~FALLEN ANGELS~

An original story by Aira and Marcya.

CHAPTER ONE

Chrisenta Scyvithia marched towards her superior’s office, taking with her the air of deadly calm that simply awed those in her presence. Long, midnight black hair fell over her shoulders and danced in the air behind her back. They fell over her eyes, hiding the mysterious blue orbs that were as blue as the oceans and as cold as ice, partially though doing nothing to dull their deadly beauty. Pointed ears jutted out of the almost perfect black veil that was her hair on her head and they were the only sure sign that she was an elve. This was because though she was a head taller than most of her colleagues, there was nothing spectacular or distinguishably elvish about her immediate features and height.

Without breaking the flow of her movements, she came to a graceful stop right in front of her superior’s door. She lifted a leather-encased hand and gave the door three abrupt knocks and then waited. It was not long before a muffled voice came from the other side of the door, allowing her entrance to the office. Gripping the bronze doorknob, she pushed the door open and entered in. She walked wordlessly to the center of the room before falling on one knee and speaking in a soft, yet powerful, voice.

“I am here, Lord Prism.”

The tall figure who stood by the window, a hand clutching and holding back the thick curtains while the other held the ivory mask on his face in place, regarded Chrisenta with a slight nod.

“Rise up.” Prism told her former-student in a firm, low voice. Chrisenta complied and rose up though she kept her head bowed down slightly.

“What did you call me for, Lord Prism?” she questioned, her voice only barely rising to mark her statement as question.

Prism glided across the room and sat herself comfortably on the only sofa, which was placed against the far-eastern wall. Chrisenta remained rooted to her spot, but her eyes followed her superior’s every movement.

Prism spoke in a soft whisper that Chrisenta couldn’t have heard if not for her elven ears. Prism chose her words carefully, choosing to use as little words that would get her point across perfectly.

“I have acquired a new recruit.”

To this, a miniscule frown grazed Chrisenta’s face and when her superior did not continued immediately as if waiting for her response, she spoke in a tentative tone almost tinged with a tiny bit of hopefulness that was not lost to Prism.

“…for me to train?”

If the mask hiding Prism’s visage did not have an eternal look of impassiveness carved onto it, Chrisenta could have sworn it grinned for when Prism spoke there was a hint of amusement in his voice.

“She will be your new companion.”

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Rysta paced the room that she was in just off Lord Prism’s office. Her waist-length auburn hair whipping around her. She stopped in front of the door, trying hard to listen, but she couldn’t hear a thing.

She closed her eyes, remembering Prism’s exact words.  “I would like to introduce you to someone. Be back here at midday tomorrow.”

Meet someone, thought Rysta, who in this World could she possibly want me to meet? I thought that no one in the ‘Night Shadow’ should personally meet their partners unless on a mission. So why am I being an exception here?

Rysta started pacing across the hallway again, her thoughts refusing to get off the topic of who Lord Prism wanted her to meet.

“Could it possibly be the legendary Silver?” she asked the empty hallway. “No.” she answered herself in a disbelieving tone. “Why would she want to meet me anyways?”

Suddenly a voice filled the hallway. Lord Prism’s voice, thought Rysta.

“You may enter.”

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As soon as the words were spoken, Chrisenta snapped her head to the door’s direction, her cold blue eyes taking immediate notice of the slight movement in the doorknob. She took a deep breath, pushing back the sarcastic comments that threatened to roll off her tongue any second and waited.

The door was pushed open, revealing a young redheaded woman with piercing green eyes that stood out from her heart-shaped face like jewels embedded on golden-brown earth. She was about Chrisenta’s height, only she was taller by an inch and this one detail stood out of all the details. She tried to keep a straight face as she assessed the, assumedly, younger woman; silver loops adorned both the young woman’s ears and she was clad in apprentice-class clothes of black and gray.

“This is Lady Rysta,” Prism’s voice floated into her mind, disrupting her train of thought and she abruptly turned to her superior. “Are you not going to greet her, Chrisenta?”

Chrisenta pursed her lips and she narrowed her eyes before turning to Rysta once more, her movements graceful, and if status could be conveyed in a single motion, she very nearly came close to doing just that.

“I am Lady Chrisenta…” she trailed away, hesitating for a few moments before continuing, carefully mouthing her surname, “…Scyvithia…”

“ It is a pleasure to meet you.” Her voice was far from displaying pleasure, quite the opposite actually, but her complaints would have to be kept to herself for now, until she had the private audience of her superior once more.

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Oh. My. God, thought Rysta, it’s her.

