash blindly at her foe.

A second scream of pain disrupted the once peaceful forest, giving the assassin a feeling of satisfaction. If she had not killed her opponent than she had at least wounded him. The sound of arrows whistling diminished that feeling though, causing her to call out to her companion.

"Maar! End this!"

Maar didn't scream. She hissed and cursed as her concourses danced. She could feel her glamour slip, but she held onto it tightly as the tiny pieces cut and burn what little of her skin was exposed. At the nape of her neck, she could feel the whizz of an arrow pass. It missed, but it was dangerously close.
I have to take out the archer, she thought. Tiraris' orders were highly unnecessary in Maar's opinion. They both knew what each had to do.

Maar used the cover of the chaos to latch herself onto a tree and scramble up its branches with the skill of hundreds of years of practice. The archers were distracted with the deadly little creature and tried to shoot her. When the one in the tree she was in realized this tacit was not going to work, he drew out a long knife, readying himself for close combat.
"Over here!" Maar teased as she lept up from behind him. Before he had a chance to react, the fae stabbed him in the spleen.  Normally she would draw out the battle, if not by seconds, but these were desperate times. She mockingly shushed his moaning, as a mother or lover might, as she looted his quiver and bow.
"Where are your friends?" she muttered.
As if to answer her question, she saw a glint of light flash behind her as the sun's rays caught the light of a notched arrow.
"No friends allowed!" Maar scowled as she aimed in its direction and fired.

OOC:... if this needs editing let me know im  kinda in a half asleep mode XD

Reeling in pain, Tiraris fought to maintain her seat atop the agitated horse. She gritted her teeth and tried to force the pain away as she trained her ears to listen for every little sound in her vicinity. The man she had swiped at was still breathing and that meant she still had a threat to eliminate.

On a whim she steered the horse sharply in the man's direction, reveling in his cry of surprise and the sound of his sudden retreat. If she was not mistaken the fool had made a dive right into a bramble bush.

"Oh did the wittle birdie get caught in the brambles?" the assassin cooed cruelly. "Let mommy come cut you out." Isilotsë sang as the struggling man's life was ended in a flash of steel that spewed dark blood out into the air.

Yet, even as she ended the man's life, Tiraris could feel her own pain steadily becoming too much to bear. Her head spun and her ears rang with sensation overload. The poisonous iron was sending her in a frightening downward spiral that could very well end her life if she did not attend to it and soon.

Maar sat in the tree for a moment, admiring the carnage. Her body ached and stung from the iron, the pain dulling the pleasure of victory only slightly. She carefully climbed down the tree, her head a little woozy.
"Ah, that was fun," she said with much satisfaction before throwing up. The fae wrinkled her nose at the pile.
"Except that," she muttered, wiping the filth and blood from her face.

Maar fought to keep her glamour from fading away. She had been through worse, before, and damned if her 'cover' slipped again! Her eyes wandered towards the belt of the corpse at her feet. His clothes were made of silk, no doubt the man kept in his company a coin or two.
"Just a moment, Tiraris," she sang, her fingers already working on lifting purses.

---

Maar weighed her find. She reckoned she could live comfortably for at least a month. The fae walked through the forest, feeling some of her magic returning to her. She had not realized how stiffing being in those knights' presence had been- she felt as if she could breathe again. It did not take her long to follow Tiraris' path.
"You're badly injured," Maar observed as she approached her student. She offered a knowing, but not unkindly grin.
"Should I take the reigns?" she asked, a little amused by Tiraris' current vulnerability, completely ignoring her own.

Unable to shoot the withering glare towards Maar that she wanted to, Tiraris simply grunted. Her hands balled into bloodless fists as she gripped what was left of the tattered reigns Maar had been so kind as to destroy. For several moments she struggled between pride and pain as she fumbled with calling upon her magical core.

Alas though it was bankrupt and bled nearly dry with trying to sustain her lifeforce long enough for someone else to intervene. Groaning with dread and pain alike, the assassin blindly reached out for where her current teacher sat astride.

"Help," Tiraris hissed through gritted teeth, despising herself for needing another's assistance especially that of the flightless fairy.

"As you wish," Maar replied.
She carefully climbed onto the saddle behind Tir. She wrinkled her nose, being so uncomfortably close to Tir's sword.
"You need a healer," the fae said in a quiet voice. She could feel Tiraris' magic struggling, and the woman didn't have much time left to live. Though She would not admit to it, Maar was filled with the strong desire to save her companion and student. Maar dug her heels into the saddle.
"I know these woods," she said in her sing song voice. "The village isn't too far away."
Her voice deepend as the guise transformed into a wiry and shaved man with flowing blue hair that reached his broad, suntanned shoulders. His face was similiar to Awari's true face, except that his features were more angular and his jaw stronger. He donned light leather armor and simple breeches and a tunic, though all of Maar's weapons and pouches remained visible. The fae pulled out a skin full of water and pulled out the top with their teeth.
"Drink," she ordered, holding it up to Tiraris' teeth.

Maar gritted her teeth, her wounds stinging. She didn't know how long she had been riding, but her head started to spin. She gripped onto Tiraris tighter, pressing a hand to an open wound, letting the blood stain her gloves. She announced every mile to her companion until finally after what seemed an hour or two- Maar couldn't tell, she hadn't been paying attention to the sun- they arrived upon the gates of a village. The door laid on the other side of a bridge. They were greeted by two men with spears and shields. On the other side of the bridge stood three bored teenage boys, though the wounded woman on the horse quickly regained their interest. They gawked at the odd and bloodied couple.
The guards held up their spears at Maar with suspicion.
"Who are you," one asked. "What happened to her?"

Maar could have rolled her eyes. They had little time for interviews.  Instead, the fae summoned tears to their eyes. 
"Please, you must let us into the village," she pleaded in a man's voice, her tone urgent. "We were attacked. We lost a horse. Can't you see she is in dire need of aid? Where might I find a healer?"
The guards took another look at their tattered clothes and wounds, grimancing.
"Dangerous parts, these are," one muttered, waving for the boys to open the gates.
"Please," Maar choked. "Don't let her expire."
At the guards hesitation, Maar summoned tears to her eyes.
"Please," the fae choked. "Don't let her expire."
The guards exchanged glances before ordering their companions and squires to open the guards.

