Open The Sinister Memory Returns

[Daishira]

Smiling at Synthira's acceptance, Daishira offered, "We could go to the Kelp Bar and take in its warmth. It would be much more desirable than outside in this chilly weather. It is only a short two minutes walk from where we are."

Although his response was short, Daishira did listen to Synthira. One thing he liked was her honesty about her horse and her riding skills. Modesty was something that seemed rare to find in the mines of men's souls. This he respected. He himself was not the most avid rider; after all, he was only 3 years old and so a lack of experience followed. He could confidently ride though.

One part of her speech in particular caught Daishira's keen ears:

"I do have a horse, actually. I hope to travel all around until I find..."

Why did she trail off? He assumed it must be something private, and he would not press under normal circumstances. This he just ignored.

As soon as the two got on their way, Daishira kept the conversation flowing. "If you don't mind me asking, what race are you?"

He couldn't quite make out what she was. In the darkness, there were few subtleties that told him the difference between human and any other race of similar build. In the short time they had been in each other's companies, Daishira did pick out the obvious. Purple eyes. No human had purple eyes.

[Synthira]

Synthira walked with the man towards the Kelp Bar. She'd heard many times of the wonders of kelp beer, and now was her chance to try it herself. The two walked in silence for some time before Daishira asked her race. She almost laughed in surprise. She hadn’t been in Zeltiva long, but that was not a question she had heard before. To most, it was obvious that she was not human. But the people she had met were either familiar with the konti race, or didn’t care enough to bother. Synthira wondered how young the kelvic was. Then again, there were a great many things she didn’t understand, even at thirty two. “I’m a konti. We are an all female race, sometimes thought of as the daughters of Avalis. We are typically marked from birth, either from Rak’keli or Avalis.” She pushed her cloak and hair back, gesturing to her own Seer’s lily at the back of her neck. “We are also born with a sort of unique… talent, perhaps. They’re typically very specific, and they differ quite a bit from one konti to the next. They don’t make us any better than the next person. We can simply see a little more. That’s all.” She paused to breathe, wondering if he’d gotten sick of her talking. He did not stop her, however, so she continued. “We all look similar. Pale skin, hair, and eyes. Our features apart from that differ as much as humans’. We also possess scale-like patterns along our legs and arms.” She drew back her sleeve, just slightly, to show him the pattern that ran across her hands. They had now reached the kelp bar, so she paused just outside the door. “Any questions?”

[Daishira]

Circling the two from above, the assassins stalked the two plus horse. Of course, they weren't directly overhead, but atop the surrounding buildings. They did so with such guile and stealth, there was no possibility of detecting them. Like black panthers, they silently moved against the dark skyline with swift agility.

As soon as the target and his new friend stopped outside the Kelp Bar, the leader (the one who was stopped from assaulting Daishira previously) held up his hand in a fist and whistled. The whistle could not be heard at ground level above the common commotion, but the other assassins on the rooftops could make out the command. They all stopped, still as statues cursed to remain motionless for the rest of time.

The leader spoke gruffly but quietly and with no hesitation, the speech of direct orders, "We wait outside for them to come out. If the crowd has cleared up, we jump and ambush. If not, we continue following until an opportunity arises. Questions?"

Silence followed.

"Good..."

* * *

As they walked, Daishira certainly did show genuine interest in Synthira's explanation of her race, contrary to her thoughts about him growing tired of her talking. She was Konti. Daishira was unfamiliar with this particular race and the details fascinated him. The race's individuals' unique talents, her physical features including her lily at the back of her neck, but most of all, that her race was an all female race. This brought logic out of Daishira's realms.

"Synthira," Daishira said as they stopped outside the Kelp Bar, "How do you, you know, breed? If you're all female?"

In addition to this question, Daishira wondered about her particular talent. She did say about the race's specific talents, but not hers for some reason.

Daishira pressed, "And you said your race is born with a unique talent? So, what's yours?"

He realised he may have seemed to pry information out of her, but he did not mean to appear so. To rectify this, he tilted his head to the side and looked into the Konti's eyes. Not too sharply or intrusive, but gently and softly, to show his interest in her race.