“The pleasure is all mine.” She replied, her voice sounded cool and calm, completely unlike what she was feeling.

She continued her assessment of Chrisenta, the assessment she started the moment she entered the room. The first thing that hit her was the eyes; clear blue and as cold as ice, the voice – Rysta noted – was flat with no feeling whatsoever, Chrisenta’s midnight black hair – which fell halfway down her back – was tied back in a simple pony-tail… Her posture reminded Rysta of one of those elven kings. Matter of fact, thought Rysta, those ears: She is elven.

Rysta was sure her eyes widened in shock. She’s an elve, she thought, she’s shorter than me but tall enough for an elve. Her clothing of deep blue and black reminded Rysta even more of elven Royalty.

Lord Prism’s words snapped her out of her thoughts.

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“I know what you’re thinking, Chrisenta.”

The elven assassin turned away, making a conscious effort not to roll her eyes, and faced her superior straight-faced. The look on her face spoke volumes and without as much as moving her mouth, she got the message she’d wanted to say without insulting or embarassing her new partner.

“I don’t need a partner.”

“You need one; more than you think you do.” Prism’s voice said in her mind and she clenched her jaw. She hoped Rysta wasn’t paying attention because what was in front of her was Chrisenta Scyvithia, her mask of indifference crumbling and losing her cool; a rare event.

“Fine,” Chrisenta said flatly and then folded her arms. “When are you deploying us for a mission?”

Prism held out a gloved hand as she spoke, deep ambiguous voice clear and crisp, “I’ll give you the specifics tomorrow. For now, get yourselves used to one another. If the Gods will it, you’ll be working for a long while together.”

Chrisenta bit her lower lip. “Not if she dies…” she thought bitterly, her eyebrows drawn. The White Shadow worked alone for a reason, and it was a reason she did not want to be reminded of anymore.

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Rysta watched Chrisenta sip her coffee. She then moved her glance around the restaurant when she noticed Chrisenta’s eyes upon her. She snapped her head back when Chrisenta asked; “So, how old are you? You seem awfully young.”

“I’m 16,” Rysta replied, then as an afterthought added, “You don’t look so old yourself, so how old would you be?”

“27.” The sarcasm dripped from Chrisenta’s voice like honey.

“27?” Rysta raised her eyebrows, “So you must be married with three kids right? Tell me,” she added, “how do you find time for this stuff?”

Chrisenta paused. Ha!, thought Rysta,  your sarcasm won’t touch me, not when I’ve grown up with Kieran. She was sure a hint of a grin appeared on her face.

“I’m 17.” Chrisenta said.

“Wow, I always thought you were older than that.” Rysta’s surprise showed in her voice.

“Don’t be surprised, you’re not the only one to think that.” Chrisenta replied.

“OK,” thought Rysta, “the girl reads minds.”

There was a period of silence, which Rysta broke by saying, “So, how long have you been workin’ for Lord Prism?”

“5, 6 years… more or less.” Chrisenta replied, placing her teacup back on its saucer.

“5 or 6 years,” mused Rysta, “around the time I started, except she was doing pro and I wasn’t.”

And suddenly, Chrisenta asked, “You do know what you’ve gotten yourself into, right?” She wondered if Rysta knew about the occasional assassination missions.

“Pretty Much… yeah.” Rysta replied, to herself she thought: “Gotten myself into… is she trying to scare me?”

“We get… no, I get sent to assassinate people occasionally and since you’re my partner, you are aware of your… responsibilities….” Chrisenta watched as Rysta opened her mouth to say something before abruptly cutting her off.  “Don’t worry, you can choose not to go. Either way, it makes no difference.”

Rysta thought about it for a few seconds, then said, “You ain’t getting rid of me that easy. Once I start on something, I don’t stop, not til’ the job’s done—“

“Even if it’ll be the death of you… even if it means killing someone for someone else without second thought?”

“Don’t you worry about me… I’ve killed before.. and it hasn’t hurt me in any way.”

“If only you knew,” Rysta thought, “It was self-defense…”

“It was self-defense…” Chrisenta pointed out suddenly and waited for Rysta’s reaction before continuing, “wasn’t it?”

She got up then and got ready to leave. “Enough of this… I’m tired. Good Day, Rysta… It was…” she closed her eyes, “a… ‘pleasure’ to meet you.”

Rysta watched her walk out before she had the chance to reply. “This chick has a serious attitude problem.” She thought as, she too, left the little restaurant.

~END CHAPTER ONE~

Author’s Note : Read and Review!!! Please???