Maar broke out into a grateful grin, clutching the tattered reigns.
"There's a hospital connected to the temple," one said.
Maar didn't thank them. Instead, she nodded at the guards with the air of gratitude with a hopeful grin as she rode through the streets of the village.  Finding the temple wasn't hard- it was a series of tall and airy buildings , built with white brick.  Maar rode to the front steps of the hospital, with fresh faced novices in clean robes and tunics walking to and forth. One screamed at the sight of the riders. Someone shouted a name- Maar wasn't quite paying attention, their head spinning.  Two strong and tall lads came, holding out their arms to help lower Tiraris off of the horse.
"Careful, she's dangerous," Maar said in half jest as she slipped out of the saddle and stumbled onto cobblestone.

"You think?" she hissed, wishing she could roll her eyes at Maar. With fumbling hands the assassin accepted the waterskin and did her best to drink from it. Unfortunately a great deal of the cooling liquid was splashed down her front and across her horse's mane who neighed and shook its head in displeasure.

Distantly Tiraris could hear Maar speaking to her, yet she knew she was fading. By the time they reached the village, the assassin was only remaining astride the horse through the Fae's help. It possible to think her dead even until two pairs of unfamiliar hands reached up to try and remove her from the horse did what little fight was left in her begin to show.

The assassin struggled to be released, delirious with pain, she had no idea that the hands trying to help her were not those trying to harm her. "Traitor!" her broken voice hoarsely howled at Maar even as the fiery woman tried to kick out at her teacher. "Foul demons! Unhand me!"

The pair continued to struggle with her even as she hurled insult after insult at all involved.

Maar chuckled as Tiraris struggled. The fae took in deep breaths, staring at the boots  their imagination constructed.
Those damn Mordecai, she thought, examining her burnt arm.
A young woman approached Maar nervously, though with mild interest. Her eyes were freckled lilac and her hair was a color to match, though it was dyed- the roots were blonde. Maar thought the color made her pale skin looked washed out.
"Sir," she said in a light voice. "You can't go inside the hospital with weapons."
"Oh," responded Maar with a frown. The fae handed the quiver, arrows, and knives to the girl. 
"Your arm, sir," the girl said. "
Confused, the fae looked at her arm. The glamour had slipped, exposing her burn.

"I'll be with my companion," the fae insisted. "Fetch me Ironsbane potion, if you can spare."
The girl curtsied and ran off.
Maar summoned a boy to take the horse to the stables.
"Take good care of him," she warned the boy, sternly before taking slow and shaky steps into the hospital.

She followed behind the men who carried Tiraris down the long hall. Maar was thankful for the lack of steel. The hospital was pristine. Hardly anything decorated the walls but paintings of the gods and saints. As they lied Tiraris in a feathery bed, Maar collapsed in a chair at the foot of the bed to give the healers room. Her head was swimming. Rest was needed, but Maar was anxious. She wasn't certain that the Mordecai were off their backs. It was paranoia, perhaps, but things were becoming more complex than she had originally anticipated.

She watched as a priestess was ushered in. She laid a hand on Tiraris' forehead and an open wound and began chanting a healing spell before calling for medicine and herbs. Amist the chaos, the girl came back with a small bottle full of a transparent pink liquid which Maar gulped down. The burn still hurt, but her head swum less and felt heavy more.
"How is she faring? "Maar asked.

The fight drained from Tiraris as she finally became too weak to do anything else but hang limply in their arms even as they divested her of her numerous weapons. She was barely conscious by the time the healer came to heal her wounds. Once the woman had she immediately fell into a healing sleep.

Her wound and eyes were firmly yet carefully bandaged as the woman finally answered the guised Fae. "She'll live, although you're lucky you were able to come here. Without our treatment she would not have lived. As it is she will need a great deal of rest and I must warn you, it is too early to tell but her sight may be forever damaged. May I ask what happened?"

"Even with your spells it won't be enough?" Maar asked bluntly.
"I do not know," the priestess replied bowing her head.  Maar nodded. She had seen it happen before. This case was no different. Besides, it changed nothing.
"We were attacked,"  Maar replied simply. When she sensed this wasn't enough, she  scratched her beard.
"By a group of men wanting to kill us," the fae continued.
The priestess nodded wisely.
"The Connloath borders are a dangerous to be in this hour," she signed. "Many are escaping..."
The priestess stopped when she noticed that Maar was ignoring her and instead examining her burnt arm, pulling the fabric back. 
"Let me," the priestess insisted and took the fae's arms in  her own. Once again she recited a spell. Maar flinched as her skin began to peel and regrow anew, flakes of iron dropping out.

"You're very skilled," Maar praised with a coy grin.
The priestress smiled shyly.
"Thank you, sir," she blushed.
Maar's grin only grew wider.
You owe me a favor, she thought, though she didn't say so aloud. She'd let the woman find out, eventually. Even if it took years until she needed it.
The priestess smiled, enchanted, though it fell when her hands went down to Maar's gloves. She got up nervously.

"I'll go get a novice to fetch you some food, right away," she said, rising to her feet slowly. 
"Yes," Maar agreed. The  fae was famished, having her breakfast rudely cut short.
Left alone with her student, she looked backed at Tiraris, her posture easing a bit.
"We'll pick  things up again when you're better," she said in her male guise, cheerfully.

Tiraris woke once during the night, feeling lost and confused. Her hands struggled to yank off the confining blankets but quickly gave up when she found herself too weak to care. With her eyes bandaged though she could not see and felt more vulnerable than ever.

It was only when she allowed her breath to calm enough that she was able to listen and find she was not the only one there. Through dry lips she quietly called out, hoping that the one beside her bed was in fact Maar.