[Synthira]

Daishira's first question made Synthira blush crimson, and in the dim light of the kelp bar she knew she couldn’t hide it. His second, however, made her smile. My, aren’t we curious? Synthira was not suspicious as a rule, and the soft look in the man’s eyes showed her that his words came from genuine curiosity. She personally was familiar with a thirst for answers, so she would humor him. They sat down at a table, and a waiter quickly brought them a thick and fishy-smelling drink. The konti eyed the fluid suspiciously. She waited to take a drink until she saw the kelvic do so. The flavor was….interesting, to be sure. She became suddenly very aware that he was waiting on her answer. “Well, we…we breed by…it’s sort of…” She tore her eyes away from his, coloring an even deeper red. She took another sip of the drink, and immediately regretted the decision. “We breed…well, like anyone else does, I imagine. We are compatible with any race’s males. The only difference is that the child will always be born konti.” “As for my gift, my mother called it bond reading. It relies on touch – say, if I paid for my drink and the bartender’s hand touched my own. I have no control over it, and it can be terribly inconvenient at times. But when I am in contact with someone else, I can see the person they feel most strongly about at that moment in time. It can be a positive or negative feeling, often some sort of hate or love. For a moment, I can feel what they feel towards that person. It only lasts a moment, and I cannot see names, only faces.” Her gaze moved from the table to her companion's face, as she could see him better now that they were inside. The gold in his eyes shone a little more now, and she watched carefully to see his reaction to her answers.

[Daishira]

The waiter briskly offered the two a drink almost immediately after they sat down in hard wooden chairs, offering little comfort, only an object to rest your legs, nothing more. Synthira answered Daishira's questions rather openly, to his surprise as he sipped his drink. The fishy and cold drink slivered down his throat, cooling but burning at the same time. A welcome sensation to any being's thirst for alcohol.

Synthira's pale face inked red the more she spoke about breeding, and admittedly... this amused Daishira enormously. Guilty pleasure. He would tell her to stop, but she kept talking anyway, so there was no need. She was doing it off her own back.

Any male, eh? Subconsciously, Daishira's grin widened. He didn't even notice it and what it implied, and said, "You imagine?"

Daishira didn't want to be too blunt about it, but it was obvious what he was hinting at. Synthira hadn't experienced it first hand. Then again, she looked rather young. Then again, Daishira looked rather old. Then again, with the variation in species and their features, it was almost impossible to tell someone's age. Then again... who was he to assume and deduct? Some grand inspector? Nope.

In addition to that question, the young Kelvic wondered about the Konti's fascinating gift, her so called 'bond reading'. If she was to touch Daishira's hand, what she would see would be not one single face. But multiple faces, all shrouded by menacing, pointed hoods, as if the fabric of these assassins were enough the strike through your skin, between your ribs, tearing through the muscle of your heart, then making the reverse journey out the other side until it was completely through.

He should probably not let her touch him in that case, but he was far too curious for that. Curiosity killed the cat. Well, big dog.

"And how about trying your talent out on me?" Daishira held his hand out openly after letting the mug make its own home on the table by slowly forming that ring of liquid, palm facing downwards so there was no intention of grabbing her hand when she touched it.

"I won't bite."

[Synthira]

"You imagine?" The kelvic said, his eyes amused. "Well... yes, I dont..." She sighed. He was obviously enjoying the affect the conversation's turn had taken on her. "I did, after all, grow up on an island of women. Besides that, konti reach adulthood at age thirty, and I am only thirty two. I've never even been properly kissed." Synthira wondered if it was the nearby fire that warmed her, or her own blush. She was glad that once again the topic changed, as he had taken a keen interest in her gift. He lay his hand on the table, palm facing down. "And how about trying your talent out on me? I don't bite." He gave a small smile, and hesitantly she reached for his hand. With fingers like feathers, she rested her hand on his. Immediately a face came into mind. It was dark, cruel features twisting into a fearsome smile. Its eyes were beady, glinting with greed and anger. Its features changed and morphed as she closed her eyes, something she'd never experienced before. Perhaps it was not one person - the only thing that stayed constant was that it remained partially hidden by a pointed hood. Perhaps more surprising was the wave of emotion that came over her. Sheer, animalistic terror, as well as hatred and anger. Her own heart beat elevated, her eyes shooting open. She had heard a cry of surprise - was it her own? Daishira's expression was half understanding, half concern. Once she was once again mistress of her breathing, she spoke. "It was... a man. Men - all hooded, all dark. And then there was fear, anger, and hatred. All three were very strong, and it took me by surprise. That’s all.” She took another swig of the foul liquid. “I’ve not seen those faces before, and they obviously hold some sway over your emotions. Who are they?” She looked him in the eyes, smiling slightly to show him that her question was not intended as malicious. He could answer her if he desired.

