Hyacinth (storyline)/The Storm (vignette)
Kiyonna loved a good storm. She nearly danced through the sheets of moisture, humming a wandering tune she made up on the spot, and marveled at the bright flashes of lightning and the tremendous rumbles of thunder that followed mere instants later.
She was brought up short by the appearance of one of the Iyo sentries. The young man dropped from a tree limb soundlessly, mere feet away from Kiyonna but not making a sound. Kiyonna blinked in surprise, then smiled as she recognized the sentry.
"Eskos," she greeted with a nod, which the man returned.
"You shouldn't have come this way, Kiy," he intoned, his face serious.
"What? Why not?"
"That's not something I can tell you."
Kiyonna set her hands on her hips and gave Eskos a stern look.
"What do you mean you can't tell me? What are you even doing out this way? Your family stays near the peak of the mountain."
Eskos sighed and gave Kiyonna a penetrating gaze.
"Not any more we don't."
Kiyonna eyed him speculatively for a long moment, then blinked in surprise as realization struck.
"You're the new guardians?" she whispered harshly.
Eskos didn't move a muscle, just regarded her steadily. After a few long moments, Kiyonna nodded slowly and took a measured step backwards.
"Will you... Is there anything I can do?" she asked tentatively.
"Forget you saw me here, and forget the path you took to get this far in the first place."
Kiyonna nodded gravely and turned to leave back the way she'd come, her enjoyment of the storm completely forgotten.
The storm covered his movements, not that he needed the help. The stranger darted from rooftop to rooftop, making acrobatic leaps and changing direction with the use of various poles and beams that he encountered on his journey. When he neared the center of town, he slowed considerably and found an outcropping on which to perch. There he crouched, his eyes vigilant despite the horrible storm. Rainwater streamed down his forehead and into his unkempt beard before filtering down the front of his bloodstained tunic.
There had been three today. He had been vigilant, and stopped them before they could accomplish their mission. Two were dead, and one... wished he was, but he would answer the stranger's questions after being given some time to think over his situation. The particular ambience of the room in which he'd awaken would see to that. It was imperative to know how much time remained... and what was being planned, if it could be ascertained.
For now, though, the stranger watched, as he had for weeks. He could be patient, when needed. And the current situation called for a quiet hand. At least until it could be determined who could be trusted. Then... well, then the hunt would begin in earnest.
Crash awoke with a start, his thoughts foggy behind a blinding headache as he spluttered, "Who?" before realizing he was alone. Though perhaps not entirely alone. He was tied to a chair with forearm-thick rope which had been passed around his legs, torso, and neck, leaving him nearly unable to move. He had some freedom of movement with his right hand, but a few moments of straining failed to bring any advantage or avenue to freedom.
A pair of forms became slowly recognizable a short distance away, themselves tied to chairs, though both were mostly hidden in shadows. The longer he stared, though, the more the tableau managed to swim into focus.
Bitter and Dive. Or what remained of them. All the parts were still there, he supposed, though it was impossible to make a full accounting. Still, all the important bits were present.
Stacked in each of their laps were their feet, hands, and head.
Crash screamed, his headache vanished in a fresh wave of panic, but the storm outside drowned out any noise he was capable of making. That did not deter him, however, and he screamed until his voice gave out. And then screamed some more.
Zofiya hated the office. She hated her desk, she hated the neverending line of people requiring her attention, and hated the fact that she was expected to leave her sword at home when handling town business. She longed to be out there, hunting as she'd been trained to do, and felt very out of her element.
She forced her attention back to her latest visitor, ashamed to realize that she'd missed his last statement. She mustered a smile and a nod, which seemed to appease the man.
"I'm glad you agree, Administrator," he said warmly. "I think it will be very well received amongst the townsfolk. I have spoken with as many as I might in the course of my daily work, and the consensus is fairly clear."
"Thank you, very much," Zofiya said, trying to drag her wits together and follow the conversation. What had she just agreed to?
"It is my consummate pleasure to be of assistance to the town, Administrator. I have lived here all my life, and am happy to help in any way that I can."
With that, the Center rose and gave a somewhat self-conscious smile, followed by a half-bow, and then he strode from the office. Once safely out of sight, his grin grew predatory, though it was well-hidden by the storm.