"You there, Pixie?"

The priestesses and their novices made sure their "blue knight," after Maar's hair, was fed and watered. The air of mystery the knight and his near fallen lady attracted  some pairs of eyes, but Maar only flashed them a handsome smile  and answered questions vaguely, almost as in riddles. The fae did not stay by Tiraris' side the entirety of the day. After supping, she slept for a few hours before deciding to use the time to explore the temple. The halls were heavy with the scent of incense, almost dulling the senses. She asked politely about the history of the place where she saw fit, though the fae was careful to watch at corners were assassins might lurk. Finding none but too restless to sleep, Maar spent the rest of the night by Tiraris' side as a watch dog.
This is boring, she thought, lighting biting her tongue. Any stray rumors of the bodies had  not reached her ears, not yet. She had been so certain that some news would have arrived, but perhaps not in the hospital wing.


At the weak voice, Maar grinned.
"I see you've still the strength to toss barbs," she responded just as quietly in her man-voice. "Fae are wiser and more elite than your pixies, girl."
She supposed she ought to be nice instead of arguing with a stubborn woman.
"Do you need the bucket? Or watered wine?"

The blind assassin flinched horribly at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. She had been too out of it to remember that Maar had changed forms and therefore did not recognize her companion even as she sat disguised right beside her.

Her lips curled in disgust at the gentle offerings even as she struggled to get her bearings. Something was knocked off the bedside table though as her hand flailed and knocked it over. With a groan, Tiraris gave up and turned her head in the direction of the unknown "man."

"Where am I? And where is my," she swallowed the foul taste in her mouth as she spat out the last word, "companion?"

"And there goes the wine," Maar said.
She picked up the jug, saving what little left there was in it.
The fae chuckled to herself as she searched for a rag.
Tiraris clearly had no clue who she was at the moment. Though Maar felt pity for the assassin, she was bored, and this could prove to be a fun game.
Maar decided to play the part. She found one on a chair and dropped it to the ground, using her boot to mop it around.
"You're in a hospital on the temple grounds dedicated to Naus, goddess of medicine, healing, and protector of new mothers," said Maar as she worked, pouring some wine into a goblet.
"Relax and drink," she said in the man's voice soothingly, cupping the  back of Tir's head with one hand while raising the glass with the other.
"Ah, yes. Her. Isn't she but a child?," Maar asked innocently. "Or is she perhaps your sister? The priestesses are taking care of her, do not worry. You speak of her with such contempt!"

She tried her best to listen and remember where she was but there was great fuzziness going on in her brain making it hard for her to focus on much of anything at that moment. Tiraris was quickly brought back to herself with the first helpful touch of the man's hand. The assassin yanked her head away violently, refusing to drink whatever unknown concoction was being offered to her.

"No!" she cried vehemently before collecting herself. "No I will not have any of that thank you," Tiraris restated dismissively. "As for my companion she is what she is," came her cryptic response. "I speak of her no differently than I speak of anyone else although I do not see how my nature of speech is any of your business or concern."

Maar chuckled at Tiraris' cryptic attitude.
She's protecting me, she thought, almost flattered.
"Very well, I won't inquire anymore about that matter," she promised. "Though whoever she is, I'm here because she wanted someone to keep watch for you."
Truth in every word, just concealed. The fae placed the goblet in Tiraris' hands again.
"But I will have you drink, Miss. It's watered down wine. It'll only do you good," she insisted as she bent at the waist to help the woman.

Maar wondered just how much she could get away with. Tiraris obviously did not know that Maar was the man disguised before her. Maar wondered just how much she could ask and get away with.
"How do you feel, Miss?" she asked, "You were badly injured, and all your energies were slipping away. I can sense magic in things. Even though you were weak, I could tell you had strong magic in you. Mage or otherwise, though... ?"

Tiraris hummed in response thinking something very different than the man was suggesting. Stubbornly she attempted to push the goblet away from herself still shaking her head in protest. "I will not if it is all the same. I would not push my look with wine. I am fuzzy-headed enough. Wine would only make it worse."

Her head turned to offer the man a blind glare through her bandages. Tiraris was ever the sensitive one when it came to talk concerning her curse of magic. To have it brought up by a complete stranger was infuriating.

"Otherwise. What is it you do here exactly?"

"As you say," Maar said soothingly, placing the goblet down.
"Then please lie down."
She went back to her chair and sat down. Tiraris' question did not daunt the fae. e
"Why, I study. Tonight, it is my duty to keep company," Maar replied. She did study the halls of the temple that day.
"I, too, was born with magic," Maar continued, lowering her voice in thought. "I like to think I can sometimes use it for good. I"m quite knowledgeable about curses, as it happens. Maybe we can find some way to cure you. The Goddess heals those who seek, so they say."

"There is no goddess nor god nor heavenly being that could or would end that which I am forced to call my birthright" the assassin spat bitterly. "You who hide behind walls and musty old books know nothing of a world filled with cruelty that preys upon the weak and the helpless, massacring innocence in its wake.

"There is no good that comes of destruction. Leave your musings for yourself. I may be blind but that does not make me a captive audience. Once my body is healed I shall leave while the rest of me shall remain as it always has. Do not presume to know of what you speak," Tiraris growled venomously. "You know nothing!"

Maar ignored Tiraris' stubborn insults.
The ramblings of a child, she thought.
"It would be wise to keep such opinions from the priestesses," she pointed out.
"And are you saying you wish to remain this way? Forgive me for saying so, but it sounds like a cruel birthright."
She paused and squeezed one of Tiraris'  hands. Maar hardly showed her affection this way to anybody, let alone Tiraris, but she decided that the man she was pretending to be ought to be comforting.
"You must have seen and struggled much," she said, lowering her voice.  "Your strength is admirable."

She snorted and shook her head. "You do not know me. You could not possibly know if I am deserving or not of such punishment." Tiraris was shocked to find her voice so flat. Her fire was much dimmed as was her spirit. Reminders of her past paired with her current vulnerability set her in a dark mood.