[Daishira]

Maybe that wasn't the best idea I ever had...

Daishira could see the Konti's strong reaction. She panicked. She even let out a loud and sudden cry, attracting others' attentions for a short while before their interest was diverted back to their own drinks and businesses. Daishira looked around and gave quick looks of apology to anyone who maintained their glare. Then back to Synthira, he faced with a more genuine and heartfelt look of apology. In her somewhat hysteric state, she gulped down more of her drink, which was never a good sign. He raised his hand only slightly from the surface of the table, indicating 'Slow down, princess'.

He waited for her to explain what she saw, what she felt and then she asked the obvious question, "Who are they?"

A wave of regret washed over Daishira. He should not have gotten this innocent woman involved with that side of his life. Not yet. Maybe not ever. He could not hide his discomfort with her question, as he shuffled nervously in his seat, clutching the drink. Very hypocritically, he downed the remainder of his drink and stood up very abruptly.

"I'm sorry, Synthira. I should never have done that. It's my fault, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

Reluctantly, but necessarily, Daishira made for the door, knocking over his chair on the way and nearly tripping himself up.

I need to keep her safe. She should not have seen that. Oh, petch! What a mistake. I have to leave her, I have to make sure she's safe from me. The assassin's could kill her!

He rushed out the door, looking somewhat like a drunk stumbling out the bar. He gathered himself and was about to run away back into the shadows where he felt most vulnerable and yet most secure. But then... A circle of five hooded figures surrounded him. The menacing formation slowly enclosed Daishira, one step at a time. He readied himself to fight, pulled his angle blade out from its sheath.

Typical...

The one in the middle hissed.

"Daishira..."

[Synthira]

The kelvic drank the rest of his beer and stood up rather quickly, his expression one she couldn’t read. "I'm sorry, Synthira. I should never have done that. It's my fault, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He stumbled towards the door, tripping over his chair as he ran. She watched him leave. Gods, what did I do? She too stood up, the bartender yelling after her. She paid him little mind. She’d return later, if she remembered. But right now, other things were more important. She walked to the door quickly, though not as hastily as Daishira. She peered out the doorway. He was nowhere to be found. She walked back and forth along the bar’s façade, not knowing what to do. Of course. The kelvic wouldn’t have used the main path… She looked towards the darkened alley behind the bar, and walked towards it. She shook her head. The konti didn’t like this idea at all… but she had to go in. The kelvic’s flight had been suspicious, especially after she’d seen what she had. If he was in danger, she wasn’t going to leave him to die. Cautiously she walked down the alleyway, flattening herself against a building when she heard a voice. “Daishira…” It hissed. Her head turned immediately. Five dark silhouettes surrounded Daishira, hidden by hoods. The men. I’ve seen those hoods before. One of the men noticed that they were not alone, and strode over to where Synthira stood. “What have we here?” He said, his voice greasy. He dragged her over to the rest of the men, chuckling darkly. “Look what I found, boys? It’s that little thing we saw with Daishira earlier.” “Too curious for her own good,” Another piped up. The hooded men had surrounded them , forming a circle that grew smaller and smaller. The konti glanced at Daishira. Was he angry at her, for following? I’m sorry… She mouthed. Whoever these men were, they weren't looking for a friendly conversation and a drink.

[Daishira]

Daishira was frantically searching for a way to escape. If he was a magician, he would make a rich living out of being an escape artist, for he's had plenty of practise. His expression though was blank. He did not allow others to look in to Daishira's thoughts in times of stress or extreme high risk.

Now, my life was on the line. Is that not high risk enough?

They circled their prey, a feeling Daishira was not so accustomed to, despite hiding from these guys for around a year now. He was usually the hunter, in most cases, not afraid to kill if necessary, though he tried to avoid that. Escaping was always less messy and far less effort.

