"For the last time!" Cassandra's fury bounced off the wooden walls of Elyria's royal stable. "Can anyone tell me where Leo has run off to?!"
"I believe Bethran would be in a better position to answer that," Alexandre yawned, still tired from last night's ball.
"Good point," Cassandra grinned, her fury instantly concentrating on one unfortunate target. Bethran couldn't help but gulp.
"So, Sir Bethran, any idea of where your brother disappeared to?"
"I'm afraid not," Bethran replied, his face bearing a false smile. "We both split up after leaving the castle."
"To where exactly?" Cassandra frowned, knowing fully well where the irresponsible assassin must have headed.
"I myself had been occupied with a certain general that seeks our Order's cooperation in a certain matter."
Cassandra rolled her eyes, obviously not pleased with the response.
"And Leo?"
"Oh, that." A short chuckle escaped Bethran's lips. "I have no idea, but I believe he was last seen at Gerald's library."
"This is so unlike him." Cassandra rubbed her chin in thought, desperately trying to find some explanation. "Well, in any case, I fear we will have to head home without him."
"What?" Bethran's eyes widened in surprise. The Night had a clear policy of never leaving an assassin behind unless it interfered with a mission.
"I'm afraid Cassandra's right," Alexandre spoke in a tone that made Bethran doubt he really cared about Leo's absence.
"Midnight Vince just got word of a rising unrest on the fringes of Magnitia," Cassandra explained, arms crossed.
"Left early, huh?" Bethran assumed, seeing no other reason why the stingy elder would not be present. "Still, I hope this won't prevent me from going ahead with tomorrow's plan. Best I voice it now before it becomes too late."
"Why don't we give Leo another hour?" Bethran suggested with a shrug. "I'm sure this important matter could wait at least an hour."
"An hour, you say?" Cassandra tapped her feet impatiently at the very thought of wasting more time than necessary. "We were meant to leave by evening!"
The white crescent floating ahead in the dark night sky only made matters worse.
"A few more days and it will be full moon." Worry crept over Bethran as General Hyacinth's earlier warning came to mind.
"I feel like we should stay," Alexandre suddenly said, his face remaining as stoic as ever.
Cassandra, with a nod and a great sigh of dejection, turned her attention to a piebald mare being groomed by a small stable hand that had been pretty inconspicuous until recently.
"Should he be here?" Bethran pointed at the young elf.
"He's an elf," Cassandra rolled her eyes, taking the brush from the groom and continuing where he stopped. "They usually mind their business."
"Come to think of it." The mare gave a snort of contempt on finding nothing hidden behind Cassandra's long cloak.
"You said something about General Hyacinth giving you some kind of task?" Alexandre leaned against a wooden beam, his face comically resembling that of the jet-black stallion munching hay behind him.
"Yes." Bethran took in a deep breath, looking for a good way to put this. "She somehow blackmailed me into helping her."
"Blackmail?!" Cassandra roared, frightening the mare.
"Shh." She calmed the panicked beast quite quickly.
"How did she—"
All eyes turned towards the stable hand grooming another horse ever so quietly.
"Kid would have made a pretty good assassin," Cassandra was forced to admit. It wasn't every day someone went unnoticed by people of their caliber.
"Too bad the kid's an outsider," Bethran chuckled, watching as the silent hand departed with a small bow.
"Ever so quiet," he added.
"That's because he's mute," Alexandre shrugged, wondering how the two hadn't noticed it from the beginning.
"No wonder he was so relaxed in the lad's presence," Bethran and Cassandra simultaneously agreed.
"Anyways," Cassandra continued with the earlier discussion.
"I'm guessing she's still breathing?" Bethran's eyes widened at the meaning behind those words. Who had ever said Cassandra was nice?
"No, I didn't think it would be a good idea," he ended up saying.
"Why?" Cassandra was getting a little angry from all the frustrations trying to suffocate her in just one night.
"A well-protected general surrounded by guards suddenly dying mysteriously in a city where a few assassins had visited seemed a bit too suspicious." Bethran smiled.
Reluctantly, Cassandra was forced to agree with his reasoning—which she found choking. It wasn't every day one could expect such high-level thinking from someone like Bethran.
"I doubt that was the only reason," Alexandre made his presence known.
"Right as always, Fang Alexandre." Bethran bowed. "She also seems to be quite knowledgeable on matters referring to forgotten races such as myself."
"Worried about the full moon, I see." Alexandre followed Bethran's gaze up to the glowing crescent.
"Yes, in folktales and myths—" Alexandre and Cassandra stared at the brown book now resting in Bethran's hands.
"It is often speculated that most werewolves get afflicted with a murderous bloodlust that makes them hunt anything that moves in their vicinity."
"I never thought you would ever open a book." Cassandra sat down, taking deep breaths as she tried to make sense of everything happening.
"I know, right." For once a wide smile appeared on Alexandre's face. "Tonight is just full of surprises."
"So, this Hyacinth has proposed to help you control this bloodlust on condition that you help her with what?" Alexandre took on the questioning since Cassandra seemed out for any form of conversation.
"Taking care of some wraith in northern Elyria."
"A wraith?" Cassandra's mouth dropped.
"Yes, it appears that we have just discovered another beast that we all thought was extinct." Bethran laughed, cleaning off a low hanging tear.
"You haven't seen nothing yet though." Bethran grinned, relishing the look on Cassandra's face.
"Hyacinth isn't full elf herself."
This time Alexandre joined in Cassandra's shocked silence.
Seeing that neither of the two were going to say anything else, Bethran answered the question he knew was plaguing their minds at the moment. "Hyacinth claims she's half spirit."
"Wow." Alexandre clapped his hands in amazement.
"That's all."
"When are you to join her on this whimsical quest?" Alexandre asked.
"Tomorrow," came Bethran's reply.
"Very well. Tomorrow you shall join the northern expedition and learn more about yourself—and hopefully the manner of threat those vampires might pose for the Phoenix."
"I agree." Cassandra's smile was weak.
"Leo has thirty minutes, by the way," she added, staring at a little pocket watch.
"Look on the bright side." Bethran grinned.
Cassandra raised an eyebrow.
Bethran placed a palm against his right ear. "I believe our favorite assassin has finally arrived."
CREAK
The stable's massive wooden doors swung inwards revealing a sight that Bethran vowed to never forget.
Leo limped in, leaning on a strange ivory cane. Beside him was a seer that Bethran had remembered seeing somewhere but couldn't actually place.
"Long time no see, Eveningtide." Cassandra's eyebrow twitched—a clear sign she was on the verge of bursting out with uncontrollable rage.
"Good to see you too, Midnights." The cloudy-eyed seer bowed, his white hair somehow looking more dazzling in the dim moonlight.
"What are you wearing, boy?" Alexandre pointed at Leo's tunic.
"You look like a damn acolyte."
"More like a damsel in distress," Bethran joked—though for some reason, nobody found it funny.
"Care to explain why you're dressed like an acolyte, why you're limping, and most importantly—"
Cassandra's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets.
"Why are you F*CKING LATE?!"
"It's a long story," Eveningtide smiled.
"Make it short," Alexandre frowned.
"And quick," Cassandra added.
"Sure thing." Beads of sweat ran down from Leo's face all the way to his pristine white tunic.
"We're listening." The trio of dark-cloaked assassins glared.
And so, Leo and Eveningtide's tale began—a mix and web of lies, half-truths, and a whole lot of whimsy.