The assassin did freeze though to feel her hand squeezed in a gesture of comfort. It was not something that she was accustomed to and had managed to surprise her into silence as her mind swam with the old man's words.

"There is no strength in acts of cowardice," she finally hissed, removing her hand angrily from his.

Maar stared at the blind woman in fascination. This was the first time she had seen Tiraris pity herself, out loud.
At least she finally admits it!
The fae couldn't help but to feel a bit of pity, too. The sort of magic Tiraris had was a terrible burden. Still, it had potential to be harnessed, and Tiraris' words kept her curiosity captive.
"You doubt  yourself," she challenged, keeping the man's voice bright.  "You fight fiercely. So why punishment? Did your father insult a fairy at your birth?"

Maar suddenly shifted her attention towards the hall. Ever so faintly she could hear footsteps.
A priestess, she thought.
She'd have to hide momentarily soon or risk having her cover blown!

Tiraris smirked, her lips curling cruelly as another snort escaped her. "Nay," she proclaimed, "tis far worse. My mother whored herself out to the devil," came the harsh hiss. The assassin continued to sneer in displeasure. There was no love in her for the mother who had cursed her and abandoned her when it was discovered just how broken inside the little human doll was.

She too heard the footsteps approaching and cocked her head to the side to listen. "Who approaches," she queried, directing her question to the man.

Maar stood up straighter at her student's reply. A bastard?  Now that WAS interesting. There was little time for more questioning, though. She didn't bother to answer Tiraris' question. Without making a sound or disturbing the bed, Maar stood up from the bed and slipped into the shadows underneath it as an old nurse entered the hospital ward. Maar watched as her skirts swayed as she walked. She walked careful not to trip over  the hem of her robes.
"Oh, you're awake!" she exclaimed, joyful.  She  felt Tiraris' forehead. "The other Sisters will rejoice. How are you feeling, dear?"

The assassin scowled at the woman's cheerfulness and attempted to bat away her hands. "How pitiful their lives must be to find joy in a blind woman's waking," she griped, fidgeting grumpily. "My affliction, it is," Tiraris paused as she struggled to allow herself to know the truth, "permanent?"

The old priestess chuckled at the assassin's frustration. She dealt with many types in her time. Tiraris' behavior did not phase her.
"Some thought you were beyond saving," she said, cheerful. She pursed her lips together when Tiraris asked if her blindness was permanent.
"Goddess willing, no," she said, careful not to make any promises. "We'll have a mage look at you tomorrow, m'lady. Your companion is looking after you well."
Paying them a good coin, Maar thought. Even temples had to be paid in gold for the best of services at times.

Her nostrils flared but her face remained otherwise unchanged. "That does not sound as promising as you would hope crone. The goddess has no love for one such as I." She shook her head angrily, uncaring about the mage that would examine her the next day. The idea of such a person helping her did not overly thrill her given her own unstable magic. Yet in her mind, it did not matter as Tiraris would either heal within the night or she would be forever blind.

'And out of work,' her mind cruelly piped up.

"What of your own companion?" the assassin asked as she waved a hand in the direction the gentleman's voice had been coming from. "Why has he decided to I am the patient to harass with his questions and his so-called aid?"

The priestess frowned.
"The stable boys?" she said, sternly.
The old woman shook her head.
"Dear,don't worry me like that," she fretted. "There's nobody here! It's just the medicine playing tricks on you, pay it no mind. There, there."
She filled up Tiraris' cup full of wine.
"Perhaps a drink would help clear your mind and help you sleep better," she said, pleasantly.

Tiraris growled testily. She was not delusional and she was tired of people mollycoddling her. With an angry swipe of her hand the cup went flying across the room and smashed into what sounded like a wall then the floor with two resounding clangs.

"He said the same. I do not need your drugged sleeps; I need answers. There was a man here who spoke to me. I may blind," she spat, "but I am neither lame nor stupid. Now if he was sitting there right before you came so he either vanished into thin air or he is still in this room. Mind explaining that?"

Ah, Tiraris, Maar thought. Always keeping one on their toes.
The old woman frowned and shook her head.
"I do not know," she responded, a hint of worry and frustration in her voice.
She picked up the cup and placed it on the night table.
"Who did they tell you they were?"
She thinks I'm an intruder, Maar thought. That wouldn't do.
Maar slipped through the shadows out of the room and reemerged as the man.

As the priestess talked to herself some more, Maar strolled into the room with an easy air.
"Forgive my brief absence, lady," Maar said.
She bowed before the priestess, who stiffened in Maar's presence.
"Who are you?" she asked.
"No need to fret, Sister," Maar said, smoothly. "I'm a hired hand."
"Violence is not permitted in the temple," the priestess said hotly.
Maar chuckled and bowed again.
"No," she agreed in the man's voice. "But I'm obliged to be here all the same."

She smirked at the wine puddle on the floor.
"Not an obedient patient," she observed.
"By whose order?" challenged the priestess.
"She did not say?" Maar said, as if she did not know. She laughed.
"M'lady's companion wanted someone to watch over her. I'm obliged to be here."

The priestess mulled over Maar's words, their eyes never breaking contact. Finally, she nodded stiffly.
"Very well," she said.
"You behave yourself, young man..."
"Good night, Sister," Maar said as she sat at the foot of the bed.

The priestess nodded and walked past the bed to check on the other patients.

"I do not need watching over," the assassin muttered under her breath, knowing her desires would go unheeded. When at last the pair was relatively alone again, Tiraris continued her silence, her lips pressed tightly in a thin line. She had quite a few suspicions concerning her "watcher."

"You lied to her," she began, refusing to look in his direction, "in your own manner. My companion did not send you, did she? In fact, you never actually left the room to begin with, did you, fairy?"

They were blind accusations, shots in the dark, but Tiraris believed that the man beside her was no man at all but something more. She was not going to allow herself be so deceived, not while she was so vulnerable.