He spotted an opening. If he immobilised one of the assassins, he could rush past him and make for a wall that was crumbling. Bricks stood out and he could easily use them to climb, maybe even taking the bricks out as he climbed to prevent them following. His plan of action changed immediately when one of them broke formation and dragged Synthira out from hiding.

Oh... fuck. I suppose now it's even more high risk...

The whole point of leaving her in the Kelp Bar was so she was NOT in danger. Inside the still expressionless body that was Daishira, fury rose up in concordance with adrenaline. It circulated in his blood and built up to an extent it had to be released. Daishira could handle his own life, he need not worry about that. But when someone else's life was in danger, especially a friend, even if it was someone he'd just met, Daishira's more animalistic side took over.

FUCK!

He slipped his angle blade out from his trusty jacket and hurled it at the guy holding Synthira. He was just training with his weapon just a couple of hours ago, so he was at his peak performance, even if he was only mediocre in his attacks. The blade whistled past Synthira's pale and panicked face and planted itself cleanly in the assassin's neck. Blood splurted from the man onto Synthira's cheek, her hair and her upper back. Deep red contrasted with her pale complexion.

Daishira did not witness the kill himself, he was already on top of another assassin in the opposite direction, which took him by immediate surprise. With a grunt, he punched the man several times in the hood covered face, proving sufficient to knock him out. His sense of hearing told him another was running up behind him, via footsteps, and he reflexively flung his leg out and swooped. Luckily, without looking, Daishira made contact with the man's shin. A loud groan of agony was heard.

Daishira jumped up. Before he could continue with the other two, they worked together, communicating with each other, and tackled him to the ground. With grunts of effort, one held Daishira down against the cold, hard surface of the ground whilst the other drew his dagger. The glint of the sharp steel twinkled against the dark night sky. The metal looked ready to pierce his eyes, or somewhere close to that.

His life was about to be ended before his eyes. He looked to Synthira.

[Synthira]

Synthira saw the knife hurling at her. She was too stunned to move, and so stood there praying under her breath. It took her a long time to register that she had not been hit, and that the man who’d held her captive had fallen. Warm, sticky liquid covered her face, hair, and shoulders. The smell was metallic and thick, and she touched her fingers to her face. Blood. Not my own. She turned to the dark figure behind her. He lay motionless, blood still flowing freely from the wound. If he was not dead, he would be very soon. She watched Daishira take out two more of the men. He moved so quickly that she could barely register what was going on. The first he leapt at, hitting in the face. The men fell back, knocked out cold. The next one tried to sneak up from behind, but his footsteps were clumsy and loud. Daishira flung his leg out, tripping the man. He yelled out and grabbed at his shin, tripping and falling on his face. The remaining two came at Daishira at once, and soon he was on the ground. Steel flashed through the dim moonlight. She had stood too long like a creature trapped by fear. She strode lightly across the ground. He glanced at her, his eyes pleading. He looked desperate, as though he felt death approaching. She stopped just behind the men, gathering her courage. If she could but distract them, it would buy time at least. “Forgetting something, boys?” The one holding the kelvic turned his head, his temple only to be met with Synthira’s fist. He was dazed, and that was enough. Several swift kicks to the face later he was unconscious. The other one stood up as well, knife in hand. His eyes held something more of intelligence than his partners’, and he grinned wickedly. She knew that he was much stronger than her, but she was quick. She dodged the majority of his blows, leaping from behind and wrapping her arm around his throat. He sputtered and coughed, attempting to throw her off. His face grew redder and redder, and when his eyes finally closed she let him fall to the ground. He was still alive, but he wouldn’t be using his knife any time soon. Synthira extended her hand to the kelvic, helping him up. “Does this make us even?” She began to scramble up the brick wall that lay before them. They moved hurriedly along the rooftops, pausing only when they were at a safe distance. Synthira looked at the man. He didn’t seem too badly hurt, though they were both a bit bloodied and exhausted. She brushed the red-dipped hair out of her face, silently taking inventory of her various cuts and bruises. “I think,” She said breathlessly, “That you owe me some answers. I’ll start with the obvious questions. Who are those men? What do they want? And why are they after you specifically?” Before he could object, she spoke again. “They know my face now, and when they wake up they are not likely to remember me fondly. I must know what I – we – are up against.”