Under a Moonless Sky...[Lyra]

[Isolde]

Under a Moonless Sky...

30 GLADE 123

The night sky was pitch black, a moonless and starless sky covered in dark gray clouds as if it knew what was about to go down tonight.

The Assassination of Lyra the shopkeeper. Isolde had the information she needed for this assassination. The lorestone crystal her father provided imprinted the knowledge into her mind. Her target would be on her way back to her mansion from her shop. Lyra is one of the best scriveners in Kalzasi, and she wasn't well liked among the people. A heavily pregnant woman shouldn't be too hard to kill, though. Damn, when did Isolde get so... emotionless. The thought of killing the pregant woman didn't phase her much.

Isolde wore dark brown leather armour, it made it easier to stay light on her feet. Her daggers were strapped to her tighs for easy access, and three throwing knives stashed in each boot. She wouldn't need much weapons for a simple misson. How hard can it be to kill a pregnant defenseless woman?

The carriage strolled past and Eztli slipped from the shadows. She ran alongside the carriage, judging where she could climb up onto the moving vehicle. The Assassin, jumped up, her hands almost losing grip as she pulled herself up, she was quiet as she climbed, pulling herself up onto the roof. Her footfalls were quiet as she crouched, slowly and quietly walked to the front of the carriage.

Unsheathing her dagger, the assassin laid down on her stomach, lowering herself down to the carriage driver. Isolde covered his mouth with her left hand and pressed the blade of her dagger against his neck. The carriage driver's hands shot up to pulled her arm away, but the attempt was futile as her dagger sliced through the flesh on his neck. Red liquid gushed out of his neck, and a gurgled choking sound came from the dying man's mouth.

Isolde didn't feel sorry for the innocent life she took. She was focused on her mission. Assassinate Lyra, and anyone who gets in Isolde's way will die. Isolde took hold of the reins, pushing the body aside to make room for herself, she lowered herself down onto the carriage seat, and sat next to the corpse. She wiped the blood from her dagger on the dead man's clothes and sheathed back into the tigh holster strapped to her leg.

Isolde pulled the reins back, forcing the horses to a stop. She let go of the reins, and climbed down from the carriage seat onto the ground. Isolde inspected the door to inside the carriage momentarily, before pulling it open...

"Common" | 00FFF6

"Sknskrit" | 0061FF

[Lyra]

Lyra could almost hear the sound of falling sand as she gazed out the window of her slowly rocking carriage. A sense of anticipation, or perhaps apprehension hung over her soul like an ever present cloud on an otherwise beautiful day. Had she felt this way with her other children? Lyra could not be sure, a fact which brought with it a demure sense of regret. She had thought often of late of her past, changed as she was from the dealings with the demonic deals of Franky in Zaichaer. A clarity unlike she had felt in thousands of years had settled on her heart, and with that came a new perspective on her past which left her feeling conflicted. True regret was still too far from her understanding, but she did feel the vestiges of it. Could she have done something different? Should she have? Yet she knew that Lyrielle was not someone who held the capacity for such things, and even as she was now Lyra was not what others would call kind nor compassionate.

"Perhaps if fates had been kinder." Lyra whispered, absently rubbing her swollen abdomen, "Could we have been..."

No. Simply and irrevocably, no matter how different the events Lyra felt certain she still would have traveled a similar path. Fates and destinies were not so easily subverted after all, but perhaps if things had been different she might have done more for the decedents of her blood. Poor, cursed children that they were, they still deserved more than what they received, Lyra was certain.

A ripple in the veil caught Lyra's attention, and she looked forward toward the front of the carriage in time to see a soul drifting aimlessly in the cabin. Curious Lyra extended her hand, the small soul floating to rest above her palm. A moment passed as she allowed a connection to form, filtering through the recent memories before the carriage came to halt. A small smile tugged at the corner of Lyra's lips before she opened her mouth to swallow the soul, sitting a bit straighter, or as much as she was able, and resting her hands on her stomach before facing the door just as it opened.

It was a woman, wrapped in leathers similar to Naila. A mercenary of sorts? Golden eyes rimmed in crimson traced down the assassins' body, pausing on her eyes where she stared deeply as if searching for something.

"Good evening, be'mir." The words were soft, with a cadence similar to what would would use with a small child. Lyra brushed back a strand of her silver hair as she tilted her head, "What brings one as lovely as you to these streets so late when monsters roam the shadows."

Her smile widened. Though she wore her mortal form, there was still a sense of oddness about her, like she was not all there, or perhaps that she did not belong. Otherness was what others had used to describe the sensation, which was only heightened by the black tattoos that seemed to move on their own, barely visible at her wrists where her find gold trimmed black robes ended.

[Isolde]

Isolde was caught off gaurd as her target greeted her, not an ounce of worry was in her voice. Isolde stared at the woman for a moment. She didn't feel quite right, didn't look quite right, something about her was odd. Almost, creepy. So, this was Lyra the Shopkeeper. Somehow, she didn't feel just like a Shopkeeper. Isolde glanced down at the woman's stomach for a brief second before her eyes shot back to Lyra's face. Heavily pregnant she was, she shouldn't be too hard to kill. However, for some reason, Isolde now doubted that this would be an easy misson. It didn't feel quite right.

The Assassin didn't speak for a moment, even after her target spoke. She just stared at her. And finally, after what felt like forever, Isolde spoke. "I am here to kill you." The Assassin forced her lips up into a slight smile. "Why else would I be here?" It was obvious, wasn't it? That she was here to murder this woman.

Isolde wasn't entirely sure if she should enter the carriage with the woman. However, she pushed down her hesitation and climbed into the carriage.

Inside the carriage, there was two seats directly across from each other. Isolde stood directly across from Lyra. She was a trained Assassin, she shouldn't feel hesitant around a target. But, she simply couldn't help but feel uneasy. Now closer to her target, Isolde unsheathed both her daggers that was strapped to both her thighs. They were sharpened, the blade of the right dagger was stained a pinkish red colour from murdering the carriage driver.

"A lot of people don't really like you, it seems." Isolde tilted her head to the side like a cat would. "I now understand why. Something about you is just not right."

Isolde just needed to slit her throat... She raised her dagger, twisted her hand so it was to the side, the sharp edge of the silver blade pointed, and pressed it against Lyra's neck.

"Common" | 00FFF6

"Sknskrit" | 0061FF

[Lyra]

Lyra's eyes widened in genuine surprise at the woman's words.

"To kill me?" she asked, confusion bleeding into curiosity. Truthfully Lyra had not realized her reputation had become so poor. Had she done something to insult one of the Greater Houses? Perhaps that oily man from a few seasons prior had realized she was never going to visit him at his manner? Or was it due to her affiliations with the Iron Queen and her house? A multitude of potential answers rose and were dismissed in the small window of time during which the assassin joined her in the carriage.

"How troublesome..." sighed the shopkeeper, shaking her head slightly, "Though it is an inconvenience, I am not one to hamper another in their work."

Lyra tilted her head back as the cold steel was pressed against her skin, her eyes now locking onto Isolde's, "Do as you must, little kitten. Use whatever method you desire, but be warned."

Her amused smile faded to a thin line as her eyes turned cold, "Should you harm my child, I will rip your soul from your body and have you dance in eternal darkness until the day this world turns to ash."