Maar grinned widely at Tiraris' accusations. The human was learning well.
"To conduct one's business, if you take my meaning, in front of a lady is rude. Blind or not blind!" Maar idly said, keeping up with the persona.
She leaned back in her chair, her gloved hands digging into the material of her shirt.
Fairy, she thought acidically with a loose grin on her face.
"Go back to sleep, lady," Maar said, as sweet as could be.

"I thought I was your business," came her smug reply. "You would do well to stop calling me 'lady' and ordering me around unless you want to ensure that you become a pixie with plucked wings, good teacher."

Tiraris shifted where she sat but refused to lie down. "With the way you go one, one would begin to believe that you did not honestly have my best interests as much at heart as you claim. Slipping in our old age are we? Not quite so sprite-I mean spry, anymore?"

Out of the corner of her eye, Maar saw the priestess shoot the two of them a confused glance. Maar only shrugged, as if confused.
"Yes, you are my business," she said with a chuckle. "And don't be silly.  I've no wings to pluck. But if I must tell you..."
She leaned in close to Tiraris' ear so the priestess heard nothing.
"You speak so cruelly of your teacher, my lady," she said. Tiraris' words had stung her pride.  "Yet I'm here to protect you because of her will.  Was she not the one who brought you here? And it appears that she hid both identities quite well."

Tiraris hummed, leaning back into the pillows, feeling quite pleased with herself. In her mind, she had won this round. "Perhaps," the assassin admitted with a shrug. "However, I would think at this point my teacher would recognize my bad temper and have learned to avoid poking at it."

She scooted back down in the bed so that she could get some rest and finally closed her eyes, shocked at how heavy her lids felt. "I never doubted her capabilities," came a soft murmur from her tired lips. "I just wish she would..." No more was said as Tiraris fell into a dreamless slumber.

Maar chuckled.
But alas, your teacher is the sort who enjoys poking at tempers, she thought. She listened with interest as Tiraris drifted off into sleep, leaving the fae in anticipation. Maar sat in her chair, mulling over what she just learned for a quiet moment before quietly rising to her guise's feet and adjusted Tiraris' blanket.

Maar slept lightly and briefly that night. When the nurses and priestesses came tuttering and praying in the early hours of the morning, Maar rose from her chair.
"Good morning," Maar said politely to a priestess who came by Tiraris' bedside.
"Good morning to you," she replied. "Did you sleep well? Are you hungry? Would you like a razer for a shave?"
Maar chuckled as she stroked her guise's chin hair, still perfectly groomed.
"No, thank you," she replied. "By any chance, may I have permission to access the library?"
--

As it turned out, visitors were allowed in the temple's library. Maar had decided she would  have sneaked in, anyway, but permission sometimes made things so much more easy and simple. Sometimes the fae could appreciate simple. She decided that during that morning, while Tiraris was being pampered and fussed over the holy women, that she in turn would catch up on her research on curses and the bloodlines of noble houses. She sat in a wooden chair clearly not made for comfort, with a lot of scrolls and two heavy books arranged in a semi-circle around her.

When she awoke it was with great relief that Tiraris found she could not only see but feel rays of morning light upon her face. Her vision was incredibly blurry as only changes of light and moving shapes were visible but it was a start that she was incredibly grateful for.

She irritatedly brushed away the annoying matron that wished to check her health, weakly searching for her companion and finding no one. Catching her looks the High Priestess smiled and patted the assassin's hand.

"He went off to the library to do some reading. He hadn't left your side until a few minutes ago. Shall I tell him you're awake?"

"No need," came her gruff response. "I do not owe him anything. He was serving my teacher, not I. How soon before I can see fully?"

"Well I would like to keep you here a week to ensure you are complet-"

"I do not have a week to sit and do nothing. Will I be healed within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours?"

"Well I cannot say for certain but I would assume so-"

"Then I will leave as soon as that period of time is over if not sooner. Your services are no longer needed at this moment."

Like the noblewoman she had been brought up to become, Tiraris dismissed the woman with a wave of her hand. She was far too busy contemplating what she remembered from the night before to pay attention to the disgruntled priestess. The assassin had to remember if she had said anything incriminating in her vulnerable state. The last thing she needed was Maar having another hold over her.

 Maar growled at the book of noble households as she flipped through the pages. Nothing. Tiraris Silverd'art wasn't in there. And why should she?
A fake name, the fae thought. Well, that only made things a little more complicated. Maar scribbled down the names of noblewomen who were born between twenty five to thirty years ago. She noticed one in particular had married three times, but thought nothing unusual of it. Disease, war, and arrogance made most  noblemen extremely easy to kill. Maar settled to investigate the list on  further notice.

As the fae became deeply engrossed in a book about curses, writing notes every  now and then, a sudden cough interrupted her. The fae flickered her eyes over towards a priestess, but did not stop her writing.
"Is something the matter?" she asked in a masculine voice. She had almost forgotten she was wearing a male guise.
"Sir," the priestess said, disturbed. "Your, erm, ward is awake."
"Is she now?" Maar asked.
The priestess nodded.

"Yes. She's making an excellent recovery, but..." she bit her tongue. Maar smiled gently.
"Go on," she encouraged.
"It's not my place to say," the priestess confessed, "But she's being awfully stubborn and refuses much aid. Perhaps if you found her teacher, they'd help?"
"She told you about a teacher?" Maar asked. Well, that meant making another guise.
The priestess nodded.  Maar smiled.
"I'll go see what I can do. Good day."
Maar rolled up her notes, tucked it into her shirt , and left the library.
I'm hungry, she thought as she left the temple grounds. She took in a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air.

---
When Maar came back to the temple, she was a moderately pretty but pox marked woman, with wide set features and silkly brown hair that reached  a little past her shoulders. She smiled as she stood at the feet of  Tiraris' bed.
"Hello, Tiraris," she asked in a voice a little more raspier and softer than her true form's. "Did you miss me?"

Tiraris' head shot in the direction of the new voice. While her sight was recovering, she still had not gotten used to moving her eyes about to see and was moving her entire head in the direction she wanted to look.

"What is there to miss of a nagging hag? Finally got bored of being pampered and decided to check on your whelp? Your um, guardian that you sent was not appreciated, I hope you know. Jamming potions down my throat is the least kindly thing a person could do for someone they are supposed to be ensuring is comfortable and not dead. I hope you will be rectifying that matter later then, teacher."

Maar chuckled at Tiraris' jabs and scanned Tiraris' night table. The priestesses had cleaned it and had refilled the wine and water pitchers.
"I diagree," she responded. "I know you don't care much for what I think, but I think that you needed the help. Nasty potions or no, you're doing better today than yesterday."
She dramatically shrugged.
"But, if I must, I'll see what I can do," she said. Maar reached out to playfully tap Tiraris' shoulder.
"Is there anything you need during our stay?" Maar asked. "I might as well. I've been studying all morning and I fancy a walk."

"Studying?" she repeated, her head shooting up in interest. "What exactly were you researching in a place like this?" Tiraris wondered if she was going to be regretting helping Maar a great deal sooner than she had imagined she would be. Several ideas raced through her mind as to what the Fae woman could have been up to and none of them were good although a few were only mildly detrimental to the assassin's health and sanity.

Maar shrugged nonchalantly, holding up her neatly rolled piece of parchment.
"Curses and history and the like," she said, for a moment revealing her pointed teeth.
"Always keep on your toes."
She neatly hid it within her vest.
"I think I'll get you something sweet to eat. Or maybe a necklace for your fair neck," Maar teased.

Tiraris' eye twitched. "A necklace?" she asked warily, wondering where the trick in Maar's comment was. "Will it be cursed, teacher? Perhaps made of iron to slowly poison me? Or bearing so many spells so as to bend me to your will and curb my already caustic nature? No, I think it best you not waste your coin. I can do without such gaudy adornments. Had enough of those to last me a lifetime," she accidentally let slip, not even realizing that she had done so.

Maar humphed at Tiraris' reply.
"Oh have you?" she challenged.
"Well, looks like I'm all found out. I was toying with the idea of maybe going to buy me a curse to help you speak like a lady, or not say anything at all. but cat's out of the bag, as your kind likes to put it. Whoopsies."

With a laugh and a wave, Maar left the hospital. She toyed with the idea, but paid no serious consideration. Such artifacts did more harm than good- and to know that such methods were used put a sour taste in her mouth.
Her parents were not the keenest, she thought before being seduced by the smells of the market.

In her knightly guise, Maar patrolled through the streets, flirting with village girls for an extra piece of bread, or pretending to be keenly interested in the armories while listening into the conversations of the authorities.

"Hello, shadow bird,"  a voice growled.
Maar turned around to find a tall and  willowy man, his skin tanned by the sun. His deep set eyes were red-brown, which matched  a giant scar that consumed the right side of his neck. Most of it was covered by a high collar, but his face was a familiar one. Maar remembered old clients.
"Were you looking for me?" Maar asked causally.
"One of your own told me to seek you here," he said before pressing an envelope into her hands.

"I'm staying at the  Burrow Inn."
"Running low on funds and yet you come to me?" Maar asked as she patted him on the shoulder. The fae let out a hearty chuckle as the knights walked past.
"I'll see you later tonight. We'll talk then, "  Maar promised.

Much better than a necklace.

The assassin sneered a fake toothy grin of disgust. "All you had to do was ask, dear teacher. There is no need for your usual theatrics as are the trademark of your kind." It aggravated Tiraris to no end to have to deal with this imp. Part of her regretted ever saving the damn creature's life.

The moment she was free of Maar's presence and those of the annoying healer's staff, Tiraris slipped from her bed and shakily made her way across the floor. Her eyes stung something fierce but she was determined to find her things and get out of there as fast as possible, pixie be damned.

Maar shifted her glamour in a discreet location so that she was back to being the handsome and friendly young man with blue hair. The fae politely bowed to the nuns and those exiting the hospital  in a cheerful hello on their way to their student's bedside. Maar knew the bed was empty before approaching the room- she felt the lack of the magical energy.
Her things are missing, too, Maar thought, shaking her head.
Maar called over one of the nuns.
"Excuse me, miss,"she said in a light masculine voice. "But where is the lady to whom this bed belongs?"
"Oh!" the nurse said, her eyes widening with worry. "I, um... I-I don't know, sir..."

Maar patted the woman's shoulder, reassuringly.
"That is alright," the fae said. "Make sure she is found."
With that, Maar left the hospital room.
So much trouble, she thought, not really that put out of sorts. She should've known Tiraris was going to pull a stunt like this, though the fae had hoped she wasn't dumb enough to. The woman couldn't have wandered far, though  there was the possibility she hired a ride out of the city.

Tiraris was far from stupid enough to attempt to leave the city quite yet. She suspected that the moment Maar realized her absence she would come looking for her missing student. If the assassin was lucky she could hole herself up in a room in some inn and wait the fae put until her eyes healed fully. Then Tiraris would be free to do whatever she wanted.

Cloaked and on somewhat unsteady feet she made her way through dark alleys and less frequented streets in search of a place that would not care who occupied their rooms as long as coin passed hands. A flash of steel and glint of gold soon had her tucked away in a sparse little room far from the worries of a troublesome teacher.

'Take that pixie! See if you can find me now.'

"I'm staying at the  Burrow Inn."

Maar tried to follow the trail of Tiraris' magic. It was pulling a strand of yarn from a tangled pile. The path was muddled with others, both from the mages that lived in the city and magical creatures... whether they knew it or not.  After a while of  following the general pool of magic and a few educated guesses later, Maar found herself standing before an alleyway. The din of the marketplace was replaced by the coarse shouts of a jilted wives, the wail of babies, and the whispered exchanges between shifty folk.   Maar did not step into the shadowy streets.

She looked up at the sky and squinted her eyes. Though the twilight was upon Serendipity, its rays were still as brilliant and burning as they were at noon.
Best go to the inn, Maar decided as she submerged herself into the crowd again. As the fae walked through the cobble stone streets, she entertained herself with schemes to prank her student as a form of punishment.

Oblivious to the fact that the inn Maar intended to stay in was the very one she resided in, Tiraris settled in for the night. Between the struggles of escaping and hiding, the assassin had completely worn herself out and was soon dozing curled up on the thin pallet of a mattress, trying to drown out the pain in her eyes with the soothing darkness of rest.

Maar clinked glasses with her client, Yuri Cliventa, and deeply drunk her mead, savoring the taste. This was their fourth drink so far. Yuri was getting red in the face and swaying, but Maar hardly felt any numbing in her fingers, toes, or tongue. Still, just to keep the human guise, she matched the flushing and smiled clumsily. It was fun, acting tipsy. People were so strange!

They had already discussed the formalities of the job in the corner of the inn. It was almost too simple for the likes of Maar. Dangerous and most likely would have her executed if she was caught, but that was always the case. Still, Yuri paid a fortune, in one way or another, and often had ways of getting rare items. Normally, Maar made requests on whims, but this time, it was very specific.  Yuri whistled and thought about her request for a moment.
"I can pull a full strings," he said.

Maar looked at him straight in the eye.
"Set price, as we discussed, AND that," she said before asking for the bar maid for another round.
"All the drinks are on you too!" she added with a giggle.
"Careful," Yuri grumbled, defeated. "Yer breakin' character."

Her sleep was restless and plagued with nightmares. While Maar amused herself with drinks and clients, Tiraris was caught in a world of swirling black and haunting crimson. Inaudible whispers echoed within her ears as monsters lurked just behind her. Yet, every time her dreamself whipped around there was nothing behind her to be seen.

In the physical world, the assassin tossed and turned within her bed. Her covers were kicked to the floor as an arm was thrown over her eyes and the other dangled off the bed, knuckles brushing the floor.

Yuri stood up.
"Second floor. Room wi' the bear on it," he informed her before belching loudly. Maar nodded and held out her cup.
"To bears," she teased before gulping the rest of her mead down. She shivered as it went down her throat, tickling her spine.
Yuri did not seem too eager.
"To good fortune," he insisted before leaving the disguised fae to her drink.
Maar nodded good naturally, though didn't bother to watch him go.

She knew she would be needed shortly. Instead, she lingered behind, her eyes wandering around the room. She made it a game, to listen, to pick up pieces of gossip. The fae became engrossed in the tale  of how an old soldier lost his toe. After the story ended, she rose to her feet, with all intentions on joining her client. However, she took one look at her empty cup, made a face, and summoned the bar maid, again.
"A bottle of your strongest wine, please,' she insisted. Just because Yuri had his fill didn't mean she did not!

After two such bottles, she was very content and very full. Maar climbed the steps to the inn. There were rooms both left and right, each with a unique plate dipicting an animal. None of them were very well carved.
"Duck, Wolf, Sheep," Maar muttered allowed. Though that last one could have been a dog.

She was looking for a bear...
There were rooms both left and right, each with a unique plate dipiciting a animal. None were very well carved.
"Duck, Wolf, Sheep...." Maar muttered allowed, enjoying the crude handiwork, when something pulled on her conciousness. She stopped when she stood in front of a door that depicted... well, she didn't know what. it was big, and round, with large claws and a snout. Maar snorted louder than she intended to, giggling hysterically. She could feel the tips of her ears and fingers growing just the slightest bit numb.

Oh, dear, she thought. Yuri will scold me.

Somehow, that thought was even more amusing as she fumbled with the door. The fae didn't knwo why she bothered. Of course it was locked. Yuri would have been counting she had her own way in. So, Maar slippd into th shadows and flowed through under the threshold... For fun, she immdiately crept up the wall,  prepared to prank Yuri by scaring him from behind. Half way across the room, she realized he wasn't there. The room was dark, though moonlight peaked through the shutters, casting its light onto a sleeping figure. Though a thief, Maar decided to spare robbing the innocent for the day, until she caught a glimpse of the sleeping figure from the ceiling.

THAT was enough to shock her out of the shadows. Maar came tumbling out from the wall, crashing onto the floor. She softened the fall by performing a clumsy sumersalt, which lead to her banging her head against the other side of the room. The fae let out a short and sharp shout , her head spinning.

Even in sleep the feel of something lurking about in the darkness made her skin crawl. Tiraris came into consciousness slowly yet quietly as her hand slipped beneath her pillow for the knife she always kept at the ready. Her ears strained to listen for any sounds that would indicate something was amiss.

However, she need not have stressed herself as her little intruder was soon making herself known with a series of thumps and thuds followed by a shout. The assassin immediately flung herself from her bed, pouncing upon the intruder with her blade at the new victim's throat and a hand over the nuisance's mouth in order to silence any potential screams. The threat was clear, if the midnight creeper made one false move, her life would be forfeit to a rather grumpy human.

Maar gasped as the blade touched her throat. She could feel a drop of blood run down as the iron scorched her skin.
Damnit all. She's quick, the fae thought, coughing into Tiraris' hand. It was getting harder to breathe, but she did not dare to move.
For a half moment, she thought she could slip in the shadows, appear in a safe distance- but she did not. Instead, she silently changed her guise from the knight who had escorted the wounded woman back to the child with chopped short auburn hair.

Tiraris growled, purposefully nicking Maar with her knife before shoving her away once she realized whom she had clasped within her grasp. "Gods above!" she shouted angrily, dragging herself weakly back to her feet and over to her bed. "Damn pixie! You are lucky I did not slit your throat on first instinct or stomp you into the ground for your cheek. Idiot! Do not even think for a second I will welcome you into my bed. Find your own room. This one is taken."

Maar gasped for air as Tiraris pulld back. As the woman yelled, Maar could only sit on the floor, a bit drunk and numb as she rubbed her throat. She could still feel the iron's kiss.
"That might be wise. Humans go mad after bedding faes, it's said," Maar teased through sputters.
For once, however, she did not argue.
"I'm glad you're alive and fiesty as ever," she said, cheerfully. "I  was worried, ya know. You shouldn't just run off like that, ya know. Normally, we'd talk, but lucky for you, your ears will be spared. I've something I must do. You'll be safe here. Rest until I return. Sweet dreams."

With that, she slipped into the shadows, gone as if nothing was there, nothing but the wind.

Even with her absence, Tiraris still cruelly tossed a dagger into the shadow that Maar had disappeared into with an angry growl. All her efforts and pains to escape and even drunk the fae had managed to stumble upon her. The assassin cursed the cruel fates their mischief even as she struggled to gather her things together again. She would be damned if she stayed another minute under the same roof as the other woman. If she could manage it, Tiraris would escape back into the night and be lucky enough that the fae's resulting hangover the next day would keep her from being found quite so quickly again.

After a long discussion on business, among other matters, Maar fell asleep and woke up at dawn. Yuri was fast asleep, snoring loudly. She washed her face, wincing as the water hit her burned skin.
I'll check on Tiraris when I return, she resolved.
Before noon, she figured.
She snatched a letter from the table and placed it carefully in one of her secret bags. For once, she was not to steal, but to plant. A fun, quick mission that would no doubtly yield interesting results, yet that was not up to her to decide. She slipped into the shadows, and slittered down the vine covered walls into the slowly rising streets of the city.

Tiraris wandered the city center, blending with the crowd as she tried to get her aching head to come up with a plan. She wondered how long before she was found again and just how much blood would be spilled between the two of them for surely as soon as the huntress was well enough she would be swinging a fist in the fae's direction with the intention of causing pain. It was as always simply a matter of time.

A true professional, Maar completed the job without a single fault. In her possession was a letter that she was to plant in a priestess' room by a temple for a local earth goddess. It was a clean, simple room, yet small details gave away clues to a colorful former life. A small detailed and faded tapestry, books neatly piled in a foreign language, and a particularly rich looking inkwell that should not be in possession of one as so humble as her. The letter faintly smelt of flowers, and Maar knew the letter was a beckoning, back to whatever shadows the woman clearly tried to flee from. Maar found herself wishing the priestess to choose wisely before slipping away as the bells chimed.

She had made a promise, but first, medicine was required. The burn at her throat ached, and needed proper treatment. In her knightly guise, liking to keep things consistant, Maar quietly purchased the right ointment from a local vender for cheap. Thankfully, since they were in Serendipity, the right treatments were plentiful and cheaper. Under the shade of a crabapple tree she applied the cool lotion to her skin, hissing as it made contact.
That foolish girl, she thought.

When she returned back to the inn, it was almost elevan, and Yuri was waiting for her with food and drink in the room. He placed the mony on the table.
"While you were out, I  had a talk with one of my friends," he explained. With a few exagerrated details of the pains he went through, Yuri made a deal that the thing Maar had asked for would arrive the next afternoon.
"Perfect," Maar replied as she rose to her feet and wiped her chin.
"Leaving already?" Yuri asked, confused.
"There's something I must do," she replied and with that, was gone.

She travelled in the shadows through the dimly lit hall and into Tiraris' room. It was empty. Wordlessly, Maar touched the bed. It was cold; she had left hours ago. In the locked , private room Maar became Awari, her hands clasped together in thought.
I made a promise, the fae thought, pursing her lips together in frustration. 
Does that mean nothing to that child?

The fae examined the abandoned room, her eyes wandering over to spot where she had been tackled. Tiraris had to have left in a hurry. Most likely after that incident.
"Pheh," she spat as she turned to face a mirror on a vanity. The sight did nothing to heal her pride. She was forced to look at the glaring, bright scar inflicted by her student.
If I had taught her at all, she thought with an almost sad smirk  as she touched her tattoo.
Tiraris was rude, too rude to one who held the title of Purple Hawk General. Though the fae enjoyed Tiraris' spunk, this was a deliberate slight agaisnt her pride, and it could not go unignored.

The figure that was once Awari became the handsome, manly knight again.
Yuri will be glad to see me again, she thought as she conjured the best way to give him a fright.

Maar was not the only one being sought after though, as not long after the oppressive noon day sun shine brightly in the sky did a cloaked stranger shouldered his way past Tiraris while dropping a bit of parchment into Her unsuspecting hand. The action brought her amusement as she found a quiet and shaded place to read the familiar scrawl.

She did not even have time to reread the missive had she wanted to before icy lips pressed against the crook of her neck as spidery fingers firmly gripped her hips. "Well, well, well if it isn't the firestarter herself. What brings you here little flame?" The words tickled her skin, making her flesh pimple.

"Hello Eiven," she returned saucily. "Last I heard you were trapped in the desert for disappointing a witch."

"You know how story-telling goes my dear. Boredom breeds such extravagance. Although I must ask. Is it boredom that spreads rumors of your traveling with a high-flying hawk?"

Tiraris snorted and pulled away to blend into the shadows of the alleyway better and face him. "You know how gossipers are, Eiven. By sundown word of my encounter with an infamous vampire King will spread across the entire county I am sure."

"Elevated to King now am I? How slendid!"

"As you said. Boredom breeds extravagance. Careful you do not lose your head over it. This missive though," she raised the bit of parchment still loosely clutched in her hand, "requires a favor before anything may progress."

"Ah business as usual I see. Here I thought you actually missed me!"

The assassin gave a small half smile before continuing. "I have a tail that needs occupying if I am to do this."

"So the rumors are true then!"

She glared in response, turning on her heel to storm back out of the shadows. A swift and expected tug on her elbow stilled her, although Tiraris remained with her back to the other man and only her head cocked to face him.

"Come I know a place where we may sit and speak. I doubt you have eaten and you look paler than myself. We can't have such scrumptious life force go to waste," he purred, licking his lips as her own eyes rolled in agitation. The pair soon made their way though to a quiet restaurant off the beaten path where they could indeed converse in private.